The sound of clashing iron echoed in the room walled with gray bricks. Once, twice, three times, and so on.
Marie thought the fight would be a bloody, violent battle of life and death. However, her worries seemed to be in vain.
The Hobgoblin, her opponent, turned out to be not as terrifying as she thought. True, it could use a sword and a few times used techniques that almost wounded her. But they were very easy to predict. Like a beginner swinging its sword wildly and blindly.
Perhaps this was what Morgan saw when he first dueled her.
But a wild beast is still a wild beast. Sparks scattered from the clashing blades; every impact made her bones tremble, her muscles screaming in pain. Several times the sword was mere centimeters from her flesh, and a few managed to bite into her.
Even though she was now using the power Morgan had given her, she was still suffering. Without it, Marie would certainly have been cut into little pieces. Marie never expected to be given an easy opponent. In fact, she wanted an opponent slightly stronger than herself. Not out of arrogance, but because Marie wanted to gain experience.
Morgan himself 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 landed her attacks on its skin several times, but it acted as if it were nothing. Its eyes were completely fixed on her, full of murderous intent and bloodlust.
This was bad. Her mana was slowly being drained because she had to maintain her bless. Although her mana was abundant, the cost of using it was very high. Sooner or later, Marie would tire, and that chance would finally be used by the hobgoblin to attack her.
Even though she could recover her stamina with enhancements, it still consumed her mana.
Marie wondered if this was what the hobgoblin had been aiming for from the start?
Marie had to finish this fight quickly, or she would be finished.
Marie chose to be the one 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 certainly didn't stand still to receive her attack. Growling, it charged forward. Its arm stretched out, ready to slash Marie in two.
Swing.
Marie reflexively lowered her head; wind whistled over her head. Her katana was ready to be swung. It would only take one slash to cut open the hobgoblin's stomach. But...
Suddenly the hobgoblin raised its knee hard. 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 fight. Ignoring her ringing head, Marie gripped her sword tightly.
Before she could even get up, a black shadow already loomed over her. The hobgoblin was above her, thick drool dripping from its sharp teeth. Its eyes radiated bloodlust.
The hobgoblin gave her no time. Its sword swung brutally to behead her. The sound of metal clashing was deafening. Marie reflexively raised her sword just in time, blocking the blade just a few inches from her neck. Sparks flew from the clashing blades. Marie suppressed her scream, her muscles screaming. She lay pinned down, with the hobgoblin putting its full weight on top.
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 was about to break because the hobgoblin kept attacking the same spot repeatedly.
She couldn't stay like this forever. Her strength was fading. One small mistake and she would be devoured.
She tried to push, tried to roll the body off, but it was too strong, or... she was too weak.
The goblin swung again, this time raising its sword high, ready to drop it 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 thinking twice, 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 pierced through and met slight resistance before sinking in completely.
The hobgoblin's triumphant roar got stuck in its throat. Its eyes widened, its bloodlust fading, replaced by profound confusion. Its sword fell and stuck in the ground, a few 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 with red. It stared at the foreign object stuck in its body for a moment before falling still.
Marie still lay weak, the world around her spinning. 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 outburst 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 very disturbing.
There was no guilt. It was a monster and not 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 knew now. 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.