The food was passable, the company was passable, and the atmosphere was passable. Though not much was said between the three adventurers, it was pleasant enough to eat meat and rest their legs after the long trek into the forest. Overhead, the sun was beginning to dip downwards, high noon slowly giving away to the orange of afternoon, and even the few insects they saw flying over the muddy stream looked a bit charming. Idyllic, that’s what this sensation was. After a week of intense training under the strict guidance of people who were most likely borderline psychopaths, it was nice to not have anything to do.

Well, financial troubles were still present, but such troublesome things could be considered at a later date. If they got used to living in the woods, perhaps they could just run away from Andeave altogether, living off the land and slowly becoming seasoned woodsmen rather than risking life and limb at an occupation as nebulous as ‘monster hunter’.

Ash had already offered a humble piece of flesh (also hardly cooked, but eh) to Kur-Inuus. Matteo was busy distracting Muu with conversation as he snuck a few extra slices of rabbit from the Bladedancer’s portion. Only Muu remained alert and paranoid.
And thus, only her efforts were rewarded.

Hearing something snap in their surroundings, the silent girl stiffened suddenly as she looked into the direction, back at the bushes behind her. "H-Have you heard something?" she tried to reassure herself. Another small animal, or a m-

The light danced off two sparking points within the bushes, and before Muu could think about the implications, her training took over and she dropped down, low as possible. An arrow whistled overhead, scattering against the tree behind her, but Matteo wasn’t nearly as lucky, a second arrow digging deep into his left upper arm, the pointed head stopping only once it reached the bone. Without pause, two humanoid creatures burst out of the bushes, discarding their shortbows for a club and a dagger, respectively. With bloated bellies, long ears and beady eyes, they most definitely fit the ‘description’ of goblin, monsters with the strength and intelligence of human children, sharpened to a jagged edge by territorial ferocity and monstrous voracity. Hardly a moment passed before they launched themselves at the adventurers.

One pounced onto the prone Muu, while another charged towards the still-seated Ash, both eager to finish off the prey their bait had lured.

Happy to finish off the not-so-hungry Muu’s leftovers (like it or not) Matteo’s mood could only continue to improve. The conversation was all right too, even if it was mostly a cover. Speaking of which, what kind of guild was the “Blade Dancers?” Since he’d been prioritizing efficiency at the time, Matteo had only read about the basic guilds in the guidebook and lazily foregone anything else. It sounds quite illustrious. The young man frowned a little. Ignoring her stammering, he pressed her for a little more information. “If I may ask, how did you…”

There was a whistling sound and a thud. Matteo felt the shock of impact run through him and he looked down at his arm, where the shaft of an arrow was protruding.

Ah.

He crumpled. The pain hit in a wave that made him clench his teeth as Matteo hit the ground, curling up to make himself as small of a target as possible. “Shit.” Shock still reverberated from the impact, a dribble of blood leaking from the arrow in his arm. Without thinking about it, knowing implicitly not to remove the arrowhead, he snapped the shaft with his other hand, still greasy with rabbit juices.

The newbie Thief was almost numb as he watched the two goblins (exactly how he’d imagined them, strangely) emerge from the woods and splinter off, leaping at the two girls on either side of the fire. Because he was injured, a loser, or otherwise unremarkable, Matteo was ignored.

I wasn’t expecting this. Not an ambush—he hadn’t thought the goblins would come to them. Fumbling for the dagger Ash had given back to him, Matteo rose shakily to a crouch. His arm throbbed, but he forced his muscles into a smooth, painful sidestep, still low to the ground. There were no snapping twigs or loud footfalls—he approached as quietly as he could, praying for his training to work the way he expected.

When it came down to it, though, Matteo hesitated. Right behind the goblin attacking Muu, the boy suddenly felt unsure. Am I just supposed to stab it in the back? Jump on top of it, try to wrestle it down? Slash at its ankles? It was moving, so it wasn’t exactly easy to go for its critical points. I’ll just get as close as I can, then wait for an opening to get him off balance. Right. Yes… He crept closer, catstep by catstep, half-cradling his injury.

His left arm throbbed. His right hand was sweating as he gripped the dagger. Can I really do this?

It all happened so fast. There was the sound, then the light, and at the end a pair of arrows. Muu could feel the warm ground pressing against her back. Her blade already in hand as the goblin towered over her. It all seemed so familiar, yet unreal. Blocking the coming down strike with the flat side of her blade - reinforcing the hold further by putting her hand on the opposite end of the handle - she avoided getting her head smashed in. Unlike a certain thief, she did not have the luxury to consider her current choices.

