Alan stood still.
Blood dripped from his shoulder. The removed arrow lay at his feet. His breathing remained uneven, but not uncontrolled.
He opened his hand once, closed it again.
No light, no aura, only faint traces of the light pulse remained as the momentum slowly left his palm.
That told him something.
The skill had not appeared because he wanted it, it had appeared because something aligned. Pressure, focus, direction, understanding.
He looked at the battlefield again. But this time, he didn't see simple goblin enemies, he saw:
Two shield brutes, one injured swordsman, one spear, one hidden archer, and one commander.
Before things got serious, he had seen six threats.
But now, he saw a structure that had dependencies.
His eyes moved, his fingers twitched, he began running theough various scenarios where he charged in and didn't get himself killed, his brain working faster than most geniuses from earth. Then he noticed it.
Shield users protected advance.
Spear punished openings.
Sword collapsed distance.
Archer corrected mistakes.
Glasses controlled information.
That meant only one thing.
If their formation stayed intact, he lost.
Not eventually. But certainly.
The goblin with glasses raised its hand.
The brutes moved again. Slowly. Carefully.
They had adapted. No overextension. No pursuit. No unnecessary attacks.
Alan breathed in, then out. Once, twice...
Then he started running.
Straight at the shield users.
'Now if my hypothesis is right, the spear goblin should react just about... NOW!'.
The spear adjusted instantly.
Expected. Too expected.
At the last second he changed angle. Not left. Not right.
Downhill.
The spear goblin redirected almost immediately, albeit half a second slower.
He closed distance again.
The brutes locked shields.
He did not strike.
Instead, he grabbed the damaged edge from earlier, then pulled with his good arm.
The metal frame bent, just a little.
Using that same momentum, he hoisted himself onto the shield.
Used it as elevation. And jumped.
Not over, but across.
The brutes reacted late.
Not because the move was impressive, because nobody expects someone weaker to enter a losing position voluntarily.
Using that same momentum, he rolled upon getting closer to direct impact with the ground.
Now he was behind them.
The glasses goblin narrowed its eyes. Its expression changed.
Small, but noticeable.
The first unaccounted variable.
Alan saw it.
The commander had moved. Only half a step.
That alone answered an important question in Alan's mind.
'distance matters', he concluded internally.
He then sprinted across the field. The spear moved.
Fast. Intercepting. Closing the gap too quickly.
'bracing for impact', he thought to himself, then turned.
The spear entered shallow beneath his ribs.
"rrggh", he grimaced.
Then he grabbed the spear head.
Not to stop it, but to hold the wielder.
The spear goblin's eyes widened.
Repositioning himself so that his ribs were out of the way, he pulled the spearhead toward himself.
The goblin stumbled forward.
And for the first time since the battle began, the spear line broke.
A familiar warmth crept up his palm.
Then seeped into the spearhead.
Thin.
Almost invisible.
Not a skill.
But a residual.
A response.
He understood.
Light Pulse wasn't creation.
It was alignment.
Gather. Focus. Release.
He swung the focused energy already creeping through the edges of the spear upward.
No beam, no projectile, just a normal swing.
But the edge flashed.
The spear shattered.
Not exploded. Shattered!
The goblin let go of the spear and jumped back immediately.
Alive, but disarmed.
....
The glasses goblin stared at alan with an expression that showed shock and slight amusement.
"The weapon... Broke?!", Alan said, excitement creeping up his voice as many theories began forming in his head as to why such an outcome was realized.
He had not meant to do that initially, but unlike before— he understood what happened.
The light wasn't stronger, it was surprisingly, executed in a much cleaner manner.
The glasses goblin was about to raise its hand, presumably to introduce a new tactic— then it stopped.
Because something had changed.
The hidden archer had not fired.
Not once, no correction shot, no support.
Alan noticed something, then he looked uphill the same time as the glasses goblin.
Both realized it together.
The archer's line of sight was blocked.
By the brutes. Due to movement, causing a slight disorder.
And for the first time, their formation had friction.
Suddenly the battlefield felt smaller.
Not won, tilted, albeit slightly, but enough to matter.
At the same time, lots of thoughts ran through the glasses goblin's mind.
' it seems i underestimated this one. It's been a while since I've seen anyone capable of adapting mid fight, alright then, time to end it'.
The glasses goblin slowly lowered its hand.
