The forest loomed darker than usual. The moonlight barely pierced the canopy, turning twisted roots into lurking shadows. Arin crouched low behind a fallen log, watching faint orange embers flicker in the distance—the telltale light of a goblin fire.
His pulse thundered. Alright. Seven goblins. Maybe more. I can't screw this up.
The system's translucent panel hovered in his vision.
[Abilities Available:]
Goblin Agility (Active)
Goblin Ferocity (Active)
Nightwolf Senses (Passive)
Lyanna's Archery Instinct (Copy Progress: 62%)
Arin whispered, "Activate Goblin Agility."
Warmth surged through his legs. His muscles coiled tighter, his body lighter, almost spring-loaded. When he leapt onto the log, he landed without a sound. Holy crap, I feel like I could do parkour now.
The goblins' guttural voices carried through the clearing. They argued, screeched, laughed with sharp teeth flashing in the firelight.
Arin's throat went dry. They looked uglier up close—sinewy green bodies, mottled skin, jagged weapons of bone and rusted iron.
He swallowed. Okay, don't panic. Strategy first.
His Nightwolf senses tingled, sharpening his hearing. He counted carefully: one… two… three… four by the fire. Two shadows moving at the edge. Another inside the crude wooden hut.
Seven total. Great. Just perfect.
His brain raced. He couldn't take them head-on. But… what if he acted like one of them?
A risky grin crept across his face. "Let's see if Goblin Ferocity comes with… theatrics."
[Goblin Ferocity Activated.]
Instantly, his blood boiled. A savage hunger gnawed at his chest, his jaw tightening like he could bite through iron. He had to fight to stay in control.
"Ugghh…" he groaned, then tried mimicking their snarls. His throat scratched, but the sound came disturbingly close.
He crept closer, crouched low, moving like them. Every step matched their jittery rhythm.
The goblin at the edge of camp turned suddenly. Its yellow eyes narrowed, hand reaching for its spear.
Arin froze.
The goblin sniffed… then grunted and turned away, scratching its head.
Arin exhaled shakily. Okay. That's both terrifying and amazing.
Minutes crawled by. He circled the camp, analyzing their layout. A pile of weapons lay stacked near the hut. He could sabotage them… or create chaos.
Then an idea hit him. Copy system needs contact, right?
If he could brush against one unnoticed…
Arin crouched by the log, whispering, "System, can I copy skills without fighting?"
[Affirmative. Touch or sustained proximity allows skill absorption.]
His grin widened. "Busted. Time to farm goblins."
He slipped closer, brushing past one goblin sharpening a knife. The creature growled faintly but didn't notice him before wandering back to the fire.
[New Skill Acquired: Goblin Weapon Improvisation.]
(In Progress: 4 hours remaining)
Arin nearly fist-pumped. This system is insane.
One down. He slithered around another, brushing against its shoulder while it gnawed on bone.
[New Skill Copied: Primitive Camouflage.]
(In Progress: 6 hours remaining)
He almost laughed out loud. I'm literally speedrunning evolution here.
But his luck snapped.
The goblin in the hut staggered out, carrying a sack of what looked like… severed animal legs. Its eyes locked onto him instantly.
"GrraaaHhh?!"
The others turned. Seven pairs of yellow eyes burned through the night.
Arin froze. Then, with the system window still glowing in his sight, he whispered, "Screw it. Fight time."
The first goblin lunged with a jagged spear.
Arin's Goblin Agility flared—his body moved faster than his brain. He ducked under the strike, slammed his palm into the goblin's chest, and it went sprawling into the fire pit with a screech.
The others roared, charging.
Arin's vision sharpened, Nightwolf senses blazing. Every motion slowed, every enemy glowing in his awareness.
One swung a rusted axe. Arin side-stepped and kicked its knee sideways—the goblin crumpled with a howl.
Another leapt from the side. Without thinking, Arin grabbed a burning log from the fire and smashed it across the creature's face. It shrieked, skin sizzling.
Adrenaline and Goblin Ferocity mingled in his veins. His heart pounded, his mouth twisted into a grin both wild and horrified. Holy hell, I'm actually winning!
But three goblins remained, circling him with spears. They jabbed in turns, forcing him back toward the hut.
