The first was obvious:
[Cursed Regeneration].
If there was any skill I wanted every goblin to have, it was this one. The regeneration was ridiculous, and having my clan recover from injuries faster ant fewer losses, fewer delays, and fewer monts where a single mistake cost soone their life. Letting them heal like monsters was an easy decision.
Next was [Battle Instinct].
Perception and reflexes were universal. It didn't matter if the goblin was a frontline fighter, a scout, or even one of the workers who barely picked up a weapon. Danger was danger, and anything that helped them react before sothing tore them apart was a must. This wasn't about making them elite warriors; it was about survival.
And last, but definitely not least, [Unyielding Will (C)].
ntal defense was sothing I had brushed aside too casually before eting Zivra.
After feeling her pressure firsthand… There was no way I was letting my clan walk around with unprotected minds. The world had creatures and abilities that targeted thoughts, sanity, and spirit, and I refused to have any of them prey on my goblins.
Why not protect their minds against the nightmare-level dangers out there?
It only made sense.
These three would do for now.
They covered healing, survival instincts, and ntal defense.
I would share these three, along with other specialized skills.
Now, to focus on individuals.
If I rembered correctly, I had previously shared seven skills with Narg, Zarah, and Flogga.
[Mana Shield], [Fla Orb], [Warcry], [Iron Fist], [Stealth], [Danger Sense], and [Roar of Intimidation].
The last four had gone to the rest as well.
Looking at that list now, it was obvious I needed to start reorganizing.
So of those skills served their purpose back when we were weaker and scrambling for any advantage, but now things were shifting.
The clan was growing.
The enemies we would face next would be stronger and far more specialized. My goblins needed skills that matched who they were becoming, not who they were a few levels ago.
So the first target for an overhaul was Flogga.
I unshared [Warcry], [Iron Fist], [Roar of Intimidation], and [Fla Orb] from her. None of them were bad, but they didn't fit her path anymore, not with the direction her body and abilities were taking. Keeping them on her would have been nothing but dead weight.
In their place, I selected [Poison Craft] and [Toxic Core], and just as I moved my finger toward [Venom Burst (C)] and [Acid Vein (B)], sothing unexpected happened.
Both skills were already marked as added.
I froze, staring at the interface for a mont, my brain taking a second to catch up. I even hovered over the icons again to make sure it wasn't so lag or visual glitch.
But no—there they were. Already slotted into her list.
A small frown crept onto my face while I tried to piece together why the system would add them on its own. Then the answer slid into place so clearly that I felt a spark run through .
And I couldn't help but laugh under my breath.
Of course.
Of course it worked like that.
The mont I saw it, everything made sense.
How did I not realize it earlier from the way the skills were described?
The structure. The wording. The progression.
Every piece had been hinting at it.
These weren't four separate skills at all.
They were a skill line. A grouped progression.
A primary ability with its branches already locked into it.
And Flogga had qualified for the whole set the mont I shared the core.
No wonder the system filled in the rest automatically.
[Venom Burst] and [Acid Vein] weren't separate abilities at all—they were sub-skills bundled under [Toxic Core]. Together, they ford a single unified skill line.
Which ant sothing huge.
When I shared the main skill, the sub-skills were included automatically.
I clenched my fist, excitent tightening through my chest in a way I couldn't hold back. This wasn't just convenient. It was broken in the best possible way.
I had assud the system would treat the main skill and each of its branches as separate entries, aning every little component would eat up a precious slot. But that wasn't the case at all. The entire line counted as one skill when shared.
That ant Flogga didn't just get [Toxic Core].
She got [Venom Burst], [Acid Vein], and even [Plague Reactor]—the full poison path—without any extra cost to the ten-skill limit.
It was insane.
And it changed everything.
Because if this was true for one skill line… then I wasn't just limited to giving her a single poison set. I could share multiple full lines with her, each one bringing along its branches for free.
There was no warning, no restriction, no subtle hint telling I was pushing so boundary I wasn't ant to cross.
The system didn't put a limit on it at all.
A grin stretched across my face, the kind that bubbled up from pure excitent… but halfway through, I forced myself to pause.
Because the question hit just as quickly.
Was giving a single goblin multiple full skill lines actually a good idea?
In most gas I had played, stacking too many complex ability paths on one character usually backfired.
Overlap, confusion, inefficiency, or outright conflict between skills—it was a common problem.
Ten being the hard limit didn't exactly help that theory.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the limit itself wasn't designed around skill lines, but around individual entries… which made this whole loophole even stranger.
Unless, of course, this was just sothing the system architect overlooked.
Whether that was true or not, it didn't matter right now. If piling multiple skill lines on a goblin ever caused problems—ntal strain, exhaustion, instability, anything at all—I could unshare the line instantly. The system made attachnt and removal painless, so it wasn't a risk that would spiral out of control.
This wasn't sothing worth stressing over.
Not at this mont. Not when the opportunity in front of was this good.
I punched the air, a small laugh escaping as the thrill of the discovery washed through my chest.
This changed the ga for my entire clan.
"Man.." I exhaled, my chest heavy with giddiness. "Killing...
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