The Ultimate Skill System: Absorb, Upgrade, Create, Transfer-Chapter 47 - : A Girl with a Big Sword

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop at the gates of the Harheim tribe, its wheels crunching softly against the gravel path.

Before them stood a sight that commanded both respect and caution. The gates were immense, carved seamlessly into the side of a mountain that loomed like a silent guardian over the tribe.

The walls, thick and towering, were made of stone that had been weathered by centuries of wind and rain, yet they stood unyielding.

At the top of the wall, massive spikes jutted outward, their sharp tips glinting in the noon sun like the teeth of some ancient beast. It was a clear warning to any who might dare to challenge the tribe's boundaries.

Keiran stepped out of the carriage, his boots landing softly on the packed earth. The warmth of the sun touched his skin, a welcome sensation after the cool shade of the carriage interior.

He stretched slightly, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from the long journey.

Behind him, Greon and Agwil emerged.

The air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth, mingled with the subtle aroma of wildflowers that grew along the base of the wall.

Keiran took a deep breath, savoring the crispness of it. The Harheim tribe was unlike any place he had seen before. The walls seemed to stretch endlessly, blending into the mountain itself as if nature and craftsmanship had come together to create this fortress. It was both awe-inspiring and intimidating.

As they stood there, a group of Harengon guards approached. Their movements were quick and precise, their long rabbit ears twitching as they observed the newcomers.

Keiran couldn't help but notice how their ears moved independently, scanning the surroundings, always alert.

The guards were dressed in light armor, their chest plates polished to a dull shine, and their weapons—short swords and spears—were strapped to their sides. Their expressions were more curious than hostile, though their eyes remained sharp and watchful.

Keiran bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Good day," he said, his voice calm and respectful.

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One of the guards, a tall Harengon with a scar running down his left ear, returned the bow. His ears flicked forward as he spoke. "A human, a Lionkin, and a Cervitaur," he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement. "What an unusual combination you have."

Another guard stepped forward, his ears perking up as he spoke. He was younger, his fur a lighter shade of brown, and his eyes held a glint of curiosity. "What is your purpose for coming to the tribe of Harheim?"

Keiran gestured toward the back of the carriage. "We are here to trade," he explained, opening the compartment to reveal bundles of monster leathers neatly stacked inside.

The hides were well-prepared, their surfaces smooth and durable. Some were dark and matte, while others had a faint sheen, each one unique in its texture and color.

The guards exchanged glances, then began a brief inspection. They asked a few questions—where they had come from, how long they planned to stay, and whether they had any weapons beyond what was visible.

Keiran answered honestly, his tone steady and cooperative. After a few minutes, the guards seemed satisfied.

"You may enter," the scarred Harengon said, stepping aside. "But remember, tourists are only allowed within the third wall. The second and first walls are restricted to Harengons only."

Keiran nodded in understanding. "Thank you."

As the gates creaked open, the trio made their way inside. The third wall was impressive in its own right, but Keiran couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond the second and first walls.

The streets here were wide and well-maintained, lined with shops and stalls that bustled with activity.

The buildings were constructed from the same stone as the walls, their roofs sloping gently and adorned with intricate carvings of animals and symbols.

Lanterns hung from poles, their glass panels painted with delicate patterns that would glow warmly once night fell.

Greon seemed to read Keiran's thoughts. "Although the area behind the third wall is massive," Greon said, his deep voice carrying a note of admiration, "the areas behind the first and second walls are much wider."

Agwil tilted his head, his antlers catching the sunlight. "They can guard all of this area, huh?"

Greon chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "When it comes to numbers, nothing beats the Harengons. They reproduce quickly. I wouldn't be surprised if they build a fourth or fifth wall in a few years just to house their growing population."

The third wall was a lively place, filled with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional clang of metal from a blacksmith's forge.

Harengons of all ages moved about, their ears bobbing as they went about their daily lives.

Children darted between stalls, their laughter ringing out, while merchants called out to potential customers, showcasing their wares.

The air was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and the earthy aroma of herbs and spices.

Keiran, Greon, and Agwil spent the next few hours selling their goods. The monster leathers were in high demand, and they managed to secure a decent amount of coin for their efforts.

The merchants they dealt with were friendly, though shrewd, and the bargaining was lively but fair. By the time they were done, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden light over the tribe.

With their pockets a little heavier, they decided to find a place to rest. The inn they chose was cozy, with a warm atmosphere and friendly staff. The common room was filled with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of mugs, and the scent of hearty stew wafted from the kitchen.

They booked a large room with three beds, and after a quick meal, Greon and Agwil quickly succumbed to exhaustion, their snores filling the room.

Keiran, however, wasn't ready to sleep just yet. The day's events had left him restless, and he decided to explore the area.

As he wandered the streets, the lanterns began to glow, casting a soft, golden light that danced across the cobblestones. The tribe was peaceful, yes, but there was an undercurrent of tension, a quiet readiness that hinted at the war looming on the horizon.

The Harengons were preparing for battle, yet life here seemed to go on as usual. It was a strange contrast, one that left Keiran deep in thought.

His footsteps led him to a fountain at the center of a small square. The water sparkled under the moonlight, its gentle burble a soothing sound.

The fountain was carved in the shape of a hare, its ears reaching toward the sky, and water cascaded from its paws into the basin below. Keiran sat on the edge of the fountain, letting the cool mist brush against his face.

But before he could fully appreciate the scene, his attention was drawn to a commotion nearby.

A crowd had gathered at the corner of the street, their cheers and shouts filling the air. Curious, Keiran made his way over, weaving through the throng of onlookers.

In the center of the crowd, a battle was underway. A minotaur, towering and muscular, wielded a war axe with practiced ease.

His opponent was much smaller—a slender figure cloaked in shadows, her movements swift and precise. Her black bunny ears poked out from her hood, the only clue to her identity.

[Common: Minotaur — Level 16.]

The minotaur growled, his voice rough and menacing. "You should have stayed home, little girl. The third wall is dangerous for you. I'm going to be kicked out anyway, so I might as well destroy you!"

With a roar, he charged, his axe swinging in a wide arc. But the Harengon was ready.

She sidestepped with ease, her movements almost too fast to follow. In one fluid motion, she delivered a powerful kick to the minotaur's neck, followed by a swift strike from the flat side of her great sword.

The minotaur crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

[Common: Harengon — Level 14.]

The crowd erupted in cheers as the Harengon knelt beside the fallen minotaur. She reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, which she handed to a child standing at the edge of the crowd.

It was then that Keiran realized what had happened—the minotaur had stolen the child's coins, and the Harengon had intervened to set things right.

As the guards arrived to deal with the minotaur, the Harengon woman melted into the crowd, her cloak blending with the shadows.

Keiran's eyes followed her, a sense of intrigue stirring within him. There was something about her—something that made him want to know more.