Forgemind: I Can Create Any Skill

Auther sat atop the slanted roof of a collapsed pharmacy, legs crossed, spine straight, eyes closed.

The sun hung low in the ash-colored sky, casting long shadows through the skeletons of buildings.

His breathing slowed. One breath every five seconds. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.

Two days had passed since he acquired Heavenvein Refinement.

He had practiced the technique over a dozen cycles now, and the difference was subtle—but real.

Mana moved through his circuits like silk through a loom. Smoother. More controlled. There were fewer blockages, fewer sparks of instability. His body didn't just contain mana anymore—it accepted it.

He opened his eyes, the glow fading from his irises.

A soft breeze brushed his face. Somewhere in the distance, a mutant shrieked, but it sounded smaller now. Quieter.

Not because it had changed.

But because he had.

He checked his system.

---

[Status Screen]

Name: Auther Finn

Race: Human

Rank: E1

Ability: Skill Creation (Unique)

Skills:

Fighting Mastery (F6)

Mana Edge (F5)

Burst Step (F5)

Phantom Echo (F4)

Lesser Flesh Knitting (F5)

Energy Activation (F6)

Starwave Breathing (F8)

Internal Fortification (F3)

Neural Reinforcement (F3)

Disrupting Pulse (F4)

Pulse Thread (F3)

Mana Flow Optimization (F3)

Heavenvein Refinement (E9)

Skill Points: 5

---

Still not enough SP for anything major.

But soon.

His last hunt had yielded fewer high-ranked targets than expected. He'd avoided unnecessary fights, focusing instead on recovery and building his internal foundation.

He could feel his circuits expanding. His core becoming denser. It wouldn't be long before he reached E2.

He stood and stretched.

Bones cracked, muscles flexed. The air felt lighter in his lungs.

He grabbed his blade and leapt from the roof, landing silently in the cracked street below.

It was time to scout again.

He had spent the last day tracking mana fluctuations through the city ruins, searching for unusual pressure pockets—the kind that only appeared when a dungeon was trying to form.

Most people never felt them.

But he wasn't most people.

He could sense them now.

Because Heavenvein had made him more than just a fighter.

It made him a cultivator.

And with each breath, he understood the world more intimately.

He passed collapsed skyscrapers and hollowed-out vehicles, checking his crude mana compass every few blocks.

The needle pulsed erratically, like a heartbeat.

The closer he got to the western ruins, the stronger the pull.

Then—finally—it happened.

He stopped at the edge of an old subway entrance, its staircase choked with vines and debris.

The compass spun wildly.

His skin tingled with static mana.

He crouched, touched the cracked concrete, and pushed a thread of energy through it.

There was no doubt.

Something was forming down there.

He smiled.

A mini-gate.

Not a fully formed dungeon, no.

But a proto-dungeon—a knot of unstable mana that could grow into one if left alone long enough.

And if he was lucky…

It might already be producing lesser monsters, crystals, and even the beginnings of natural loot generation.

He pulled out a chalk piece and drew a small glyph near the entrance.

A symbol for memory—a note to himself.

He wasn't ready to dive in just yet.

First, he needed to prepare.

A mini-gate wasn't as dangerous as a full dungeon, but it was unpredictable. The energy inside would fluctuate violently. Gravity could shift. Time distortion wasn't unheard of. Worse, mutated flora sometimes grew near the core and released poisonous spores.

He returned to his vault that night and sat in front of the fire.

The crystal he'd looted earlier still sat inside a runic container, waiting to be absorbed.

He didn't want to waste it on E1.

Better to hit E2 first, then use it to reinforce the jump to E3 later.

He opened Skill Creation again.

> Name: Adaptive Physiology

Description: "A passive enhancement that accelerates recovery after exposure to abnormal environments. Increases resistance to spatial distortion, mana toxicity, and pressure changes inside gates."

Rank: F5

Cost: 18 SP

Too expensive.

But good.

He saved the design and moved on.

> Name: Gate Sense

Description: "Allows the user to detect faint mana distortions associated with gate formations within a 300-meter radius. Sensitivity increases slightly with rank."

Rank: F3

Cost: 11 SP

Still too expensive.

He didn't have enough for either.

But the seed of an idea was planted.

If this mini-gate turned out fruitful, he'd get what he needed.

He ate a cold ration, drank from the water purifier, and turned in early.

The next day, he returned.

This time, better prepared.

He wore a reinforced jacket over his light armor—scrap-fused plates lined with mana threads. He had strapped extra cores, two crystal-tipped daggers, and mana bandages to his belt. Not ideal, but it was the best gear he had.

He descended the subway steps slowly.

The air changed by the fourth step.

He could feel it.

Heavier.

Thicker.

The smell of mana. Like lightning trapped in stone.

He activated Energy Activation.

Thin threads of energy danced between his fingers, lighting the way. He passed shattered turnstiles and dusty benches. Rats scurried in the corners—but not normal ones.

Their eyes glowed faint green.

Mutated vermin.

E1 at best.

He killed three silently with dagger throws.

Their cores were too weak to harvest, but every bit of combat mattered. His instincts needed sharpening.

At the end of the tunnel, a metal gate lay twisted inward—as if something had torn its way through.

He stepped through.

The temperature dropped instantly.

He entered a massive underground station, now completely overgrown with mana-infused fungus.

The spores pulsed with faint light—blue, violet, even crimson in some places.

This was it.

The proto-core was somewhere below.

He took a careful step forward—and the fungus shifted.

Not naturally.

It moved.

Dozens of small shapes erupted from the ground—fungal beasts. Twisted rat-like things with pulsing sacks of mana on their backs.

Their eyes glowed red.

And they swarmed.

Auther activated Burst Step, blinked backward, and flung a mana dart toward the densest cluster.

Disrupting Pulse followed, frying three instantly.

The others skittered and adjusted.

Smart enough to regroup.

He drew Mana Edge and cut through the first wave, weaving through bodies with practiced precision.

The mutated rats tried to blind him with burst spores, but Neural Reinforcement helped him anticipate their moves.

He killed seven in under a minute.

But more came.

Dozens.

He backed against a rusted train car and forced his breathing steady.

His blade pulsed with mana.

The ground cracked beneath him.

The pressure from the mini-gate was increasing.

He could feel the core trying to stabilize—drawn by the bodies, the mana, the tension.

And then—

He saw it.

A spiral of light forming at the far end of the chamber. A distortion in space.

The gate was about to fully awaken.

He had a choice.

Back off now.

Or push forward and be the first to enter.

He smiled grimly.

Then charged forward.