A New Stage of Biological Research

His vision began to blur, and his limbs felt as heavy as if they had been filled with lead.

In that moment of distraction, the rhythm of the battle was instantly thrown into chaos.

A Goblin seized the opportunity, swinging its wooden club viciously at his legs.

Damian barely leaped out of the way, but he failed to notice the spear flying in from behind.

The sharp spearhead grazed his cheek, sending a spray of blood into the air.

The intense pain forcibly focused his scattered consciousness for an instant, but it was more like a final flicker before death.

Watching the ugly monsters at the perimeter grin savagely as they tightened the encirclement, Damian's heart sank little by little.

The longsword in his hand had never felt so heavy.

He knew that he was probably really going to die here.

In that moment of despair, for some reason, that morning surfaced in the boy's mind.

"Senior Raven..."

A bitter smile tugged at Damian's lips as blood dripped from his chin onto the white pebbles.

"Sorry. It looks like I can't keep my promise to you."

"I still couldn't survive."

"Clang!"

Another heavy blow rang out.

Damian gritted his teeth, his arms trembling as he raised his sword to block the club swung by the brute.

The agonizing pain of his split palms nearly made him lose his grip on the hilt, while large black patches began to frequently appear in his vision.

It was a sign that his brain was severely deprived of oxygen.

His arms felt as though they were burdened by a thousand-pound weight. Even the simple act of raising his sword to block had become incomparably difficult, and the blade involuntarily sank a little lower.

The cunning Goblins around him had clearly realized that their prey was at the end of his rope.

They let out excited, cruel shrieks, swinging their weapons even more frantically.

"Bang!"

Another overwhelmingly powerful sweeping strike came at him.

Damian instinctively raised his sword to block it.

But it became the last straw that broke the camel's back.

The Breath Combat Technique he had forcibly activated backlashed within his body, and combined with that enormous impact, it shattered the last of his balance.

The boy was sent flying like a kite with its string cut, crashing heavily onto the hard pebble-strewn ground.

Pain and dizziness struck at once. His consciousness instantly plunged into darkness, and he completely passed out.

Seeing their prey fall, the surrounding Goblins immediately erupted into chaotic screeches and swarmed forward, scrambling to cut off the human's head.

At that critical moment—

"Whoosh—"

A shrill whistle of slicing air suddenly came from the woods to the side.

An arrow shot out of the forest without warning, piercing with perfect accuracy through the throat of a Goblin that was about to throw a short spear.

[System Notification: Goblin Research progress +1]

This sudden turn of events made the previously boiling Goblin horde freeze for an instant.

Immediately afterward, a figure darted out of the woods like a leopard.

The figure did not slow down even while running, smoothly drawing the bowstring once more.

The second arrow whistled out, pinning another Goblin spearman who had just reacted to the ground.

[System Notification: Goblin Research progress +1]

Lance's gaze was cold as ice, and his steps were astonishingly fast.

He charged at full speed toward where Damian had fallen. Just as he was about to rush into the battle, he drew the shortbow in his hand to a full moon.

The final arrow flew from the string, sending off the last Goblin spearman on the field capable of posing a ranged threat.

[System Notification: Goblin Research progress +1]

At this point, the Goblin scouts stationed on the outskirts finally came to their senses.

They shrieked as they waved their stone spears, trying to stop this human who had come seeking death.

The distance between the two sides was now less than five meters. The bow was useless.

Without the slightest hesitation, Lance swung the tough hazel shortbow in his hand and smashed it viciously across the face of a scout lunging toward him.

"Smack!"

The scrawny Goblin was sent spinning through the air before crashing heavily to the ground.

Taking advantage of that opening, Lance casually tossed aside the shortbow and slipped the iron-rimmed round shield from his back onto his left arm.

He had only one goal.

Reach Damian!

Lance curled his body behind the shield, turning himself into a chariot.

"Bang!"

The shield slammed fiercely into the scout blocking his path.

The immense momentum sent the creature flying several meters away.

An ordinary adventurer would be exhausted and gasping after only four or five such full-force shield charges.

But Lance was an exception.

Every charge, every burst of force from him was delivered at peak condition, without the slightest reservation.

The Goblin scouts trying to stop him were like fragile scarecrows before him, utterly incapable of slowing his advance even a fraction.

Even the brawny Goblin brutes were drawn by the commotion and turned their heads, their faces showing uncertainty and alarm.

In just a few bounds, Lance had forcibly punched through the encirclement and arrived at Damian's side.

He quickly swept his gaze over the boy lying on the ground.

His chest was still rising and falling.

Thank goodness. He was only unconscious.

Lance let out a long breath and drew the Fine Steel shortsword from his waist with his right hand.

He stepped forward with his left leg and lowered his center of gravity, using his shield to protect half his body while concealing the shortsword behind it.

The standard opening stance of Castro Swordsmanship.

Four powerfully built Goblin brutes roared as they closed in, their spiked clubs raining down like raindrops.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Dull impacts rang out in rapid succession across the shallow bank.

Lance was like a reef amid crashing waves. No matter how his opponents attacked, the round shield in his hand always blocked the lethal blows from the most precise angles.

The essence of Castro Swordsmanship lay in defense and counterattacks.

But against a barrage of attacks from a group of Goblins, one usually had to block three or four consecutive strikes before finding a chance to thrust.

This kind of high-intensity passive beating placed an enormous burden on the arm holding the shield.

After blocking a dozen or so heavy blows, an ordinary person's arm muscles would become sore and numb from the vibrations, causing the shield to slip from their grasp.

But Lance had already taken nearly thirty heavy blows in succession.

His left arm remained as steady as cast steel, without even the slightest tremor.

What terrified the Goblins even more were his deadly counterattacks.

With every strike, Lance mobilized the strength of every muscle in his body in an explosive burst.

Combined with the additional 5% piercing power granted by the specialty [Trench Rat's Bite] he had just acquired—

That Fine Steel shortsword became incomparably sharp.

"Squelch!"

The sword flashed.

Another Goblin scout collapsed, clutching its spurting throat.

Every one of Lance's strikes was lethal, reaping lives.

The horrifying pressure of an opponent who could not be exhausted no matter how they attacked, and who would kill them in return no matter how they surrounded him, finally made the dim-witted Goblins feel fear.

They howled as they retreated several steps. Rather than daring to charge in and fight him head-on again, they drove the cannon-fodder scouts around them forward to wear down Lance's stamina.

That was exactly what Lance wanted.

Amid the seamless shifts between offense and defense, he calmly stabbed another six Goblin scouts armed with stone spears to death.

Just one more.

As long as he killed one more, he could unlock the next stage of Biological Research.