Then it spoke, not to Alan, but to the others.
"Do not preserve him."
Then a slight pause followed.
Its eyes settled on Alan.
"Resume elimination."
That sentence should have been terrifying.
Instead— Alan felt relieved.
Because being prey was simpler than being studied.
He adjusted his grip on the gravetide blade.
The pale trace of light disappeared.
And for the first time since slightly changing the battlefield, he stepped forward first.
...
The shift did not begin with confidence. It began with confusion.
Alan took one step forward.
The goblins reacted immediately. The spear user abandoned recovery and pulled out a short sword from its cloak. The brutes separated to restore lines. The swordsman changed angle. The glasses goblin moved two steps back.
Only the archer did nothing.
That told him something new, moments ago, every action had been answered almost instantly.
Now there was delay disguised as repositioning.
His chest rose, then fell. His palm tightened around the sword, then relaxed, as if waiting for something.
Then, beneath it, something moved.
Small. Like warmth beneath skin.
A familiar warmth creeping into his palm, slowly, steadily.
Not energy flooding. But a new feeling. Almost as if a new pathway had been created.
[Ding! New Active/Passive skill unlocked: Prism Energy circulation]
[Ding! The presence of Prism Energy circulation has been detected. Creating a secondary conditional passive; Prism Energy infusion]
"Huh, new skill? Prism energy circulation and infusion? More mysteries keep coming in over and over... Alright, let's try it then"
As soon as he activated the skill, the world slowed for a moment, then he felt something exist in his chest, pulsing faintly, as if alive, he closed his eyes, trying to focus, when it happened.
He saw a prism-like structure with a purple spherical void in the center. Faint white strings were spiralling into it while the same faint white strings were flowing out and fading into small streams hidden in his veins.
'What the heck is this? It's like another being is sharing my body with me. But strangely, it doesn't hurt one bit.'
The internal vision suddenly faded into his inner consciousness mysteriously as his normal senses returned, reminding him that he was still on a battlefield.
'one more time', he said to himself and snapped his eyes shut, feeling the strands of light flowing in and out of him. Then, like a channel, he tried to redirect a few of them to his eyes, some strands broke off, moving instead to his sword arm while only a few moved to his eyes, but strangely, like the response of water being diverted on an open path, it worked!
'Yes! I can't believe I'm doing this on my first try but since I've come this far, there's no turning back!', he concluded.
His eyes moved, faster than before, his vision getting cleaner and clearer, the small black spots appearing in his peripheral vision suddenly fading away as the scenario was laid bare to him.
Shield. Spear. Sword. Distance. Angles. The goblins nervous system was laid bare to him like a map, showing him their nervous system, their heartbeat rates, the subtle twitches of their muscle fibers as he saw a pre-movement image of them based on their muscle response...
And for the first time—
he was not drowning in information.
He began to understand what really mattered and what didn't.
The glasses goblin raised its hand.
"Attack".
The formation collapsed inward, following the exact movement pattern displayed in his brain a few seconds ago.
Fast, efficient, precise.
The swordsman closed. One brute advanced, with the second brute shifting to deny escape from indirect routes. The spear user also accelerated, all in an attempt to overwhelm him.
Three lines. Three timings. Too much for a beginner. Too much for a newly transmigrated human.
Alan moved anyway.
Not perfectly, not elegantly, but decisively.
Upon getting closer to the advancing trio, he turned.
Dodging the sword thrust, he immediately moved a step closer to the brute's range and used its shield to block the spear, and then—
The warmth surged.
His hand glowed.
Bright. Dense.
The warmth that accompanied the transculent energy was increasing, slowly getting hotter and hotter.
Alan's eyes went wide in shock.
The gravetide blade in his grip began releasing pale lines as light leaked from the edges.
The glasses goblin's eyes widened.
Too late.
He swung.
Not at anyone.
Just swung.
The condensed energy detached itself from the blade.
Not a line this time.
A pulse, but wider, unstable.
Like compressed light breaking apart.
It crossed the battlefield instantly.
There was no explosion, at least not until the next few seconds.
Only silence.
Then— the brute froze.
Its shield split vertically.
The brute behind it blinked once.
Then fell apart.
Dead.
Not destroyed, not obliterated.
Just opened in half.
The pulse continued in a curved arc, although it was significantly smaller, it crossed another angle, reaching the sword goblin.
