Low Blow

Superstes gritted her teeth as a stinging pain burned into her back, throwing a kick behind her, she only hit air as the sound of a pair of footsteps went away from her.

Turning around, armed with an infused spear, Superstes squinted her eyes at the small hooded figure, wearing a red hood and cloak, the monster was of small stature by human standards.

His figure was completely humanoid, a wooden mask was covering the upper half of his face, his hands and feets wrapped in bandages, most likely as a way to make less sound when moving around.

'Just my rotten luck...' she was faced with another monster stealthy enough to bypass her detection, her technique was going to have to see some work in the future.

The monster was a redcap goblin, as was made evident by his green skin, size and apparel.

What was really worrying Superstes right now however, was the black, sludge-like substance oozing from his blade alongside her blood.

The redcap was holding his long dagger ready, his body positioned in a way that could allow him to choose between fighting and retreating.

His expression was mostly hidden by his mask, but he had been surprised, not by her reaction time, which had been nearly instantaneous, but by the fact that she had emmited nauseating killing intent even faster than that.

In fact, it had already been present before she had even realised the goblin was there.

It had seriously messed with his timing, he had been planned to stab his dagger right through her back and into one of her lungs, down to the handle and to leave it there.

So as to allow the toxin he had coated his blade to truly to its maximum.

'Her killing intent reacts faster than she does? Was that even killing intent or something else? It felt warm...' the redcap steeled his muscles as he and the heroine exchanged stares.

Superstes touched her face a little bit.

'Venom...'

'Good! It's working better than I thought' the goblin could see dark and gooey blood slowly trickling out from her nose.

'This is the upgraded version made by Wretched Lord, the previous one could already kill an elephant with one drop! It should do some work on her at least...'

The redcap didn't know the process the minister used to create such a thing but he could only see the results.

He had managed to land a blow on the heroine and inject a deadly toxin, she would begin to weaken and become sluggish, only making her more susceptible to being slashed again.

An arrogant monster would have gone in immediately, but the goblin wasn't stupid, he had already alerted about the heroine's position to everyone he could, many monsters, many of which on the same level or even higher than him were coming.

It would be stupid to risk his life when victory was already assured.

He didn't even bother to say anything and only cautiously watched her movements.

It wasn't like he had anything to say.

Promise a painless death if she surrended? That was just plain idiotic.

Go on about the fact that she was going to die? That was just calling for fate to smack him in the nuts.

The pitch black night was soon illuminated by bright light, the redcap, who was using the effects of a potion to see through the pure darkness of this moonless night was almost utterly blinded, he shielded his eyes using his arms whilst simultaneously backing away.

Knowing that losing sight of his enemy was dangerous.

He succesfully moved away without a hitch, which was too suspicious for him to be glad about.

He checked the position of the bright light.

It hadn't moved from where it was, letting his eyes get adjusted to the brightness, he realised the trick almost too late.

Planted in the ground, the heroine's spear was pointed straight at the sky, without its wielder, it still held on the golden glow firmly without faltering.

Raising his arms up in a defensive position, the goblin betted that she would inevitably go for his face.

He may be a redcap, but he was still a goblin and one that had taken up the path of assassination at that, his body wouldn't hold up much against Superstes.

Meaning that a direct strike to the skull would kill him.

His idea was right, but the heroine was quick to change her mind, bending her knees to reach his level, she punched him in two separate places at once.

His right wrist was shattered, he was forced to let go of his envenomed blade despite his better wishes.

"Gnuuhaaa- Ah!" the other hit made him howl out a rough, guttural cry.

He felt the sudden urge to puke as the pain travelled throughout his body.

That's right.

Superstes had just punched him in a man's greatest weak point and it had resulted in something popping.

"Oooh..." he was thrown back against a wall with tears in his eyes.

Despite the vicious assault, his senses were still honed and he quickly ran into a narrow street for protection, jumping between the two walls until he reached a roof.

The pain was still present and he considered just going away to lie down for a week or two.

He couldn't give up now however, while it might not seem like it, the toxin should definitely have some effect soon.

The light vanished suddenly, making him see nothing but dark for a moment as his eyes were forced to adapt again.

'Were did she go?' he surveyed his surroundings with a focus he had never experienced before, he had already lost one of the three most precious things he had, he deeply feared that she would come to reap the rest.

She wasn't there, not within his sight at least.

The blade of a swordstaff suddenly poked out from the edge of the roof he was currently on.

igniting with brilliance, the redcap cursed out in his mind, too focus on shielding his desecrated manhood, he forgot to protect his eyes.

He reached out for another blade strapped to his belt, first grabbing it with the conventional grip, before reversing it and slashing across the air, making a movement as though he was cutting something resting a cutting board.

It was a battle art, which produced dozens of slashes around his body, keeping Superstes from slaughtering him immediately.

'Reinforcement have arrived' he thought as he heard the sound of dozens of footsteps rushing toward his position.