Arin's mind whirled. Too many angles. I can't block them all.
Then his eyes flicked to the weapon pile.
He dove, rolled, and came up with a crude bow in his hands.
[Lyanna's Archery Instinct – 87% Copied.]
He nocked an arrow. His fingers moved like they'd always known the motion. He loosed.
The arrow sank into a goblin's shoulder with deadly accuracy. The creature shrieked, dropping its spear.
Arin blinked. I didn't even think—I just shot.
The other two charged. He fired again, striking one in the thigh. The last reached him, jabbing its spear.
Arin ducked, grabbed the shaft, and yanked the goblin forward—then headbutted it with all the Goblin Ferocity he could muster.
Crunch.
The goblin collapsed, twitching.
Panting, Arin stood among fallen bodies. His arms shook. His breath came in ragged gasps.
He looked down at his bloodied hands. I… I actually killed seven goblins. Alone.
The system chimed.
[Combat Complete.]
[Skills Copied:]
Goblin Weapon Improvisation (Complete)
Primitive Camouflage (Complete)
Pack Instinct (Partial Sync: 2 hours remaining)**
Arin collapsed against the hut, laughing breathlessly.
"I did it… Holy crap, I did it."
Then he froze.
A deeper roar echoed from the trees. Not goblin. Something larger.
His stomach plummeted. …That wasn't the final boss, was it?
The forest shuddered with the sound of that roar. It wasn't the ragged screech of a goblin. It was deeper, resonant, carrying weight like a drumbeat inside Arin's chest.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
He staggered back from the hut, clutching the crude bow still in his hand. The fire flickered low, casting shadows over the sprawled corpses of goblins. The night itself seemed to still in dread.
From between the trees, heavy footsteps thudded. Leaves quivered. Branches snapped.
Then it appeared.
A massive goblin, taller than two men, hunched and broad-shouldered, with tusks jutting from its jaw and skin darkened almost to black. A jagged iron greatclub rested on its shoulder like a toy. Its glowing red eyes locked onto the carnage in the clearing.
"GrraaaAAHHhhhhh!"
Arin's blood froze. Goblin Champion.
The system flickered.
[New Threat Detected: Goblin Champion][Estimated Power: C-Rank Monster][Warning: Recommended retreat.]
"Yeah, no kidding," Arin hissed under his breath.
But his legs didn't move. He couldn't retreat—not now. If this thing followed him back, it could threaten Lyanna's people. Worse, if he didn't face it, he'd never break past his current limits.
His grip tightened on the bow. "Alright… let's gamble."
The Champion charged. Its steps thundered like an earthquake, its club swinging sideways with murderous force.
Arin leapt back, Goblin Agility blazing in his veins. The club smashed the firepit into sparks, scattering burning wood. The shockwave alone nearly knocked him off his feet.
He raised the bow, drew, and fired—instinct guiding his aim.
The arrow struck the Champion's shoulder, but the monster barely flinched. It tore the shaft out with a grunt and hurled it aside.
That didn't even slow it down.
The Champion roared again, charging. Arin dove behind the hut, barely avoiding the next swing that splintered wood like straw.
Think! Think!
His Nightwolf senses screamed—danger to the left. He rolled just as the Champion's hand swiped through where he'd been.
"Okay… I can't win head-on. Need… leverage."
His eyes flicked to the fallen goblins. Their crude weapons scattered across the ground. Their blood steaming faintly in the cool night air.
Arin's chest tightened. Copy system. That's my only chance.
He sprinted toward a corpse, diving low and pressing his hand to its chest.
[Skill Copied: Goblin Endurance](In Progress: 5 minutes to completion.)
"Not fast enough!" he snarled.
The Champion's club slammed down. Arin barely tumbled aside, dirt exploding around him.
He scrambled to his feet, ducking behind another corpse. His hand brushed bone armor slick with blood.
[Skill Copied: Primitive Armor Adaptation](In Progress: 3 minutes to completion.)
The Champion spotted him, roaring, and hurled its massive club.
The weapon spun end over end, smashing through the hut and showering the clearing with wood. Arin barely rolled aside again, heart hammering out of his chest.
I can't outrun this forever.
The system chimed.
[Lyanna's Archery Instinct – Complete.]
