Beautiful. That was the word for the endless green field lit by a starless twilight sky. A gentle breeze blew pleasantly from… I had no concept of cardinal directions here, but that wasn’t a problem.

But there was a problem. A very angry, small, green problem that was presently rushing toward me with a brandished weapon. A goblin. In the stories, they always showed up in groups that ranged anywhere from half a dozen to several hundred, and the group size largely determined their threat level. They seemed like pushovers the way they were written, small and weak, cannon fodder to make the hero seem all the more powerful.

But those heroes had weapons, were armoured, and were experienced. Standing here, facing the rows of sharp, needle-like teeth and the soulless pits of darkness that were the creature’s eyes with no weapon and no armour, it was much easier to believe that goblins weren’t weak. To remember the whispered accounts I had heard that spoke of the malicious cruelty goblins were capable of. The cautionary tales that detailed the massacres and atrocities goblins had committed—and I had around nine minutes to… win? Kill this creature? The main objective wasn’t actually all that clear, but what was clear was that if I wanted to return in time to help my family, I couldn’t let it harm me.

The creature snarled, raising the weapon high above its head, wobbling a little as the weight of the weapon raised its centre of gravity, putting it off balance. As it got within a few feet, its little legs still carrying it toward me, it started to bring the weapon down.

I couldn’t let that weapon get close to me, but at the same time I had no weapon of my own to fight back with. Not getting hit was more important than worrying about that for now. I stepped to the left, barely avoiding the strike. The ease and grace of the movement seemed to surprise the goblin and I both. It felt like my body moved exactly as I had imagined it, with what felt no inefficiency or delay. Was this [Noble Elegance]? Skills… they really made this much of a difference? No, I couldn’t let myself be distracted by the euphoria of that movement right now.

The goblin was carried forward by its momentum, stumbling a little as it awkwardly turned around, but before long it was once again levelling its weapon and unsettling glare on me once more. I was beginning to understand why they were so threatening in number—a dozen creatures with complete disregard for anything but stabbing you with the pointy end of whatever they were holding? The thought was terrifying.

I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart. I still didn’t know how I was going to fight back. I needed a weapon, and preferably to keep some distance from that sword. Maybe I could throw something at it? There were no rocks or pebbles scattered amongst the grass that could serve as a weapon, I didn't even need to look to know—I had checked the grass earlier when I was considering the [Herbalism] skill. The only thing I could use to throw were things I had brought with me. After a moment of thought, I came to the conclusion that my shoes were about all I had on hand to throw.

Honestly, the shoes I was wearing weren’t ideal for fighting in any case. I usually preferred to wear more practical ones, but Mother had insisted I wore some ostentatious black shoes with raised heels since we were to be guests for another noble, and appearances were everything. I scoffed at the thought, gladly slipping the shoes off my feet one at a time, all the while keeping my eyes on the goblin. The creature in question seemed to be doing the exact same thing to me—I wasn’t sure what it was waiting for, but one of us was on a time limit.

I paused for a moment to take a deep breath, before crouching down to pick up the shoes. The moment my motion started, the goblin charged, apparently seeing whatever opening it had been looking for. I had been expecting as much. Seeing your foe suddenly lean down to pick something up practically screamed ‘please smack me’.

The goblin crossed the distance surprisingly fast, opening up with a horizontal slash just as I’d grabbed the shoes. From my crouched position, I was able to hop backward and avoid it, mostly. The rusted blade cut through my dress where the fabric had lagged behind due to inertia, but I was unscathed. I immediately retaliated by pulling my arm back and throwing one of my shoes at it. My form was perfect—or at least, what I envisioned was perfect. My practical knowledge of shoe-throwing forms wasn’t comprehensive in the slightest. Nevertheless, the shoe spun through the air like the world’s least aerodynamic throwing axe and collided with the goblin’s face.

Unfortunately, another weakness of mine became glaringly obvious at that moment, though it wasn’t as if I wasn’t already aware of it. Eight—that was the numerical measurement of my strength by the Spire System. A simple number that represented a number of things which included my ability to throw things with any amount of force behind them. Apparently, eight was not a sufficient level for ‘goblin murder via airborne footwear’ and was more on the level of ‘piss it off extra-good’.

The creature snarled at me, the sound coming out just slightly off. Higher pitched, almost nasally. The cause soon made itself apparent—the trail of blood leaking from the creature’s nostrils suggested my shoe had done a little more damage than I’d thought. The collision had utterly wrecked the goblin’s nose.

“Don’t worry, it’s an improvement…” I said with a wink. I don’t know why I was taunting it, or if the goblin even understood me, but it certainly seemed livid, and that was a good enough reason for me. It took a step toward me, and I mirrored the movement, taking an equivalent step back. I had my other shoe in my hand, though the ratio of shoes thrown to damage sustained didn’t paint the fight in my favour. I needed a better weapon—and there was only one of those between us.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The goblin stepped toward me again, this time levelling the blade toward my abdomen and thrusting it forward. I was left with no time to think, this attack was much faster than the overhead swing. In a moment of panic, I turned my body to the side, pivoting on my left foot. The blade missed by an inch, but even though the attack didn’t pierce my stomach, the goblin was still moving toward me, once more carried forward by its momentum. I was close enough to count each of its needle-like teeth individually, if I had the time and inclination.

