Thom arrived back at the village while leaning on the crystal girl's shoulder. He was walking slowly, but his hand still formed into a fist that seemed to seek something to strike. The first ones to receive him were the girls. They did not seem surprised in the slightest of the young man's condition. Quite the contrary: it looked like something shone in their eyes as soon as they saw him return wounded.

He didn't want to acknowledge everything as he passed by them. But his lowered gaze had already admitted his improper stubbornness to them. Suu let go of a sigh as the crystal girl's shoulder brushed her own.

Thom was brought to the treehouse, but as soon as the girl was about to lay him down, he refused and sat upright. Could she blame him? His offer had been turned down, and he had been tricked into another battle that he could not win, this time because of his naivety. Had she not been observing from far away, he would have died a tragic and avoidable death.

She could not read the man's mind. But more or less, the crystal girl understood what was going through it. There was no trace of his peaceful resolve fluttering in his eyes. It had been replaced by something firmer, and at the same time, harder to understand. War was not an easy thing to go through— it was only a long-lasting chain of sorrowful events. The girl knew this well, but how could she tell the man to push his feelings back? Before she could speak, he did.

"What do you think about it?" He didn't meet her gaze as he spoke. "The gift I gave you."

"..." Crystal touched her chest as she remembered that whisper in her head that echoed with the same voice as her own. Skill Master, it was called. At least that was what she had managed to grasp between the neverending cascade of lines that had suddenly appeared inside her head, and the myriad of changes that her soul and body had suffered. Now even her aura felt like it had been disturbed, although it had not changed before even after her resurrection as a golem. She began to wonder if this was the reason for Thom Arburson's smell to be so close to her master, and at the same time, so awfully distinct.

"Do you... Dislike it?" Thom raised his head along with his voice.

"No... It is a wonderful thing, so I believe." She was quick to answer after noticing she had been lost in thought. "It is a power that could shake even the gods, if it works the way that I have managed to infer."

"Hm?" Thom's decaying visage suddenly turned brighter. "You know something...?"

"Only ideas. This one cannot say they are anywhere close to the truth. Judging by the way you are speaking, it looks like you are not totally certain about what it is either? This Repertoire Of The Forest?"

"Its name is Skill Master..." Thom bitterly grinned.

"That was not my conclusion. After all, everything indicates that this power is somehow related to the forest. A forest in specific, as the voice stated. Have you heard of it? Somewhere in Rumblound, a place that is not familiar to me, for however long I have lived. I have never heard of it."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Understanding the origin of your ability might give you a better grasp of its actual functionality." The crystal girl quietly sat beside Thom and began slowly explaining. "The guideline told me you were the sixth Heart. But what became of the other five? If they have all perished, then doesn't that mean that even in its world-shaking power, the Skill Master, as you call it, has a deeply exploitable weakness? Just enough to kill the five behind you."

Thom opened his eyes as he felt goosebumps break all over his body. He swallowed dry. Why had he suddenly felt so scared? Was that a shred of knowledge that had triggered his response, or just a human response?

"I... Don't even know anything about the other five..."

"It seems like we are missing vital information, but the clues we can slowly gather may be of great help. Figuring out why it still calls you a Heart would be essential, but the fact that it does allows us to date it back to at least four thousand years ago."

"What?" Thom's body shifted, his face slightly anxious. "Why would such an ancient thing...?"

"The term Heart was heard only when the world was at its beginnings. The gods had begun to fight, and elven civilizations had begun to surge. I had been recently born the first time I heard the term. I heard it from Ladai-Saras herself, as she spoke of the ruler of the elves, or any other monarch. Throughout the years I associated the word Heart with a king... It could be that your aura attracted me dearly so because it belongs to one." She seemed to be smiling, although her face didn't move. "The term was deprecated, however. I do not know where it happened, but the ruler of a nation did no longer represent the very heart of it. They turned the core of its strength into a measly public figure, a king, an emperor. They are the same, no matter what you call them."

"So the fifth... He was a king before me...? And so long ago..."

"Did you say he?"