His bow hand steadied. His mind cleared. It was like a floodgate opening—the stances, the breathing, the rhythm of a hunter's pulse.
Arin rose, nocked an arrow, and aimed.
The Champion charged, empty-handed but relentless.
He loosed.
The arrow streaked through the air and buried itself in the Champion's thigh. The beast roared, stumbling.
Arin's eyes narrowed. Got you.
Another arrow, this time to the shoulder. Another to the hip. His hands moved faster than thought, drawing and releasing, each shot guided by instinct that wasn't his own.
The Champion howled, blood dripping from its wounds—but it didn't stop. It lunged forward and slammed its fist into the ground, the shockwave tossing Arin aside like a doll.
He crashed into a tree, pain lancing through his ribs. The bow slipped from his grip.
Damn it… too strong.
The monster stomped toward him, shadow towering.
Arin coughed blood, his vision swimming. "System… anything left?"
[Primitive Armor Adaptation – Complete.][Goblin Endurance – Complete.]
A rush of sturdiness flooded his limbs. The pain dulled. His body hardened as if layers of invisible hide wrapped around him. He forced himself to stand.
The Champion raised its massive fist.
Arin bent low, muscles coiled with Goblin Agility. At the last second, he dashed forward, sliding under the descending blow.
The ground cracked where he'd been.
Arin snatched a jagged spear from the dirt. He spun, ferocity blazing in his veins, and rammed the weapon into the Champion's side.
The beast howled, swinging blindly. Arin ducked, teeth gritted. Not enough. Need more.
Then—his mind flashed. Pack Instinct.
The system pulsed.
[Pack Instinct – Complete.]
Suddenly, he felt the battlefield. Not just his body, but the rhythm of predator and prey. He could anticipate the Champion's motions a heartbeat before they happened, like invisible threads guiding his feet.
The Champion swung again. Arin leapt clear, then lunged, plunging the spear into its thigh.
Another roar. Another strike. Arin ducked, circling, stabbing, retreating, each move flowing in harmony with the monster's rage.
His eyes gleamed. This is it. I can match it.
But the Champion, bleeding and furious, grabbed its club again. With a roar, it swung in a wide arc, aiming to cleave him in two.
Arin's instincts screamed. He couldn't dodge in time.
His hand brushed the fallen bow.
[Goblin Weapon Improvisation – Complete.]
An idea sparked. He snatched an arrow, but instead of nocking it, he gripped it like a dagger.
When the club swung toward him, he leapt forward into the arc—straight at the Champion.
He roared, all ferocity unleashed, and drove the arrow into the monster's eye.
The Champion shrieked, thrashing violently. Its club smashed into the ground, narrowly missing Arin as he clung desperately to its arm.
"Die already!" he screamed, ramming the arrow deeper.
With a final shuddering cry, the Champion collapsed, its massive body crashing into the earth.
Silence.
Arin lay sprawled across its chest, panting, trembling, drenched in sweat and blood. His heart thundered, but his lips curled into a shaky smile.
"I… I actually killed a Goblin Champion…"
The system chimed one last time.
[Skill Copied: Goblin Champion's Battle Will.](In Progress: 12 hours.)
Arin closed his eyes, laughing weakly. "Worth it."
In the trees above, shadows moved.
Elves. Silent hunters with bows drawn, eyes wide. They had been tracking the goblins for days—yet this human, this stranger, had walked into the nest and slain even the Champion.
One elf whispered, "He fights like a monster…"
Another, with long silver hair and sharp eyes, said nothing. She only watched the bloodied young man below, curiosity—and something else—flickering in her gaze.
The elf queen's daughter.
The forest lay still after the Champion's death. Smoke curled weakly from the shattered firepit, mingling with the stench of blood and sweat. Arin leaned heavily on the crude spear, every muscle trembling from exhaustion. His vision swam, his body bruised and battered, but inside… a fire burned bright.
I won. Against that thing. I actually won.
The Copy System pulsed in his mind, the unfinished notification echoing.
[Skill Copied: Goblin Champion's Battle Will – In Progress. Estimated Completion: 12 hours.]
He exhaled a shaky laugh. "Twelve hours, huh? Fine. I'll still be alive in twelve hours, so I'll take it."