What now?

Memories fighting against her master played in her mind's eye. She was on the ground, the small goblin towered above. Was it even possible to swipe its tiny feet like that? Maybe. But in the end, with club and sword interlocked. Muu pulled her leg up close, and put all her strength into kicking her foes stomach.

The respite had been cut short by the sudden appearance of goblins and the pained grunt-like cuss of Matteo. Their confidence had been cruel in this insidious world. With the dagger-wielding goblin charging her, Ash could have just closed her eyes and let it end quickly.

Fuck that.

Ash wasn't just going to stand there and let this disgusting rot rat of a biped go to town on her body. By pure instinct, she knew she had to right herself. If she couldn't move, she couldn't do anything. Her hand digging into the ground with all of the strength she could muster, she launched as much dirt as she could at the face of the goblin. Even if it was blocked, it could buy her some time. As fast as she could, she pushed herself up. She didn't do anything fancy; not a single roll would come out of her body. She simply pushed off the ground to plant her feet on the ground and pushed up as hard as she could to stand. She didn't care about the strain. Mild pains like that were an inconvenience at worst, especially compared to getting stabbed to death by a dagger that's been god-knows where. She drew her machete, ready to make a heavy swing when the goblin approached.

The goblin was like a child, at best. Ash wasn't a strong woman, but she was certainly above average. Her machete had more range, seemed to be more durable, and more brutal than the dagger that the goblin wielded. If she could hit the goblin once, she was certain she could overpower it. If it tried to block, she was sure that she could break its guard. But what did Ash know?

“HUEK?!” went the club-wielding goblin as Muu collected herself in time, driving her foot into its distended belly. Her legs were trained, the beast was light, and with a sound impact, the goblin flew back, right into a still-hesitating Matteo. Nervous as he was, the thief wasn’t even able to align his dagger properly before the goblin slammed into his torso, sending both of them tumbling into the bushes. They fell into a disorderly heap, but it was the goblin that scrambled onto its limbs first, one clawed hand squeezing down onto Matteo’s throat while another hand swung down in a chaotic flurry of club blows towards his head.

Somewhere along the way, Matteo’s dagger had been lost, but the red puncture wound on the goblin’s back, not deep enough to be fatal but not superficial enough to be of no effect, showed that it must have done something at least.

On the other side of the fire, the dagger wielding goblin didn’t give pause at all as Ash recovered swiftly, her own machete drawn and swung. At such a low posture, such a small size, a powerful swing was more demerit than merit, and her first blow went wide, wide enough that the goblin leapt for her right foot, claws extended, jagged teeth revealed, dagger in motion. It would cling onto her calf and move up from there.

Unlike the first time, Matteo didn’t know what hit him. Well, it was a goblin, but he didn’t know why. One could draw a logical conclusion from seeing an arrow in one’s arm and an enemy standing nearby holding a bow. The same didn’t necessarily hold true for getting hit with a flying goblin when the only smoking gun was a prone girl who didn’t even speak at an audible volume half the time.

Regardless of how, by this point the nearsighted Thief was still working through his indecisiveness when the creature’s body hit him. And it was hard. He felt like he’d just been hit with a sack of potatoes. He wasn’t sure what hit him harder, the goblin or the shock. Or the club that the goblin proceeded to hit him with. By the time he got his bearings again, he was laying on his back in the leaf litter with the “local denizen” (as Mathers had called the creatures native to this area) about to choke the life out of him.

It was sure a good thing Matteo had learned to dislocate his bones in a tight spot, or the goblin’s hand around his neck would have—right, can’t exactly dislocate my way out of this one. He had a feeling his adversary was already working on separating his neck bones.

Dagger… Had he dropped it? Was it too much to hope it was still stuck in the goblin’s back from when he’d accidentally impaled a vital organ and that any second before Matteo passed out from lack of oxygen, the goblin would conveniently drop dead?

A little too late—as usual, when the necessity was literally crushing him—Matteo realized he should have been taking this seriously. Stay calm. There has to be something I can do— The river was too far, he’d never be able to roll himself and the goblin over there before he lost the battle for oxygen.

