Chapter 74 Blades and Blood - Part 5
Just like the Hobgoblin before it, this creature bore a cruel-looking greatsword. If anything, this one looked to be a higher quality blade than the last. The last was just a crude lump of steel, more suited to bludgeoning than to slicing. This blade, though, seemed to still retain some of its sharpness.
Beam dared to put himself in the way of the charging creature, his knife at the ready, looking small and useless when compared to the creature's weapon.
It bore down upon him with a roar, making the earth thunder with each step. The two of them were about the same height, but that was where the similarities ended.
It dealt a vicious horizontal slash, wielding such a massive blade with a single hand as though it weighed nothing to it at all.
Beam just barely stepped back out of reach, but it still pierced his shirt and left a shallow wound on his chest, drawing a line of red blood. Nôv(el)B\\jnn
Whilst he didn't have time to think, Beam knew he couldn't let a single hit land. Just one blow would be the end of him. The creature was truly monstrous.
After that slashing attack, there came another, as the Hobgoblin bellowed in dismay and swung at him crudely once more, making the air rush from the speed in which it brought that chunk of steel through the air.
This time the blow came diagonally, down towards Beam's shoulder, looking to split it in two.
Despite his best efforts, the wound on the creature's calf had been shallow. It seemed impossible to Beam that a living being's flesh could feel so tough. It felt like he was trying to cut through a layer of malleable wood rather than thin, flexible skin.
The creature kicked Beam again before he could recover properly, sending him sprawling even further away from Nila.
She'd managed to cover a good bit of distance, as she ran with tears in her eyes, hearing the roars of the fight behind her. She could have just run all the way home from there – Beam had likely bought enough time for her to escape. But she wouldn't allow herself to. She turned to ready her bow, and gasped at what she saw.
Beam had managed to scramble his way back to his feet and roll away from the monstrous blow of the sword that had come crashing his way, sending up a cloud of dirt as it landed.
He was in such a state, Nila saw. He'd lost his shirt, and blood ran all over his upper body from several wounds.
It wasn't just the wounds of the Hobgoblin that she saw, either. It was all the various scars that decorated his body from several years in slavery. She saw the cruel lines left by the whip and the scar on his belly and back that had been left by a spear. In short, what she saw were the residues of a life filled with suffering.
And yet the boy fought. He fought as though without fear, facing off against a monster that no other man in the village could take. He fought as though losing and retreating was worse than death. He fought like he meant to conquer, like he couldn't stand a beast in front of him that dared not submit to his wrath.
Nila pulled back her bowstring and cleared her head, looking for her opportunity.
The fight was frantic. The two of them, boy and monster, darted through the trees in a battle so dynamic it was difficult to track with just the eyes. And yet there seemed to be some rule to the boy's rolls, to where he dodged and to where he landed when the beast managed to slip a blow past his guard. It was almost as if he was purposefully luring the Hobgoblin to where there were fewer trees, to give Nila the best chance at landing a shot.