A faint rustle stirred behind him. Arin's senses snapped awake. He whirled, snatching the spear tighter—only to freeze.
Figures stood between the trees.
Elves.
Their forms were slender, graceful even in stillness, clad in cloaks of forest hues that blended into the night. Longbows gleamed in their hands, arrows notched but not loosed. Their eyes—sharp, wary, ancient—watched him like hunters regarding an unpredictable beast.
Arin's throat went dry.
One stepped forward. Taller than the rest, her presence commanding. Silver hair tumbled past her shoulders, catching the moonlight like spun starlight. Her eyes were emerald, cool and piercing, studying him as if peeling away his soul layer by layer.
The others lowered their heads slightly. So she's the leader.
Arin swallowed. Not the queen… too young. But she must be someone important.
The silver-haired elf spoke, her voice calm but edged like steel.
"You fought alone against a Goblin Champion. No human would survive such madness… yet you did."
Her words weren't praise. They were suspicion.
Arin forced his aching body straighter, meeting her gaze. "I had no choice. If I didn't kill it, it would've killed me."
"Perhaps." Her eyes flicked to the corpses littering the clearing. "But few humans could even wound one, let alone slay it."
Her hand lifted in signal. The other elves shifted, encircling him in silent precision. The bowstrings creaked faintly.
Arin's grip tightened on the spear. His Copy System was still recovering; his body screamed in protest. Against trained elven warriors, he wouldn't last a breath.
The silver-haired elf studied him one moment longer, then lowered her hand. The bows eased, though not fully.
"You will come with us."
It wasn't a request.
Arin frowned. "And if I refuse?"
Her eyes sharpened. "Then you'll find yourself pierced by a dozen arrows before you take another step."
Arin's jaw clenched. Figures. He wasn't in a position to negotiate. Not yet.
With a sigh, he let the spear clatter to the ground and raised his hands. "Fine. Lead the way."
The journey through the forest was silent but tense. The elves moved like shadows, each step soundless, their formation perfect. Arin trudged in their midst, every instinct aware that he was prey surrounded by predators.
Occasionally, he caught the silver-haired leader glancing back at him. Her gaze wasn't merely suspicion—it was calculation, as though weighing his existence against something greater.
She's not just a soldier, Arin realized. She's someone with authority. A princess, maybe?
After what felt like hours, the dense trees began to thin. A faint glow shimmered ahead. Arin's breath caught as the forest opened into a vast glade.
Before him stretched an elven village.
Glorious trees rose like living towers, their trunks carved with graceful stairways and bridges that spiraled upward into homes glowing with lantern-light. Waterfalls glistened as they poured into crystal pools, feeding rivers that wove like silver threads through the settlement. The air was rich with the scent of flowers and the sound of soft chimes stirred by wind.
Arin stood frozen, awe-struck. He had seen fantasy worlds in games, read about them in novels… but to stand here, to see it with his own eyes, was overwhelming.
"Move," one elf behind him muttered, prodding him forward with a bow.
Arin shook himself and stepped onward, trying not to gape too much. His Copy System hummed faintly in his mind, analyzing everything—the architecture, the creatures perched among the boughs, even the faint enchantments woven into the air.
Magic saturation detected.
[Analysis: Elven Enclave – Mana Density High.]
So this was what a land touched by millennia of tradition felt like.
The elves led him deeper until they reached a great platform at the heart of the settlement. There, beneath an ancient tree wider than any castle tower, a throne of woven roots rose. Upon it sat a woman.
Her beauty was serene, timeless. Golden hair cascaded like sunlight, her gown woven of living leaves and silver thread. A crown of blossoms and crystal rested upon her brow, but it was the sheer weight of presence that made Arin's knees want to buckle.
The Elf Queen.
The silver-haired elf dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. The others followed suit.
Arin, still half-dazed, blinked before slowly kneeling as well. Play along, Arin. Don't get yourself executed.
The Queen's gaze fell upon him. It wasn't harsh. It wasn't kind. It was… curious. Like one might regard a strange artifact pulled from a ruin.
"You bring me a human," the Queen said softly. Her voice carried like music through the glade. "Why?"
