My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 196 Those Who Fight Part 3

While the battle at the gnoll defense line had been relatively easy thanks to the firestorm and some effective planning, the second battle at the cave entrance was much more brutal and hard-fought. By the time the remainder of the gnoll defenders had broken and fled, well over half of the attacking adventurers were either dead or too wounded to continue, and the rest bore minor wounds or were fatigued, Jack included. In fact, only Dawson the Daring seemed none the worse for wear as he jovially whistled and helped the survivors collect the wounded and loot the dead. Jack, for his part, took nothing from any of the fallen adventurers. Something about it felt wrong to him, although from the looks of things many of the survivors had no such moral qualms about the matter and took whatever could be salvaged without hesitation.

Within minutes the task was done, and the wounded that could walk made their way back to the makeshift hospital at the burned gnoll base. Those who could not were triaged, and a quartet of the healthier, less wounded were chosen to transport them to the hospital on makeshift gurney cots. Abigail took charge of this effort, coordinating the movement of the injured and performing whatever magical and non-magical healing she could provide before the wounded shipped off to the lower base.

Once everything was in order, those still in good enough condition to fight gathered at the cave mouth entrance. Seeing how few of them were left Jack more than a little disheartened. Barely a dozen remained, and of those more than a few looked more than a little worse for wear. Farlo bore a nasty gash across one cheek, and Urien limped ever so slightly with every step. But both of their faces were twisted in determination and hard with purpose, and after Abigail cast her last spell giving a bit of healing to the group, they looked a bit better.

Rose and Dawson sidled up beside Jack, and the rest of the group looked at him expectantly. Sensing that he was now in the lead, he nodded to the group and entered the main entrance tunnel. It was eerily empty, long, and unlit, running straight and dark for a long ways before reaching something lit in the distance. He held tight to Harrowbloom, expecting at any moment to be ambushed, but nothing happened. The corridor emptied out into a relatively round room, with a half dozen or so other paths branching out from it like spokes on a wheel hub. He paused for a long moment, looking from one path to the next, uncertain of which one was the correct one. Farlo walked up beside him.

"Which one?" The old man asked.

"I don't know." Jack said, looking from one to the next. "My vision only took me as far as the entrance."

Farlo furrowed his brows in thought, before stepping forward and crouching down. He inspected the stone, his eyes darting from one area to another across the surface of the ground. Finally, he clicked his tongue and stood up.

"Of the 6 paths, only two are consistently used. That one, and that one." He said, pointing to a path on the left, and then a path on the right.

"How do you know that?" Jack asked.

"The way the stone is worn. Its ever so slightly smoother and more polished here, and makes a triangle of faint polish lines from the entrance to each of those openings, and from those openings to each other. So one of those two will for certain lead where we need to be." He said.

"Makes sense." Jack said.

He looked back and forth between the two tunnels Farlo indicated. Lacking a better idea of what to do, he picked the one on the right, and headed down it.