The Celebration

Approaching the corpse, Azrael untied the pouch and carefully opened it. Inside, he found a small parchment tied with a knot. With steady hands, he unraveled the knot and straightened the paper, revealing a series of letters inscribed upon it.

But these weren't just any letters—they were runic letters. A surge of excitement coursed through Azrael as he realized the significance. Learning this rune would grant him access to a new magic spell, expanding his repertoire of abilities.

'It must be that black liquid he spat at me.'

Azrael smiled upon discovering the loot. This was the very reason people ventured into dungeons—to amass wealth. Wealth that could alter the course of one's life. It held the potential to transform a person into someone entirely new.

Azrael carefully placed the core and the rune into the pouch, securing it tightly before tying it shut. He then made his way towards the man who had initially entered the boss room with him.

"How long have you been awake?" Azrael inquired, a smile gracing his lips.

"Heard a booming sound and I jolted awake to see you burning that monster," Erik replied, yawning as he struggled to his feet. His movements were unsteady, a evidence to the toll of two centuries of labor.

"How are you feeling?" Azrael inquired, pausing just before the man.

"Now that the monster is dead and I'm finally free, I'm great, kid." Erik smiled sincerely, tears streaming down his face.

Azrael mirrored the smile. The man must have witnessed numerous raids and adventurers, enduring countless deaths. Yet, he survived, living to see the sweet embrace of freedom.

Azrael suddenly stepped forward and embraced him tightly. The man was taken aback at first, but he quickly reciprocated, returning the embrace with equal intensity.

"I need to find my friends and get out of here," Azrael said, breaking the hug.

Erik nodded. "Are they here?"

"Should be. This is the only underground cavern nearby."

"Must be among the slaves then, kid," Erik speculated.

"They were only abducted hours ago, but as this dungeon messes with time, I don't know how much time difference they have experienced," Azrael explained, sighing heavily. The uncertainty weighed heavily on him.

Feeling a chill, he glanced down at himself, realizing he was still clad only in his underpants. The once-white garment was now stained a dirt brown from the filth of the dungeon floor. Azrael shivered slightly, feeling the cold seeping into his bones.

Erik nodded. "Let's get you dressed, kid. Can't have you walking like this," he chuckled.

Azrael agreed with a nod, and together they pushed open the large double door, which now swung open easily since it was no longer locked.

Pushing it open and emerging outside, they were greeted with cries of relief and hugs from those who had been outcasted and forsaken.

As they looked around, they noticed something peculiar. There were no more greens or yellows in sight—only humans.

It seemed that all three types of goblins, including the slave goblins, had vanished entirely. The once-divided inhabitants of the dungeon were now united under a single banner of freedom.

"There they are!" shouted an ex-slave, pointing at Azrael and Erik. Soon, a group of people approached them, surrounding them with a mix of relief and gratitude.

"You killed the monster!" exclaimed an old woman, wiping away tears from her eyes.

Azrael nodded.

"You freed us!" a middle-aged man shouted, embracing Azrael in a tight hug.

Soon, everyone was hugging Azrael and Erik, showering them with praises. Emotions overflowed as tears and laughter mixed in the air.

"No. Not me. This is the guy who burned the Goblin chief down. The monster was big and large and terrifying, but my friend here was brave and courageous enough to kill it!" Erik shouted loudly, giving credit where it was due. The spotlight shifted to Azrael, the hero of the moment.

Everyone cheered for Azrael, showering him with hugs and kisses. The atmosphere was one of jubilation and hope, with people rejoicing in the newfound sense of freedom and light.

As they celebrated, it became apparent that after the Chief fell, the Goblins and Hobgoblins began to disintegrate. Their bodies literally turned into ashes, disappearing into nothingness. It was as if their presence in the dungeon was tied to the existence of the Goblin Chief himself.

Well, that much was true. If a being is a part of the dungeon, whether for good or bad, the moment the boss is defeated, they too perish with the creature. It was a peculiar yet crucial aspect of the dungeon's mysterious dynamics.

The slaves were overjoyed by the turn of events. They celebrated their newfound freedom with cheers, songs, and lively dancing. Azrael found himself being showered with praises and gifts from the former slaves, but he politely declined them all.

He searched for his friends but they were nowhere to be found among the celebrating crowd. No one had seen anyone new apart from Azrael in the past couple of days.

'Where could they be?'

He had already dispatched people to search for an exit from the dungeon, as they had all entered in unconventional ways and there was no proper entrance in sight.

As Azrael walked alongside Erik, retracing the paths he had traversed earlier, their footsteps echoing off the cavern walls, a sudden grating and heavy sliding noise reverberated through the chamber. The noise pierced the celebratory atmosphere, prompting everyone to fall silent and turn their attention toward the source of the disturbance.

From the far right side of the chamber, dust billowed up as the wall suddenly split horizontally, revealing a small rectangular opening akin to a door. It was not the wall itself that moved, but rather a hidden entrance concealed within it. A voice boomed from within the newly revealed passage, echoing through the chamber with a commanding tone.

"Oh, here, here, my little slaves. New companions for you," the voice declared, its source hidden from view within the darkness of the corridor.