Leon's sneakers scuffed against the uneven stone steps as he followed Saria down the narrow staircase, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
The air grew colder and damper with each step, carrying a faint stench of rot and metal that made his nose wrinkle.
Saria moved ahead, her black ponytail swaying slightly, her sword clinking with each step.
Her face remained an unreadable mask, her dark eyes fixed forward as if the oppressive darkness didn't faze her.
Leon envied her calm; his hands were clammy, and his stomach churned like he'd chugged a week-old energy drink.
"So, uh," he said, his voice echoing faintly in the stairwell, "when you say 'prisoners,' you mean, like… actual monsters? In cages?" He tried to sound casual, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
"Yes," Saria replied, her tone flat, not even glancing back. "Goblins, imps, kobolds. We keep them for study and other purposes. You'll need to pick out the one from your vision."
Leon swallowed hard, his mind flashing to the snarling green goblin from the vision—scarred, toothy, and way too real. "Right. Pick a goblin. No big deal," he muttered, mostly to himself.
Just like choosing a Dokémon. Except, y'know, it might eat my face.
He forced a nervous laugh, but it died in his throat as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
The basement was a cavernous space, lit by flickering torches that cast long, jittery shadows. Iron cages lined the walls, each holding a snarling, hissing creature.
Green goblins with pointed ears and jagged teeth rattled their bars, their yellow eyes glinting with malice.
Red-scaled kobolds hissed, their claws scraping the stone floor, while bat-like imps flapped leathery wings, their screeches piercing the air.
The stench was overwhelming—sweat, blood, and something sour that made Leon gag.
He froze, his legs refusing to move.
"Holy crap," he whispered, his eyes darting from one cage to another.
"This is… this is like my mom's face when I forgot to do the dishes. But, like, a hundred times worse." His voice cracked, and he clutched his tunic, trying to steady his breathing.
Saria turned, her expression as blank as ever.
"Focus," she said, her voice cutting through the cacophony of monster noises. "The goblin from your vision. Find it." She stepped toward the cages, her posture relaxed but alert, like she could draw her sword and decapitate something in half a second.
Leon's heart raced as he forced himself to move closer, his sneakers squeaking on the damp floor.
The goblins snarled louder, their claws reaching through the bars. He flinched, his mind screaming at him to run back upstairs. "Okay, okay," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Scarred face, angry teeth, super creepy. Got it." He scanned the cages, his hands shaking so badly he shoved them into his pockets.
Granny Elda's cackle echoed from the staircase as she hobbled down, her staff tapping the stone.
"Scared, boy? Better get used to it. These are the weak ones." She leaned against a wall, her wrinkled face lit with amusement. "Pick wrong, and the curse'll stay stuck to her like a bad rash."
Leon shot her a glare, though it was more nervous than defiant.
"Thanks for the pep talk," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned back to the cages, forcing himself to look at each goblin.
Their faces blurred together—snarling, spitting, all teeth and hate—but then he saw it.
In a cage near the corner, a green goblin with a jagged scar over one eye glared at him, its lips curled back to show sharp, uneven teeth.
It matched the vision perfectly, right down to the way its ears twitched like it was plotting murder.
"That one," Leon said, pointing a trembling finger. His voice was barely above a whisper, but he forced himself to stand straighter. "That's the one from the vision. Scar, teeth, whole… evil vibe."
Saria nodded, her face still expressionless. "Good. Standard green goblin. Weak, but vicious." She stepped closer to the cage, her hand resting on her sword. The goblin hissed, slamming its body against the bars, but Saria didn't even flinch. "This is the second component. You'll need to deal with it."
Leon's stomach dropped. "Deal with it? Like… what, pet it? Feed it? Because I'm not a zookeeper." His attempt at humor fell flat, his voice shaking as the goblin's yellow eyes locked onto him. I'm gonna die. I'm actually gonna die.
Granny Elda chuckled, her staff tapping rhythmically. "Oh, you'll see, boy. Ain't no petting involved. Tell him, girl."
Saria's eyes flicked to Leon, still devoid of emotion. "You need to kill it," she said, her voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather. "Its essence is part of the curse. Killing it binds the magic to you."