The injured sword goblin turned too late. The pulse expanding the line from it's shoulder to its abdomen in an instant.
[Ding! You have slain a low tier C rank goblin tank]
[Ding! You have slain a low tier C rank goblin]
[You have leveled up!
[You have leveled up!
[You have leveled up!
[You have leveled up!
[Ding! You have unlocked the achievement: I just got here!
[You have...
Notifications flooded his vision instantly, alongside a slight relief as his wounds slowly started to close and the enhanced vision slowly returned back to normal.
...
The goblin collapsed immediately.
No scream, no resistance.
Two casualties, in an instant.
The pulse, now much weaker, carved a small gouge on the ground and disappeared.
The battlefield froze.
Alan stared.
He had not aimed. He had not chosen.
The silence afterward felt wrong.
One brute remained. The spear goblin remained. The glasses goblin remained.
The hidden sixth remained.
But something invisible had changed.
The remaining brute took half a step back.
The spear user looked at the dead.
Then at him. A look that had both fear and recalculation mixed.
The glasses goblin lowered its hand.
Its eyes remained fixed on Alan.
No shock. No anger.
Just observation.
Then— for the first time, it removed its glasses, revealing gold, glinting pupils tinged with sunset red.
Its eyes were strange.
Focused. Too focused. Too clear.
It looked at the dead.
Then at him.
"Interesting.", it murmured quietly.
A pause.
"No."
Its expression became colder.
"Dangerous."
Alan stood there.
Sword lowered, Shoulder bleeding slowly reducing, mana reserves running nearly empty.
And suddenly he realized something .
The pulse had grown compared to the thin concentrated line he had released before. But the system didn't recognize it as a skill.
That meant that it was a result of his earlier redirection of 'prism' energy.
But he had not controlled it.
He looked at his hand.
The last traces of light slowly receded back into his palm, leaving it trembling.
And something else became much more obvious to Alan.
The battlefield had tipped.
Heavily.
But not because he became stronger.
Because everyone realized the same thing at once.
If that attack happened again— nobody knew who it would hit.
...
The pulse Alan released had been uncontrolled, the awakening unstable, and that made its potential more dangerous than refined power. Predictable strength could be measured and countered. Growth happening in real time could not.
The goblin with glasses adjusted the frame once and gave an immediate order.
"Immediate suppression."
No hesitation followed.
The remaining brute abandoned careful advancement and accelerated immediately. The spear user moved in behind it and closed the spacing between attack layers until offense and support became one advancing structure. At nearly the same moment, the hidden archer fired.
The first arrow struck beside Alan's right foot.
He moved left.
The second arrow landed where his next step should have been.
The brute arrived.
Its shield slammed forward with enough force to break rhythm rather than guard. Alan raised his sword late and absorbed the impact poorly. The collision ran through his arms and nearly tore the weapon from his hands.
Before he recovered, the spear followed instantly, thrusting the shortsword forward towards his shoulder joint.
Alan twisted.
But it wasn't enough.
The tip entered shallow into his upper arm and opened another line of pain. Not serious, not fatal, but deliberate. Every wound reduced options. Every injury removed decisions.
The brute pressed forward again.
Alan ducked and rolled immediately.
Another arrow came.
He moved.
But he was a second too late.
The shaft sliced across his calf and forced him into a shorter stance. Again, not enough to stop him. Just enough to shape him. That was when Alan understood what was happening.
This was not combat anymore.
This was compression. They were making his options smaller.
Every movement forced another movement. Every dodge narrowed future positions. Every block delayed recovery. Every second removed possibilities, until eventually there would only be one place left to stand and one outcome left available.
The battlefield became rhythm: Shield. Move. Spear. Move. Arrow. Move. Again. Again. Again.
Alan's breathing became uneven. His shoulder throbbed from the removed arrow, his side burned from the earlier graze, his leg weakened, and his arms felt heavier every time he lifted the sword.
[Mental exhaustion: 73%!!!]
[Immediate rest is advised to avoid mental breakdown...
A strange new notification appeared.
'mental exhaustion huh? Makes sense considering the shit i got myself into', Alan said, sighing internally.
Meanwhile, the goblin with glasses never moved.
It simply watched.
If there was something commanders understood better than most fighters, it was the fact that exhaustion defeats talent more reliably than force.
