A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 75  Blades and Blood - Part 6

She would not let his opportunity go to waste. Just as the Hobgoblin landed another crippling blow with its fist, she unleashed her arrow, timing it perfectly so that the creature wouldn't have time to dodge.

Beam noted it too as it flew through the air. He could sense it flying. Just as had happened yesterday with the boomeranging stick that he used to try to get the best of his master, he used the opening offered by the arrow to attempt an attack of his own.

He positioned himself well, so that the arrow was charging from directly behind the Hobgoblin, whilst Beam stood in front.

Even his face was a mess of blood by now, from the numerous blows he had endured and the numerous times he had been sent flying through the air. He spat blood from his lip as he slid into a fighting stance and his mouth curled into a smile.

He could sense it in the air. For the first time in the fight, the flow had finally shifted in his direction. It was only the barest of whispers. Only a tiny thread that connected him to victory – but Beam could feel it gently urging him onwards. He used what he had dedicated the past week to – his misdirection training. He recalled his master's words, about understanding the intent of an opponent, about seeing the world as he saw it.

And by now Beam was beginning to understand just how a Goblin saw the world. Anger was the emotion that guided it, that lent strength to its every action. An overbearing animosity towards all of humanity. That was its greatest strength and its biggest weakness.

Beam sought to turn that weakness into blindness. There was a rock by his foot – he lunged for it, and threw it with all his strength towards the creature's face.

The Hobgoblin shattered it with a fist, but the flecks of rubble still hit it anyway. Hardly damaging it at all, but angering it immensely.

It bellowed an angry roar, grinding its fangs together. But Beam was already closing the distance between them now, and the arrow was a mere instant away from landing.

Beam slid under the sword that was rushing his way, even faster than he had managed it before. And as he saw the arrow go for the Hobgoblin's ear, Beam went for the exposed tendons of its hand – a hand that was so close by now that Beam could breathe on it.

With a slash, he inflicted his wound. The tendons felt like steel wire as he cut into them, but in his strike, he'd put in enough strength to compensate for that. He felt his blade run through them and he saw a spurt of green blood as the attack landed home.

The arrow was closing in as well, Beam watched with satisfaction as it proceeded to bury itself in the Hobgoblin's green ear.

Yet, in a flash, there was a mound of flesh in the way, preventing it from striking its skull. Instead, it ran shallowly into the meat of its palm, provoking a roar of annoyance, but not yet dealing true harm.

"Shit," was all Beam had time to say, as the creature rounded on him.

With its single hand – a hand now run through by an arrow – it gripped its sword and brought down an angry strike from overhead.

Beam dodged left, attempting to put distance between him and the Hobgoblin again, but where he went, the sword followed, supported by its massive reach.

Beam jumped to the side, in one last desperate effort at avoiding it – but his leg was still left there to receive the very tip of the blow.

"GAHHHH!" He cried out, as he felt the blade slash down the length of his thigh, before burying itself in the earth.

He gritted his teeth against the pain and desperately crawled across the forest floor towards safety, but the Hobgoblin was not inclined to let him live.

It sauntered over to him, relishing its victory.

The smell of victory had disappeared entirely, Beam realized. His one attack, his one moment where the Hobgoblin showed an opening – all he'd been able to do was make one of its hands useless, and that was in return for his own leg.

He clenched his fist in frustration, not willing to lose like this. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The sword blow came from the side this time, a contemptuous horizontal slash, aiming to sever Beam's neck.

Beam watched it, intent on dodging at the last second. He tried to run strength through his legs like he usually might, to generate just enough speed to set him to safety. Yet, with the muscle on his left leg so wounded, his body didn't respond like it should, and his jump landed short, sending him straight into the path of the approaching blade.

There was the sound of steel slicing through flesh and bone and then a thud, as a head fell to the floor. One more dead Hobgoblin.

Beam saw Dominus' back, as he cut the Hobgoblin down, his sword at his side, having just completed a single elegant slash that Beam hadn't even been able to see.

Chapter 9 – The Cruelty of The Gods

"You really did a number on yourself, huh?" Dominus said, as he sheathed his sword, not even sparing the Hobgoblin corpse next to him a single glance.

Beam groaned, pushing himself to his feet, trying to stand back up despite the wound on his leg. He managed it – but he could hardly put any weight on the wounded leg. It was far worse than he'd expected. Dominus noted it too.

"Mm, you're going to need stitches in that. Be rough going for a couple of weeks," Dominus told him, glancing at the wound.

"Guhh," Beam gasped with pain as he used a tree to support himself. "I failed again. How much did you see?"

Dominus shrugged. "Most of it. I saw you engage the first of the Goblins and tracked you down to here… Looking at your leg, I should have intervened far earlier."

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