Leon's jaw dropped. "Kill it?" he squeaked, his voice hitting a pitch he hadn't heard since middle school. "I've never even swatted a fly! I'm a healer, not a… a goblin-slayer!" He gestured wildly at the cage, where the goblin was now clawing at the bars, its snarls growing louder. "That thing's gonna eat me!"
Saria's expression didn't change. "You're the healer we got. You'll do it." She pulled a jagged dagger from a sheath at her waist and held it out to him, hilt first. The blade glinted in the torchlight, its edge wickedly sharp.
Leon stared at the dagger like it was a live snake. His hands trembled as he took it, the metal cold against his sweaty palm. "I… I can't," he stammered, his eyes darting between Saria and the goblin.
"I'm not a fighter. I'm just… me. I play games. I watch anime. I'm not this guy." His voice cracked, and he felt a lump in his throat. The goblin's snarls seemed to mock him, each hiss a reminder of how out of his depth he was.
Saria stepped closer, her presence towering despite her calm demeanor. "You don't have a choice," she said, her voice low but firm.
"Eldwood's dying. My magic's gone. You're all we have." For a moment, her eyes softened—just a flicker, barely noticeable—but it was enough to make Leon's heart skip. She believed in him, or at least she was pretending to.
Granny Elda snorted, breaking the moment. "Stop whining, boy. It's a goblin, not a dragon. Stab it and be done with it."
Leon gripped the dagger tighter, his knuckles white. His mind raced, flashing back to every game he'd played, every time he'd mashed buttons to take down a boss.
But this wasn't a game. The goblin was real, its stench filling his nose, its claws scraping the bars. He took a shaky step forward, his legs feeling like jelly.
"Okay," he whispered, more to himself than to them. "I can do this. I have to do this."
Saria moved to the cage, her movements swift and precise. She unlocked it with a key from her belt, the door creaking open. The goblin lunged, but Saria was faster, grabbing its neck and pinning it to the ground with one knee.
It thrashed, its claws scraping the stone, but she held it firm, her face still a blank mask. "Now," she said, nodding toward the dagger in Leon's hand.
Leon's breath hitched. The goblin's yellow eyes glared up at him, its teeth snapping inches from Saria's arm.
His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the dagger. "I… I don't know if I can," he said, his voice barely audible. His stomach churned, and he felt like he might puke.
"Do it," Saria said, her tone unyielding. "For Eldwood. For me."
Leon closed his eyes, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. He pictured the vision—the demon's red eyes,
Saria's face on the altar, the town depending on him. He wasn't a hero, not really, but he couldn't let her down. Not when she was looking at him like that, even if her face showed nothing.
He raised the dagger, his arms trembling, and drove it down.
The blade sank into the goblin's chest with a sickening squelch. Its screeches turned to a gurgle, then silence.
A cold, inky sensation crawled up Leon's arm, like the curse's energy from before, but sharper, heavier. He yanked the dagger free, stumbling back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The goblin lay still, its yellow eyes dull.
Saria released the body, standing and wiping her hands on her tunic. "Good," she said, her voice as flat as ever. "You did it."
Leon stared at the dagger, now slick with dark blood, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "I… I killed it," he whispered, his voice hollow. He felt like he was going to collapse, his legs barely holding him up. "That was… that was awful."
Granny Elda cackled, hobbling closer.
"Awful? That was an easy monster, boy. Weakest of the weak. You'll be fine." She patted his shoulder, her bony hand surprisingly strong. "Two components down. One to go."
Leon's eyes flicked to Saria, who was already turning back toward the staircase. "The Solberry's next," she said, her tone unchanged. "Then the final component. Let's move."
Leon nodded weakly, his mind reeling. He'd killed something. Him, the guy who'd once cried when he accidentally stepped on a snail.
The dagger felt heavy in his hand, and the goblin's dead eyes seemed to follow him as he stumbled after Saria.
I'm not a hero, he thought, his stomach twisting.
But I'm in this now.
The curse, the town, Saria's magic—it all rested on him. And as they climbed the stairs, the weight of that responsibility settled deeper, mixing with the fear that he was still, undeniably, in way over his head.