Gagging, head throbbing, arm bleeding, Matteo contorted his body wildly like a dying boa constrictor, scrabbling for traction with his boots to pry himself away. He just had to think of it like getting out of being tied up or one of the other insane exercises Seaweed had him do. Right? In sheer desperation, the youth hurled his weight to one side as quickly as he could, trying to catch the creature off balance and gain the upper hand.

Like a rat, the goblin had latched itself on Ash's leg. Even though she had missed her powerful swing, Ash's mind gave no quarter. If the goblin wanted to latch onto her leg, she would let it. That just meant it was close and would have more trouble moving. Ash held her machete horizontally, her grip as tight as she could. She held onto the blunt edge using her open hand and, like a guillotine, brought it down towards the goblin's neck, rather, anything that was close enough to be struck. Rather than leave it at one imprecise strike, she lifted the blade a short distance and swung down again and again. She took a bit of care in her flurry, making sure to try to stop the blade before it could cut her own leg.

Muu's freedom was only momentary. She did not relax. She did not sigh in relief. She did not take her time to get up. Her Master had drilled it well into her over the course of a week. No, even before that, the duels had felt like second nature. She had landed a successful blow against her opponent, but the duel did not end.

On her feet, the brunette gave a quick glance towards Ash before rushing off into the underbrush while drawing her blade. She could see Matteo's little legs and part of the goblin's green head peeking out above the bushy leaves, after all. One on top of the other, Muu went for a simple stab aimed at the goblin's head. Just like that.

The blood was everywhere, even if what was shed was hardly anything that more experienced adventurers would have been concerned with. Dark red splattered the leaves as Matteo struggled for air and for escape, his pounding heart only aggravating the injuries already incurred. The blows from the goblin’s club wasn’t enough to break bone or cause internal injury, not one so small, but it left cuts and bruises all the same. The goblin’s assault went unchallenged until Matteo suddenly forced himself sideways, tossing the green creature off like a rider off a bucking horse.

It was incredibly fortunate then, that Muu’s reactions were fast enough to shift the angle of her short sword moments before it sank into Matteo. The sword thrust into the bushes and the dirt instead, as the club-wielding monster sprang up onto its feet once more. Glared at them with hateful eyes, prepared for the next attack…and immediately turned, scrambling to attack the isolated Ash instead.

The knife wielding goblin had gotten off one good stab into Ash’s right calf before the cold kiss of her machete drove into its neck, cutting into leathery skin and sinewy flesh. With a sharper blade, she could have brought her blade into the bone of the beast’s spine. With a smaller blade, she could have held it icepick style and delivered a powerful stab. But the goblin yelped instead, pushing away immediately at the sudden pain and causing Ash to stumble on her punctured leg as well. Retreating a couple feet away, it snarled as its free hand patted against the injury and for a moment, Ash could read the indecision in its eyes.

But the shrill cry of its comrade roused the devil-beast’s own courage once more, and the two of them jumped at her, the club-bearing goblin swinging hard at her injured leg while the dagger-bearing one practically jumped onto her, trying to force her prone.

Broken twigs jabbed at right-angles into Matteo’s skin, uncomfortable echoes of the bleeding arrow still lodged inside his arm. The frenzied motion it had taken him to throw the goblin off hadn’t exactly been the most soothing treatment for an open wound. Blood oozed from the protruding arrow and from the small cuts left from the creature’s club.

He still had to bite back a startled exclamation when Muu’s blade buried itself in the earth right next to him. The youth sat up, feeling his bruises. “There it goes! Hurry!” he panted, cradling his bloody arm and pointing after the goblin. He staggered to his feet, pushing through the shrubbery. Where’s my dagger? If he wanted to have a chance at close-quarters, he needed something a little sharper than just his wit…

The shrill goblin howl from the other side of the fire spurred on the boy’s urgency. “Come on, where is it…” He’d been standing a little farther away when he’d been creeping up on the creature, but everything was a blur without his glasses. I’ll never find it unless I’m standing right on top of it, he realized and abandoned the search. Both goblins were attacking Ash now, he didn’t have time.

As he stumbled through the brush, forcing himself through the pain semi-automatically, the youth wondered why the goblins had attacked them in the first place. He’d have to think more about it later-- bursting out of the bushes, Matteo’s hand flashed out desperately, trying to catch the second goblin’s shoulder to drag him backwards away from Ash. Finding no purchase, his thieving fingers slipped down off smooth skin and Matteo found himself actually yanking on the back of the goblin’s loincloth. “Ugh.” He seized at its ankles instead and sat back hard, trying to pull the creature away with all of his weight at least long enough for Ash to get away or Muu to… well, do whatever she’d done to send that first one flying.

