Hidden beneath the thick canopy of the ancient forest, Evan remained motionless.
Just moments ago, he had been weighing the three possible routes to survive.
Then...
He had heard voices.
At first, he assumed another goblin patrol had caught his trail.
But the sounds were different.
There was no frantic shouting.
No hunting cries.
Only rough, guttural conversations.
Under the concealment of Nightstep, Evan silently approached until the figures came into view.
A faint smile slowly appeared beneath his mask.
"So that's what changed..."
Several Grimbark Goblin scouts sat atop Mountain Wolves, arguing while scanning the surrounding forest.
Nothing seemed unusual...
Until they spoke.
"...Search again. The human couldn't have gone far."
Evan's pupils narrowed.
He understood every single word.
"The mask..."
"It didn't copy memories... it copied the Trial's racial information."
When Memory Devour failed against the Trial's simulation body, the Mask had instinctively adapted by extracting the creature's structural data instead.
It wasn't memories.
It was knowledge.
Language...
Instinct...
And fragments of information naturally possessed by the species.
A frightening ability.
Without realising it, Evan had gained the ability to understand the Grimbark Goblins.
He quietly continued listening.
"The wolves still can't catch his scent."
One scout clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"The smell is everywhere."
Another goblin sneered.
"That cursed human should already be dead. If he isn't... then he's hiding like a frightened mole."
Several goblins burst into harsh laughter.
Only the patrol leader remained serious.
"Enough."
"If we return empty-handed, Elder Shaman will skin us alive."
The laughter instantly stopped.
Even among goblins...
That title carried weight.
One after another, patrols emerged from different directions.
Some returned empty-handed.
Others reported tracks that ultimately led nowhere.
Evan silently organised every piece of information.
'The language isn't the only thing I've gained...'
Now that he could understand them, every conversation became intelligence.
Every complaint and order...
Every careless remark...
Could become a weapon.
Slowly, the pieces began fitting together.
The Shaman they kept mentioning couldn't possibly be the leader of the main tribe.
This area was far too distant from the true Grimbark homeland.
Which meant...
There was another settlement.
A forward base.
"An outpost..."
His eyes gradually sharpened.
That explained everything.
The goblins weren't randomly roaming the forest.
They were expanding.
Rather than challenging the powerful beasts that ruled the surrounding territories...
They had found an empty piece of land.
The Skypeak Mountain.
A place abandoned by every creature because of its relentless lightning storms.
To everyone else.
It was a land of death.
For the goblins, it was the perfect place to establish a foothold.
Safe from beasts.
Hidden deep inside the forest.
The scout patrols weren't merely searching for him.
They were securing the surrounding region before the rest of the tribe advanced.
The caravan Evan had awakened inside...
Had simply stumbled into their operation.
Wrong place.
Wrong time.
Everyone had been slaughtered to erase witnesses.
And now, he was the only loose end left alive.
The more Evan thought about it...
The clearer the Trial became.
This wasn't merely a survival mission.
It was a historical event.
A reconstruction of the past.
Every choice he made wouldn't change history...
But understanding history would change his chances of surviving it.
His gaze drifted toward the distant silhouette of Skypeak Mountain.
"So this is how the Grimbarks established their first settlement..."
"If this is only the beginning..."
"Then the later phases will only become worse."
He quietly memorised everything he had learned.
According to the scattered conversations...
Over twenty scout patrols were searching the forest.
Each patrol consisted of roughly fifteen Grimbark Goblins mounted on Mountain Wolves.
The forward settlement itself housed nearly two hundred Grimbark Warriors, around thirty Hobgoblins, and a single Goblin Shaman overseeing the entire operation.
A force large enough to wipe out ordinary adventurer parties without difficulty.
At his peak...
Charging into that settlement head-on would've been too easy.
But now.
A faint smile slowly appeared on Evan's face.
"This Trial isn't asking me to become the strongest..."
"It's asking whether I can stay alive while standing in the middle of history."
At that exact moment...
A familiar notification echoed inside his mind.
[Ding!]
[Host has independently deduced the historical background of the current Trial.]
[Evaluation Score has increased.]
[Host's analytical ability has exceeded Trial expectations.]
[Recalibrating future Trial phases...]
Evan's smile instantly froze.
"...Wait."
Another notification appeared.
[Host performance has exceeded baseline predictions.]
