Waine had downplayed it as a last resort. It was a desperate gamble and a worthless move you would never need against an opponent you could beat. The “secret technique” really wasn’t amazing at all. At the same time, I understood what he had meant when he said it was for defeating an opponent stronger than yourself. It was a move you could only use after you had accepted death. I had thought—no, sworn—I would never use it. I would never want to use it.
Until my spear broke. The goblin sneered, and it held its shortsword up high.
At that moment, my enemy was wide open.
Those words flashed through my mind, and I knew—I felt it, in my gut—that this was my only chance.
I hadn’t dropped my weapon on purpose. My spear had simply broken in two. The situation was almost identical to what Waine had described, except I hadn’t planned for it. My stance was off. There was no way I could dodge.
So I didn’t.
I’ll kill you. Those words, along with the fury raging in my chest, drove me forward. I threw myself into that desperate, last-ditch move right then and there and lunged straight into the path of the goblin’s attack.
I planted my feet, tensed my neck, ground my teeth, and kept my eyes wide open.
I had been trained to keep my eyes open even when attacked. Waine had hit me on my forehead over and over again while I wore the crude piece of headgear he had given me, a strip of cloth with an iron plate sewn in—a piece of equipment so flimsy it barely counted as armor. The simple browplate only covered my forehead, left my face completely exposed, and offered no protection from above, the sides, or behind.
I lined my forehead up with the path of the goblin’s blade.
The impact of sword against plate exploded through me. I didn’t hear the sound it made, but excruciating pain shot down my spine. My vision flickered as tears stung my eyes, while my forehead went numb and my head spun.
I let out a voiceless scream and lunged like a beast.
I shoved the goblin’s shortsword back with my head. I grabbed the goblin’s face, my hands covering its startled eyes, and pushed with all my might until I went crashing down with the goblin. It yelped when its head cracked against the earth, and I pinned it beneath me.
With both hands, I raised what was left of my shattered spear—
“Ahhhhhhh!”
—and drove the jagged, splintered end straight into the goblin’s disgusting face.
Its nose caved in, and its flesh split open. The blow shattered its cheekbone and crumpled its forehead. As its jaw snapped apart, broken teeth lodged deep into the back of its throat. I pounded its face relentlessly. Again. And again. And again. My arms burned with fatigue, while my hands were growing numb from the force of each brutal strike. Pain flared in my skull, and my spinning head was screaming in protest. My gut twisted in revulsion at each sickening crunch and the accompanying jolt I felt through the shattered shaft of my spear.
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop until it was dead. The method didn’t matter. Even without a spear tip, the result was the same. That was the most important thing, because I had learned—I knew—
“If you kill them, they die.”
A wet squelch sounded as my spear shaft suddenly refused to move. It took me a moment to even realize what had happened. Apparently, the broken piece of wood had jammed deep inside the goblin’s shattered eye socket. I gave up on retrieving it and looked down. The goblin’s face was unrecognizable, its features reduced to a blood-soaked mess. It didn’t so much as twitch.
I let out a shaky exhale. My lungs burned, and it felt like my whole body wanted to gasp for air. I was beyond winded from sprinting here at full speed before jumping into battle. I took a ragged breath and forced myself to stand. The moment I did, I heard a quiet, hitched breath followed by a small, trembling whimper.
I turned my gaze. Yune was staring at me, pale with fear.
Ah. I see. Of course.
I knew I looked terrifying to her. If our roles had been reversed, I would’ve been afraid too. I had pinned a goblin down, straddling it as I caved its face in, until it was nothing but a mutilated ruin and I was drenched in its blood. That must have been horrific to watch.
As I stood, my vision swayed and my legs wobbled. My mind blurred at the edges. Waine had said it didn’t matter how you killed, as long as you got the job done. That had to be a lie, because I was pretty sure the way you look when you kill changes how people see you.
Not that I care, I thought.
I scanned my surroundings and spotted the other half of my spear, the part with the spearhead still attached, lying nearby. I picked it up with one hand and pressed the other to my forehead, where the pain had finally caught up to me. I could feel a deep gash carved into the upper part of my browplate. Blood was seeping from the torn fabric and dripping down my face in thick rivulets.
So I hadn’t completely blocked that last strike. That wasn’t surprising. I had always thought this browplate was a crappy piece of armor, and now I knew I was right. To be fair, it had done its job. Just barely, anyway.
Wiping the blood from my right eye, I turned my back to Yune and walked away. My movements were frustratingly slow, and soon someone came up to me and stood in my way.
“What... What do you want?” I mumbled.
Liluetta’s face was drained of all color. She was racked with fear, and her body trembled. Even so—even with goblin blood splattered across her, even after everything she had just seen—her gaze held firm as she glared at me.
“Did you come here just to say ‘I told you so’?”
What is she talking about?
“Do you want to boast that you’re stronger than us?”
Why is she making that face?
“Or...” Her voice wavered. “Or do you expect me to thank you for saving me?”
Every question she spat out only seemed to wound herself, like she was stabbing herself over and over again with every word.
If it hurts so much, then why are you even saying any of this?
“I... I didn’t need you to come save me.”
Enough already.
I didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. The words barely registered in my mind, but I could still feel how loud she was. So loud. Without thinking, I lifted the broken spear and pointed the tip straight at her.