The battlefield was a chaotic, sprawling expanse of destruction. The ground was torn and scarred, littered with the remnants of fallen demons and shattered weapons.
Smoke rose in thick, dark columns from burning debris, casting an eerie haze over the area. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of blood, burnt flesh, and the metallic tang of magic.
The cries of the wounded and the roars of demons echoed in the distance. Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a small pocket of calm—a clearing where Keiran and his companions stood, surrounded by the bodies of demons they had defeated.
Keiran stood at the center of this clearing, his posture relaxed, almost unnervingly so. His dark hair was tousled, and his clothes were stained with dirt and blood, but his expression was one of quiet focus.
Around him, colorful runes floated in the air, their ethereal glow casting soft light on his face. The runes twisted and danced, their shapes shifting as if alive, weaving together in intricate patterns only Keiran could decipher.
Each rune pulsed with energy, their colors shifting from deep blues to vibrant golds and finally to a dull, metallic gray. The air around him seemed to hum with power, a subtle vibration that made the hairs on the back of Felicia's neck stand on end.
Felicia, her armor battered and her face streaked with sweat and grime, approached Keiran cautiously.
Her sword hung loosely in her hand, its blade chipped and stained from the countless demons she had slain.
Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and her eyes darted between Keiran and the runes surrounding him. She had seen him do incredible things before, but this was different. This was something beyond her understanding.
"What's taking you so long?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience and exhaustion. She gestured toward the runes with her sword. "And what exactly are you doing?"
Before she could step closer, Greon moved to block her path. His golden mane was matted with sweat and dirt. His eyes, sharp and focused, locked onto Felicia's. "Lord Keiran is concentrating," he said, his deep voice calm but firm. "You shouldn't disturb him."
Felicia frowned, her frustration evident. She glanced past Greon at Keiran, who seemed entirely absorbed in his work.
The runes around him glowed brighter, their colors intensifying as they began to merge into a single, cohesive shape.
She wanted to protest, to demand answers, but something in Greon's tone stopped her. Reluctantly, she stepped back, her grip tightening on her sword as she watched the scene unfold.
The runes pulsed with a final burst of energy, their light so bright that Felicia had to shield her eyes.
When the glow faded, a new rune hovered in the air before Keiran, its form intricate and radiating power.
A voice echoed in Keiran's mind, clear and resonant, though only he could hear it.
[Congratulations! You have created an uncommon skill.]
[Ironclad Titan (Active): Temporarily transforms the user's body into living metal, significantly increasing defense and resistance to physical and magical attacks. While in this form, enemies within range suffer reduced movement speed and weakened attacks due to the intense gravitational aura emitted. Additionally, for every set amount of damage taken, the user gains an additional layer of reinforced plating, further enhancing defense and slightly reflecting a portion of incoming damage back to attackers. Mana Cost: 5.]
Keiran's lips curved into a faint smile as he read the description. He turned his attention to Agwil, who had been kneeling before him this entire time.
Agwil's eyes were filled with determination, his loyalty unwavering.
He didn't fully understand what Keiran was doing, but he trusted him completely.
Keiran raised his hand, palm facing Agwil. "Now," he said, his voice steady and commanding, "be born, my iron titan."
With a flick of his wrist, Keiran activated the Blessing of Bequeathal, transferring the newly created skill to Agwil.
The Cervitaur's body stiffened as the energy surged through him. He let out a low groan, his muscles tensing as the transformation began.
His body grew broader, more muscular, his deer-like lower half becoming larger and more powerful. His fur took on a metallic sheen, and his antlers glinted like polished steel.
The ground beneath him cracked under the weight of his new form, and the air around him seemed to ripple with the gravitational aura of the Ironclad Titan.
Agwil rolled on the ground for a few seconds, his body trembling as the transformation completed.
When it was over, he rose to his feet, his new form radiating strength and resilience. He knelt before Keiran, his voice filled with reverence. "Your Ironhart is here to serve, my lord."
Greon nodded in approval, his expression one of quiet pride.
