Chapter 11: Conclusion

“Thud.”

The heavy double-handed axe fell to the ground, its metal blade clashing against the cave floor with a crisp sound.

Huff—

I panted heavily.

With the formidable enemy dead, the exhaustion and pain suppressed by my intense focus surged back like a tide.

Even with the two-point attribute boost from leveling up, my body’s utter exhaustion remained unchanged.

Using the burst from the attribute increase to kill the bear goblin with all my strength was already my limit.

If another monster of similar strength appeared now, in my current state, I’d have no chance of winning.

Spitting out a glob of bloody phlegm, I touched my chest.

That was where the bear goblin’s arm had struck me during the fight.

The pain lingering on my flesh was gradually fading with time.

“No broken bones, hopefully?” I thought, relieved.

Otherwise, with this world’s near-medieval technology, I had no idea how to treat it.

Then again, this was a fantasy world with supernatural forces—perhaps there were scrolls with healing magic or priests wielding holy light?

“Xia… Xia Nan…”

A weak, feeble call reached my ears.

Freshly out of combat mode, I finally realized someone else was still alive.

Maji looked utterly wretched.

One leg was shattered, bone fragments protruding, the knee held together by mere scraps of flesh, like the crude joints of a cheap market puppet;

his face was deathly pale, his quivering lips bloodless. If not for the faint spark in his eyes and the trembling from intense pain, he could have passed for one of the goblin corpses nearby.

“Waist pouch, red potion, help me…”

His consciousness seemed to be fading, his words halting and strained.

He was the last official member of the Rotten Fish and Shrimp team, a teammate who’d fought alongside me, the only one who knew the way out of the Mist Forest.

As a modern person with higher education, relatively normal values, and some moral standards, I couldn’t let him die, no matter the perspective.

So I crouched down, following his directions, and pulled a small bottle from his waist pouch.

Glass, shaped like a lab test tube, capped with a dark brown wooden stopper;

inside, about a third of it held red liquid, clearly used multiple times, faintly glowing when shaken.

Though he didn’t specify what it was, its strong familiarity made me guess its purpose at a glance.

“Health potion?” I uncorked the bottle for Maji. “Drink or apply?”

“Drink…” Maji nodded, mouth open. “All of it.”

Hearing this, I asked no more and poured the entire health potion into his mouth.

I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but I thought I saw a hint of reluctance in Maji’s eyes.

As if this staple from countless games and novels in my previous life was something precious.

And soon, I understood why he looked that way.

Almost the instant Maji’s throat bobbed, swallowing the potion,

his bloodless, pale face flushed with color, and his pupils regained focus.

The wound stopped bleeding, and his chest, heaving from labored breathing, calmed.

The effect was miraculous, like something from a movie.

But just as I thought the half-bottle would fully revive him,

everything stopped.

The broken bones didn’t realign, and his leg remained twisted.

Clearly, while the health potion’s effects far exceeded my expectations, it wasn’t at the level of regenerating limbs.

It could likely heal most light injuries and alleviate severe ones to some extent.

“Good, good.” After drinking, Maji was like a drowning man breaking the surface, gulping the cave’s murky air. “Thanks… thanks.”

Though his face was slick with sweat from pain, his voice was no longer weak.

“Go clean up the battlefield,” he said, pulling bandages from his pouch. “I’ll handle the rest.”

According to the unspoken adventurer rules Maji had explained, during cleanup, items like goblin ears with clear killers belonged to them, but other spoils went to the finder.

By telling me to clean up, he was essentially saying— the goblin lair’s loot was all mine.

Though I knew I wouldn’t have beaten the bear goblin without Maji’s two arrows, since he’d made it clear, I didn’t argue.

I nodded slightly to Maji and headed to the other side of the cave.

Unlike games where beating a dungeon spawns a treasure chest or clicking a corpse yields heaps of items, collecting loot in the real world was far more tedious.

First, the goblin corpses:

Bounties only applied to adults, so I mercilessly sent five green-skinned whelps to join their beastly fathers; I stepped on their heads, deftly cutting off the left ears of four goblins and stuffing them into my pouch.

Then came the meticulous scavenging.

The cave was small, its contents visible at a glance, but aiming to maximize gains, I searched every inch with a torch, finding some rewards.

Ignoring the inconvenient or worthless items, here’s what I collected from the goblin lair: three striped, pale green opaque gems, a small wooden round shield slightly damp and moldy, and a small bag of coins (hefty when weighed, mostly silver and copper).

“Are these stones valuable?” I wondered.

Meanwhile, Maji had tended to his wound.

“All done?” he asked, leaning against the wall, struggling to stand.

His mangled leg was now braced with a stick and bandages, still hard to move but no longer worsening.

“Pretty much, searched twice,” I replied.

“Twice? You missed the most important thing.”

Maji’s gaze held a playful glint as he nodded toward the bear goblin’s corpse.

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