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Forgemind: I Can Create Any Skill

badar_ch
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Synopsis
“In a world where power is forged, not gifted, Auther Finn awakens with the rarest ability of all — the power to create skills.” One year after mysteriously arriving in a parallel Earth teeming with monsters, mana, and Gates, Auther finally Awakens. While others rely on inherited skill books or dangerous trial-and-error to grow stronger, he has something else: Skill Creation. Every skill. Every technique. Every path of power — his to shape. But power has a cost. And in a world ruled by ruthless Awakeners, ancient civilizations, and legendary monsters, forging your own destiny is the most dangerous road of all. As his abilities grow, so do the enemies watching from the shadows. And somewhere far beyond the stars… others are watching too. This is the story of a forgemind. A creator. A warrior. And the boy who would become legend
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 33 – Strength in Numbers

The campfire burned low.

Auther sat with his back to a crooked stone, sharpening his blade. Beside him, Elira practiced footwork drills under the pale dawn sky. Her balance had improved. Mana now responded to her calls, if weakly, as the remnants of her suppression faded day by day.

Further off, Lyra crouched under a tree, ears twitching as she tracked a mutant hare in the distance. Silent. Patient. Deadly.

She pounced.

The blade he'd given her flashed in the morning light, and the hare collapsed with barely a squeak.

Auther nodded to himself.

They were getting better.

Not strong yet — not by a long shot — but adaptable, fast-learning, and dependable.

He didn't need to watch over them every second now.

That was new.

And useful.

He leaned back, fingers drumming against his scabbard.

For most of his year in this world, he'd been alone. Not just in battle — in everything. Training. Eating. Thinking. Killing.

It was easier that way. Cleaner.

People made things messy. You could never fully predict what they'd do — if they'd betray you, slow you down, or die when you needed them most.

But now…

He glanced at Elira. She was panting but still pushing herself. Lyra was already skinning the hare and setting it aside for roasting.

They'd been with him for less than a week, and already, things were easier.

Quieter.

Faster.

He could focus on bigger things while they handled smaller tasks.

Not just tools.

> "They're... becoming reliable."

And that thought — that flicker of genuine trust — made him pause.

> "Maybe it's time."

He stood up.

"Elira. Lyra."

Both turned to him immediately.

"I'm heading into the city. You two stay here and train. No wandering. If anything approaches the camp, use the flares I left. Don't engage unless you have to."

They nodded. No hesitation.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, double-checked his coin pouch — and walked toward the narrow road that led to the outskirts of the city.

---

New Lumen, the outer sprawl of Dawnspire City, was a fortress wrapped in stone and desperation.

Tall, rune-etched walls guarded the inner sanctum — where the nobles, major guilds, and powerful merchants lived. The outer districts, where lesser Awakeners and travelers stayed, were a mesh of broken buildings, smoke-stained walls, and half-repaired cobbled roads.

Auther kept his cloak up, hood drawn low.

He wasn't wanted. Not yet. But it never hurt to avoid attention.

He moved through the market street, past potion stalls, monster hide merchants, dungeon cartographers, and desperate adventurers hawking cracked gear.

Then he reached the Slave Exchange Hall.

A stone building reinforced with iron, mana seals, and silent guards. Inside, soft music played — an odd contrast to the coldness of the place.

Rows of cages lined the walls. Most were empty.

But a few still held captives.

Elves with clipped ears. Beastkin with scorched tails. A few mutated hybrids deemed too dangerous to free.

And at the far end — in a reinforced mana cage — stood a girl.

Not hunched. Not slumped.

Standing.

Tall. Proud.

Red eyes glowed faintly beneath a curtain of black hair. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and even through the grimy glass, Auther could sense it:

Power. Dormant. Controlled. But very real.

She was a vampire.

A true-blooded one, if the markings on her collar were right. The rune etched into her collar indicated martial conditioning — this one had been trained to fight before her capture.

He turned to the clerk.

"How much?"

The man — a weasely merchant with mana-inscribed glasses — glanced at the cage and raised a brow.

"Ah, you've got a good eye. That one's been here for two months. Violent. Broke two handlers' arms. Kept in stasis most of the time. We're selling her cheap now — before she becomes too much of a liability."

Auther narrowed his eyes. "Price."

"Eighty gold."

He didn't flinch. "Forty."

The clerk laughed nervously. "She's worth three times that!"

"But you just said she was a liability."

The man opened his mouth. Closed it.

"…Sixty-five."

"Forty-five. Final."

A pause.

Then a resigned sigh. "Done. You sign, she's yours. No returns."

"Wasn't planning on it."

---

Ten minutes later, he stood outside with her.

The collar was still on, but powered down. A small explosive rune sat at the base of her neck, but he could disarm that later.

She said nothing.

Just stared at him.

Her eyes were intelligent — sharper than Elira's when they met. She was aware. Focused. Watching.

Auther handed her a canteen.

She didn't drink. Just held it.

"Do you have a name?" he asked.

No answer.

He tried again. "I'm Auther Finn."

Still nothing.

Then she finally spoke, voice low and cold. "If you're going to kill me, do it. I won't beg."

He blinked. "Why would I kill you?"

"Because you look like someone who doesn't waste time."

"…I'm not here to waste you. I bought you to join my group."

She laughed. It was bitter.

"I'm a prisoner. A tool. You don't need to lie."

"I don't lie," he said flatly. "You'll earn your freedom. Not through submission. Through strength."

That made her pause.

He continued, "I don't need weak followers. I need warriors. People I can rely on. You want freedom? Prove you can fight for it."

A long silence.

Then she nodded once. "Then I'll earn it."

He met her gaze. "Your name?"

"…Veyra."

"Good. Let's go."

---

Back at camp, Elira and Lyra paused as the two approached.

Elira's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing. Lyra narrowed her gaze, her tail flicking once, but didn't object.

Auther introduced them with few words. "This is Veyra. She'll be staying with us."

The vampire didn't speak, merely took a seat near the fire and closed her eyes.

Auther turned to Elira and Lyra. "She's trained. Once she recovers, we'll begin drills. Until then, keep improving. We leave for the southern ridge in three days — mutant packs have been nesting there."

They nodded.

As the sun set and the fire crackled, Auther watched the three girls — so different, so broken in their own ways — and realized something.

They weren't just tools.

They weren't even just allies.

They were people who had suffered like him.

People who had survived.

And if he trained them well… if he pushed them to rise…

They could become something more.

A real team.

A force that could grow with him.

Challenge this world with him.

> "I've done well alone," he thought. "But if I want to go further… to rise beyond just surviving… I need more."

Not just raw strength.

Strategy. Coordination. Trust.

> "I'll build that. From the ground up."

One ally at a time.