The sound of clashing iron echoed in the room enclosed by gray bricks. Once, twice, three times, and so on.
Marie had thought the battle would be a bloody, violent fight to the death. However, her fears seemed unfounded.
The hobgoblin, her opponent, turned out to be not as terrifying as she had imagined. Although it wielded a sword, Marie felt it was just swinging it randomly. No technique, purely wild instinct. Like a beginner swinging a sword, it just flailed its weapon around without any thought.
Perhaps this was what Morgan saw when he first dueled her.
But a wild beast is still a wild beast. Sparks flew from the collision of the two blades; each impact made her bones tremble and her muscles scream in pain. Several times, the sword came within centimeters of her flesh, and a few managed to bite into her.
Even though she was currently using the blessing Morgan had given her, she was still suffering. Without it, Marie would certainly have been chopped into tiny pieces. Marie had never expected an easy opponent. In fact, she wanted one slightly stronger than herself. Not out of arrogance, but because Marie wanted to gain experience.
Morgan himself had said that a thousand training sessions wouldn't have the impact of one real battle. But who would have thought her first enemy would be so unique?
Marie had managed to land several blows on its skin, but it acted as if nothing had happened. Its eyes were completely fixed on her, filled with murderous intent and bloodlust.
This was bad. Her mana was gradually draining because she had to maintain her blessing. Although her mana was abundant, the cost of using it was high. Sooner or later, Marie would tire, and the hobgoblin would seize that opportunity to attack.
Even if she could recover her stamina with a buff, it still consumed her mana.
Marie wondered if this was what the hobgoblin had been aiming for from the start?
Marie had to end this fight quickly, or she would be finished.
Marie chose to attack first, instantly closing the distance between them. She channeled power from the tips of her feet to her hands, gathering it in her sword. Quickly, Marie launched her attack.
The hobgoblin, of course, didn't stand still to receive it. Growling, it charged forward. Its arms stretched out, ready to slice Marie in two.
Swing.
Marie reflexively lowered her head; wind whistled above her. Her katana was ready to be swung. Just one slash was needed to cut through the hobgoblin's stomach. But...
Suddenly, the hobgoblin raised its knee forcefully. Marie couldn't dodge, and the knee struck her beautiful face hard.
The world seemed to shake, her vision blurred, and her body felt like it was falling backward. The taste of blood seeped onto her tongue, instantly reminding her that she was in the middle of a battle. Ignoring the ringing in her head, Marie gripped her sword tightly.
Before she could get up, a dark shadow loomed over her. The hobgoblin was already above her, thick drool dripping from its sharp teeth. Its eyes radiated bloodlust.
The hobgoblin gave her no time. Its sword swung brutally to decapitate her. The sound of metal clashing was deafening. Marie reflexively raised her sword just in time, blocking the blade mere inches from her neck. Sparks flew from the collision of the two blades. Marie suppressed a scream; her muscles screamed. She lay pinned, with the hobgoblin putting its full weight on her from above.
The hobgoblin roared in delight, then swung again, and again, and again. Each swing felt like a nightmare; each impact sent vibrations through her bones. Her mind was in chaos; all the techniques she had learned evaporated, replaced by the basic instinct to survive. Marie could feel her sword about to break under the hobgoblin's repeated attacks on the same spot.
She couldn't keep this up forever. Her strength was fading. One small mistake, and she would be devoured.
She tried to push, tried to roll the creature off, but it was too strong, or... she was too weak.
The goblin swung again, this time raising its sword high, ready to bring it down like a guillotine to end Marie's life.
In her peak panic, Marie's instincts took over. Not a complicated technique, but something primitive. She could see the wide-open gap in the hobgoblin's stomach. Without a second thought, she thrust her sword forward.
She didn't feel the clash of metal. What she felt was a strange sensation. Like stabbing a sack of wet sand, which then gave way, meeting slight resistance before sinking in completely.
The hobgoblin's triumphant roar choked in its throat. Its eyes widened; its bloodlust faded, replaced by deep confusion. Its sword fell and embedded itself in the ground, just centimeters from her head. Marie still lay there, her chest heaving, her eyes wide open.
The hobgoblin groaned weakly, then collapsed to the side, rolling on the gray stone floor now stained red. It stared at the foreign object embedded in its body for a moment before falling still.
Marie still lay weak, the world spinning around her. The small cuts on her body suddenly felt increasingly painful. Her eyes stared at the gray ceiling, listening to her own heartbeat.
Marie closed her eyes, a bitter peace enveloping her. Her feelings were strange. There was no explosion of sadness, no cry of regret. She remembered the sensation of her sword plunging deep into its body. It echoed in her head. It was deeply disturbing.
There was no guilt. It was a monster, not a human. It would have killed her if she hadn't killed it. She was given no other choice, and the world was better off without it.
She now knew. She knew what it felt like to push iron through the flesh of a living creature. That knowledge clung to her soul, like the smell of iron and blood clinging to her nostrils.
She had survived. But something naive inside her had died along with the hobgoblin on the ground.