"Yes... I think I remember I saw a man. He was leading them... The other four, maybe?" As he began to remember, strands of red gas began to appear in concentrated clots in the room. The air itself began to tremble, and so, before it became worse, the girl put her hand on the man's shoulder and shook him out of his trance.

"I know you're planning to face those humans head-on." She said in a low voice beside Thom's ear. "The fact that you have given me this ability means that you are..."

Thom lifted his eyes. His fingers interweaved with one another as he tightly gripped onto his own skin.

"I'm tired of pretending that I am not superior to them."

He gritted his teeth and let a raging fire take over his soul. A terrifying bloodlust spread throughout the entire forest, rustling the leaves sprawled along the ground.

Faraway, Valta felt a chill running down her spine. A voice suddenly rang inside her head, storming her brain with pages of information that she could not completely understand. She felt her muscles tighten up and her presence gain an unprecedented fervor, as if she had suddenly jumped through months upon months of constant training in only a second.

"How absurd..." She blinked her widened eyes. "So this is how it feels..."

"Thom did it...?"

"I guessed this would happen." Valta squinted her eyes and showed a slight smile. "Military supremacy... And so easily attainable."

Thom stepped out of the treehouse. His feet rapidly elevated into the air, the crystal girl following him closely behind. "Where are you headed?", she asked. Thom's eyes were locked in the direction of the orc camp, but he didn't say a word. He skated so firmly above air that one could not decipher his wavering emotions.

Although the girl did not get an answer from him, she soon came to notice. Thom had already skipped past the entrance of the orc village, and had headed towards the very end of it, besides a branch of the seemingly eternal river. A watermill slowly turned beside a wide building: a house with a second wing and a massive dirt yard, sheltered by a wooden roof that was supported by nothing but wooden stakes. The sound of hammering could be heard from inside already, a metallic noise that was close to the one of clashing blades, which both of them had heard so much throughout their lives.

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Thom descended slowly and landed with a faulty step, but the girl caught him before he could fall down. He shook his head, then continued to walk on his own towards the house. It was no surprise that this was actually the blacksmith's workshop, a place frecuented by the villager's when they needed replacemenets or repairs, was it pots, tools, or weapons. Thom knew the swords and farming tools he had been using came from this shop, but he had never come personally.

As soon as he entered the yard, the smell of rusty iron and sweat swarmed over like a cloud of gas. The watermill rotated slowly, connected by a short rope to a wooden stake that went inside the house.

"An army needs weapons." The girl said. "It is true that your soldiers are lacking in that regard."

"They'll get there." Thom didn't take a second look at the array of iron tools arranged outside of the shop. What he wanted to see was weapons, and he didn't find those in the yard. As soon as he entered the stench became stronger.

A massive orc was walking towards a proportionally big stool, which creaked as he sat down and wiped his head with a tissue. Much like the rest, this man's skin was light brown, and he possesed a pair of blunt fangs sprouting from his mouth. However, different to the others, his eyes were gentle, and his body looked like it possessed fat in equal measure to muscle. From his ornaments to the way he breathed, this man was different from the warrior-looking beasts that were the other orcs, especially, he looked way too different from Djolk.

He took a second to notice they had arrived. His eyes shifted quickly towards them and the color of surprise dawned over him, then he hurriedly stood up and headed their way with agile, sturdy steps. "My Lord! It is a pleasure to see you here in person! May I ask what you have come for?"

"..." Thom looked around the smith to find only a few broken weapons and tools. It seemed like they were pending to be repaired, rather than having been recently made. Regardless, he directed his voice towards the orc. "It's good to meet you, Ubolg."

"Is there... Something wrong?" The orc named Ubolg nervously looked around.

"There's a few things. But firstly, do you have anything to read? Anything? It could even be scramblings or a recipe, as long as it is written in orcish."

"Eh...? Oh, sure!" The man hurriedly ran to his desk and retrieved a paper, then gave it to Thom. "They're basic smithing instructions. I don't use them anymore, but every now and then the villagers ask for it."

Thom didn't bother to look at it, but simply passed it towards the crystal girl. "Read it." He said without looking at her.

