Nothing leaped up at Noah the moment the timer hit zero, so he considered that a small victory for now. He could see a light blue forcefield that pierced into the skies, at the very edges of his vision. The purpose of it should be to demarcate the grid that had been assigned to him. It included both the forest and the field of flowers, and it stretched out far beyond that.

Noah wondered how many people had decided to participate in this trial, considering the system had allocated them a fairly humongous chunk of land. Either it wasn't that much when compared to Earth's total population, or he had grossly estimated the size of the landmass contained within the tower. Wait, there were multiple towers found across the world, so maybe the one he was in only had American 'challengers'. Further speculation right now served no purpose, so he could only relegate the question to the back of his mind for now.

The real question he had to answer right now was which route to take. As long as he slew a few monsters, food and water wouldn't be an issue. Provided that he wouldn't die on the first encounter that is. If he proceeded into the sea of flowers, any monsters rushing towards him would be easily spotted. He couldn't see what lied beyond the sea of flowers, it could be a series of empty plains without any cover or a mist-filled land with zero visibility, but that was an acceptable risk.

The real issue was, humans. He doubted anyone would outright attack him, after all his kind wasn't some philistine race that only solved issues with violence. The real issue would be if he was approached by someone who wanted to form an alliance with him. If he accepted, he would constantly have to live with one eye open, wary of a betrayal. If he declined, there was a very real possibility of the refuted person reacting with hostility. In the open field of flowers, there was no place where he could hide or terrain he could make himself scarce in, making combat the only alternative left.

The forest seemed like a far more dangerous place, but people who had selected the Tower of Glory had done so voluntarily. Well, unless everyone had a spectral companion of their own and the illusion of choice was simply present to torment humanity. The Tower seemed to encourage bravery and courage, so taking the 'cowardly' option might end up having some repercussions instead.

He wondered if he was making the dumbest mistake of his life, as he cautiously proceeded into the forest of mutated trees. His knuckles were slightly white from how tightly he was gripping the hilt of his sword, held pointing upward and ready to explode at the sign of even the slightest hint of movement. It would not be a pretty sword form, but if he was going to meet his end here, he'd be damned if he didn't go out swinging.

Noah cringed as his footsteps made a crunching noise as he made his foray into the unknown. The forest was littered with dead leaves at its entrance, it seemed as if it was currently autumn season within the tower. The humongous trees blocked a large portion of the 'natural light', even though they weren't particularly clustered together. Noah could still see clearly, but he ventured a guess that night time wouldn't be the most pleasurable experience.

He took off his shoes and thought about accessing the inventory instead of saying it out loud. Since the tower implanted a blue screen into his head, this wouldn't be too much of a stretch now, would it? Much to his relief, it materialized. He didn't want to make any sound unless necessary. Then he thought about wishing to deposit his shoes, and after hitting a manual confirmation they got sucked in by a miniature black hole. Despite having seen the process before, it still fascinated him to no end.

His footsteps still made a crunching sound as he proceeded deeper into the forest, but the sound was much more muted compared to earlier. The foliage within the forest was manageable, and from what he'd seen so far, nothing out of the ordinary. Bushes, shrubs, and some undergrowth got in his way a few times, but thankfully they weren't oversized this time. He'd simply swing his sword if needed or just walk over the obstruction as he walked deeper without a particular direction in his mind. Though he hoped he was moving away from the goblin lord, and not towards it.

The air had a slightly fruity fragrance to it, while a gentle wind could be felt at his back as he progressed. Honestly, this place wasn't bad for a natural retreat, away from the worries of the city. He felt slightly wistful at not having experienced the bountiful nature of mother earth, back when the environment around him wasn't trying to kill him.

A rustling noise from up ahead severed all thoughts of vacation, and Noah tensed up as he braced for impact. Something or someone was coming for him. And from the sound of it, there were multiple.

Guttural sounds in an unintelligible language echoed out from the shrubs only a couple of meters away from him, and two silhouettes burst out from within with nimble deftness. Standing at half the height of an average male, two green-skinned figures clothed in rags appeared in his field of view. Their physical makeup was humanoid, but there were a few stark differences that stood out like a sore thumb. Their backs were slightly crooked, making their posture slightly hunched forward, though that didn't seem to impede their movement. They had a vicious snarl plastered on their face, and pitch-black eyes that added to their ominous presence.

