I stood over the corpse, Gravefang still humming with residual void energy, a soft vibration running up my arm like the aftershock of a storm. Smoke rose from the split in Marcus’s neck. The sll of charred fabric and scorched blood lingered in the air.
I exhaled, slow and steady, letting the silence settle.
Ding!
The system windows appeared one after another, stacking in rapid succession.
[You have slain one of Drugar’s Chosen]
[You have slain one of Drugar’s Chosen]
Double confirmation.
The chosen whose na i hadn’t bothered to check and now Marcus.
[You have leveled up!]
[You have leveled up!]
A grin tugged at my lips.
[You have received 1 to all base stats]
[You have received 6 stat points]
[You have received 200 skill advancent points]
[You have received 500 skill advancent points]
Seven hundred skill points. That alone was a massive gain.
But then the final lines appeared:
[You have inherited all of the Chosen’s skills]
[You have inherited the Chosen’s kill count]
My fingers twitched slightly at my side, the weight of those words slowly sinking in.
Marcus was no small-ti mage.
He was called and Elder. And that ant his skillset wouldnt be ordinary. Whatever he had gathered in his ti... was now mine. All of it.
That was huge.
Then it hit .
I had also killed Ezekiel—another Chosen—back in the forest.
But I was too focused on returning to aid my clan to even check the rewards gotten.
Now, both his, the no-na chosen and Marcus’s legacies were bound to . Three Chosen. Three sets of power stacked on top of mine.
I chucked lightly.
And then opened my Status Window, eager to see what had changed.
[Status Window]
Na: Eli Cross
Race: Goblin
Title: Drugar’s Chosen
Class: Dinsional Sovereign
Level: 32
HP: 1546 / 1546
MP: 798 / 798
Kill Count: 15
[Stats]
Strength: 77
Stamina: 99
Agility: 60
Intelligence: 61
Perception: 56
(Available Points: 9)
[Skills]
Innate Skill: [Phase Walker (SSS)] [Finder (N)]
Class Skills: [Rift Annihilation (Active) – SSS] [Event Collapse (Active) – SSS] [Fractured Existence (Passive) – SSS] [Paradox Step (Passive) – SSS] [Sovereign’s Domain (Active) – SSS] [Dinsional Gate (Active) – SSS] [Essence Reforging (Passive)]
Passive Skills: [Analyze (N)] [Iron Fist (E)] [Roar of Intimidation (C)] [Iron Persistence (C)] [Illusion Resistance (C)] [Battle Instinct] [Unyielding Will] [Blood Resilience] [Poison Craft] [Focus]
Active Skills: [Stealth (C)] [Mana Shield (B)] [Fla Orb (C)] [Warcry (C)] [Inferno Lance (C)] [Muscle Strengthening] [Sonic Roar] [Beserker Frenzy] [Shock Pulse] [Water Piston] [Decay] [Blackfla Surge] [Soulrot Hex] [Witherfield] [Spirit Leech] [Gravebound]
Skill Advancent Point: 1200
Wow...
My mouth parted slightly as I stared at the list, eyes tracing down the seemingly endless lineup of skills.
It wasn’t just impressive—it was overwhelming.
So many new abilities, layered between the old. A mix of brute-force combat, elental control, battlefield disruption, and curse-inflicted terror. It was like I had inherited three entire fighting styles... because I had.
Each skill was a legacy—Ezekiel, Ingrid, Marcus. Three Chosen, now dust. But pieces of them lived on inside this window, neatly cataloged, waiting to be used.
Reading through all their descriptions would take ti—probably a lot of it—but that wasn’t what made grin like an idiot.
What made my pulse quicken... what truly excited ...
Was the potential for sharing.
The thought hit like a jolt of lightning, straight to the chest.
I couldn’t share my own innate skill, no. [Phase Walker] was mine alone—too deeply tied to who I was. But the skills I had inherited? The ones gained through combat, through the blood of fallen Chosen?
Those were different.
Those were transferable.
If the system still worked like I suspected, then I could bestow these abilities onto my clan—spread them among my goblins, shaping them into more than just warriors.
They wouldn’t need to be Chosen.
They wouldn’t need a mark.
I narrowed my eyes slightly as the idea solidified, sharp and full of promise.
I couldn’t stop grinning. My hands were trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer rush of possibility.
The possibilities weren’t just exciting.
They were ga-changing.
One of my goblins could possess two or more innate-tier skills—without ever being chosen.
All it would take... was my will.
And if this worked—
I wouldn’t just be building a clan.
I would be building monsters. My monsters.
A force of nature.
Not quite on my level—but still, dangerously close. Closer than anyone would expect from re goblins.
A step behind broke the mont, and I turned just as Ariel padded into view.
Her flas had dimd slightly, hovering like lazy embers around her fur, but her posture was alert—eyes sharp, tail low, pacing like a wolf that slled blood.
"I see you’ve been busy," she said, gaze flicking between the two corpses on the ground—Marcus still headless, the younger goblin a smoldering stain against the wall.
I didn’t look up from my screen.
She huffed a short breath that might’ve been amusent.
"The fodder you left wasn’t enough to keep warm."
I muttered:
"Lucky for you, there were plenty more outside."
I could feel them—clustered out the cave. Dozens of them. Maybe more.
So stronger than others. All waiting.
Lurking.
Like they thought we’d step out and walk into an ambush.
I closed the status screen with a final swipe and exhaled slowly, my hand settling once again on the hilt of Gravefang.
There’d be ti to sort through the new skills later—after I finished decimating this clan.
First things first.
I began walking, each step echoing softly against the stone floor as I made my way toward the exit of the cave Ariel following. The air ahead was brighter, thinner, carrying with it the scent of trees, steel, and the faintest hint of smoke.
I stepped out into the light.
And imdiately froze—not out of fear, but calculation.
The cave wasn’t at ground level.
It was carved partway into a mountainside, high enough to grant a sweeping view of the valley below.
From this vantage point, everything was laid bare beneath .
The first thing I noticed was the greenery—dense forest encircling a massive encampnt sprawled across the base of the mountain.
Rows upon rows of tents stretched wide, covering the land like a makeshift fortress of canvas and bone.
Fires burned in pits.
Crates and cages lined the outer ring, Goblins moving between them in organized chaos.
Hundreds.
Maybe even more.
All ard.
They filled the valley like...
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