Muu's eyes were locked on the goblin as it dodged her attack, something akin to muscle memory redirecting her blow as to not hit Matteo. Damnit! The brunette thought with focus. Just how did it manage? No, it wasn't the goblin. They just had terrible teamwork.

Yet, there was no time to daddle as the monster simply changed its target. A part of Muu got weirdly upset. Angry, even. But her Master had told her to always stay calm. Maybe the blade was too dangerous. Instead, the usually shy girl pursued their attackers. They didn't pay attention to her yet again. Your body is a weapon. The sword a mere limb. An extension.

Pulling her weaponless fist back, Muu aimed with full force towards the head of one of the goblins.

Before the club-wielding goblin could make it all the way to Ash however, a bloodied Matteo scrambled from behind. His first attempt was brushed off. His second only tore off the dirty rag. But thieves were nothing if not tenacious, their extreme pain tolerance built up from constantly training under duress, their personal failures many times greater than the amount of successes they have gathered, and his third attempt, diving low and stretching out to pull at the goblin’s ankle, worked out. Yanked from behind, the goblin fell flat on his face, fanged face contorting into a mixture of humiliation and anger. Half-snarling, half-spitting, the dirty goblin raised his club up and brought it down with ferocious intent upon Matteo’s head.

There was a crack, and instantly, the thief went lax.

Kicking himself free, he scrambled up onto his feet, ready to assist the other goblin again, when yet another interception came, this time in the form of Muu’s fist. Her knuckles cracked against his teeth as she punched him, one fang smacked right out of his jaw as her own hand received some nasty bruising and a cut from the blow. Unprotected as her fist was, the impact ran into her very bones, even as the goblin’s own head snapped back. But pain was an afterthought when lives were on the line, and without hesitation, the monster launched himself at her, a veritable bodyslam that would send her tumbling back if she received it.

Right into the fire behind her.

Ash wasn’t having too much fun either. Without the assistance of the club-wielding goblin, the knife-user didn’t have too much success in breaking her dogged defense, but the wound on her leg only continued to bleed more, stakes of pain shaking up her body every time she was forced to take a step with it. For now, the superior range of her machete enabled her to ward off the knife-wielding goblin’s attacks, but she was running out of time, the warm, wet throbbing of her leg slowly giving way to a bone-chilling cold. And the goblin only continued attacking on and on and on, as if it could sense it too, that a mistake was imminent.

The stream ran thick with her blood, as the frenzy continued amidst clashing blades.

Freshly wounded, the pain surged though Ash's leg. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Even though the pain was unbearable, both her body and unconcious mind had been trained to be silent. Forced, rather. Instead of shrill shriek revealing itself, a gutteral gargle oozed from her throat.

As long as she didn't move, she could bare the pain. The goblin, however, forced her to keep moving. Each step brought forth a sharp pain. She couldn't run. With her leg in this condition, all that the goblin would do is chase her down. She had to wait for an opportunity to counter attack, but the clock was ticking against her. If one didn't show up, all she would hve to do is make one. By any means.

All she had to do was wait for the goblin to stab at a non-vital spot. Ignore the pain. That was all that there was. She was good at it. She couldn't remember why, but she knew that she was used to it. All she had to do was grab his arm, make sure he couldn't run, then go to town on anything she could hit.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. Despite a part of Muu's old self being used to some pain, she was also not. Her Mentor taught her to avoid pain in the first place. Not only did she feel a numbing throbbing, but the creature was still vivid! Muu didn't even get a moment to collect her thoughts as the goblin shifted its stance while the girl's fist was still connected to its face.

She couldn't formulate a plan.
She couldn't care about her wound.
She couldn't even think about the pain.

But... maybe this was exactly what she needed.

There was no before or after.
Only the here and now.

She didn't think. She didn't feel. Her multi-hour combat session against her master made her body act by itself. As the goblin charged forward, Muu made a quick step to the side, forcing the goblin to pass with its momentum. Muu, on the other hand, did a quick twirl to gather some force herself. Aiming with the knob of her blade, which she still held in her healthy hand, against the goblin's head. Forcing it to fall into the fire rather than herself. A fledgeling Blade Dancer indeed.

