Over the next few days, life at the dungeon camp settled into a rhythm that felt almost comfortable. Danger was still there, lurking in the stone halls and shadowed corners, but it no longer pressed on them like a weight. The frantic rush of their first dives had faded into steady, confident progress.

  Their new classes and skills had changed everything for them.

  What had once been chaotic scrambles for survival now felt like choreographed fights, each of them moving with purpose instead of panic. Even the air inside the dungeon felt different. The unstable mana hummed less violently, and the oppressive pressure that used to make the hairs on Josh’s arms rise had thinned to a faint vibration.

  The first fight after their promotions made that difference clearer than words.

  They walked a corridor that had once put them on edge, yet now Josh strode at the front with his shield lowered. He scanned the shadows with confidence instead of dread. When two goblins sprang out from a side passage, shrieking as they lunged, he didn’t flinch.

  He stepped into the attack and slammed his shield forward.

  The impact cracked like thunder. The goblin hit the wall hard enough to leave a smear of fading mana, crumpling before dissolving into golden sparks.

  Brett’s hand was already raised. A twist of his wrist sent a ribbon of orange flame spiralling through the air. His Ember Lash struck the second goblin mid?leap, coiling around it like a living serpent. The creature shrieked, arms flailing as the flames pinned it and burned clean through.

  It fell twitching, then stilled.

  Perberos knelt beside the bodies, eyes glowing faintly green as he traced the residual trails of movement.

  “Left tunnel,” he murmured. “Three creatures. Bigger than goblins.”

  Bheldur flexed his shoulders, grinning. “Finally. Something to hit properly.”

  Josh nodded. “Keep formation. No rushing.”

  They moved deeper.

  The next fight was a small orc patrol, something that would have terrified them only a few days earlier. Josh braced for the charge, activating his new skill. A translucent shimmer flared around his shield as Unyielding Step triggered. The first orc barrelled straight into him and rebounded so violently it flipped backward.

  Before it hit the ground, Bheldur’s throwing axe whistled past Josh’s ear and buried itself in the creature’s chest. The axe shimmered, then snapped back to the dwarf’s hand with a clean pull of mana.

  “Still love that,” Brett muttered.

  The last orc roared and rushed Brett, but Carcan lifted her hand. A pulsing wave of soft blue light rolled off her as she used Bolstering Resonance and Josh felt strength surge through him. He intercepted the orc with a shoulder slam, knocking it to the ground. Brett ended it with a burst of fire.

  The fights kept coming. Orcs in small groups. Occasionally a troll, its hulking form filling entire passages. Trolls had once been terrifying, but now?

  Perberos marked every weak point with precise arrows. Brett’s flames kept open wounds from closing. Bheldur took every blow that came his way and returned it twice as hard. Josh held the front line without folding, his shield techniques turning each hit into an opening.

  By the time they reached the boss room again, the fear was gone.

  The goblin boss rose from its throne of crude stone, bellowing. Josh braced himself, feeling his training settle over him like a cloak, bolstered by their new skills. They didn’t attack wildly. They dismantled it.

  Josh drew its attention, shield?bashing it each time it tried to charge. Perberos pinned its legs with a flurry of precise shots. Brett unleashed a controlled blaze that forced it back whenever it tried to gain any momentum. Carcan kept everyone sharp, her supportive pulses never failing, and Bheldur ended the fight with a decisive, mana?charged strike that cleaved through the boss's skull.

  The boss toppled. It dissolved. And they stood almost untouched.

  For the first time, the dungeon felt conquerable. They left the dungeon again, but this time feeling somewhat unfulfilled - their hard work was paying off, but this wasn’t a challenge now.

  They weren’t the only ones making progress. Ronald had split the trainees into three main delve groups, and all of them had reached level ten at a similar pace to Josh’s party. One of the guard?led parties that had been left to guard the dungeon entrance had also improved quickly enough to start proper delves too.

  But Zolma’s group… struggled.

