A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

He could see her sword hand twitching before she even began. As he fought, she'd been about to dive in, but then she'd hesitated. He guessed at her thought process. She'd realized it would have been far easier to deal with the five whilst he'd been distracting them, but then she'd decided against it, because it wouldn't have been much of a test.

She's overthinking it, Oliver realized. Then he frowned at the thought. Wasn't that exactly what he was doing lately, overthinking things?

She allowed them into the same position that they'd fallen into with three, where they approached her, threatening to go around the back. This time, though, there were too many to try that same tactic on. What would she do?

Oliver wondered if she realized how hard she'd made it for herself. Allowing goblins to even begin to surround you was one of the worst things you could hope to do. Even with lesser goblins, Oliver would have ensured that didn't happen to him. It was just too troublesome to take on a group when it was allowed to position itself perfectly.

She picked a target. The goblin on the furthest right, just as she had before. It was just about to creep forward. She was using the same tactic as before… but it wouldn't work with this number of enemies.

She waved her sword near it, testingly… and then she shot. That perfect thrust of hers, her most trustworthy weapon, borne of the old Blackthorn attacking style. She punched the goblin straight through the chest.

This time, after killing it, she didn't step back to allow the others to surround her, instead, she charged forward, punching through the line.

Oliver's eyes widened in surprise. It was a bold attack for such a reserved girl. Masculine, almost, betraying her style's origins.

The goblins were just as surprised as she. The encirclement that they'd been beginning on her turned against them. They lost one of their number, with nothing to show for it, but a snaking bit of distance between themselves and the enemy.

Now, positioned as she was, it was almost one-on-one with her next opponent. She'd freed her blade quickly – if she learned nothing else, at least she was learning to do that – and she charged towards her next opponent. Gods, she was fast, almost unfairly for an enemy of this magnitude.

The creature stumbled back, after seeing what she'd done to its comrade, it hadn't been willing to chance the same fate. Controlled by rage though they were, they adapted quickly. It had made the right choice getting out of range, but in the process of stumbling, it merely revealed the next enemy in line, an enemy that had been safe behind the goblin's back until it moved.

Lasha's sword jabbed it in the stomach. Its own comrade had allowed it a surprise attack. It hissed in anger, its eyes halfway between the goblin that had gotten it killed, and then the one that had actually killed it.

The wound was fatal, but not immediately so. It clawed at Lasha even as it was still impaled on her sword. She withdrew her blade quickly. The creature tried to grab at it, but the slender sharpness of the rapier made that impossible. She booted it in its head next, sending it hurtling out of the way.

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Still alive, it was, but weak. Oliver kept an eye on it, as Lasha moved to confront the final three. She was breathing heavily, just as she'd been after her last fight. Oliver noted that too – it was a weakness that they'd have to address. Possibly one that was simply borne out of the pressure of the moment. He knew how quickly nerves could drain one's energy.

A spear came searching for Lasha, and almost hit. The enemy had bunched themselves up, as they sought reorganization. The threat of encirclement was minimized. Perhaps drawn on by that fact, she'd stepped forward, straight into the range of a spear. It hissed across her shoulder. She bit her lip at the wound.

Oliver's sword was drawn, ready and waiting. He blocked out the sounds of her retainers shouting their worry, as they saw the blood run through the wool of her short black jacket.

She stepped back again. The goblin pursued, delighted.

It was like seeing a man run into a brick wall. The speed and authority with which the counterattack came was monstrous. It was the same technique she'd used before, but done even better, with an increased level of crispness. Her sword punched through its skull, and she drew it out the side, just in time to defect the spear that had come searching for her chest.

Oliver was surprised by how nervous watching had suddenly made him. Was this how Dominus felt? He wanted to be closer, so he could respond faster, but to do that would risk marring her battle.

He needn't have worried. With the deflection of the spear, she followed up with a lunge, and the threat was ended as her sword went through the neck.

The last goblin had gone missing, managing to round her back in the chaos. Had she managed to keep an eye on it? A crisp turn, a flutter of hair, and a spurt of blood as Lasha's sword answered that question.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

All dead. Oliver glanced at the creature with a chest wound. It had stopped moving a few moments before.

"Good," he said, "really good." He couldn't help glancing at the wound on her arm, even though he knew it to be shallow – her thick clothes had taken by far the worst of it.

"How's the pain?" He asked, nodding at the wound. Pauline was already running over with a roll of bandages from the pack that she'd brought – the girl had insisted that they bring supplies for themselves, just in case. Usually so mild, she'd be unusually assertive in that.

"It's fine," Blackthorn said with a slight frown. She seemed less bothered by her own blood than she was initially by the goblins.