Forgemind: I Can Create Any Skill

Morning sunlight broke through the clouded sky in shafts of pale gold.

Auther stood once more at the southern border of Ashveil, overlooking the weed-choked ruins he'd bled in the day before. His arm was stiff, but the Lesser Flesh Knitting had done its job well enough. Overnight, the dull ache in his thigh had faded, and he'd slept a few good hours for the first time in weeks.

Today, he wouldn't just test his body. He would test his potential.

He wasn't reckless — he wouldn't charge into the wild hoping for miracles.

But he needed skill points. And not just for power — for control.

[Name: Auther Finn]

[Rank: F1]

[Ability: Skill Creation (Unique)]

[Skills:]

Silent Star Breathing (F5)

Mana Edge (F3)

Fighting Mastery (F3)

Lesser Flesh Knitting (F4)

[Skill Points: 40]

He opened the Skill Creation menu again, squatting beneath a broken wall as birds cried overhead.

Today's objective: survivability.

He wanted a passive physical enhancement — something subtle. Something that could make him react faster, strike harder, maybe even dodge by instinct. He couldn't afford to brute-force his way through fights.

His fingers hovered in the air as he began writing the description.

Attempt #1

Skill Name: Superhuman Reflexes

Description: "Allows user to react to all visual, auditory, and kinetic threats in real-time. Grants enhanced speed, instinctive movement prediction, and momentary time dilation."

[Rank: A – Cost: 1,200 Points]

Auther winced. "Too greedy again."

He erased lines and simplified the core idea.

Attempt #3

Skill Name: Reflex Boost (F4)

Description: "Improves reaction speed and movement fluidity slightly. Grows stronger with usage and experience."

[Cost: 12 Points]

Perfect.

He hit Confirm.

[Skill Created: Reflex Boost (F4)]

[Remaining Skill Points: 28]

A tingling sensation ran down his spine and legs — like a jolt of cold water splashed over his nerves. His heartbeat slowed a little, breath falling into rhythm with it.

He tried a few quick jabs and dodges, shadowboxing the air.

Faster. Not drastic, but noticeable. Enough to give him an edge.

"I'll take it."

He slipped between rusted pillars and into the deeper wilds, scanning the shadows for movement. Birds scattered above the trees. Distant howls echoed in the morning wind.

Every step was calculated.

Every sound, a potential threat.

It wasn't long before he spotted one.

Near a collapsed shack at the edge of the sunken road, something scuttled over the debris. It was shaped like a dog — only far too large. Its flesh bulged unnaturally, and a crooked, tumor-like growth pulsed from its spine.

A Feral Mutant Beast. Bigger than yesterday's hound.

And something was wrong with its eyes.

They were… glowing red. Not green like before.

Auther crouched low behind a chunk of fallen wall and activated Silent Star Breathing.

Mana seeped in with his breath. Slow. Focused.

He analyzed the creature's gait, the way its claws scratched grooves into the stone, the rhythm of its steps. Its rank — F2, judging by the intensity of the mana around it.

A real challenge.

Exactly what he needed.

His grip tightened, Mana Edge humming to life in his right hand. He circled wide through the ruins to catch it from the side.

The mutant paused. Sniffed. Then snapped its head toward his position.

Crap.

It roared — not a bark, but a screech, like tearing metal — and charged.

Auther didn't wait.

He dashed out, breathing in deeply.

Reflex Boost kicked in, making the world slow by fractions. He twisted his body just before impact and sliced along the beast's flank with Mana Edge.

Blood splattered. The beast screamed.

But its momentum wasn't stopped. Its bulk slammed into him, sending him tumbling through a pile of rotting crates.

Pain bloomed in his shoulder.

He rolled and forced himself to his feet, eyes narrowing.

The beast was faster than the last one. Smarter too.

It circled him now, low and wary.

He flexed his fingers, Mana Edge sparking again.

Fighting Mastery helped. His stance adjusted. He shifted weight to his back foot, using debris to block angles.

The beast lunged.

He ducked, swept its front leg with a low kick, and drove his palm up toward its gut — but the mutant twisted unnaturally in midair, kicking him in the chest with an elongated back leg.

Ribs crunched.

He crashed into stone and spat blood.

"Shit—"

The hound pounced.

Auther threw up his arm just in time — Mana Edge flaring — and blocked the bite. The energy repelled the jaws slightly, saving him from a full crush, but his forearm screamed in agony.

He needed to finish this.

Now.

He slid under the beast's lunging body, slashing at its exposed underbelly.

The blade of mana cut deep — not fatal, but enough to stagger it.

It howled and stumbled.

He didn't give it space.

He leapt onto its back, braced himself against its thrashing weight, and drove his glowing hand straight into the base of its skull.

With a cry of pain and fury, he forced every drop of mana into the blow.

Mana Edge – Full Output!

A flash of light. A crack like splitting wood.

The beast fell limp.

Auther collapsed beside it, vision blurring.

[Mutant Beast (Rank F2) Defeated]

[Skill Points Gained: +20]

[Bonus: Higher Rank Kill – +10 Bonus Points]

[Total Points Gained: +30]

He wheezed through a split lip and opened the system window with shaking fingers.

[Name: Auther Finn]

[Rank: F1]

[Skill Points: 58]

He smiled through the blood.

He had won. Again.

Barely.

But he could feel it now — the patterns, the spacing, the right amount of energy to use in each swing. Fighting Mastery was learning with him. He was improving.

And so was his understanding of the system.

Before he even stood, he reached into the beast's chest. There, nestled inside warped ribs, pulsed a faint orange mana core — larger than yesterday's.

He absorbed it.

Warmth coursed through him. His body, battered and bruised, began to feel just a bit lighter.

Silent Star Breathing drew in more ambient mana, refining his inner core.

His control deepened.

The system didn't say anything.

It never praised. Never encouraged.

It was cold. A recorder. A reflection.

Everything he became would be because he earned it.

And he was fine with that.

As he limped back toward the city outskirts, the ruins behind him glowing faintly under the late sun, Auther made a silent vow:

He would return tomorrow.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

Until no beast here could challenge him.

Until no one in Ashveil could ignore him.

Until he had skill points to create a storm, and strength to change his fate.