Alan took one step back, then another.
Not retreat, calculation.
There is a point in every inexperienced fighter's life where courage and denial separate, he had crossed it.
His shoulder burned. The arrow had entered high and forward, bad placement for combat, good placement for pain. Pulling it out now would worsen bleeding and destroy what little stability remained in the arm.
So he left it.
Good decision, not because he understood medicine, but because panic had finally run out.
The goblins resumed movement. No shouting, no dramatic charge. That made them worse.
The shield brutes advanced together, measured and deliberate. The spear remained centered, the sword stayed wide, and the one with glasses watched.
No mana.
No aura.
Still not acting.
That bothered him more than the arrow. People expect power to announce itself. Real threats often outsource effort. He then shifted his grip and moved left.
The formation moved left.
He moved right.
The formation matched.
Not chasing, containing. His eyes narrowed. That was when he noticed it. Every adjustment happened after the goblin with glasses moved its hand, tiny signals, two fingers, open palm, small gestures.
'Command', he realized.
The enemies had formation, strategy, coordination. But him...
Inhuman stats. Physics-defying abilities. Abnormal movement and reaction speed. Impressive. But with a body that was used to human level activities, there was a rough imbalance between both sides as Alan's body wasn't used to anything like this or similar to this.
So he stopped trying to outperform them, knowing fully well he hadn't gotten used to this body. Instead, he looked at the terrain;
Loose stones, exposed roots, low visibility toward the eastern side, a slight incline.
Nothing special.
Which meant it was usable.
The shield users accelerated. He did not retreat. He ran forward. The spear struck instantly, too fast to dodge cleanly.
He turned.
The spear tore through the weak leather armor and scraped across his side. He felt pain, But less than if it had been a direct hit. Gritting how teeth, he ignored it, and focused on closing distance instead. That mattered more than anything else.
Long weapons hate closeness. He slammed his body into the lead shield. No sword usage. No special technique.
Just impact.
*BAM*
The brute staggered half a step. Enough. He then slid underneath and kicked the inside of the shield, not to break stance, but to create obstruction.
The shield tilted and blocked the spear line. The sword goblin reacted immediately and moved in.
'Perfect', he chuckled to himself.
He leapt upward in an attempt to dodge the sword goblin's strike.
The sword missed and struck the shield.
Wood splintered.
Formation interrupted.
For exactly one second.
To an desperate fighter with his life on the line, one second is not time.
It is opportunity.
He turned and sprinted. Not at the enemies, but toward the eastern incline. The goblins pursued.
Not aggressively, but instinctively.
The goblin with glasses noticed first. Its expression changed slightly. Too late. Alan reached the slope and deliberately lost footing.
He slid.
Loose dirt exploded downward. The brutes tried to stop.
Too heavy.
One lost balance, then the second. Momentum took over.
They crashed into each other and tumbled down the slope.
The spear user jumped clear. The sword user recovered instantly.
The goblin with glasses remained uphill. Then it raised a hand. Then the forest moved.
"Moved" was a bit too much, more of a shift.
A shadow blurred through the trees. Branches rustled. A faint, unmistakable twang of bowstring was heard in the distance.
Another arrow zipped past the trees.
The hidden sixth struck again.
Alan ducked sharply.
The arrow missed his head by centimeters and embedded itself into the ground. That was deliberate. Not a miss, but a correction fire.
The goblin with glasses spoke. "Don't kill him, he seems... Useful".
His chest tightened. Not because they wanted him alive. It was because that statement meant something worse.
Capture. Assessment. Experiment. Recruitment.
It did not matter.
None of them pointed towards it ending in a good way.
The sword goblin descended slowly. No rush, no excitement. Just that faint smirk hidden beneath the mask.
Alan stood a few meters away.
One arm weakened.
Leg cut.
Breathing uneven.
Then he noticed something.
The arrow in his shoulder. Same fletching, same wood, same make.
And suddenly he understood something.
The hidden sixth had line of sight, but not freedom. It was strictly following orders. If it wasn't, he would already be dead. That meant the archer was stationary.
Which meant there was a command structure. Which also meant…
The goblin with glasses had not revealed it's true power... Or it wasn't the strongest, just the closest.
Alan looked toward the trees.
And for the first time since the fight began,
he stopped seeing enemies, and started seeing the system holding them together.
[Vitality:101/400 <~ 195/400
His breathing became uneven.
Not just from exhaustion, although that was also a factor, the primary cause was due to overload.
Too many variables. Too many directions.
The shield users recovering.
The swordsman descending.
The spear repositioning.
The unseen archer.
The one with glasses.
His thoughts became slower...
Then sharper!
A strange contradiction given the current circumstances. His injured arm trembled. His fingers loosened around the sword. He looked at the blood running over his hand.
Warm.
Bright.
Visible.
"Visible", he thought.
That word stayed.
The sword goblin moved, fast, Closing the little distance they had in seconds.
His Instincts screamed to defend.
His body tried.
But something unfamiliar interrupted. Not heat. Not force.
Light.
A pale glow appeared around his hand.
Weak.
Almost invisible under daylight.
Alan stared at his left palm, shifting his gravetide sword to the wounded right hand.
No dramatic explosion, no voice in his head. Just a feeling. Like realizing a muscle existed only after using it.
The goblin with glasses moved for the first time. Its eyes widened.
That was a first.
Because analysts do not react unless variables change.
The sword goblin struck.
The protagonist raised his hand by instinct.
The light gathered.
Condensed.
Compressed.
Then he released it.
Not a beam. Not a cannon.
Too advanced, considering his level and skill usage experience.
Not an explosion. Too destructive.
But destructive wasn't the word for it.
A line.
A narrow burst. Like concentrated sunlight forced into shape.
It crossed the space instantly.