[Subsequent Trial phases have been adjusted.]
[Overall Trial difficulty has slightly increased.]
[May the Host survive.]
"...You've got to be kidding me."
For the first time since entering the Trial.
Evan genuinely regretted thinking too much.
Evan let out a long sigh.
"Getting a higher evaluation was fine..."
"But increasing the Trial difficulty on top of that?"
"As if surviving wasn't already hard enough..."
He dismissed the notification and waited patiently until the goblin patrol disappeared into the darkness.
Only after confirming the surroundings were clear did he finally move.
His destination had already been decided.
Skypeak Mountain.
If there was any place where he could break free from the goblins' encirclement, it was there.
His weakened body protested with every step.
The ninety-five percent suppression wasn't just a number.
His muscles felt heavier.
His breathing was uneven.
Even maintaining Nightstep while moving through the forest gradually drained his mana.
Normally, covering six kilometers would've taken only minutes.
Now...
Every leap between branches demanded complete concentration.
As he travelled, another detail slowly became impossible to ignore.
The forest was... quiet.
Too quiet.
Not a single beast had crossed his path.
No predators.
No territorial monsters.
Not even ordinary wildlife.
Only goblins, and their wolves.
Evan frowned.
"Something's wrong."
This was supposed to be one of the oldest forests within the Trial.
There should've been countless magical beasts occupying every section of it.
Instead...
It felt deserted.
Then realisation struck him.
"This isn't natural..."
"They've already cleaned the area."
The scout patrols weren't simply searching for survivors.
They were systematically eliminating every obstacle around the future settlement.
Beasts.
Travelers.
Anything capable of threatening their foothold.
Only after securing the region would the tribe begin expanding deeper into the forest.
It was a military operation.
Not a random hunt.
The caravan Evan had awakened inside had simply wandered into the middle of it.
Wrong place.
Perfect timing... for the goblins.
"If that's true..."
"Then the Shaman leading this operation can't be weak."
The thought made his expression grow serious.
A goblin capable of coordinating dozens of patrols and controlling an entire forward settlement...
Even conservatively...
It should be around the same level or just below the Lord leading the tribe for sure.
Anything weaker wouldn't be able to command so many warriors.
Evan continued advancing from tree to tree.
Minutes slowly passed.
Eventually, the holographic map inside his mind highlighted a familiar marker.
Settlement Detected.
He immediately descended from the trees and concealed himself behind dense bushes.
Nightstep quietly swallowed his presence.
Only then did he carefully raise his head.
The moment he saw it...
His expression stiffened.
"It's... bigger than I expected."
The settlement stood against the foothills leading toward Skypeak Mountain.
Tall wooden walls surrounded the entire camp.
Watchtowers overlooked the forest.
Torches burned across the perimeter.
Goblin warriors patrolled without pause while wolves prowled between the entrances.
Inside, hundreds of figures moved busily between huts, supply piles, and training grounds.
Far more organised than any ordinary goblin tribe.
Evan silently observed everything.
"Over two hundred warriors..."
"The estimate wasn't wrong after all."
The tribe's breeding speed had always been terrifying.
Combined with strict discipline...
Even Tier 1 adventurers would think twice before provoking them.
As for him...
Charging through the front gate would be nothing less than suicide.
He slowly calmed himself.
"Think."
"There's always a way in."
Instead of searching for a path through the walls, he began studying the goblins themselves.
Their patrol rotations.
Supply routes.
Blind spots.
Every weakness, habit and opportunity.
Because defeating them was impossible.
But slipping past them...
That was another story.
Just then...
A nearby bush rustled.
Evan's instincts exploded.
His hand instantly gripped Crimson Edge.
Lightning quietly gathered around his legs.
His breathing slowed.
The sword tip pointed toward the moving shrub.
One strike.
That was all he needed.
The leaves suddenly parted.
A small figure slowly stepped out.
The killing intent in Evan's eyes vanished.
His pupils widened in disbelief.
"...Oh?"
For the first time since entering the Trial...
The enemy standing before him...
Wasn't a goblin.
__
A/N: Hello everyone, it's the author here. I apologise for the delay in my post. Unfortunately, my devices are having issues, making it difficult to perform even simple tasks. I'm currently using my phone to share this update.
I hope to get my devices repaired soon. I appreciate your patience, and I will do my best to post more frequently as soon as possible. Thank you!