I had neither, but what I did have was a single shoe, an overextended goblin, and a moment of inspiration. I finally saw a path forward, a way to win this fight. I grabbed the creature’s wrist, just as it began to recover. The wrinkly green skin felt rough beneath my fingers, like leather. It was also damp with sweat. I had to quell the instinct to yank my hand away from the uncanny sensation, instead forcing myself to grip the goblin’s wrist harder—the one holding the short-sword. With my other arm, sole remaining shoe in hand, I swung down toward the base of the sword, clubbing the goblin’s fingers. The goblin wasn’t idle while I was doing this, trying to turn its body so it could try and slash me with sharp, disgusting nails, all the while refusing to drop the weapon. I leant away from its claws, yanking its wrist to try and keep most of the goblin’s body between myself and those nails. Then I smacked its fingers again, this time resulting in the sickening, audible crack of bone.

The goblin howled, yanking its hand away from mine with newfound strength, but not before dropping the blade down into the grass. I snatched it up, dropping the shoe and putting some distance between myself and the irate goblin once more.

By this point, I was breathing rather heavily. The intense focus required while fighting for my life, the need to explode with movement at a moment's notice to avoid being run through—I felt like I had been running the whole time. I adjusted my grip on my newfound weapon. The blade felt smaller in my hands than it had seemed in the goblin’s, more like a dagger than a short-sword, though it was heavier than I thought it would be. Noble girls weren’t exactly allowed to train with weapons, so I’d had to settle for watching Derek and Father spar, and trying to recreate what I’d seen with sticks in the forest.

Now, holding a real weapon, I could see how foolish that was. They were nothing alike. Still—I actually had a weapon now, which was more than could be said for my foe. The goblin looked worse for wear, a trail of dried blood from its nostrils to its chin, clutching its broken finger to its chest. It let out a low, threatening rumble, flexing its hand slowly. I took a step forward, getting used to the feel of my new weapon. The goblin matched me, stepping closer as well. It was just a few paces away now. We both paused, waiting on the other to act, but I didn’t have the luxury of time. I took a lunging step forward, moving into an attack, swinging the blade in a wide horizontal arc. The goblin jumped backwards to avoid it in a move reminiscent of my own, and I felt a smile curl my lips. How the tables had turned. Unlike me, though, the goblin did not escape unscathed. A thin line of red opened up on each of its thighs and started oozing crimson. The goblin landed a few paces back, and either due to the pain or the surprise, lost its balance and fell backward- a mistake.

I didn’t miss the opportunity. I ran forward and leapt on top of it, pinning the ugly creature to the ground while pressing the edge of the blade to its neck. The fight was over, the win was mine. I just had to end it—I just had to… but the creature looked… afraid? Like a scared child. A very ugly scared child. I hesitated—a mistake.

The goblin didn’t miss the opportunity. A stinging pain exploded from my cheek as sharp claws raked their way down my face. I hissed between clenched teeth, all semblance or hesitation and mercy gone. I drew the blade through the flesh of its neck, the dull weapon tearing a jagged hole in the goblin’s throat. Red flooded from the wound and pooled in the grass beneath us. The goblin gargled desperately in its death throes, but it was over. For both of us.

“You fucker!” I shouted at the dying goblin. The bastard grinned at me, even as its lifeblood spilled from its neck and its movements became more and more lethargic. Eventually, it lost consciousness.

[□ Complete Tutorial unharmed]

[Bonus Objectives: FAILED]

I knew it was coming, but it still felt like a knife to the gut. Everything was slipping away from me. I had failed. My family needed me, and my hesitation… It had cost me the chance to be there for them in time. Now all I could do was hope that they would manage without me—a terrible feeling of uselessness settled on my shoulders. The goblin finally lay still beneath me, and in response, several System notifications opened before me.

[You have slain: Goblin x 1]

[Awarded 2 Experience]

[Tutorial Objectives:]

[■ Manipulate System Windows]

[■ Open Status Screen]

[■ Assign Stat Point]

[■ General Skill Selection]

[■ Combat Appraisal]

[Tutorial: COMPLETE]

[Distributing Rewards…]

[Awarded 5 Experience]

[Level up! You have reached Level 2]

A small leather pouch, closed with a drawstring, appeared in the air beside me and fell to the grass. The sound of the clinking coins within drew me from my state of despondency, and I slowly got to my feet. I lifted a hand to my wounded cheek, and it came away wet with my blood. My fingers trembled as I looked at them, a mix of rage and despair flooding through me. One mistake, a single moment. That was all it had taken. If it had still been armed, I could have died. The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the area, both mine and, to a much larger extent, the goblin’s. I let out an exhausted sigh, and picked up the pouch.

[Rewards received.]

[Leaving Tutorial Area… Please await teleportation.]

This was it. I was about to find out what had happened to my family—to the bandits—in my absence. Only a dozen minutes or so had elapsed while I had been here, but that was may as have been a lifetime. I took a deep, steadying breath and tried to prepare myself. Would I be teleporting back to the middle of another battle? Would the fight already be over? I held the rusted blade tightly in one hand and the pouch in the other—the rewards from the Tutorial would have to wait. The world went dark once more, as it had when I was first transported to this strange place.

“Please be safe…”