(A/N: This is a SFW version of the novel, for the NSFW one please go to my patreon page, link on my bio)
She sank down, sitting on the stomach of the dead hobgoblin.
#######
"It's time to get out."
She struggled to stand, legs trembling from the huge pleasure she just experienced.
She turned her hand into slime once more.
The liquid extended outward, absorbing all the mess on her body.
#######
Then she reached into her inventory, pulling out her clothes.
She dressed quickly, leather rustling in the silence.
Finally, she leaped up, scaling the edge of the hole then landing lightly on the cave floor.
#######
She happily clapped her hands together, satisfaction filling her chest.
[Beast Tongue: Allows the user to understand and speak the language of monsters.]
She paused, tilting her head slightly.
"Now that I think about it, I leveled up even before the hobgoblin died. Why though? I thought experience only counted after the enemy died."
She thought deeply, furrowing her brow but nothing came up, no answer, no logic so she just dropped the matter with a shrug.
She stood absently, eyes fixed on the floating system interface hovering in the dim light.
A new button caught her attention: [Logs].
She clicked it with a casual swipe of her finger.
Text scrolled down, revealing the intimate details of her conquests.
#######
[Current LP: 137]
Her lips curled into a greedy grin as she absorbed the numbers.
"I'm rich. Let's open the shop and go shopping."
Her excitement bubbled up, but she paused, clearing her mind.
"But before that, I need to reflect on the previous battle."
She leaned against a rough stone wall, eyes half-lidded.
Memories of the clash replayed in her mind.
Monsters side versus Goblin side, a chaotic war of survival.
With her current newly acquired knowledge from leveling up, the patterns made more sense.
She knew this place before.
Nazas Dungeon.
A sprawling maze carved from ancient stone and dark magic.
It had two distinct floors, each holding its own nightmares.
The first floor was home to the common races.
Slimes oozing in damp corners, goblins skittering in shadows.
Lightning wolves howling in packs, their fur crackling with static.
Deathweaver spiders spinning webs thick as ropes across the ceiling.
The second floor was the destination.
Where the Dungeon Core beat like a heart.
Housing the source of all power and danger.
"But to get to that Dungeon Heart, I have to get past the Dungeon Guardian or I can say, the Dungeon Boss first."
While lost in thought, she heard noises at the cave entrance.
A rustling of leather, the clank of crude armor.
Something was trying to get in.
"They are back."
Her eyes snapped open, pupils narrowing.
Then, quickly, she jumped back down the hole.
Landing softly on the pile of rubble where she left the hobgoblin's corpse.
*(Digging, scraping…)*
The sound started small, then grew louder as claws scratched stone.
Finally, the silhouette of the intruders showed up.
They were the patrolling goblins that had come back.
Around thirty of them, armed with spears and axes.
"What happened?" a goblin in the front asked, his voice trembling with fear.
His eyes darted around the pit, wide and fearful.
"I can understand them now. Nice." she whispered while hiding under the edge of the pit then clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
"Dead bodies everywhere. There are slimes, wolves, even the bloody spiders?" another goblin exclaimed, pointing a shaking claw.
He gestured wildly at the scattered remains of the battle.
"Look, all of our tribe mates are gone. No… no… no. What should we do?" another goblin whimpered, dropping his axe.
The sound of metal hitting stone echoed softly.
"The Chief. We have to find him. He will know what to do."
The goblins shuffled anxiously, their eyes searching the darkness for the leader.
They huddled together, forming a defensive half circle around the entrance.
Lyssandra watched them from the shadows below.
Then, *thud*, she landed in front of the scared goblins.
She dropped from the air like a predator descending on prey, yet graceful as a dancer.
They froze, looking at her like deer facing a wolf.
Frantically, they readied their weapons, hands shaking.
Some tripped over their own feet, stumbling backward.
Others dropped their crude swords before clumsily picking them up again.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome back to the show."
Lyssandra gestured a grand, theatrical welcome with her arms spread wide.
Her smile was dazzling in the dim light.
She could see big, glowing question marks hovering above each of their heads.
Confusion radiating off them in waves.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you the one who caused all of this?"
The nearest goblin questioned her, his voice stuttering and cracking.
"I am the cause, the effect, and the conclusion." she replied with a wink.
"You seem… unsettled. Did we interrupt your little meeting?"
"You… you speak our tongue!" the goblin gasped, pointing a trembling finger.
"And your magic is… shiny."
"Shiny magic? I prefer 'lethal beauty', but I'll take it."
She stepped forward, the goblins backing away in unison.
"Why did you come back?"
"We… we left to scout. We heard noises. We saw bodies."
"Bodies?" she feigned surprise.
"Oh yes. So much carnage. It's quite the sight."
"Are you going to kill us?" a female goblin squeaked from the back.
Lyssandra tilted her head, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on how entertaining you are."
"Entertain?" the leader goblin blinked.
"Yes. Amuse me, and I might spare you. Bore me, and you join the pile."
She circled them, inspecting them like livestock.
"Why would we do that? We can kill you right away!"
A goblin tried to muster all of his courage.
He yelled at her, pointing his spear while glancing back at their number.
Thirty one goblins could definitely crush a single human.
That was their logic.
"Tch, tch. Bad choice."
She raised a hand, casting a fireball with a simple gesture.
The spoken goblin turned into a living torch instantly.
He ran around screaming, flames consuming his small body before he collapsed.
Silence fell over the group, save for the crackling fire.
”30 is a nicer number anyway. Here, catch.”
She tossed a sphere object over to a goblin who was about to charge.
He caught the object with a weird emotion, confusion etching his face.
After taking a look at the damp, bloody sphere, he dropped it.
It landed with a wet *thud* near his feet.
He screamed while scurrying back, his legs tangled in panic.
"Chief! Oh no, it's the Chief's head!"
It was indeed the Hobgoblin head.
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