While moving backward, Alan stumbled slightly.
A small mistake.
The brute saw it instantly and surged forward. The spear followed, while the archer nocked another arrow and released it at Alan.
Three attacks. Three directions. No room for immediate action.
Alan stepped backward and his shoulders hit stone.
He stopped. Not mentally, physically.
His body reached a point where information was arriving faster than action. Too much pain. Too much correction. Too many decisions made too quickly.
[Vitality:275/610]
His fingers tightened around the sword.
Nothing answered.
No light.
No pulse.
No awakening.
Only pain.
[WARNING! WARNING! Mental exhaustion has reached 75%!!!
[Temporarily adjusting speed to match scenario...
[Forced adaptation has begun!
[Increasing Agility from 82 to 97!
[Mental overdrive in 9..8..7..6..5..4..3..2..
The message flashed yet again, but with a countdown to something new.
The brute closed.
The spear committed.
The next exchange would end the fight.
Then something shifted.
His chest tightened and his heartbeat became louder, not faster but clearer. His lungs expanded. His breathing stopped feeling forced. His thoughts narrowed and organized themselves.
Pain remained.
But it simply stopped being important.
His vision changed.
Not wider.
Cleaner.
Details separated themselves.
The brute's shield angle was too high.
Its weight was committed forward.
The spear user's shoulder had locked.
The archer's arrow was coming from an angle where evasion was possible.
It became clear to him in an instant.
Distance existed.
Movement existed.
Alan blinked once.
Then moved.
Not stronger.
But surprisingly faster.
He stepped inside the shield before momentum completed. His hand caught the edge and used it to redirect himself around the brute while using his sword to open a gruesome, jagged line around its midsection. Guts spilled out, a small gasp escaped its lips, and the brute fell dead. The spear passed beside him as the shortsword thrust missed by a fraction. Repositioning himself quickly, Alan used the hilt of his sword to hit the wrist of the spear goblin.
The spear user's wrist bent wrong and the weapon dropped.
"Now's my chance!"
With a well connected swing of the gravetide blade, the spear goblin's neck opened. Deep red sprayed out, and the spear goblin became history.
[Ding! You have successfully slain a low tier C rank tank
[Ding! You have successfully slain a low tier C rank goblin
[You have leveled up!
[You have leveled up!
Then he dodged the arrow.
Another one followed swiftly.
Alan ducked.
Not because he saw it.
Because his body had already instinctively begun to adapt to inhuman speeds.
Everything felt connected.
Then a new message appeared.
[New Skill Awakened!
Name: Adrenaline Rush.
Type: Utility/ Enhancement
Grade:Rare {Upgradeable under special conditions}
Description: Temporarily blocks pain signals sent to the brain and increases reaction speed, threat assessment, and physical output.
Activation conditions: Mental exhaustion exceeding 70% or 200 mana
Cost: All pain numbed while damage was taken will be received with 15% more effectiveness.
Duration: 300 seconds]
Alan stared at it for less than a second.
Then he understood immediately.
This was not overwhelming or destructive power, this was access.
With this, his body could temporarily stop lagging behind his decisions.
The goblin with glasses watched him carefully.
Not surprised. But concerned.
That difference mattered. A lot.
Alan adjusted his grip and lowered his center of gravity. No light gathered. No energy surged. His injuries remained. His stats remained. His enemies remained. But for the first time since entering the clearing...
Alan no longer felt slower than the battle around him.
Suddenly he remembered a line from a popular movie he watched back on earth.
"A battle does not become easier because enemies disappear. Sometimes it becomes harder. Because numbers create noise, and noise hides the real threats. When only the important enemies remain, there is nowhere left to hide."
Alan stood still for a moment and let himself breathe.
Not because the fight was over, but because his body demanded rest.
He looked at his palm, it trembled faintly as it had visible callouses here and there. " But it doesn't hurt...", he muttered.
Adrenaline Rush was active, but active did not mean free.
His wounds were still there, although he didn't quite feel the pain as much as he should.
The shoulder where the arrow had been pulled out still bled slowly. His side still hurt every time he inhaled too deeply. His calf stung where the arrow had cut him. His upper arm throbbed from the spear wound.
None of that permanently disappeared, but his body had simply stopped reporting it properly.
That distinction mattered.
Back on Earth, whenever he read manhwas, enhancement skills were always about MCs punching, then punching harder. But now he came to a new realization.
