His vision began to blur, and his limbs grew as heavy as if they had been filled with lead.
In the brief mont he lost focus, the rhythm of the battle was instantly thrown into chaos.
A Goblin seized the opportunity, its wooden club sweeping viciously toward his lower body.
Damian barely managed to leap up to evade it, but he failed to guard against the spear flying in from behind.
The sharp spear tip grazed his cheek, bringing with it a spray of blood.
The intense pain forced his already scattered consciousness to gather for a fleeting instant—but it was more like a final flash before death.
Looking at the grotesque monsters on the outskirts, grinning as they tightened the encirclent, Damian’s heart sank bit by bit.
The longsword in his hand had never felt so heavy.
He knew that he would probably die here.
At this mont of despair, for so reason, the morning of this very day surfaced in the boy’s mind.
“Senior Raven……”
The corners of Damian’s mouth curled into a bitter smile as blood dripped down his chin onto the pristine white cobblestones.
“Sorry… it looks like I can’t keep my promise to you.”
“I still couldn’t survive, after all.”
“Clang!”
Another heavy collision rang out.
Damian gritted his teeth, his arms trembling as he barely raised his weapon to block the club swung by a Goblin brute.
The searing pain from his split tiger’s mouth made it almost impossible to hold onto the sword hilt. Large patches of darkness began to appear frequently in his vision.
That was a sign of extre oxygen deprivation in the brain.
His arms felt as heavy as if weighed down by massive stones. Even the simple act of lifting his sword to block beca incomparably difficult, and the blade involuntarily sank a few inches.
The cunning Goblins around him clearly saw that their prey was at the end of its strength.
They let out excited and cruel shrieks, their weapons swinging faster and faster.
“Bang!”
Another powerful sweeping strike.
Damian instinctively raised his sword to block.
But this beca the final straw that broke the cal’s back.
The forcibly activated breathing technique backlashed within his body, and combined with the imnse impact, it completely destroyed his last trace of balance.
The boy was sent flying like a kite with its string cut, crashing heavily onto the hard cobblestone ground.
Pain and dizziness struck simultaneously, and his consciousness plunged into darkness as he completely fainted.
Seeing their prey collapse, the surrounding Goblins instantly erupted into chaotic screeches, swarming forward as they fought to claim the human’s head.
At this critical mont—
“Whoosh—”
A sharp tearing sound of air suddenly rang out from the dense forest to the side.
An arrow shot out from the woods without warning, piercing cleanly through the throat of a Goblin that was just about to throw a short spear.
【System Notification: Goblin Research Progress
1】
This sudden change caused the previously frenzied Goblin group to freeze for a brief mont.
Imdiately after, a figure burst out from the forest like a cheetah.
The figure did not pause even while running, smoothly drawing the bowstring again.
The second arrow whistled through the air, pinning another Goblin spearman—who had just reacted—to the ground.
【System Notification: Goblin Research Progress
1】
Lance’s gaze was as cold as ice, his footwork astonishingly swift.
He charged at full speed toward where Damian had fallen. At the mont he was about to enter the battle circle, the short bow in his hand was drawn into a full moon.
The final arrow left the string, sending away the last Goblin spearman on the field who posed a ranged threat.
【System Notification: Goblin Research Progress
1】
At this point, the Goblin scouts responsible for outer vigilance finally snapped back to their senses.
Shrieking, they waved their stone spears, attempting to stop this reckless human.
But the distance between them had already shrunk to less than five ters—the bow had lost its usefulness.
Without hesitation, Lance swung the sturdy hazel short bow in his hand and smashed it hard across the face of a charging scout.
“Smack!”
The scrawny Goblin was sent spinning in midair before crashing heavily to the ground.
Taking advantage of this opening, Lance casually discarded the short bow and, with his left hand, smoothly equipped the iron-rimd round shield on his back.
He had only one objective.
Reach Damian!
Lance curled his body behind the shield, transforming himself into a charging war chariot.
“Bang!”
The shield slamd violently into a blocking scout.
The imnse kinetic force sent it flying several ters away.
For an ordinary Adventurer, such full-force shield charges could only be perford four or five tis before exhaustion set in.
But Lance was an exception.
Every one of his charges, every exertion of strength, was at peak condition without reservation.
The Goblin scouts attempting to block him were like fragile straw dummies in his path, unable to slow him down in the slightest.
Even the burly Goblin brutes were drawn by the commotion, turning their heads with uncertain expressions.
In just a few strides, Lance had forcefully carved through the encirclent and arrived at Damian’s side.
He quickly glanced at the boy on the ground.
His chest was still rising and falling.
Good—just unconscious.
Lance let out a breath of relief, and with his right hand, smoothly drew the fine steel short sword at his waist.
His left leg stepped forward, his center of gravity lowered, the shield guarding half his body, the short sword hidden behind it.
A standard opening stance of Castro Swordsmanship.
Four sturdy Goblin brutes roared as they surrounded him, their spiked wooden clubs crashing down like a torrential rain.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Dull impacts rang out densely across the shallows.
Lance was like a reef in the midst of crashing waves—no matter how the enemies attacked, the round shield in his hand always blocked the fatal blows at the most precise angles.
The essence of Castro Swordsmanship lay in defensive counterattacks.
However, against the frenzied bombardnt of a group of Goblins, it usually required three to four consecutive blocks before finding a chance to strike.
This kind of high-intensity passive defense placed enormous strain on the arm holding the shield.
For an ordinary person, after blocking a dozen heavy blows, their arm muscles would beco numb and weak from the shock, causing them to lose grip on the shield.
But Lance had already withstood nearly thirty heavy strikes.
His left arm remained as steady as if cast from steel, without the slightest tremor.
What terrified the Goblins even more was his deadly counterattacks.
With every strike, Lance mobilized the full strength of his body’s muscles in an explosive burst.
Combined with the 5% additional penetration granted by the newly acquired specialty 【Trench Rat’s Bite】—
The fine steel short sword beca incomparably sharp.
“Puchi!”
A flash of sword light.
Another Goblin scout clutched its spurting throat and collapsed.
Every strike from Lance was fatal, harvesting lives one after another.
That horrifying pressure—where no amount of attacks could exhaust him, and any attempt to swarm him only led to being counter-killed—finally instilled fear in the not-so-intelligent Goblins.
They howled as they retreated a few steps, no longer daring to clash head-on. Instead, they drove the expendable scouts around them forward to wear down Lance’s stamina.
Exactly what Lance wanted.
Amid the seamless transitions between offense and defense, he calmly stabbed six more Goblin scouts wielding stone spears to death.
One more.
Just one more kill, and he could unlock the next stage of Biological Research.
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