Smed could've dodged the knife, especially since Khaiya wasn't exactly catching him by surprise. But, in all honesty, it'd been a good while since the last time he'd died, and he figured a couple months was a bit of an extended stretch anyways.
Smile as big as ever, the knife went sailing right through his chest, destroying his black little heart and spurting blood onto the grass. He fell backwards, cackling, giggling until the light left his eyes.
"Let her watch, then knock her back out," Smed said.
Oh! My heart's stopped beating. Back in a jiff," he gurgled, and his body went limp. By now, everybody in his organization, including Mei, knew that Smed was a goblin who couldn't die. In fact, dying was a bit of a fetish for the deranged little creature.
Either way, he laid still for a couple seconds, before suddenly, he sat back up, eyes as sharp and alert as ever.
"Woo! Haven't had a rush like that in a while," he said, and he pulled the knife out of his chest, tossing it behind him as his chest wound sealed.
He looked to Mei.
"I mean, I've died before, but this time, I just died."
He hacked up a bit of blood, shrugged, and continued.
"Hell of a throw."