The skill awakened.
Skill: Light pulse
Attribute: Light
Grade: Uncommon
Type: Offensive
Description: Compresses ambient light and mana into a short-range piercing projectile. Extremely fast. Extremely precise. Low destructive force. Moderate mana cost.
The attack hit.
The sword goblin's shoulder exploded backward. Not vaporized. Not cinematic.
Just punched through. Clean, efficient.
The goblin collapsed and rolled.
Alive... But combat ineffective.
Silence.
The brutes stopped. The spear froze.
Even the hidden archer did not fire.
Alan looked at his hand. The glow vanished immediately.
His knees nearly gave out. That was the cost. First awakenings are inefficient in most cases. He expected explosive power, but what he got was one shot and dizziness.
The glasses goblin stared at him. Adjusted its frames. Then spoke quietly.
"Impossible."
Not because Light was rare. It was because of the timing under which it happened.
Awakenings under pressure happened. Offensive awakenings under pressure happened. But Light?
Light was usually stable, measured, and controlled. Not born from panic.
Alan slowly picked up his sword.
Then the goblin with glasses raised one finger.
The formation changed. Not aggression, but distance in form of containment.
Its voice remained calm.
"Do not engage directly."
Then after a pause: "Observe.", it concluded.
That sentence made Alan's stomach tighten.
They weren't afraid, they had simply changed objectives.
He was no longer prey, he was data. Data to be researched upon. And somehow that felt worse.
Alan remained still.
Not because he was calm.
Because movement suddenly felt expensive. His shoulder pulsed around the embedded arrow, his side burned where the spear had grazed him, his legs felt heavier than before.
And now there was a new feeling aside from all those.
Emptiness. Not exhaustion.
Absence.
Like reaching for a pocket and discovering something that had always been there was suddenly gone.
Mana. Not all of it.
Just enough to notice.
His first offensive skill had taken something from him. That frightened him more than the goblins. Because pain was familiar.
This wasn't.
Across the incline, the goblin with glasses continued observing him, no celebration,no alarm.
Its eyes moved once over his shoulder, then to his hand, then over to the sword goblin's shoulder where Light Pulse had passed through earlier.
Calculating.
Recording.
Alan understood immediately.
They had stopped seeing him as a fighter, now he was a phenomenon instead.
The sword goblin dragged itself backward using its functional legs. Blood covered its right arm, but the wound had missed vital structures.
Deliberate.
Not because of Alan's control.
Because Light Pulse did exactly what it promised.
Piercing. Not destroying.
The glasses goblin looked at the injured swordsman.
Then at Alan.
"Estimated output," it said quietly.
The spear user answered.
"Low."
The glasses nodded.
"Repeatability?"
The spear paused.
"Unknown."
That made Alan's stomach tighten once more.
They were discussing him. Not in anger, not in fear.
But in the way biologists do when a fish evolves to use hands instead of fins.
The shield brutes had recovered by now. Only one shield was somewhat damaged.
Neither advanced.
The hidden archer still hadn't fired.
That alone felt wrong.
If this were a normal kill squad, they would pressure him immediately and start using formations to distract and confuse him before moving in for the kill.
But Instead of doing that, they waited.
Then the glasses goblin stepped forward.
First actual movement.
Its voice remained level.
"Use it again."
Alan blinked twice, confused.
The goblin repeated.
"Use that skill again, the light beam you used earlier, use it again."
No one moved.
No attacks, no pressure.
Just waiting.
His grip tightened.
He grinned instead, seeing this as a new opportunity.
"Well since you want it shoved up your as so badly I'll give it to ya"
The light started gathering. Warmth seeping out of his arm as the energy began to take shape. And then-
*FWOOOOOOOO*
The light faded away, leaving a shocked alan confused.
The glasses tilted its head. Then raised one finger. The spear goblin moved instantly.
A thrust. Fast. Controlled.
Alan recovered quickly and began gathering light at his left palm again.
Light.
Nothing.
The feeling didn't come.
The spear tore across his forearm.
Pain snapped through him. He stumbled back, clutching his bruised left arm.
Then the attack stopped immediately. Not finishing. Testing.
The spear retreated.
The glasses nodded once.
"Test confirmed. He cannot summon it at will."
Alan stared at the goblin. Not in fear, but in anger.
Not because they hurt him. Because they predicted his limits... And ended up correct about it. They assumed he existed to perform, to demonstrate, to be measured. And they were spot on with it.
He looked at his glowing hand. Nothing. Empty.
He closed his fingers.
Again. Nothing.
His chest tightened. The skill had come once. Once. And now he needed it...
It wasn't there.
The glasses goblin watched his expression. Then spoke.
"Interesting."
Alan lowered his head at that word.
'Interesting'.
Not dangerous.
Not impressive.
Interesting.
His hand slowly moved to the arrow in his shoulder.
The goblins watched.
He wrapped his fingers around the shaft. Paused.
Then pulled.
Pain hit immediately. Violent, bright. His vision whitened for a brief moment.
The arrow came free. Blood followed.
He nearly dropped to one knee. But he stayed standing. The goblins did not react. Still observing. His breathing steadied. Then he looked up.
Not at the glasses, not at the spear. At the trees.
At the hidden sixth.
Because something had changed.
The archer had not fired since he released Light Pulse.
Not because they were waiting. Because they had moved.
He could feel it. Tiny. Wrong.
The pressure angle was different.
The hidden sixth had repositioned.
Meaning—
They were adapting too.
His eyes narrowed. And for the first time since awakening—
he stopped thinking about how to use Light. And started thinking about why it appeared. Because if it had awakened once under pressure, then maybe the trigger wasn't danger.
Maybe—
it was understanding.
And that thought was infinitely more dangerous than the skill itself.