He didn't have to wait long; the tension was already at its peak when he arrived. The goblins, driven by hunger and their numerical advantage, made the first move. Desperation hung in the air as they lunged toward the small rodent, eager for even a meager meal.
With a wild shriek, one of the smaller goblins swung its club at the creature, but the rodent darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. It let out a furious squeak, its eyes blazing with defiance as it prepared to fight back against its attackers.
The second goblin charged in, aiming for the rodent with its club raised high, but again, the agile creature evaded capture. It was clear that it wasn't going down without a fight, and its ferocity caught Ephraim's attention.
The largest goblin, brandishing the short blade, snarled in frustration, "Get it, you fools!" It rushed forward, attempting to corner the rodent, but the little creature remained nimble, darting between the goblins with surprising agility.
The largest goblin, brandishing the short blade, snarled in frustration, "Get it, you fools!" It lunged forward, trying to corner the rodent, but the little creature remained nimble, darting between the goblins with surprising agility.
At their leader's command, one of the goblin lackeys swung his club again, but the blow missed as the rodent nimbly evaded it, remaining just out of reach.
Seizing the moment, the rodent sprang into action. As the goblin's club struck the ground, the creature swiftly climbed up the arm of the goblin wielding it, scrambling toward its neck.
With its mouth open wide, ready to sink its teeth into the goblin's throat, it moved so quickly that the other goblins barely had time to react.
In the blink of an eye, the rodent sank its teeth into the goblin lackey's throat, blood pouring from the wound. The goblin clutched his neck with both hands, but the bleeding wouldn't stop.
After the successful attack, the rodent aimed for the other lackey, but the goblin wielding the jagged blade was now prepared. He swung his weapon at the rodent, slashing wildly despite the horrified expression on the face of the goblin who was almost in his path.
As the rodent caught sight of the blade closing in, a flash of helplessness crossed its eyes. It knew it wouldn't be able to dodge in time, but perhaps luck was on its side.
Instinctively, the goblin lackey attempted to evade the swing, pulling its body back just enough to narrowly miss the rodent by mere centimeters.
Seeing its failed attempt to kill the rodent, the goblin's rage boiled over. It let out a furious snarl and swung its blade again, but the rodent wasn't about to let itself be hacked apart.
With agility, it darted down the goblin lackey's body and sought refuge among the taller grass, blending in with its surroundings.
The two remaining goblins grew wary, hesitating to make any aggressive moves that might further jeopardize their position, especially with one of their own down.
They stood poised, patiently waiting for the rodent to strike again, clearly anticipating another attack.
Before long, the rodent didn't disappoint. It quickly climbed onto the back of the other goblin lackey, positioning itself to claw or bite at the nape of its neck. Its instincts screamed that this was the vulnerable spot it needed to target.
Panicking as it felt something scurrying rapidly across its back, the goblin let out a high-pitched growl. It swiped at the rodent with its free hand, but the nimble creature easily dodged the clumsy attempt to catch it.
As this chaos unfolded, the goblin with the jagged blade noticed the predicament of his lackey. He decided to employ the same strategy as before—slashing at both his companion and the rodent. After all, with fewer mouths to feed, he would be fuller.
In the midst of this turmoil, Ephraim seized the opportunity to make his move. He crept stealthily toward the back of the goblin wielding the blade. With each passing second, he drew closer, his heart racing with a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety.
This was his first attempt at taking a life, and the gravity of the moment weighed heavily on him, even if his target was just a goblin and not a human.
He held his breath, the goblin now within reach of his sword. He knew that whatever action he took now would either deliver a sure kill or leave the creature severely injured.
As he watched the goblin raise its blade, preparing to slash at its companion, a flash of ruthlessness ignited in Ephraim's eyes.
This was a classic example of the saying: "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind."
As Ephraim observed the scene unfold, any lingering anxiety or guilt about killing the goblin dissipated. 'He deserves to die!', he thought, and with that conviction, he swung his sword at the goblin's neck with all his strength.
The creature remained oblivious, too focused on the rodent before it to sense the impending danger.
Ephraim didn't fully understand what compelled him to make the final strike against the goblin in front of him. Maybe it was pity for the helpless rodent, or perhaps it was a grim sense of duty, an acceptance that his presence in this world demanded a different mindset—a readiness to take action he would've avoided back home.
In this unfamiliar world, he realized, hesitation could be deadly. If he wanted to avoid being on the wrong end of a blade someday, he had to be prepared to wield one himself. And with the goblin leader's brutal actions, he knew this creature deserved its fate.