The Ultimate Skill System: Absorb, Upgrade, Create, Transfer-Chapter 44 - : Bringer of Peace

The village that Keiran now led had grown far beyond its humble beginnings. What was once a small, struggling settlement had transformed into a thriving community, bustling with life and activity.

The air was filled with the sounds of hammers striking wood, the chatter of villagers, and the occasional howl of wolves being trained for transportation.

The unity between the Lionkin and Cervitaurs, once divided by their differences, was now a living testament to Keiran's leadership. Their shared efforts had turned the village into a place of prosperity and hope.

The buildings that lined the cobblestone streets were sturdy and well-constructed, a far cry from the flimsy huts and tents of the past.

Strong timber frames supported walls made of cobblestones, giving the structures a sense of permanence and strength. The roofs were layered with tightly woven thatch, designed to withstand the harshest weather.

Smoke curled from chimneys, carrying the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat. The village had become a place of comfort and security, a haven for those who had once known only hardship.

The roads, once dirt paths that turned to mud during the rainy season, were now paved with smooth cobblestones. They stretched through the village like veins, connecting every corner and making travel easier for both the villagers and their new mode of transportation: wolves.

These majestic creatures, once wild and untamed, had been carefully trained to pull carriages. Their powerful bodies moved with grace, their fur glistening in the sunlight as they trotted along the cobblestone paths. The sight of a wolf-drawn carriage had become a common one, a symbol of the village's progress and ingenuity.

At the heart of the village stood the stronghold, the largest and most impressive building of all. Its towering walls were made of stone, their surfaces smooth and unyielding.

The stronghold was a place of both strength and beauty, its windows framed by intricate carvings of lions and deer, symbolizing the unity of the Lionkin and Cervitaurs.

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Inside, the meeting hall was a spacious room filled with natural light. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden table and the chairs arranged around it. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of the village's history, each thread woven with care and pride.

Keiran sat by the window, his posture relaxed but his expression thoughtful. The sunlight bathed his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his features and the calm determination in his eyes.

Behind him stood Greon, his loyal guard and confidant. His broad shoulders and watchful gaze made him a formidable figure, but his occasional smiles revealed a softer side, especially when it came to his younger sister, Leina.

Around the room stood Pio, Agwil, and Ihalot, each of them playing a crucial role in the village's development. Pio, with his keen mind and diplomatic skills, was often the voice of reason during discussions.

Agwil, a Cervitaur with a gentle demeanor, stood comfortably despite his deer-like lower body. His antlers, polished to a shine, reflected the sunlight as he shifted his weight from one hoof to the other.

Ihalot, once an old man with white hair, now stood tall and strong. His long red hair was tied back neatly, and his muscular frame exuded confidence and strength.

At the front of the room stood Leina, her hands on her hips and a proud smile on her face. She had just finished presenting her latest creation: a banner that would represent their village. The banner was a beautiful shade of blue, the color of the sky on a clear day. In the center were two towering mountains, their peaks reaching toward the heavens.

Between them rose a radiant sun, its golden crown glowing as if it were alive. The design was simple yet striking, a perfect representation of the village's unity and aspirations. Leina had worked tirelessly to bring Keiran's vision to life, and the result was nothing short of stunning.

"And that's how I managed to finish this masterpiece in time," Leina said, her voice filled with pride. She stood tall, her chest puffed out and her smile wide. Her hands rested on her hips, a pose that exuded confidence and satisfaction.

Agwil clapped his hands together, his eyes wide with admiration. "Wow," he said, his voice filled with genuine awe. His hooves tapped lightly against the floor as he shifted his weight, his excitement evident in every movement.

Leina closed her eyes, sticking out her chest even more and smiling even more smugly. She was clearly pleased with the reaction her work had received, and she wasn't afraid to show it.

Pio, ever the diplomat, turned to Keiran and asked, "What do you think of Leina's design for our banner, my lord?"

Keiran's gaze shifted to the banner, his face unreadable. The room fell silent as everyone waited for his response. After a moment, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Better than I imagined."

Leina couldn't contain her excitement. She jumped in joy, her smile lighting up the room. Her hands flew into the air, and she let out a small laugh, the sound echoing off the walls.

Greon, standing behind Keiran, clenched his fist and whispered, "Yes!"

But as soon as he realized everyone was looking at him, he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, trying to appear serious once more.

Despite his attempt to hide it, it was clear that he was proud of his little sister's accomplishment. His eyes softened as he glanced at her, a rare moment of vulnerability from the usually stoic guard.

Ihalot, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat and brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Anyway, my lord," he began, his deep voice filling the room, "have you already thought about the name of our... settlement? Village? I don't even know what kind of gathering this is that we have."

Keiran stood up, his presence commanding the room. He walked over to the banner and gently touched it with his fingers, as if absorbing the beauty of the design. The fabric was smooth under his touch, the threads woven with care and precision. He traced the outline of the sun, his expression thoughtful.

"A nation," he said simply.

The room fell silent once more, the weight of his words sinking in. Everyone looked at Keiran with surprise, their eyes wide with curiosity and anticipation. The idea of their village becoming a nation was both thrilling and daunting, a step into uncharted territory.

"Casimiro," Keiran continued, his voice steady and confident. The name rolled off his tongue with ease, as if it had always been meant for them.

Pio tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion. "My lord?" he asked, seeking clarification.

Keiran turned to face the room, his gaze sweeping over each of them. "Back where I came from, Casimiro means 'bringer of peace,'" he explained. His voice was calm but filled with conviction, each word carrying the weight of his vision. "We will be called the Nation of Casimiro. By proclaiming ourselves as a nation, we can hold a title that allows us to form alliances with other nations. It will give us the recognition and authority we need to grow and thrive."

Ihalot nodded, a smile spreading across his face. His red hair caught the sunlight as he moved, the strands shimmering like fire. "That allows you to have a wider reach and authority without conquest," he said, understanding the strategic implications of Keiran's plan. His voice was filled with admiration, his respect for Keiran evident in every word.

Greon, unable to contain his admiration, added, "As expected of our ruler." His voice was deep and resonant, filled with pride. He stood a little taller, his chest puffing out as he spoke.

Keiran's expression remained calm, but there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "Although it can't be called official until other nations acknowledge us, I believe it's a good start," he said. His words were measured, each one carefully chosen to convey his confidence and resolve.

Leina, ever curious, raised a hand and asked, "What if they don't acknowledge us?" Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her brow furrowed as she waited for his response.

Keiran's response was simple yet filled with unwavering confidence. "They will."

His words were not a threat or a boast; they were a statement of fact. Keiran had already thought through every detail, every possible outcome. He had a plan, and he was confident in its success. The only thing left was to execute it.