*****
"Amon Von Lancaster, come up."
The instructor's voice rang out, clear and commanding, echoing through the vast training hall.
Amon exhaled softly, steadying himself.
He could feel the weight of dozens of eyes settling on him, their silent curiosity pressing against his skin.
He had no choice but to move.
With measured steps, he walked forward, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor.
His posture remained relaxed—almost indifferent—but inside, his mind was racing.
As he reached the center of the training grounds, he caught a glimpse of Eugene, the so-called protagonist, watching him with quiet interest.
Others murmured among themselves, sizing him up, wondering what he could do.
The instructor gave him a once-over before nodding.
"Your task is simple,"
She said, gesturing to a circular platform at the center of the hall.
"Step into the testing circle and demonstrate your combat aptitude. Show us your physical and magical capabilities. If you have a weapon, use it. If not, use whatever means necessary."
Amon's fingers twitched slightly.
"Whatever means necessary, huh?"
He had no weapon, no formal training, and—on paper—his stats were abysmal.
But that didn't mean he was entirely helpless.
He took a step into the circle, rolling his shoulders as he exhaled.
The moment he entered, the air around him shifted.
From the edge of the platform, a training golem—tall, armored, and built from reinforced metal—came to life.
Its joints clicked as it straightened, glowing runes pulsing along its limbs.
It was an opponent designed to assess skill levels, adapting its difficulty based on the participant's performance.
Amon exhaled slowly, steadying his breathing as he fixed his gaze on Eugene.
The training hall buzzed with faint murmurs from students waiting their turn, the cold stone walls amplifying every sound.
The air smelled faintly of iron and burnt mana—a testament to years of battles and tests conducted in this very place.
But Amon wasn't paying attention to any of that.
His focus was solely on the golden child of fate, the one he was desperately trying to avoid.
Eugene Beethoven.
Even without activating any skills, Eugene exuded a presence that was hard to ignore.
His composure, the way he carried himself—it was like he belonged here, as if he were the very center of the world's narrative.
And he was.
Amon knew that better than anyone.
Still, avoiding him was no longer an option.
The system was forcing him into interaction, and since he couldn't escape the protagonist's shadow, he might as well use it to his advantage.
Taking a deep breath, Amon activated his new ability.
[Skill: Ekdysis Activated]
A translucent screen flickered into existence before his eyes, glowing faintly with an ethereal blue light.
His pupils dilated slightly as rows of text appeared, neatly displaying the skills Eugene possessed.
[Abyssal Fist (Physical Type)]
[Ruler's Steps (Physical Type)]
[Fire Slash (Mana Type)]
Amon's gaze sharpened.
'Only two skills can be copied at a time…'
That meant he had to choose carefully.
Abyssal Fist was the first skill on the list, a gauntlet-based technique that amplified the force behind punches and created shockwaves.
A powerful ability—but not my style.
Amon wasn't the type to rely on raw brute strength.
He preferred speed and technique over brute-force brawling.
His eyes moved to Ruler's Steps.
'Now this… this is good.'
Ruler's Steps was a movement skill that drastically enhanced agility, reflexes, and footwork.
It was a technique Eugene used throughout the novel, allowing him to weave through enemy attacks effortlessly and reposition himself in an instant.
In a world where magic duels and high-speed combat were common, this kind of skill was priceless.
Then there was Fire Slash.
Amon smirked.
'Now, this was perfect.'
Fire Slash was a mana-based technique that allowed a weapon—any weapon—to be imbued with flames, increasing its destructive power.
In the hands of a skilled fighter, it could cut through enemies like butter, setting everything in its path ablaze.
These two skills were ideal.
One gave him mobility, the other gave him offense.
[Skill Selection Confirmed]
[Copying Ruler's Steps and Fire Slash...]
[Skill Importing...]
Amon braced himself.
[3...]
His fingers twitched.
His body instinctively tensed, knowing something was coming.
[2...]
A strange sensation crept up his spine, like ice threading through his veins, cold yet electrifying.
[1...]
Amon staggered.
His vision blurred for a split second as an intense surge of foreign knowledge rushed into his mind.
It was like thousands of tiny threads weaving into his consciousness, rewriting the way his muscles responded, the way his body moved.
His legs twitched involuntarily as if trying to act on muscle memory that wasn't even his.
His hands burned, fingers instinctively curling as the concept of Fire Slash etched itself into his nervous system.
His breath hitched.
His heart pounded against his ribs.
The knowledge of the two skills was forced into him, not through years of practice, but in an instant.
His mind struggled to catch up, his nerves tingling from the sheer influx of information.
For a moment, Amon felt disconnected from his own body—his brain racing to process the sudden mastery of techniques he had never learned before.
A sharp, splitting headache followed.
'Ghhn—!'
He gritted his teeth, pressing his fingers against his temple as a wave of pain lashed through his skull.
This wasn't like watching a video or reading about a technique.
This was knowledge that had been directly uploaded into his body, like a second-hand experience trying to merge with his own instincts.
But after a few seconds… the pain dulled.
His breathing steadied.
His body adapted.
Amon slowly straightened his posture, his muscles now subtly different, sharper, lighter.
His balance felt refined—his weight distributed in a way that allowed for seamless movement.
His fingers twitched, and he instinctively knew that if he concentrated mana into his hand right now…
He could ignite his blade in flames.
The realization made his lips curl into a small smirk.
"Interesting..."
He clenched his fists, feeling the residual hum of power lingering in his nerves.
These weren't just borrowed techniques—they were his now.
He had taken a piece of Eugene Beethoven's future greatness and made it his own.
And the best part?
Eugene hadn't even noticed.
The protagonist remained oblivious, watching the ongoing tests with a calm, focused gaze, utterly unaware that Amon had just stolen two of his signature techniques.
Amon exhaled through his nose, suppressing a chuckle.
"This system might just be the greatest cheat he could ever ask for."
*****