It was a masterful move from Muu, a crystallization of the evasive, counterattacking instinct that had been driven into her in the past week. Like a true dancer, she pivoted out of the way and cracked the pommel of her sword into the goblin’s skull. He cried out in pain, then howled in further agony as his body fell into the still hot flames. But there was no instant conflagration, the monster’s nudity working for it as he tumbled into the fire pit and then rolled out just as quickly, various burns marking his dirty, green hide. He hissed, spat further, and threw the first thing his hand grabbed.

As luck would have it, that object turned out to be Matteo’s knife.

The bloodied blade hurtled through the air towards Muu’s chest, and at the same time, the goblin burst off once more, scrambling on all fours past the Blade Dancer. She may be the most competent of them all, but her skill only extended to as far as she could reach. And the other woman, the ranger…she was certainly reaching her last legs now.

Indeed, for Ash, the question had turned from ‘what she should do’ to ‘what could she sacrifice’. As her defenses became more sluggish, as each blow got closer and closer to hitting something dangerous, the thought that dominated her mind was where she should get hit. A stab in the arm was going to paralyze her ability to counterattack. A stab in the belly was a slow, painful death. A stab in the ribs was going to puncture a lung. A stab in the thigh would likely cut open an artery and drain her dry. A stab in the calves was too low. The head was out of question. So her options, options, options, were w-

Ash heard those splashing steps too late. Had tunneled too far into countering the frenzied strikes to realize that the other goblin broke behind her. Leaping up, the club-wielding goblin grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her into the ground as a million pinpricks of pain burst through her skull. The knife-wielder, finally sensing an opportunity, straddled onto her stomach and clenched both hands around the hilt of the rusted knife.

There was a breath. An instance of anticipation.

And then, it drove the blade down towards her throat.

It hurt.

Being yanked by her hair, while it was short, sent jolts of pain deep into her core. Even though it hurt, even though she couldn't stand it, she couldn't stop here. It would only hurt more. But, even so, it was hurting less and less. Pain had been replaced by an inalienable cold. A frigid numbness that restrained her movements. If she could see herself, she would only see a figure more pallid than she already was. In fact, instead of her head slamming into the unforgiving stone, she felt it be soothed by the comparatively nice mud. She kept her wits about her. She forced herself to.

How she regretted not running away.

She still held on to her machete. While she was thrown onto the ground, her grip on her weapon remained tight. She needed to defend herself. With barely any time to react, she held her blade up. An attempt to block the dagger from coming down on her neck. Only, she didn't focus on the dagger. Held in the path of the goblin's wrists—their natural arc as they swung down—she attempted to block with both hands on opposite sides of her machete. Even if the dagger touched her throat, she was certain she would be fine. As long as it didn't go deeper than her skin, she wouldn't bleed out. That's what her instinct told her. She didn't know if it was true or not, but she would have to try. She was running out of options.

A sharp burst of pain. A crack, loud as a gunshot, simultaneously in and all around his skull.

And Matteo dreamed.
...

With a sound like draining water, light and color flooded back to his darkened senses. Vaguely he remembered sitting up, the world tilting, head spinning like a night after too much liquor. Oddly, the feeling was not unlike much of the training they’d put him through at the Thieves Guild. Pain. Poisons. Matteo’s lips moved, shaping a vague mumble, his hands reaching up to clutch the sides of his head.

In his dream, his hands were full of cards. His eyes, glasses intact, scanned their values. It was a good hand. A winning hand. Kings and aces stood out in sharp relief as he shifted his gaze beyond the piles of chips to the other player, masked by shadow--

What was happening? Knowing that seconds could be crucial, life-or-death, he forced his thoughts to process everything around him. Think through the pain, think through the pain... right... A goblin scrambled past him as Matteo sat up, turning to look after the beast. The world warped again as he oriented himself towards the stream, struggling through the throbbing and confusion. He’s got Ash. Was there anything he could do to make the goblin drop its weapon?

...The other player was faceless, hidden, unreadable. Rising panic choked Matteo as he glanced back at his hand and saw his cards had changed. There was no time to make a recovery, not this far in the game. His mouth went dry as he realized the chips on the line were worth sixteen years of textbooks...

It was strange, how a person could move on just momentum. How even staggering, unsteady steps in the right direction could build up force and speed. I feel like we’ve talked about this before. Was it at that first meeting-- that one meeting-- when they'd gone on and on how you didn’t need any experience or athletic ability, all you needed in the beginning was technique? Why was it so hard to remember?

