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Yet, the true test remained in the shadows. Four hulking figures loomed at the back of the cave, their pseudo seven-star auras pulsing with restrained power. Nevaeh was fighting but he had his guard up against, so he \'ignored\' them for now, focusing on the immediate threat. He fought with a feral intensity, his very clothes slick with goblin grene blood.

Ten goblins became twenty, twenty became a hundred, and still he pressed on, his relentless fury fueled by each fallen foe.

Fear finally gnawed at the remaining goblins. They broke formation, a desperate scramble for the cave\'s dark corners. Their escape attempt was short-lived. A chilling laugh echoed from the back, and one of the pseudo seven-stars cut down the fleeing goblins with a single, brutal swipe. A monstrous goblin elite stepped forward, his greatsword dwarfing even Nevaeh\'s broadsword.

A silent challenge, a duel. Neveah though that this goblin might have been a chief or a leader of some kind considering it wore some decorations on it like the tooth necklace with gold rings on the tooth, the ruby earrings and the respect that the other psuedo seven stars gave him.

Nevaeh, he took a deep breath simply stared. Then, with a flicker of movement almost too fast to see, a dark figure materialized behind the goblin chieftain. Nevaeh, with his black ice dagger imbued with dark magic. With a savage growl, he unleashed a gravity-enhanced thrust, aiming for the elite\'s neck.

The goblin chieftain, however, was a seasoned warrior. He spun with surprising agility, parrying the blow with his greatsword. Even with the element of surprise lost, the dagger held firm. Nevaeh\'s face remained an impassive mask, but a sliver of frustration flickered in his red eyes. He conjured dark spikes from the shadows, only to have them cleaved in two by a blinding flash of golden light. Aura.

This goblin used aura, a power far beyond anything Nevaeh had encountered in his training.

A cold fury settled over him. Pseudo seven-stars, aura-wielding goblins – the strangeness of this situation gnawed at him. These weren\'t the feral rabble he expected. This was something new, something that demanded a reevaluation of everything he thought he knew about this "garden." Nevaeh straightened, his gaze locked on the elite. This just got a lot harder.

A desperate gamble coursed through Nevaeh\'s mind. "How strong was aura?" It gnawed at him. Mother\'s soldiers were formidable, but none wielded this strange power. This unexpected foe presented a unique opportunity – a chance to hone his own abilities. This goblin, then, became a twisted training dummy. Nevaeh attacked relentlessly, probing for weaknesses, creating them when he couldn\'t find them.

In turn, the goblin\'s aura-coated sword cleaved through his ice defenses, forcing Nevaeh to dodge in a bloody ballet. Sometimes, the blows found their mark, taking limbs and leaving him punctured and bleeding.

But through the pain, adaptation bloomed. Nevaeh was adapting. His ice shields grew denser, the chilling barrier increasingly resistant to the goblin\'s attacks.

Nevaeh even experimented with gravity, trying to unbalance the goblin. However, the chieftain countered with an unexpected maneuver – he coated his body with mana, nullifying the gravity\'s effect. Frustration amd confusion etched itself on Nevaeh\'s face.

This wasn\'t a training session; this wasn\'t a lesson with a patient teacher; this wasn\'t a lesson with a chance for questions it was a brutal fight for survival,a death match and his questions would have to wait.

The battle dragged on. The fight wore on. The goblin chieftain, while powerful, began to tire. Nevaeh, however, fueled by regeneration and a relentless pursuit of knowledge, seemed to grow stronger. He saw the chieftain falter, seize the opportunity, and plunged an ice dagger towards the goblin\'s heart.

But still the goblin reacted with surprising speed. Earth magic erupted around Nevaeh\'s legs, pinning him in place. The chieftain, dropping his aura-coated sword, lunged for the kill. In that split second, Nevaeh made a horrifying, instinctive decision. With a cold efficiency that seemed at odds with his youthful face, he severed his own legs below the knee, He rolled away, but not fast enough.

The chieftain\'s attack connected, a sickening crunch as his blade sliced through Nevaeh\'s body, a diagonal wound from his shoulder to his thigh.

Both warriors lay there, broken and bloodied. But Nevaeh, seasoned in such encounters, saw his chance. Ignoring the pain which he barely felt, he used his remaining strength to conjure an ice spike.

He used this opportunity to kill the goblin and shot ice spikes towards it. Seeing this the spectating 3 psuedo seven stars launched forward to stop the attack and save the injured goblin. They managed to destroy them, they thought but they\'d poorly destroy them a small chunk was fell near the injured goblin.

He wasn\'t done. He molded the stray shard of ice left from the shattered spike that was near the injured goblin. Isolde warriors were masters of their element, and Nevaeh used that connection to mold the shard into a deadly projectile. With precise aim, he launched it towards the goblin\'s eye, piercing its skull. Ice erupted from within, causing the chieftain\'s head to explode in a gush of gore.

The spectating pseudo seven-stars, frozen in shock by the brutality of the fight, finally reacted. With a roar, they charged, determined to avenge their fallen comrade. Nevaeh, his body now healing getting back to optimum condition, braced himself for the final onslaught.

The air crackled with a tension far heavier than before. These goblins were unlike any Nevaeh had encountered. They were clever, adaptable, trained and wielded an unknown power. Aura.

Whatever, one down. Three to go.

He looked at the three pseudo seven-stars remained.

A clash was about to happen.