The one in front had a short sword he was a few moments away from hurling in Noah's direction, while the other one had an oversized club that seemed to be designed for a regular human instead of a goblin. Due to the weight of the club, it ended up lagging behind in comparison to his compatriot.

Noah's heartbeat rapidly sped up, and his instincts screamed at him to retaliate. Though he had prepared himself as best he could for this situation, when faced with an actual creature coming at him with a pointed sword with an intention to kill him, his lack of experience in actual combat proved to be a stumbling block.

Noah screamed, freaked out by the whole situation. He was a normal college kid a few damn hours ago, not some mercenary trained in hand to hand combat. Everything he had theorized, like the optimal conditions for fighting the opponent, went for a toss as he exerted all the strength into his right hand and let it explode in the general vicinity of the goblin that had already made it within striking distance.

Instead of attacking with the pointed side, he ended up whacking the flat side of his sword like a mace instead as adrenaline had completely taken over the possibility of a nuanced approach. With his advantage in height resulting in far greater reach, his blade was poised to reach his foe first.

The goblin's eyes widened, and it hurriedly canceled it's strike and instead positioned itself to deflect the incoming blow. It's shortsword managed to partly catch the blow, but it was all for naught. Noah's brute force attack blew through the goblin's desperate guard, causing its sword to tumble out of the clutches of its hands, followed by a resounding crack. The goblin had been struck squarely at the temple, the undispersed momentum behind the attack causing its neck to violently jerk in the other direction. It crumpled to the ground shortly after, and Noah looked at the blue blood seeping out of its forehead with revulsion for the act that he had just committed.

The feeling that came with having killed another existence with a humanoid build made him feel queasy, but the enraged howl of the club-wielding goblin only a few meters away made sure that he had no time to debate the morality of his actions. Since he had already killed one of them, his frayed nerves had settled down a bit. He had let his fear cloud his judgment earlier, the goblins weren't as terrifying as they looked He had the advantage in reach, strength, and height, if anything they should be the ones hesitant to approach him.

That however did not stop the second goblin from charging at him while howling in fury, his oversized club in tow. If nothing else, the first goblin had brought enough time for its compatriot to pose a much more significant threat. Thankfully, there was still time to react. Taking advantage of his long legs, even compared to human standards, Noah sharply veered to the right in an attempt to sidestep the attack. Noah heard the wind whistle by him as the club struck the area he had just been standing on. The only reason he had evaded it was because a single step of his amounted to two, or even three steps for the goblin. If the attacker had been human, he would've been toast.

The goblin's club only struck air, and it looked confused as to why he hadn't heard the familiar sound of cracking bones. It had a much lower field of view, Noah probably belonged to a race of giants from its perspective, and just disappeared from his sight.

Noah's eyes turned cold as he visualized what would happen if he was struck by that club. Since it had no compunctions about striking him with enough force to break every bone in his body, he wouldn't hold back either. He adjusted his footing to face the goblin and unleashed his blade, this time by the edge. He targetted the back of its head, and this time there was far less hesitation in his strike compared to before. It felt as if he were slicing through butter, as a fountain of blue blood exploded a moment later. It was not his intention to, but he had ended up beheading the goblin in a single strike, the poor goblin a victim of his anger at the unreasonable situation he found himself in.

Panting at the exertion, he took a few deep breathes to stabilize himself. He wanted to distance himself from this place as soon as possible, as their fight had no doubt caused a great deal of noise in the vicinity.

"Hey kid, Duck!" came a voice from behind him, in a thick British accent. His pupils narrowed in horror as he realized that he had heard that voice before, it was the owner of the hand! A dreadful sensation engulfed him, but he decided to obey the voice for now. If a ghost wanted to harm him, he was dead anyway. Apart from consigning him to damnation, it had not tried to harm him until now, and something about the tone instinctively made him trust it. The tone seemed more out of concern than a twisted desire to mess around with him, so he obeyed and dropped to his knees.

He felt something blow past the top of his head, and he watched in stupefaction as a blue-skinned goblin holding a dagger landed in front of him, combat rolling a few times to stabilize its fall.

He realized that he had just narrowly avoided a goblin assassination attempt thanks to the mysterious voice's assistance. The whole situation was so preposterous he wasn't sure how to react, but his instincts helped him answer that question.