The goblins advanced with shrill cackles, brandishing their chipped blades and clubs. Selvara's declaration still echoed in the fields, proud and brazen—yet as her hand reached instinctively for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there, her heart froze.
Her fingers grasped only empty air.
…Eh?
The realization struck like lightning. She had no weapon. Not even a dagger. Nothing but the cursed black one-piece clinging scandalously to her skin.
Her eyes widened.
Wha—what am I doing?! Standing here so boldly without a sword… what knight forgets her weapon?! Oh, Darkness, you absolute fool! They must be laughing at me not only as prey but as a clown!
Heat rushed to her face. The goblins stepped closer, sensing hesitation, their laughter turning crueler.
She spun on her heel and bolted, the glossy fabric of her one-piece pulling tight against her thighs with every desperate stride. Her long hair whipped in the wind as she stumbled over roots and grass, lungs burning.
Behind her, the goblins jeered and shouted, but they did not pursue far. She only stopped once she had burst into the shadow of a grove at the edge of the fields, collapsing against a tree.
Panting heavily, she pressed a hand to her flushed face.
I ran… me, Selvara Draymore, descendant of noble blood—I fled before goblins! What shame! What disgrace! Oh, but… better to live and learn than to be cut down like a fool, yes? Yes, that is the noble way! Still… the villagers will surely laugh if they hear of this. And the guild… oh, I cannot bear to think of it…
She bit her lip, scanning the ground, frantic for a solution.
I need a weapon. A knight cannot fight barehanded, no matter how durable her body may be. But I have no coin, no steel, no shield…
Her eyes fell upon a fallen branch, thick and straight enough to serve as a makeshift cudgel.
With a trembling hand, she picked it up. The wood was rough, but heavy, and surprisingly well-balanced. She gave it a hesitant swing, the air whistling faintly around it.
…Yes! Yes, this shall suffice. Not a blade of steel, but a symbol of my determination! A knight of Draymore does not falter merely because the world strips her of arms—no, she adapts! This humble branch shall become my holy weapon, my companion in the trials to come!
She raised it high, eyes sparkling with almost childlike pride, though her cheeks still burned crimson from her blunder.
Still… perhaps I should not announce my challenges quite so loudly until I am properly equipped…
With renewed resolve, she set off again, clutching her wooden weapon tightly, ready to redeem her honor.
Darkness steadied her breath, the rough branch firm in her hands. She had only taken a few cautious steps deeper into the grove when a low snarl pricked her ears.
From the shadows, a lone goblin emerged. Its yellow eyes gleamed with hunger, and in its claws it held a jagged shard of iron.
Her heart skipped.
So… one followed me. Of course. They're small, cunning hunters… and I, foolish as ever, left my back wide open. Ahh… how shameful! To be cornered here like some trembling maiden! But… no more running. No, not this time. I am Draymore! I will stand!
The goblin lunged. She barely had time to brace—swinging the branch with a clumsy but powerful arc. It cracked against the creature's arm, forcing it back with a shriek.
Her hands stung, but her eyes lit up.
Yes! It works—it truly works! A knight needs not steel if her will is firm!
The goblin circled, slashing wildly, but Darkness pressed forward, striking again and again. Each blow rattled her bones, yet she only grew more resolute. At last, with one heavy downward swing, the branch crushed against the goblin's skull. It crumpled to the dirt with a pitiful hiss.
Silence fell.
She stood there, chest heaving, sweat sliding down her temple, her improvised weapon trembling in her grip. Then—she laughed, breathless, exhilarated.
"Haa… ha-ha-ha! I did it! Alone, weaponless, forgotten by fortune, and yet—victory smiles upon me! O noble Draymore blood, your flame has not faltered!"
She struck a triumphant pose, branch held high like a sacred sword, lips curling in a radiant smile.
But then…
The undergrowth rustled.
Two more goblins stepped into view, their grins sharp, their claws dripping anticipation.
Her breath caught.
…Oh no. Of course it wouldn't end with one. Victory was too sweet, too swift. Ahh, Darkness, you fool—did you truly think glory came so easily?
She swallowed hard, her branch suddenly feeling far too small against the odds.
Still, her stance tightened, her cheeks flushed with equal parts fear and thrill.
"Very well," she whispered to herself, eyes gleaming. "Then this knight shall triumph twice more before the day is done!"