It was late afternoon by the time Yoshiya and Omina left Brenn's forge. They wore only their casual clothes, carrying their shield, sword, and wand as they made their way back toward the cabin in the woods. Yoshiya had a bundle of meat under one arm, while Omina clutched her herbs—so many that her pouch nearly burst.
Just before leaving Orleaf, they passed a young boy selling clay crafts on the roadside—pots, urns, and little figurines.
"Let's see," Omina said, smiling brightly as she crouched near his stall. "How much for this pot?"
"Twenty copper," the boy replied.
Omina checked her pouch. Not enough copper. But they did have a silver coin. She handed it to the boy.
"I don't have change," he said nervously.
"How many pots equal one silver then?" she asked.
The boy counted on his fingers. "Five."
Yoshiya's face dropped, already sensing trouble. Omina's smile turned mischievous as she glanced his way.
"Don't you dare," Yoshiya muttered.
Her grin widened. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I'll make it worth your while tonight."
They locked eyes in silence.
"You can't bribe me like that," Yoshiya said flatly, then sighed. "Fine. How many pots do you want?"
By the time they left, Yoshiya was trudging under the weight of five clay pots, a chunk of meat, bundles of herbs and flowers, plus his shield and sword. Omina hummed happily beside him, gathering even more plants as they went.
But her cheer vanished in an instant.
She froze, staring into the treeline. Yellow eyes gleamed back. Green skin. Slavering mouths. Rusty blades in hand. Not one goblin—two.
"Yoshiya!" Omina screamed.
He rushed to her, dropping pots and flowers onto the dirt road.
"The plants!" Omina shrieked again.
Her voice carried. The goblins turned, snarling, and charged.
Yoshiya braced, shield forward. He focused, feeling for that spark of warmth Mako had taught him to summon. When the goblin's dagger slammed against his shield, a faint glow flared, deflecting the blow with light instead of steel.
"Now!" he shouted.
But Omina was already swinging the sword. Fueled by anger over a broken pot, she slashed into the first goblin's side. It howled, stumbling back.
Then came the others. Three more goblins, spilling from the brush.
"Too many…" Yoshiya muttered, sweat dripping down his brow. He tried to hold the line, but Omina recklessly lunged forward, cutting into another. A second goblin slipped past his shield and drove its blade into his back. Pain shot through him as he fell to one knee.
He forced a *Heal* through trembling lips, light sealing part of the wound, but not enough. His strength was fading.
The goblins circled, four still alive. One wounded, two snarling, one lifting its weapon high. Omina shook, clutching the sword, fear battling stubborn rage.
Then—
*Thwip!*
An arrow pierced the skull of a goblin. It dropped instantly.
*Thwip!*
Another arrow found its mark. Two were down.
Yoshiya staggered to his feet, shield raised, refusing to collapse even as blood dripped down his back.
*Thwip!*
A third arrow ended the wounded goblin. Only one remained. Omina's eyes burned with fire as she charged, driving the blade through its chest and twisting until it stopped moving.
Silence fell. The road was littered with corpses, broken pots, and scattered herbs.
Breathless, Yoshiya slumped against his shield, barely keeping himself upright as he tried to heal the wound again. Omina collapsed beside him, her hands trembling.
Footsteps approached. A man emerged from the trees, crossbow in hand. He walked calmly among the corpses, pulling his bolts free before wiping them clean.
"Thank you," Omina breathed, voice shaky.
The man shook his head. "Don't thank me. I didn't come to save you. I just happened to be passing through."
His cold eyes lingered on the goblins, then on them. And though his tone was detached, there was something dangerous about the way he slung the crossbow back over his shoulder and collected a goblin's dagger as a trophy.