The silver-haired elf lifted her head. "Because, Mother… he slew a Goblin Champion. Alone."
A murmur rippled through the elves. Shock. Disbelief. Even disdain.
The Queen's eyes sharpened ever so slightly. They fell upon Arin again. "Is this true?"
Arin wet his lips. "I didn't plan on it. I just… fought to survive. I don't know what else to tell you."
The Queen leaned back, regarding him in silence. Then, slowly, she smiled.
"Interesting."
Arin's heart skipped. That doesn't sound like 'kill him immediately'.
But then her next words chilled him.
"We will test him."
The silver-haired elf bowed again. "As you command."
The Queen's gaze softened just slightly. "Rest, stranger. Tomorrow, your fate will be decided. If you survive the Trial, perhaps you are no mere wanderer. If not…"
Her voice faded, but the meaning was clear.
Arin forced a smile, though sweat ran down his back. "Yeah. No pressure."
That night, they gave him a simple hut on the edge of the village. Guards stood outside, silent as statues. He collapsed onto the bed of woven moss, his body aching but his mind racing.
The Copy System pulsed faintly again.
[Goblin Champion's Battle Will – 8 hours remaining.]
He stared at the glowing notification above him, then chuckled weakly.
"Great. Tomorrow, I've got to fight again. And this time, the audience isn't goblins—it's elves deciding if I'm worth keeping alive."
His fist clenched.
So be it. If I want to build anything here—friends, alliances, a kingdom—I need to prove I'm more than just a lucky human with tricks. I need to show them I belong.
He lay back, staring at the carved ceiling above, determination steady in his chest.
The Trial awaited.
And Arin was ready.
The first rays of dawn pierced through the canopy, washing the elven village in shades of gold and green. Birds sang a chorus that seemed to echo the life of the forest itself. Arin sat cross-legged on the moss bed, eyes closed, forcing his breath to steady.
The Copy System pulsed faintly within his mind.
[Goblin Champion's Battle Will – Copy Complete.][New Skill Acquired: Indomitable Resolve (Passive). Effect: Resistance to fear, increased morale in battle, minor boost to physical stamina when injured.]
Arin's lips curled into a grin. "Now that's useful."
He flexed his hands, feeling a subtle strength flowing through him. It wasn't raw power—it was the ability to push forward when everything screamed to stop. Against what lay ahead, he'd need that and more.
A sharp knock came at the door.
The silver-haired elf from last night entered, her posture rigid. "The Queen awaits. The Trial begins."
Arin rose, brushing off his clothes. "Guess I should thank you for not putting an arrow in my back yesterday."
Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. With a flick of her hand, she motioned him to follow.
The heart of the village was transformed. Platforms circling the great tree were crowded with elves, hundreds watching in hushed anticipation. Their gazes burned into Arin as he was led onto a wide arena of polished wood, ringed with glowing runes.
The Queen sat upon her throne once more, radiant in the dawn. Beside her stood the silver-haired elf—her daughter, Arin now realized with certainty. The resemblance was unmistakable.
The Queen raised a hand, and silence fell over the glade.
"Stranger. Human. You slew a Goblin Champion, and yet your origin and purpose are shrouded. For the safety of our kin, we cannot allow such an anomaly to wander free. Therefore, you will undergo the Trial."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Arin exhaled, gripping the crude spear they had returned to him. "What exactly does this Trial involve?"
The Queen's smile was faint, enigmatic. "Survive."
The runes around the arena flared to life. From the opposite side, a portal shimmered open.
Arin's breath caught.
A beast lumbered forth—towering, covered in shaggy fur, tusks jutting from its maw. Its eyes glowed crimson, its claws gouging deep into the wooden floor without effort.
An Ursa Beast. Twice the size of a bear, fueled by mana and rage.
Elves whispered in awe. To them, this was more than a challenge—it was a death sentence.
The silver-haired princess's brows furrowed, but she held her tongue.
Arin's pulse raced. Perfect. Just what I needed—another chance to die horribly.
The beast roared, shaking the arena. Arin steadied himself.
[New Copy Target Available: Ursa Beast.][Warning: Copy Duration – 24 hours.]
Arin's grin sharpened. Copy away, system. I'll just need to survive long enough for it to finish.