People misunderstand enhancement skills.
They assume greater strength and might. But most of the time, those were simply permissions. Permissions to ignore limits temporarily.
Alan looked around.
The battlefield was quiet. Too quiet.
The remaining brute had collapsed.
The spear user was no longer moving.
The formation was gone.
That left two.
The hidden archer, and the goblin with glasses.
Alan slowly turned his head uphill.
The goblin with glasses stood exactly where it had before.
Same posture, same calm expression. Its clothes were untouched, its breathing unchanged.
Its hands were positioned around its back.
Like the battlefield had happened around it rather than because of it.
The glasses reflected the setting sunlight and hid its eyes.
Then it spoke.
"You adapted faster than estimated."
Alan said nothing.
The goblin continued.
"Noticeable Light affinity. Combat adaptation under pressure. First enhancement awakening."
A pause. Its head tilted slightly.
"Interesting."
Alan's grip tightened.
He finally understood why that word bothered him.
Interesting implied distance. Interesting meant no hatred. No respect. No fear. Interesting was how people described things they planned to dissect.
Alan looked toward the trees.
Nothing.
No movement. No visible archer.
Which meant the archer was disciplined.
The goblin with glasses noticed his gaze, then spoke again.
"You found the command structure."
Alan's eyes moved back. The goblin nodded once.
"Most don't."
That sentence settled strangely.
Not mocking. Not impressed. But Informational.
Like this had happened before.
Alan's chest tightened.
Not from fear, but from understanding.
This wasn't random. This group had done this before.
Testing. Observing. Collecting.
His breathing steadied.
Adrenaline Rush sharpened thought, but dulled emotion.
So instead of reacting, Alan murmured quietly.
"Why am I alive?"
The goblin looked at him for several seconds. Then answered.
"Because you changed."
No elaboration. No explanation. Just that.
Then it raised one hand.
Nothing happened. Alan stayed still.
Three seconds.
Four.
Five.
Then—
an arrow whizzed through the treeline, as if cutting through the air.
No sound. No warning. Just impact.
Alan smirked internally.
His body reacted, tilting his head sideways.
The arrow missed his neck by centimeters.
Another arrow. This time lower.
He dodged again. Third. Fourth.
No rhythm. No pattern.
His breathing changed. Not panic. But Calculation began running through his head.
The archer wasn't shooting to hit, he was measuring.
Every dodge. Every reaction.
Every correction. Testing Adrenaline Rush.
The glasses goblin watched.
No commands. No gestures.
Then Alan understood.
The commander wasn't commanding anymore.
It didn't need to.
The archer already knew what to do next.
That realization made something cold settle in his chest.
The hidden sixth wasn't support. The hidden sixth was the strongest one.
Another arrow came.
Alan moved.
A second too late. The shaft cut across his ribs.
Shallow. Controlled.
Again. Another one followed.
His sleeve tore. Another came.
His cheek opened.
Each shot close, none lethal.
The archer was herding him.
Alan looked around.
His feet had moved without him noticing.
Then he stopped.
His eyes widened slightly.
The terrain had changed. He had been forcibly moved to open ground.
Minimal cover. Good visibility. The perfect terrain for an archer.
The same thing they had done to him earlier, only cleaner!
The goblin with glasses spoke.
"You learn quickly."
Another pause.
"But adaptation requires time."
Its hand lowered.
"Kill him."
The forest changed, and for the first time—
Alan saw it.
A figure high in the trees.
Small. Thin. Wrapped in faded cloth.
Bow already drawn.
No movement wasted. No dramatic reveal. Just a goblin aiming.
The arrow glowed faintly, mana swirled at the tip.
Compression. Prepared.
Alan's breathing slowed.
His heart remained controlled.
His body remained clear.
He looked at the archer.
Then at the glasses.
Then back at the archer.
And for the first time since the battle began—
he smiled.
Not because he was winning, but because he finally understood something.
The commander was not protected.
The commander was dependent.
The archer was the real weapon.
Which meant if the weapon had to reveal itself—
something had already gone wrong.
Alan lowered his stance.
His legs shook, his vision blurred briefly.
Adrenaline Rush was already becoming expensive.
[Warning! 207 seconds until body goes into breakdown]
But he still had movement, he still had Light.
And now, for the first time...
He now had a proper target.