A Green Wall

With how many goblins there were and how plentifully they came through the small tunnels, there wasn't much of a point in hoping for his father to protect him as the man was already hacking away at goblins.

The same went for Celly, who was focused on her own enemies–

"Bring forth punishment to my enemies beyond the shores! Water Roar!"

From the staff wielded by the silver-haired half-elf, a highly-pressurized spray of water lashed out at the drooling goblins that attempted to rush her. In a violent clash, the water sliced through the green-skinned fiends, dicing them apart.

"--"

This sort of violence was something he wasn't adjusted to, but it seemed to be the norm in a medieval world of magic.

He didn't have any opportunity to lament this fact as he was met face-to-face with one of these goblins, which attempted to slam its wooden club against his head.

"Ghh…!"

By some stroke of luck, he managed to block the strike with his small blade, though he felt the tenacious force of the beady-eyed goblin still pressing down as he struggled against its strength.

He was roughly the same size of the goblin, only a few hairs taller but less muscular as their bodies seemed forged by physical activity.

It continued to press its club down against his blade, breathing out heavy pants as it seemed desperate to incur pain onto him.

"...Back off!" He grunted.

As he pressed the tip of his wand against the sternum of the goblin that drooled close to his face, he invoked a wind spell he had recently learned–"Burrowing Wind."

It conjured in the form of a spiraling wind, condensed to a point that dug through the goblin's chest and blew out from its back, causing the goblin's body to twist around and blow back from the force of the spell.

"--"

He fell back after having used the spell, huffing and looking on in horror at the mess of blood and entrails left by the goblin that had been completely eviscerated by his spell.

Amidst the chaos, he looked up to find another goblin charging towards him with an ax in its hand, letting its tongue flop from its mouth as it snickered.

"--Crap!"

He rolled to the side just as the ax was slammed down, barely missing him as it lodged into the stone. Though the quick, desperate evasion had caused the wand to slip from his hands, rolling across the stone as he felt his stomach sink.

"Raaagh!" The goblin snickered.

As it dislodged its rusty, blood-stained ax from the stone floor, he was forced to thrust his shortsword forward, stabbing right through the green creature's chest. The disgusting sensation of the steel he wielded burrowing through the squishy innards of his enemy was something that made his stomach churn.

Again, before he could gather himself, another of the cave-dwelling barbarians charged towards him.

"--!"

He tried pulling his sword out from the chest of the goblin he had just slain, but it was stuck; he tugged harder as the slobbering kin of the goblin approached, finally drawing his blade as the dead fiend fell over, knocking into the one that was charging towards him.

Scrambling back, he ran towards where his wand had rolled off to, dodging through goblins and witnessing his father rush by.

"Keep going, Emilio! You're doing great!"

The supportive words from his parent would be heart-warming in any other scenario, but they left Julius' lips as he cleaved through two goblins with a single slash, cutting them both in half as the young boy ran by.

Come on…! He thought.

He could hear the same goblin chasing behind him as he rushed for his wand, seeing it just a meter in front of him now as he extended his hand–

STOMP.

"--"

His stomach dropped as he saw a green foot stomp down atop his wand, keeping it from him as he looked up towards the unnaturally large goblin. It drooled, looking down at him with its bloodthirsty eyes.

It was tall and burly; its arms hung down to its knees, carrying a massive club in one hand. It was dressed in only a cloth that covered its nether region, towering over him like a mountain of violence.

What the hell is this thing…?! He thought.

Armed with only his small sword, sweat evacuated from his pores as he looked up at the massive goblin as it raised its club into the air.

As the club was brought down, he used a gust of wind thrown from his hand to knock himself to the side.

In place of him being squashed, the normal-sized goblin that had been chasing him was instead crushed beneath the weight of the club as a disgusting mixture of flesh squelching and bones being turned to powder met his ears.

"..."

He looked on silently with his mouth agape as the large goblin rose its club without any remorse for its kin; bits of flesh clung to the wooden weapon as a flattened corpse was laid beneath the cracked floor below.

As he glanced back, his father and Celly were preoccupied with their own fair share of goblin encounters.

…I guess that means this big guy is up to me, right?...I guess I asked for something like this! He thought.

Without his wand, he felt like a fish out of water; he had grown used to using it and the focus it granted him.

It's not like I can't use spells without it, but…we're inside of a cave right now. If I unleashed something, who knows if it might bring the place down on top of us?...I'm going to have to keep it low and controlled, and rely a bit on swordplay, he thought.

What he remembered most was the unintended destruction caused from his usage of fire magic back at the trafficker hideout; the desolation set to the dungeon.

To his own admission, he hadn't been rigorously training in swordsmanship since his lessons with Celly, but it's not as if the lessons ingrained into him by his time with Veldalla had just vanished.

He spread his feet and planted down, raising his shortsword as he wielded it with his right hand, keeping his left ready by his side. A swirl of mana concentrated around his left hand as he kept his eyes on the burly goblin that stomped towards him.

Through his veins, his blood ran with a boiling heat as his heart thumped against his chest; in his ears, all that filled them was the beat of his own heart as he breathed out.

This was a real battle; there was no dull blade to smack him and let him do better the next time–if he messed up, it could mean certain death.

You're a whole lot smellier, uglier, and unpleasant than Veldalla, but you're not nearly as strong, smart, or skilled! I can take you! He resolved.