Felicia, on the other hand, could only stare in disbelief. Her mouth hung open as she took in Agwil's new form.
She had heard of beastkin evolving, but this was something entirely different. Agwil's transformation wasn't just an evolution—it was a leap into the unknown, a path that defied all logic and reason.
Agwil's transformation defied every expectation Felicia had. His evolved form did not follow any known lineage, nor did it belong to any species she had ever encountered in books or records. It was as if the world itself had rewritten the rules just for him. The implications sent a shiver down her spine. Evolution, as she understood it, was supposed to follow a pattern—branches that connected one species to another. Yet, Agwil had become something entirely new, something that had no precedent.
Even though he was only an Uncommon entity, his evolution stood alone in its uniqueness. Most uncommon creatures still had evolutionary lines that could be traced, even if they were not widely documented. But Agwil was different. His transformation broke all conventions, making him a mystery that refused to fit into any established system.
Felicia's mind raced with possibilities. If Agwil's evolution was unprecedented, then what did that mean for everything else she thought she knew? The thought was unsettling, yet exhilarating. And then, just as she was grappling with that revelation, she remembered Greon.
Greon, a Lionkin, had also undergone an evolution that did not conform to any known classification. Lionkin had well-documented growth paths, each with defined traits and abilities, yet Greon's transformation deviated from all of them. His new form carried characteristics that no historical record had ever mentioned.
Felicia's heart pounded as she connected the dots. This was not an isolated case. Both Agwil and Greon had transformed into something beyond the known boundaries of their species. That realization sent her thoughts spiraling in directions she had never considered before.
How was this possible? Evolution was supposed to be bound by natural laws, by a set of rules that dictated the paths a species could take. But if two individuals had already broken those rules, then what was stopping others from doing the same?
A deep uncertainty settled in her chest. If the logic of the world could be defied so easily, then how much of what she believed was truly reliable? What else had she assumed to be an unshakable fact, only for it to be nothing more than a fragile illusion?
"What… what just happened?" Felicia stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "How is this possible? Who are you really?"
Keiran turned to her, his expression as calm as ever. "I am Keiran Graywood," he said simply. "The ruler of the new nation of Casimiro. I am a hero."
The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning. A hero. Felicia had heard stories of heroes, of legendary figures who wielded unimaginable power and shaped the course of history.
But those were just stories, tales told to children to inspire them. Heroes weren't supposed to be real.
And yet, here Keiran stood, his presence undeniable, his power beyond comprehension. The runes, the transformations, the way he commanded the battlefield—it all pointed to something greater, something beyond the realm of ordinary men.
Before Felicia could process what she had just heard, a new threat emerged. Demons descended from the sky, their wings blotting out the sun as they charged toward the group.
There were dozens of them, their eyes glowing with malice, their swords readied. They moved with unnatural speed, their screeches piercing the air as they closed in.
But they never reached their target.
Greon moved like a blur, his powerful form a whirlwind of motion. He unleashed a barrage of punches, each strike creating a shockwave that rippled through the air.
The ground shook, cracks spreading outward as the demons were obliterated in an instant. When the dust settled, Greon stood alone, his fists still clenched, his breathing steady. His golden mane shimmered in the sunlight, and his eyes glowed with a fierce intensity.
Keiran's voice broke the silence. "Evacuate as many citizens as possible," he ordered. "Do not hold back. Destroy all demons."
Agwil, now fully transformed into the Ironclad Titan, charged forward without hesitation. His metallic body gleamed in the sunlight as he plowed through the demon horde, his sheer strength and durability making him an unstoppable force.
Demons were flung aside like ragdolls, their attacks useless against his reinforced plating. Each step he took sent tremors through the ground, and the gravitational aura around him slowed the movements of nearby enemies, rendering them easy targets for his powerful strikes.
Felicia watched in awe, her mind struggling to keep up with everything that was happening. She turned to Keiran, her voice trembling. "A hero… exists?"
Keiran met her gaze, his eyes empty of emotion. "Let's save the Harheim tribe," he said simply, as if the answer to her question was self-evident.