The respite had been cut short by the sudden appearance of goblins and the pained grunt-like cuss of Matteo. Their confidence had been cruel in this insidious world. With the dagger-wielding goblin charging her, Ash could have just closed her eyes and let it end quickly.

Fuck that.

Ash wasn't just going to stand there and let this disgusting rot rat of a biped go to town on her body. By pure instinct, she knew she had to right herself. If she couldn't move, she couldn't do anything. Her hand digging into the ground with all of the strength she could muster, she launched as much dirt as she could at the face of the goblin. Even if it was blocked, it could buy her some time. As fast as she could, she pushed herself up. She didn't do anything fancy; not a single roll would come out of her body. She simply pushed off the ground to plant her feet on the ground and pushed up as hard as she could to stand. She didn't care about the strain. Mild pains like that were an inconvenience at worst, especially compared to getting stabbed to death by a dagger that's been god-knows where. She drew her machete, ready to make a heavy swing when the goblin approached.

The goblin was like a child, at best. Ash wasn't a strong woman, but she was certainly above average. Her machete had more range, seemed to be more durable, and more brutal than the dagger that the goblin wielded. If she could hit the goblin once, she was certain she could overpower it. If it tried to block, she was sure that she could break its guard. But what did Ash know?