This time, Ackster wasn’t as stunned by the goblin’s charge and managed to respond in a timely manner by jumping to the side. He didn’t dive or roll on the ground since it took too much effort for how little it gained him. It was better and easier to just take a few quick steps to the side to avoid the goblin’s simplistic downward swing. It was so easy that Ackster could do it several times.
And when the goblin unleashed the occasional horizontal swing, Ackster only had to jump back and out of range. However, the tension and the goblin’s vicious growling were getting to him. It was unexpectedly draining to be locked in a fight, even if Ackster did nothing more than jump around and avoid the goblin’s wildly swinging club.
But since it was so exhausting, Ackster realized he had to find a way to end the fight. And the sooner, the better. The night had just begun, and he wanted to cover a larger area before returning to the city. Every minute he spent entangled with the goblin was another minute he could have spent looking for his target that he would use to save his life.
It was just that Ackster didn’t know how to defeat the goblin. He was frantically doing his best to dodge its club. There was no way he could begin thinking about how to beat it. The only fighting he knew was from literature and pop culture. And it wasn’t like he had read ‘Martial Arts for Dummies.’
Besides, with all his focus on his fight with the goblin, Ackster didn’t really have enough free time to think about or theorize on how to fight in detail. However, he was slowly getting more desperate. So, he decided to stop thinking about it. The worst that could happen was that he would die, which would happen either way if the goblin stopped him from finding his target. Not to mention how it would almost feel better to get killed and eaten by a goblin in the middle of the forest. Doing that would surely leave The Hero restless at night. And it would be better than to die in front of a crowd to The Hero.
So, after the goblin missed another downward swing with its club, Ackster charged forward. He protected his head by holding his arms up and ran blindly toward the goblin. The goblin, unlike Ackster, wasn’t surprised by its target’s sudden charge and lifted its club to swing it toward Ackster’s head.
Ackster saw the club fly toward him out of the corner of his eye, but he froze. Well, his legs didn’t, but he didn’t move out of the way of the club. He clenched his eyes and teeth and waited for the impact.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long until the club struck his arm with full force.
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Ackster was a little confused since he felt the blow and how hard it had hit his arm. But he didn’t feel any pain. However, he cast aside his confusion in a panic and tackled the goblin.
With his weight and size advantage, Ackster didn’t have any trouble pushing the green monster to the ground. The tackle even made the goblin lose its grip on its club.
Ackster lay on the green, ugly, screaming monster. But he didn’t have enough time to be disgusted since he finally realized why he hadn’t felt the pain in his arm at first. It was broken, and his body temporarily dulled his sense of pain. But when he hit the ground atop the goblin, Ackster’s body released all restrictions, and the nearly overwhelming pain of his broken arm made it hard for Ackster to concentrate.
Ackster screamed in pain due to his broken arm while half-straddling the goblin with his pain. However, the goblin didn’t care about Ackster’s pain. If anything, it enjoyed it and took the opportunity to jab its clawed fingers into Ackster’s side.
But the sudden spike of pain from his side helped Ackster realize the situation he was in, and his mind cleared enough for him to come up with the simplest solution to ending at least one source of his pain.
If he killed the goblin, it wouldn’t be able to jab its claws into his sides anymore.
Ackster’s survival instinct kicked in and, supported by Strong Body, helped Ackster channel his murderous intent into a one-handed beatdown on the goblin’s face.
Every time he twisted his body to put power into his fist, Ackster felt the pain in his sides and his arm spike. But he gritted his teeth while tears of pain streamed down. And he focused the feelings he felt into his fist as he punched the goblin with all his might.
His frustration, anger, pain, and desperation all fueled Ackster’s rampage. He didn’t even feel the pain of the goblin’s teeth digging into the skin on his fist since he was so caught up in the pain of his other injuries and unleashing the feelings inside him.
Ackster saw red and mindlessly punched the goblin. He didn’t notice when the goblin’s arm stopped jabbing him in the side. He didn’t even notice when the goblin’s skull stopped putting up resistance and became a puddle of bone and brains.
It wasn’t until a while later that Ackster’s arm got too tired to continue, and he belatedly realized he had punched the ground for quite some time already. The goblin was dead beyond any chance of recovery, and barely anything was left of its head.
Ackster had punched it so hard that the skull had broken. And after that, when he punched the ground, he sent the skull and brains flying and splattering all over the place.
Ackster sighed in relief and sat on the goblin’s corpse, panting.
He wanted to lie down in a bed and sleep. Who knew it would be so exhausting fighting a goblin to the death?
But, Ackster couldn’t afford to relax. Not yet. There were still things to do.