He lunged.
Not at me. At Raska. I was just in the way.
His shoulder hit mine, driving me aside. I spun with the momentum. One knife was out before I realized I'd drawn it.
His sword came up in a horizontal slash meant to clear space. I dropped under it. The blade whistled overhead.
I stepped in and slashed low, catching his wrist. Not deep. Just enough.
He hissed. Hand spasmed. The sword dipped.
The lean one was already moving—fast, trained. His blade came in low. I blocked, my knife catching steel. The impact rattled up my arm.
He pressed. I gave ground. One step. Two.
He swung again—high this time.
I ducked. Felt the breeze. My second knife came out. Two blades now. Dual wielding. I didn't think. Just moved.
One blade high, one low.
The lean one lunged.
I parried, redirected both strikes. Stepped in and slashed, catching his forearm. Blood welled. He jerked back.
The tall one recovered. Angry now. He swung overhead, two-handed.
I blocked. The force drove me back. Hard. My boots scraped stone.
He was stronger than me. I could feel it from his strikes. My hands started to ache from impacts.
He pressed forward, didn't let me recover.
I gave more ground. Used a cart as cover.
He swung around it. "I'm done playing."
I ducked behind a stone pillar. His blade hit stone and cracked. Chips exploded.
I slashed out, catching his thigh as I moved past. Not deep. Just enough to slow him.
The lean one came from the side. Blade low, aiming for my ribs.
I twisted. Steel grazed my armor. The screech set my teeth on edge. It didn't penetrate.
I slashed, catching his hand. He dropped the sword. It fell with a heavy clang.
The tall one charged. Full body.
I sidestepped—too slow.
His shoulder hit my chest. The impact drove a shock through my ribs. I flew back and hit the wall with a thud. Air left my lungs. Vision blurred. Pain screamed through my ribs.
I stayed standing. Barely. My hands were still on the knives.
The tall one raised his sword—both hands now. This one was going to hurt. He swung—
CRACK.
Something gray and fast blurred past me. Fist caught him mid-swing. Square in the chest. The sound was wrong. Not flesh. Bone. Ribs breaking. He flew backward and crashed into the opposite wall and dropped. Didn't get up.
Raska stood where he'd been. Fist still extended. Blood on her knuckles. Not hers. A sudden chill crawled down my spine. Cold sweat prickled at the back of my neck, my body reacting before my mind caught up. The noise around me didn't stop—but something in the air had shifted, heavy and wrong.
She looked at the lean one. He was scrambling for his dropped sword. She moved. Fast. One step. Two. Her hand caught his throat and slammed him into the wall. Stone cracked behind his head. Her claws pressed into his neck. Not cutting. Just present.
"Drop it," she said quietly.
He dropped the sword. She held him there for three seconds. Then let go. He collapsed. Gasping.
The handler was already gone. Ran the moment the first punch landed.
Silence. Raska shook her hand once. Blood flicked off onto stone. She looked at me.
"You're slow."
"I was managing," I said, pushing off the wall.
"You were about to get split."
Fair. I slid both knives back into their sheaths. Checked myself. Ribs sore. Shoulder bruised. Armor held. Good enough.
She grinned. "Where'd you learn to move like that?"
"Nowhere important."
"That's not self-defense."
I shrugged. "Worked."
"Barely." She tilted her head. Ears flicking once. "You fight like someone who learned from getting beat up a lot."
I didn't answer. She was right. When you were an orphan and learned what survival was from young, it wasn't pretty. You didn't get trained. You got hit until you figured out how not to die.
"And you're slow. Really slow." She studied me closer. "Wait... You. The goblin guy."
"What?"
"Dungeon. Goblin kicked your face. You just stood there and ate it."
My jaw tightened. "You're mistaken."
She was still watching me. Eyes sharp. Then a glint of mischief crept in
"No. I saw it with my own eyes. And I have witnesses." Her grin widened as she leaned in slightly, enjoying this. "You bled everywhere and still killed it. Took forever though."
"Not me."
"Yes, you are. You even fight the same way now. Like you're trying to get hit."
"You are wrong."
"And now you jump into fights you can't win." Her tail swished. "Do you have a death wish or are you just stupid?"
I understood now why she'd been so calm earlier. She hadn't needed the sword at her hip. Just her fists. And I'd stepped in like she was helpless. My ribs throbbed in agreement with her assessment.
"Neither," I said.
"Could've fooled me."
"Are you done?"
"No, I'm—"
The sound hit.
The Roar
Distant. Deep. Not an explosion. Impact. The ground shivered. Stone vibrated under my boots. Then came the screaming. Not panic. Terror. Birds exploded upward from every rooftop.
I froze. Daedalus Street. Midday. That roar pattern. That pressure.
Silverback!
Raska's head snapped toward the sound. "What—"
I grabbed her arm. "We leave. Now."
Not asking. Not explaining. She yanked back—testing. My grip held. Her eyes snapped to mine. Sharp.
"What—"
"Monster breach." I pulled her a step. "Big one."
"How do you—"
The roar built behind us. Deep. Guttural. Massive. Her ears flattened against her skull. Instinct kicked in. She moved with me.
We ran. Away from the sound. Away from the screaming. Boots pounding stone in rapid succession. Behind us, the roar built. We didn't stop until we hit the main street. Light. Open air. People still moving normally because they didn't know yet.
I let go of her arm. She stepped back. Stared at me.
"What was that?"
"Monster breach."
"How did you know."
"I guessed."
Her tail lashed. Guild whistles cut the air. Sharp. Urgent. Adventurers mobilizing. Orders shouted.
She glanced back toward the sound. Then at me. Her eyes narrowed. "You're not just some knifer."
I didn't answer. She held my gaze three seconds. Then huffed. "You got a name, goblin boy?"
"Butcher."
She blinked. "Butcher?"
"Yeah."
"That's a weird name."
I shrugged.
"Whatever." She turned. "Stay out of trouble, Butcher."
She jogged toward the chaos. Toward the fight. Because that's what adventurers did. I stayed where I was.
Then I started walking. Away from the chaos. Away from whatever story was unfolding behind me.
Not mine. Not my fight.
I had enough of my own.
And it's already embarrassing enough today.