The clash was frantic, messy, and full of wild swings. Darkness, branch in hand, fought with a blend of desperation and noble flair. The first goblin fell beneath her clumsy but heavy strikes, and with a defiant shout she pressed on against the second and third.
The branch cracked across a skull, splintered against a shoulder, and finally—through sheer persistence and stubborn endurance—she managed to topple the last of them.
Panting, hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, she stood tall amidst the fallen.
"Haa… haa… look at me now!" she cried, voice trembling with pride. "Unarmed, outnumbered, and yet I have triumphed! Surely, even in this strange land, the name of Draymore shall—"
She froze mid-sentence.
Something tugged at her leg.
Her eyes darted downward. One of the goblins, battered but not quite broken, had crawled across the dirt, its clawed hand latching onto her thigh with surprising strength.
"—ah!?"
Her cry was sharp and startled, her balance faltering as she stumbled backward. The branch slipped from her hands, clattering uselessly onto the stones.
How… careless! How could I celebrate so soon? Fool, fool, fool! I should have finished it—ahh, why must I always let my joy blind me?
The goblin's grip tightened, dragging at her leg, its snarling face rising toward her. Darkness's heart pounded, her thoughts spiraling between shame, panic, and a faint, reckless thrill.
Still, her eyes hardened.
"No… no, I will not fall here," she whispered to herself, voice shaking yet stubborn. "If my enemy still clings to life, then I shall strike again, until the very last breath is torn from his chest!"
Her hand stretched, trembling, toward the broken branch at her feet.
The goblin's claws clung to her thigh, its battered body somehow still brimming with feral energy. Before she could snatch the branch, it lunged upward, knocking her off balance. Darkness gasped as her back struck the dirt, her one-piece clinging even tighter to her frame as the creature straddled her.
"Wha—!?" she cried, her arms pushing at its wiry chest, but the goblin's grip shifted, pinning her wrists to the ground.
Her heart hammered, not only from fear but from the bizarre form the struggle took. The goblin wasn't clawing or biting—it was grappling, twisting and pressing with crude, almost mocking mimicry of wrestling holds. Its hands roamed for leverage, sliding along her waist, her shoulder, her thigh, pressing her into the ground with humiliating force.
Darkness writhed beneath it, teeth clenched.
This… this isn't even a proper fight… it's a contest of bodies! No blade, no clean strike, only… heat and weight… ahh, what sort of battle is this!?
The goblin snarled in triumph, mistaking her flushed face for weakness as it ground its forehead against hers, its breath hot and foul. Darkness's body strained, every curve outlined by the stretched black armor.
Her thoughts swirled—fear, shame, and a dangerous spark of reckless excitement.
He seeks to humiliate me. To pin me, to grind me into the soil like prey… fufu… then so be it! If this is the trial I must endure, then I shall endure it fully!
Gathering her strength, she twisted her hips violently, trying to break the goblin's mount. Their bodies slid against one another in a brutal, awkward wrestle, her muffled grunts meeting his growls, a clash of flesh and will instead of steel.