The dealer’s fingers turned over the last card--

As he lunged, arms outstretched to tackle the goblin straddling Ash from the side, Matteo wondered why it felt so familiar. He turned his face aside instinctively and felt his aching head and chest collide with the creature-- he had to hope the momentum would be enough to knock the creature off Ash. Matteo was no heavyweight, but he weighed enough that maybe, maybe, he could pin it down in the water...

These... these things were no mere beasts! The goblin didn't flail itself in pain. It didn't slow down from exhaustion. It continued. It continued and continued and continued. Even after the flames seared its flash. Under other circumstances, a drawn-out fight, surely, she could have won. But here? She wasn't alone. There were others. And what would they think of her if that kept up? Her incompetence. Her weaknesses. Her whole being. All the girl wanted was approval. And the dead did not approve of the living.

There was no time. Using her already damaged hand to block the flying knife from any potentially fatal damage, she braced herself for the pain as her body twisted around - In the same direction, the goblin ran. She still had her own blade. Free from the task of defending herself against the flying knife.

This time, she would do it. No fist. No pommel. No easy to dodge pierce. This time, Muu would slice the goblin, slice him in a way he could not recover from.

It was a desperate situation but still, Ash did not break. Though the slicing capabilities of her machete were still heavily hampered by the static motions in which she applied it, the prone huntress still caught the goblin’s wrist by the bone. He hissed in rage, spittle spraying on her face, but no matter how powerful his initial strike was, the tip of the knife only pierced her skin, a pinpoint of blood rising out from the puncture wound rather than a bloody stream. Reeling back, his own wrists red but not heavily injured, the goblin snarled and grabbed the blade with one hand, holding it back as he reached forth to aim another stab into her eye.
But Ash’s friends didn’t fail her this time.

“Always aim for the gut, Matt.” He slapped the retching boy on the back, the warmth of an older brother translated in that comfortable roughness. “And always commit.”

Screaming without even knowing he was, Matteo pushed through his pain once again, his uninjured legs propelling him with frenetic speed before he shoulder-tackled the much smaller creature, His bloodied arm banged painfully against the machete that Ash had held up to thwart the creature’s first stab, but it was just another momentary burst of pain on a pile of agony that didn’t seem to matter too much. With superior mass, he propelled the goblin away from Ash, the two of them sliding into the muddy stream. In delicious irony, it was Matteo who was on top this time, his arm stubbornly wrapped around the monster’s waist.

The goblin howled and raged, but he had dropped the knife somewhere during that surprise tackle as well, and swung at the thief’s face instead, a desperate, frenzied pummelling that caused Matteo’s brain to tremble each time a blow came near the bleeding bruise on his skull.

The club-wielder too soon found himself occupied. Muu’s hadn’t come off well from smacking away a flying knife, a deep cut seeping out that precious crimson ichor, but the adrenaline was pumping through her veins now. Even one handed, she was strong. Even one handed, she was fast. Even one handed, she wasn’t at a disadvantage, and the short sword cracked with a powerful strike, almost cleaving the goblin’s club in half as he raised up to block.

But the slash was stopped regardless, and that was what mattered.

Releasing the handful of Ash’s hair he had in his hand, the goblin dropped his damaged club immediately, leaving it stuck on Muu’s short sword, before lunging straight for Muu herself. One claw grasped her dangling red scarf, instantly tightening it around her neck, while the other limbs clawed at her body, trying to find purchase so he could grapple at a range close enough that her short sword would be all too unwieldy.

Don't think about the pain. It was as simple as that. Pain was only a neurological response to physical trauma. It was nothing. It meant nothing. As long as she didn't think about the stab wound on her shin or her torn hair, then she was practically as right as rain. She wasn't, but she still could keep her wits about her. Thanks to the efforts of her party, she had time to breath. Time to think. Matteo had the upper hand, but who knew how long he could last. Muu was in trouble, but she was more competent that Matteo. Being choked by a scarf wasn't the worst. At least, that's what Ash thought.

"Matteo! Keep him down!"

She had decided to help the boy. Her biggest issue was the goblins kept dodging. If the goblin was restrained, then Ash could easily hit it. Ignore the pain. The mantra continued. She stood and charged towards Matteo. A quick cleave downwards on the goblin's neck. Once, twice, three times. As many times as it would take, she would cleave into the goblin's neck. As long as Matteo could restrain the goblin, she could do it. Then, the two could push their numbers advantage.