A row of automatons stood firm in front of the dungeon core. Seeing them, Lucas felt a flicker of hope—it seemed like a chance to finally push back against the invaders.

  As a dungeon core, being cornered by intruders felt like a profound shame. Most dungeons would respond with hostility, but the prize was great, and the goblins kept coming despite the losses.

  For now, Lucas focused on the immediate threat: the goblins that had intruded on his home.

  “All of you, craft makeshift spears,” he commanded. “Carry as many as you can, but don’t throw them all. Keep at least one for hand-to-hand combat.”

  The automatons quickly obeyed. Lucas couldn’t help but marvel at their efficiency. These were no mere machines—they were like living beings, their intelligence far surpassing anything he had seen in his past life. Earth robots, if he remembered correctly, would have never followed an order like this with such precision.

  Each automaton now carried three wooden spears, with one weapon in reserve—a short sword. Only seven of them had swords; the rest wielded wooden spears, their primary form of attack.

  Lucas pondered his next move. A charge might be more effective than waiting, but he couldn’t afford to be reckless. The goblins had unlimited resources to keep besieging the dungeon, while Lucas only had a limited supply of wood.

  He wasn’t foolish enough to rush into battle without thinking it through.

  “If we charge, it’ll need to be a surprise,” Lucas thought aloud. “Midnight... But will they still be here by then?”

  He weighed his options. If he waited, the goblins might leave. But if he acted too soon, the chances of success were slim. He chose to wait—he couldn’t afford to gamble everything now.

  The automatons took their positions, ready to defend the dungeon core. What Lucas didn’t know was that the goblins weren’t waiting—they had already decided to attack.

  As soon as the goblins entered the passageway, the automatons followed their orders without hesitation.

  The spears flew with such force that they pierced through the goblins’ bodies and continued into the ones behind them. Goblins fell, but the others pressed on, undeterred by the casualties.

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  In the initial skirmish, eight goblins were killed, but the real battle began once the goblins closed the distance and engaged in melee. The automatons’ superior height and strength gave them an advantage, and they fought like machines—thrusting their wooden spears relentlessly.

  Lucas, watching the scene unfold, felt a strange unease settle in his chest. The brutality of the attack was unsettling, especially since it felt like he was the one doing the killing.

  For the first time, he questioned his morality. He had never hurt anyone in his life. Yet here he was, using his automatons to slaughter small, green creatures—his mind warring with itself over the necessity of survival.

  But survival came first. As the goblins fell one by one, Lucas pushed his doubts aside, focusing only on the next move.

  The goblins, though not particularly intelligent, were relentless. They managed to use the bodies of their fallen comrades as cover, gaining some advantage.

  Two automatons, stationed at the front, were struck down in the chaos. With the higher ground now in goblin hands, they charged. A mass of goblins swarmed over the automatons, their weight piling up and rendering the machines immobile.

  "Retreat!" Lucas shouted, desperate. "Fall back to the chamber and hold the line!"

  Another two automatons were lost, left behind to slow the goblins down while the others retreated. Six automatons were now destroyed.

  The remaining automatons regrouped in a defensive line, guarding the dungeon core. Minutes passed, but the goblins didn’t immediately charge. They seemed hesitant, likely sensing the danger.

  Lucas’s heart raced. He couldn’t act impulsively. This wasn’t the time to make another mistake. His gut told him that the goblins were waiting for something—but what?

  Finally, when the last goblin entered the chamber, Lucas seized the moment.

  “Now!” he commanded.

  The automatons threw their spears in unison. The first volley struck down nine goblins, leaving many mortally wounded. The second volley killed seven more, including those who had survived the first wave.

  Panic spread among the goblins. They turned and began to flee, but Lucas wasn’t about to let them escape.

  “Don’t let any of them live!” he ordered.

  The automatons charged, cutting down any goblin who tried to flee. The chamber quickly filled with the grim remains of their battle. Not a single goblin escaped.

  Lucas stood, breathless, as the last of the goblins fell. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of dread.

  First, at the forest. Now, here in the dungeon. He had been careless—he’d let his guard down twice. In this new life, he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake again. One more slip-up, and it could be his last.

  Anxiety gripped him, and a sense of paranoia settled into his bones. From now on, he knew he couldn’t trust anyone—not even himself.

  But there was no time to linger on those thoughts now.

  “I can’t afford to stay idle,” Lucas muttered to himself. “The dungeon needs to be cleaned, and I need to stay sharp. This is just the beginning."

  He set to work, clearing the remnants of the battle and preparing for whatever would come next.

  "What a day," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And I’m afraid it’ll only get worse from here."