  Her hesitation worsened under pressure. Her healing often came seconds too late, or from so far behind that her spells fizzled before reaching her allies. Vokal’s frustration grew, clear in every stiff movement. Whenever the two parties crossed paths, Zolma looked drained, shadows under her eyes, smile brittle.

  “We’ll catch up,” Vokal said each time, though the tremble in his voice undercut his confidence.

  Especially when he glanced at Zolma.

  One evening, as they rested by the fire, Carcan pulled Josh aside.

  "Some people bloom later," she said softly. "We were lucky. Not everyone gets that chance, not after what happened over there." She nodded toward the hill where Koz'ru had died.

  Josh exhaled, staring into the flames. "I just hope they don’t break themselves trying to match us."

  “I’ll speak with Zolma,” Carcan replied. “Pressure can crack someone. But sometimes it shapes them instead. We’ll see which it becomes for her.”

  Josh trusted her to tell the difference.

  By the end of the second day after hitting level ten, Josh’s party had climbed to level eleven, and by the fourth day, they reached level twelve. But hitting that milestone was becoming harder and harder, but also came with an unexpected realisation.

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  The dungeon wasn’t changing and the monsters weren’t scaling.

  What had once felt like a desperate gauntlet was now little more than a training yard. Their progress slowed to a crawl, experience trickling in like lukewarm water. Goblins no longer offered resistance; they scattered at the first hint of steel or flame. Even the trolls, once terrifying, mana-twisted juggernauts, fell quickly under their coordinated assault. They were completing each dungeon run quicker and quicker, but their levelling had slowed down to a snails pace. It did mean that the party was able to train with their lesser used skills, and practice their team work, using different tactics and skills, the risk to them reduced. This at least made the time in the dungeon worth it at this stage for them.

  During one run that afternoon, Brett dispatched a goblin with a casual flick of his fingers, a tiny spark of orange tapping the creature between the eyes. It dropped with a squeak, dissolving into golden motes.

  Brett let out a sigh. "I’m not even using real spells anymore. This is getting sad."

  Bheldur snorted, hefting his axe onto his shoulder. "I could do these runs sleepwalking. Axe in one hand, ale in the other."

  Perberos raised an eyebrow. "You’d spill the ale."

  "Not if I drink fast," Bheldur replied confidently.

  Josh crouched, cleaning his sword with the end of a tattered goblin banner. "Alright, let’s not get sloppy. Just because the dungeon’s easing up doesn’t mean we should."

  Carcan nodded, her tone steady but approving. "He’s right. Besides, the slow-down is a good sign. We’re completing the dungeon faster, we’re safer, and the mana is now dissipating quicker than it can generate."

  They would soon be proven right… mostly.

  —-

  It happened late on the fourth day.

  Josh and his party had only just stepped back into camp, sweat still cooling on their skin from their last of several runs through the dungeon that day, when a sharp, panicked horn blast cut through the air. Every conversation died. Every head turned.

  "Goblins incoming!" someone cried.

  Josh didn’t think. His shield was already up, sword sliding free in the same heartbeat. Around him, his party shifted seamlessly into formation, instincts sharpened by days of relentless training in the dungeon.

  But this… this was different.

  The treeline exploded with movement. A warband of goblins charged into view, thirty at least, maybe more. They weren’t the pale, jittery fresh dungeon-spawn the party had grown used to dismantling. These were hardened raiders, scarred and muscular, weapons scavenged from past victims, armour mismatched but reinforced. Their eyes burned with fury at the sight of their stolen camp. They’d come home conquering heroes, to find their camp destroyed and their kin slain.

  Perberos hissed, "These ones have been levelling. A lot."

  Bheldur answered with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "Good. A real fight."

  But the truth settled over them almost immediately. Most of their own fighters were still in the dungeon.

  Which left them to defend the camp. Alone.

  Then they saw Caistina.

  The lightning mage was already moving, no hesitation, no fear, just cold, lethal purpose. Her staff thrummed, runes igniting one by one until the entire length glowed with electric-blue light.

  "Stay back," she instructed, no one in particular, voice calm but firm. "I’ll thin them."

  She didn’t wait for agreement.

  The first wave of goblins met her head?on and instantly regretted it.