The Ursa charged, its bulk thundering across the arena. Arin dove aside, the ground quaking as claws ripped gouges where he'd stood. Splinters flew.
He rolled, came up, jabbed his spear at its side. The tip scraped fur, barely leaving a mark. The beast bellowed, enraged.
"Of course it's not that easy," Arin muttered, darting backward.
The crowd watched intently. Some sneered, others whispered, expecting him to be crushed within moments.
The Ursa swung a paw the size of a shield. Arin ducked, the wind of the strike nearly throwing him off balance. He darted in, slashing at its foreleg—again, shallow.
But his movements… they were sharper than yesterday. The Champion's Battle Will steadied his fear, guided his body. Every instinct screamed of danger, but he met it head-on, refusing to falter.
The Ursa reared back, roaring. Mana gathered in its throat, glowing red.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
It unleashed a beam of raw energy, scorching across the arena. Arin sprinted, the blast searing past, heat licking his back. He dove into a roll, came up panting.
The elves murmured louder. This wasn't a trial—it was spectacle. A human dodging an Ursa Beast's mana breath was unheard of.
Arin grit his teeth. Think. You can't kill it head-on. Not yet. You need to outlast it. Make it bleed. Make it work for every strike.
He darted around the arena, jabbing, slashing, retreating. The Ursa's roars shook the branches above, its movements growing more furious as small wounds accumulated. Blood matted its fur in streaks.
The System flickered.
[Copy Progress: 12%...]
Good. Keep it up.
The beast's paw smashed down. Arin rolled, grabbed a shard of broken wood, and hurled it into the beast's eye. It roared, blinded for a moment, thrashing wildly.
Seizing the chance, Arin plunged his spear into its side with both hands. The tip drove deeper this time, piercing muscle. Hot blood sprayed across his arms.
The Ursa roared, swinging blindly. Arin tore the spear free, rolling away just as claws shredded the ground.
His chest heaved, every breath ragged. Sweat stung his eyes. But inside—inside, the fire only burned hotter.
"I'm not done yet!"
From her throne, the Queen leaned forward, eyes gleaming with intrigue. This human was no ordinary wanderer. The way he adapted, the refusal to yield—it stirred memories of ancient warriors.
Beside her, the princess whispered, "Mother… he'll die if this continues."
The Queen's smile was faint. "Perhaps. Or perhaps he will surprise us again."
The Ursa Beast, half-blinded, bellowed and gathered mana once more. Its chest swelled, glow building.
Arin's eyes widened. "Not another one."
He sprinted—not away, but toward. The crowd gasped.
At the last second, he dove beneath its maw, jamming his spear upward into the glowing throat. The beam choked, burst outward in a fiery explosion that sent both man and beast sprawling.
The arena shook. Smoke billowed. Silence reigned.
Slowly, Arin pushed himself up, coughing blood, his body screaming. His spear was shattered, his arms numb.
The Ursa staggered, blood pouring from its throat wound. It swayed, roared weakly, then collapsed with a thunderous crash.
Dead.
Arin fell to his knees, barely holding himself upright.
The elves erupted into chaos—shouts, disbelief, awe.
The Queen rose gracefully, her voice carrying clear above the noise.
"Enough. He has proven himself."
Her gaze fell upon Arin, and for the first time, her lips curved into a genuine smile.
"Welcome to our forest, human. You may live."
Arin collapsed backward, laughing breathlessly. "Thanks… I think…"
The System pulsed.
[Copy Progress: 37%...]
That night, the elves celebrated. Fires burned bright, music filled the air. For the first time, they looked at Arin not as prey, but as something else.
The silver-haired princess approached him as he rested near the fire. Her eyes were still sharp, but no longer hostile.
"You're reckless. Foolish. You could have died a dozen times today."
Arin smirked, wincing as he shifted. "Yeah, but I didn't. That's got to count for something, right?"
For a moment, her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. She caught herself, then turned away. "Don't think this means we trust you. You still have much to prove."
Arin leaned back, gazing up at the stars. His body ached, his future uncertain—but his heart was light.
This was only the beginning.
The path ahead promised adventure, danger, alliances… and perhaps something more.
The Copy System pulsed within him, hungering for power.
And Arin was ready to seize it.