There were other hunters inside that dungeon. After all, most hunters started in the lower ranks, coming here to grow stronger and level up.
Only a few had awakened with powerful classes or possessed the talent to fight and master skills quickly. Money also played a huge role. The wealthy could hire experienced tutors to accelerate their growth.
Some even paid others to join their parties inside dungeons, helping them kill monsters. For reasons no one fully understood, it was impossible to simply leave the last hit to one person. That was why these hired hunters were usually support types, focused on buffs. With their help, weaker hunters could easily defeat monsters and level up at a faster pace.
So when all those hunters saw threads of mana descending from the sky and converging on a single point in the dungeon, confusion spread.
"Is a boss spawning?" one hunter asked his friend. "Want to check it out?"
"Yeah, but I bet others will go too. We need to be careful."
Groups of hunters began moving toward the place where the mana threads had gathered—toward Arthur.
Arthur, however, was already leaving. He had received a quest, and now his priority was to find the goblin tribe under attack.
Fortunately, the system had given him a few hints about where to look. It wasn't like a game with a glowing marker pointing the way, but the guidance was enough to help him track down the village.
Arthur walked through the dense forest without the slightest trace of fear. While normal hunters would have been on edge, constantly alert to their surroundings, Arthur remained calm.
After about ten minutes, he spotted the goblin tribe. It was small, with only eight huts built from wood and foliage. The settlement sat beside a narrow stream and was surrounded by a crude fence of sharpened logs, meant to ward off intruders.
As he approached, one of the goblins standing near the gate shouted at him.
"Get inside quickly! The wolves are coming!"
The goblin's voice was comical, but what shocked Arthur was that he understood it perfectly. This was yet another hidden ability he had gained after binding himself to the dungeon.
Without hesitation, Arthur dashed into the tribe. The feeling was strange. For the first time, he realized the goblins seemed to genuinely care about him—something he had never felt from humans.
Inside the village, chaos reigned. Goblin warriors scrambled to arm themselves, while the women and children hid inside the huts.
For a brief moment, Arthur thought they didn't seem so different from humans after all.
As Arthur stood in the middle of the tribe, a goblin approached him carrying a crude spear—its shaft carved from wood, its tip sharpened stone.
The weapon wasn't large in Arthur's hands, clearly designed for goblins, but it was better than nothing.
"Take this," the goblin said. "Help us defend the tribe. We can't let the wolves reach the children or the women."
The goblin spoke to him as though he were one of them, a warrior who had lived in the tribe for years.
Arthur's mind stayed focused on the mission and the rewards he would earn. But that was not the only thing that fueled his determination. The goblins treated him well, and for that, he would do anything to protect their tribe.
He accepted the spear, gripping it tightly, and moved toward the gate where the other goblins were gathering. Their levels appeared before his eyes:
[Goblin Swordsman]
[Level: 3]
[Goblin Archer]
[Level: 4]
The strongest among them was the tribe's current leader, a goblin at level 6.
Even though their levels were low compared to higher-ranked dungeons, they were still far above Arthur, who was only level 1.
After about three minutes, creatures emerged from the forest. Wolves—but far larger than any Arthur had ever seen in documentaries.
Their pelts varied, some pitch black, others pure white. Though similar in size, it was clear they had a hierarchy, just as the goblin tribe did.
[Black Wolf]
[Level: 3]
The wolves' levels were lower than the goblins', but the problem was their sheer numbers. They kept pouring out of the trees—Arthur counted nearly thirty of them.
At his side stood only thirteen goblins ready to fight. The difference was staggering.
"What are we going to do?" Arthur asked the goblin leader.
"Fight, of course. We have nowhere to run. Archers, prepare!"
The goblin archers moved to the back, nocking arrows, while Arthur and the other goblin warriors took their place at the front line.
Even though Arthur was only level 1—far weaker than every other creature in this battle—he felt strong.
After gaining attributes from his connection to the dungeon, he could sense the difference in his body. His muscles felt tighter, his reflexes sharper. Whether that strength was enough to match the wolves, he didn't know. The only way to find out was to fight.
With the spear in hand, Arthur focused entirely on the battle about to erupt. Nothing else mattered. He had to protect the tribe. He had to survive.
The wolves charged, the pounding of their paws echoing through the village. Dozens of massive beasts rushing together was terrifying, their snarls and growls filling the air.
But when Arthur glanced at the goblins beside him, he saw no fear in their faces. Their eyes burned with determination. They were ready to die if it meant defending their home.
Arthur tightened his grip on the spear. For the first time, he felt like he wasn't alone.
Arthur couldn't let anything happen to those poor goblins. He knew he had to make a difference.
Without thinking of the consequences, he charged straight at the wolves.
"Die, you bastards!" he roared like a wild beast.
The goblins shouted after him, "Stay close to us, don't go alone!"
But Arthur ignored them.
The first wolf lunged, jaws wide, razor-sharp teeth ready to tear into his flesh. It slammed him to the ground.
For a moment, the goblins thought Arthur was dead. But he wasn't.
He had thrust his spear upward, driving it deep into the wolf's chest. With his newfound strength, Arthur lifted the beast and hurled it aside.
Blood covered his face, but it didn't disgust him. It didn't frighten him. The adrenaline surging through his body was far too strong.
"That was only the first," he muttered, his voice cold, like that of a killer.