When everything finally quieted down, Adrian stayed still, waiting.Just a little longer.Once he was sure nothing else was coming down on him, he lowered the stone sphere around him.
Dust hung in the air like fog.The fires were gone—snuffed out or crushed—leaving the cave in darkness.It took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
In front of him, a jagged pile of rock.Beneath it… trolls. Dozens of them.Most were dead, their bodies twisted and broken beneath the fallen cave.Only a few survived—the ones who had been in the sections that didn't collapse.He could hear their faint, pained groans echoing from the distance, but none were close enough to be a threat.
Then he saw it.The king troll.Or what was left of him.
Crushed under the largest slab of stone, its skull split clean open, a broken crown tangled in what was left of its matted hair.The gem that had once rested at the center of the crown now lay shattered in front of Adrian—five jagged pieces, glinting faintly in the dark.
Adrian picked them up one by one, turning them over in his hand before sliding them into his pocket.They pulsed with something. Even broken, they held power.
He looked up.The roof of the cave was… higher now.Exposed by the collapse. A strange openness, eerie and cold.But it was stable. For now.
With a heavy breath, Adrian turned and began clearing the rocks out of his path. One by one. Slowly.His body ached, his arms screamed with every lift.No more mana. No more tricks. Just sweat and willpower.
His stomach growled.His vision blurred once or twice.But he didn't stop.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the light of the outside world touched his face.Cool air rushed in as he pushed the last stone aside and stepped out of the cave.
Adrian sighed, shoulders sinking, eyes closing for a moment of peace.He made it.
Adrian turned back to look at the ruined cave, his expression somber."I'm sorry it led to this," he murmured. "I hope the mother and her child survived, at least."
He lowered his head for a brief prayer.
Then, slowly, he began making his way back toward the perch he'd created before all hell broke loose.Climbing up was a struggle—every movement a test of willpower.His ribs throbbed, still broken, still unhealed.But eventually, he reached the platform, collapsed onto it, and finally—finally—let himself breathe.
His sword and rope were gone.Must've fallen during the chaos, trampled under troll feet.He didn't care.He could buy a better one later—with the money he'd get from selling the gem and completing the quest.
The quest… he thought, wincing as he reached into his pocket.The blood orbs were still there.All of them. Safe.
Relieved, he pulled out one of the five whiskey orbs he'd brought.He tried to decompress it—to open it with mana—but nothing happened.His mana reserves were dry.
"Fucking hell… I can't even drink to numb the pain," he thought bitterly.
The orb slipped from his fingers, rolled down a branch, and got stuck in the twigs below.Adrian didn't bother moving. He just laid back and let sleep take him.
The night passed.He was awakened by the soft thunk of stones being tossed.
Adrian opened one eye and looked toward the noise.Survivors. Trolls. Clearing the debris. Moving rocks, dragging corpses.
He sat up suddenly—pain shooting through his chest—and everything from the night before rushed back into his mind.It had all felt like a bad dream.But he was alive.That part was real.
His body still ached, but his mana had started to return.
"Ahh—ahh…" he groaned, placing a hand over his chest. "Vitalis."
His body glowed a soft pink.The pain faded. Bones shifted back into place.Muscles relaxed. His lungs drew in a deep, easy breath for the first time in hours.
"Ahh… that's better," he sighed, cutting off the spell."It's time to go back."
Adrian stood and checked the blood orbs again."All safe."
Then he spotted something—caught in the branches from last night.The whiskey orb.
He plucked it free and smiled, more relieved about its safety than his own survival.
Adrian climbed down and glanced across the clearing.The trolls were still working, still alive.And among them—he saw them. The mother. The child.Both unharmed.
A wave of quiet guilt passed through him.
He looked down at his hand, remembering the shattered crown and the king's final moments.Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the gem fragments.
"Ahh. Broken."
He focused, channeling mana into the shards.They lifted, floated, and slowly drew together—seam by seam—until they formed a single, flawless gem once more.
"Nice."