He didn't have to wait long; the tension was high when he arrived. The goblins, driven by hunger and their numbers, made the first move.
Desperation filled the air as they lunged at the small rodent, eager for any bit of food.
With a loud cry, one of the smaller goblins swung its club at the creature, but the rodent jumped to the side, just barely dodging the attack.
It let out an angry squeak, eyes full of defiance as it got ready to fight back.
Ephraim watched, heart racing, as the rodent made its move. Despite its small size, it was incredibly fast.
The goblins' frustration was clear; their growls grew louder as their prey kept dodging them.
The second goblin lunged forward, swinging its club high, but again, the nimble creature escaped. It was obvious it wouldn't give up easily, and its fierce determination caught Ephraim's attention.
The biggest goblin, holding the short blade, growled in frustration, "Get it, you fools!"
It charged forward, trying to trap the rodent, but the little creature stayed quick, darting between the goblins with impressive speed.
At their leader's order, one of the smaller goblins swung his club again, but the strike missed as the rodent dodged, staying just out of reach.
The rodent saw its chance and acted quickly. As the goblin's club hit the ground, the small creature raced up the goblin's arm, heading for its neck.
Before the other goblins could react, it opened its mouth and bit down hard on the goblin's throat. Blood gushed from the wound as the goblin clutched his neck with both hands, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.
With its first attack successful, the rodent turned to the other lackey. But the goblin holding the jagged blade was now ready.
The goblin with the blade swung wildly, ignoring the panicked look of his fellow goblin who was almost in the way.
The rodent saw the blade coming and a moment of helplessness flashed in its eyes. It knew it couldn't dodge in time, but luck seemed to be on its side.
The goblin lackey instinctively leaned back, narrowly avoiding the blade by mere centimeters and saving the rodent from a fatal hit.
The goblin's rage surged after its failed attempt to kill the rodent. With a furious snarl, it swung its blade again, but the creature wasn't about to be an easy target.
Quickly, the rodent darted down the goblin's body and vanished into the taller grass, blending seamlessly with its surroundings.
The two remaining goblins grew cautious, holding back from making any reckless moves that could worsen their situation. They stood ready, eyes scanning for the rodent's next move, prepared for another surprise attack.
Before long, the rodent didn't disappoint. It scrambled onto the back of the other goblin lackey, aiming to claw or bite at the vulnerable spot on the back of its neck.
The goblin panicked, letting out a high-pitched growl as it felt the creature scurry across its back. It tried to grab the rodent with its free hand, but the nimble creature dodged easily.
Seeing his lackey's struggle, the goblin with the jagged blade decided to use the same strategy as before—swinging at both the rodent and his companion. Fewer mouths to feed meant more for him, after all.
In the chaos, Ephraim took his chance and crept closer to the goblin holding the blade.
His heart pounded, a mix of excitement, nerves, and anxiety coursing through him. This was his first time attempting to take a life, and the weight of it pressed heavily on him, even if it was only a goblin, not a human.
He held his breath as he approached. The goblin was now within reach of his sword. Ephraim knew that whatever he did next would either land a decisive blow or leave the creature badly wounded.
As the goblin raised its blade, ready to slash at its companion, a spark of ruthlessness flickered in Ephraim's eyes.
It was a perfect moment that reminded him of the old saying: "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind."
Watching the scene, any leftover hesitation or guilt about killing the goblin faded away.
"He deserves to die!" Ephraim thought, and with that conviction, he swung his sword at the goblin's neck with all his strength.
The goblin remained oblivious, too focused on the rodent in front of it to sense the danger approaching.
Ephraim didn't fully understand what drove him to make the final strike against the goblin.
Maybe it was pity for the helpless rodent, or perhaps it was a grim sense of duty—an understanding that his presence in this world required a different mindset, one that demanded action he would have avoided back home.
In this unfamiliar world, Ephraim 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, Ephraim knew the creature deserved its fate.