  Caistina thrust her staff forward. A crack like the sky splitting open tore across the clearing. A bolt of lightning arced outward, then split midair into five separate branches, each one piercing a different goblin. The creatures spasmed violently before collapsing into smouldering heaps.

  The warband roared and spread out, trying to encircle her.

  She welcomed the attempt.

  Caistina twisted her wrist, drawing a circle in the air. Sparks spiralled from her staff, forming a crackling ring around her feet. The nearest goblins lunged, only for a dome of lightning to erupt outward. Every creature within fifteen paces was blasted off its feet, bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds.

  "Storm Pulse," Brett whispered, awed. "She cast it without even chanting—"

  But Caistina wasn’t done.

  She dashed forward with a sudden burst of wind magic, cloak snapping behind her. Three goblins tried to intercept, raising jagged spears. She slid between them, staff sweeping horizontally.

  A crescent?shaped blade of compressed air shot out, slicing cleanly through all three necks.

  Bodies fell before their heads hit the dirt.

  The remaining goblins, those strong enough and unlucky enough to still be breathing, charged in desperation.

  Josh stepped forward to help. Then stopped, his jaw dropping.

  He had never seen anyone fight like this.

  Caistina planted her staff in the earth. Mana flared beneath her boots, the ground etching itself with glowing sigils. Thunder built in the air, pressure tightening around the camp until Josh’s ears popped.

  "You picked the wrong day to return," she said softly.

  The sky answered.

  A pillar of golden?white lightning slammed down around her, detonating outward in a shockwave that flattened the last ten goblins instantly. Their bodies hit the ground smoking, armour fused to flesh.

  Silence swallowed the camp.

  A final goblin, legs broken but still alive, tried to crawl toward the trees. Three arrows thudded into its back before it got two paces.

  The fight was over. Not a single adventurer was injured.

  Caistina exhaled slowly, brushing ash from her sleeve as if she’d merely finished sweeping dust from a floor.

  "If any of you were considering skipping your training tomorrow," she said, "let that be a reminder."

  Brett leaned toward Josh and whispered, "I want to be her when I grow up."

  Josh didn’t even try to argue. Caistina had single?handedly dismantled a warparty that would’ve torn apart a low?level adventuring group… hell, with their levels, Josh and his friends likely would have struggled.

  And she had done it effortlessly.

  —-

  The next morning, the dungeon felt different.

  The party gathered at the entrance, where the warped portal pulsed faintly in the cool early light. For hours now, nothing had emerged. No goblins skulking from the shadows, no stray monsters limping out, not even the distorted echoes that had become part of the dungeon’s unsettling rhythm.

  The air felt still. Waiting.

  Josh crossed his arms as he watched the colours inside the portal twist and shift. "It looks different, right?"

  Carcan stepped forward, studying the portal with a slow, thoughtful tilt of her head. "Yes. The hue’s softening. The mana’s calming. When a dungeon stabilises, it always starts like this apparently."

  Brett let out a low whistle. "So this is it? The end of the break?"

  Before Josh could answer, the portal rippled violently. A burst of warped colour surged outward as another party stumbled through, armour scratched but spirits high.

  Then, a sharp, echoing pop cracked across the clearing.

  A rush of cool air swept over them, carrying thickening mana that prickled against their skin. Instinctively, every hand drifted toward weapon hilts. A low tremor rolled through the earth beneath their boots.

  The portal’s colours shifted again, this time dramatically. The murky, turbulent purple bled away into a serene pale blue, shot through with drifting flecks of gold that shimmered like floating embers.

  Ronald’s voice boomed across the clearing from behind them, before the glow had even settled.

  "Well, we’ve gone and done it! Enough mana’s been dispersed to stabilise the dungeon!" He lifted a hand triumphantly. "No more wild goblins for now. Excellent work, all of you!"

  A cheer rolled through the camp—brief, tired, but genuine.

  Ronald clapped sharply. "Right! Celebration’s over. Back to it. Stabilised doesn’t mean dormant, and we’re not packing up until I say so!"