The Ultimate Skill System: Absorb, Upgrade, Create, Transfer-Chapter 31 - : Blessing of Bequeathal

The village of Lionkin lay under the oppressive heat of the midday sun, its golden rays casting long shadows over the dusty ground. The air was thick with tension, a palpable weight pressing down on everyone present.

The Lionkin villagers, humanoid beings with lion-like ears and tails, knelt in the dirt, their heads bowed in defeat. Many bore visible injuries—bruises, cuts, and gashes that spoke of the harsh treatment they had endured.

Their once-proud postures were now slumped, their spirits broken by the relentless cruelty of their captors.

Standing between the villagers and their oppressors was Keiran, a figure of calm amidst the chaos. His presence was unassuming, yet there was an undeniable aura of power about him.

His eyes, cold and emotionless, scanned the scene before him. The Hyenakin, hyena-like humanoids with sharp teeth and cruel grins, stood guard over the villagers, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight.

Keiran took a step forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The Hyenakin boss, a burly figure with a scar running down his face, stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

But one look from Keiran's piercing gaze was enough to freeze the Hyenakin in his tracks.

The boss hesitated, his bravado faltering under the weight of Keiran's silent authority.

Without a word, Keiran walked past him, his focus entirely on the Lionkin villagers.

Among the kneeling figures was Greon, a tall and muscular Lionkin with long golden-brown hair that fell in messy waves around his face.

His body bore the marks of recent battles—bruises on his arms, a cut above his eye, and dried blood staining his fur.

Despite his injuries, there was a fire in his eyes, a flicker of defiance that had not yet been extinguished.

He was the brother of Leina.

Keiran stopped in front of Greon, his expression unreadable.

He looked down at the wounded Lionkin and spoke in a calm, monotone voice. "Do you still want to fight for the freedom of your people?"

Greon looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and uncertainty. "I don't know if we can win," he admitted, his voice heavy with despair. "They outnumber us, and their weapons are far superior. We've already lost so much..."

Keiran's gaze did not waver. "I think you misunderstood my question. I am not asking if you can win. I am asking if you still want to fight."

The Hyenakin boss, who had been watching the exchange with a sneer, let out a loud, mocking laugh. "The Lionkin are already broken," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "They've lost their will to resist. There's no point in struggling."

Keiran ignored him, his attention fully on Greon. "Yes or no," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Greon glanced at his fellow villagers, taking in their injuries, their fear, their hopelessness. For a moment, he hesitated, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his doubts.

But then, as if remembering something deep within himself, he straightened his back and met Keiran's gaze.

He nodded firmly. "Yes. I want to fight."

Keiran gave a small nod of approval and stood up, turning to face the Hyenakin army. The soldiers laughed, their voices harsh and grating.

The boss stepped forward, his confidence restored. "You really think they stand a chance against us?" he jeered. "They're weak, beaten, and helpless. There's no way they could win."

Keiran's expression remained unchanged. He looked back at Greon and asked, "If the god Eteria, Bequeathal, were to grant you power, what is it that you desire?"

Greon's eyes widened in surprise. He searched Keiran's face for any sign of deceit but found none.

The question was genuine, and the possibility it presented was almost too much to comprehend.

After a moment of thought, Greon spoke, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "I want a power that allows me to destroy my enemies with my bare hands. To crush their bones with every punch. To bring fear to those who see what I can do."

Keiran nodded, as if this was the answer he had expected. "I see," he said quietly.

Then, without warning, he raised his hand, and the air around him seemed to shimmer with energy.

He activated Arcane Creation, a power that allowed him to craft skills tailored to the desires of those he chose.

The process was swift, almost instantaneous, and when it was complete, a new skill had been born.

[Congratulations! You have created an uncommon skill.]

[Dreadfist Barrage (Active): The user unleashes a relentless barehanded barrage, striking enemies with overwhelming force and instilling Fear that weakens their attack, defense, and reaction speed. The sheer ferocity of the assault sends out a Dreadwave, unnerving nearby enemies and reducing their morale while making them more vulnerable to crowd control. Empowered by their own dominance, the user gains Frenzied Might, increasing attack speed and strength, while allies witnessing the display are filled with Rallying Fury, boosting their offensive power and resistance to fear-based effects. Mana Cost: 5.]

Keiran turned his palm toward Greon, his expression as calm as ever. "Very well," he said. "Then, receive the Blessing of Bequeathal. I, Keiran, will make it happen."

A surge of energy flowed from Keiran's hand into Greon, transferring the newly created skill to him.

Greon's body stiffened as the power coursed through him, overwhelming his senses. He groaned, clutching his chest as he fell to the ground, his muscles twitching and his fur standing on end.

The villagers watched in stunned silence, unsure of what was happening.

Leina, who had been standing at the edge of the crowd, rushed forward, her eyes wide with fear. "What's happening to my big brother?" she cried, her voice trembling.

[Due to the skill you transferred to the entity named Greon, which was of a higher rarity than him, he was forced to undergo an evolution to adjust to the skill's power.]

Keiran glanced at Leina, his expression as emotionless as ever. "He is fine," he said simply.

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As if to prove his words, Greon's body began to change. His muscles grew more defined, his fur took on a darker, more menacing hue, and his eyes glowed with a fierce, golden light.

When he finally stood up, he was no longer the same Lionkin who had knelt in the dirt moments ago. He was stronger, faster, and radiating an aura of power that made even the Hyenakin take a step back.

"Thank you for the gift," Greon said, his voice deep and resonant. "Your act of kindness will be repaid."

[Uncommon: Dreadmane — Level 30.]

Keiran gave a small nod. "No problem."

The Hyenakin boss stared in shock, his mouth hanging open. An evolution had happened right before his eyes, something he had never thought possible.

Leina, too, was stunned, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to process what she had just witnessed.

The balance of power had shifted, and the fight for freedom was far from over.