"..." She was dumbstruck for a second, but grabbed onto it. A quick gaze revealed an array of symbols that she could just not understand. "I am not well versed in orcish languages. I believe I cannot do this."

"He told you it was an instruction sheet, did he not?" He glared at her. "So read it. Find out what it says and wait for me outside. I have something to discuss."

"..." The girl looked slightly flustered as she silently walked out of the shop, her hair sounding like wind chimes as she pulled the paper closer to her face.

"Now... We can talk."

"Y-Yes..." Although Thom had not asked for it, the massive orc kneeled in front of Thom so his Lord would not need to raise his head to talk to him. It was not something an orc would do, but they feared the black-haired man more than any other. "What is it... That you nee—"

"3.000 weapons for next moon, all made out of iron. One thousand scimitars, one thousand and five hundred orcish battleaxes, and five hundred pikes."

"My lord...!" The man's face turned pale.

"Did I misspoke?"

"What you're asking for is...!" Ubolg's forehead folded into an expression of concern. "Even with the help of my two assistants, that is a ridiculous notion! If we work at our fullest, we could hand over eighty crude weapons, but never something like that...!"

"Grab as many assistants as you need from the black and red tribes of the hobgoblins. Red for power, black for smarts. Are there any questions?"

"Even so...!"

"Don't worry." Thom unclenched his fist and put it over the blacksmith's shoulder. "I'll give you a gift and work you until you get the best out of it."

"Wha—"

Ubolg wasn't able to question his master's outrageous demands, however, because his mind was suddenly attacked by a storm of information. His eyes turned foggy for a second as he lost all focus, and his fat slowly began to melt into muscle. His frame seemed to grow even larger, and the calluses on his hands hardened to the point that they would resist a faint ember. His aura increased from that of a commoner to one of a warrior in a second, although it did not feel sharp like a hunter's, but firm and unwavering like iron itself.

"...My Lord... What is this?" When he came back to his senses, his question was the obvious one. Thom didn't answer, but concentrated on Skill Master's voice.

「Learning successful. The subordinate skill [Skill Sharing] has been upgraded to [Skill Sharing II]. It is now possible to share a skill of grade A+ or less and two of its subordinate skills.」

"Share [Dissolve Sublevels] with everyone who owns Skill Master." A grin formed on Thom's face.

As soon as his words fell, Ubolg felt yet another surge of energy inside his body. Thom figured the man might have accumulated experience in several crafts during his lifetime as a blacksmith, so the fact that he had suddenly been elevated to a greater state must have been accompanied by a flooding of information on hundreds of techniques and recipes from the Forest's Repertoire.

"This is... Just too great of a gift!" Ubolg lowered his head and tilted his body. "I will not forget this!"

"Pay it back, that's all I need. Take as many assistants as you want, but do what I have asked of you. Do not worry about the iron supply, I will solve that myself."

"Yes!!"

Thom stepped out of the shop and immediately closed his eyes shut. He saw his own fire dancing in the center of his body, and thousands of small threads connecting to every single monster he had named by making use of his borrowed aura.

"Skill master? Does a soul link like this one count as a deep connection? Tell me. Is this enough for [Skill Sharing] to work?" He frowned. "If I want to share Skill Master with every hob and orc in this forest... Tell me... Can I do it?"

「The requirements are met to share one skill and two of it's subordinate skills with six thousand one hundred and ninety-two living beings. 」

"Excellent." Thom nodded with relief. "Then... Do it."

「Yes.」

Like a ripple that forced it's way throughout the thickest trees of the forest and took hold of every walking soul, Skill Master's voice resonated like an echo inside every monster's head. Dropped cauldrons and sudden halts became imminent as their brains were toyed with and their bodies accommodated to the exigencies of their new power. Famined hobgoblins gulped down the very earth below their feet to compensate for the sudden burning of the little fat their bodies had, as many orcs saw their muscles turn even firmer and sturdier than their already-bulking bodies, and others were relieved of burdens they didn't even know they carried.

A roaring fire was lit in the forest as thousands of insignificant auras turned into the shape of an army, and their power pumped into Thom's very own soul through the thin thread that connected them. The power he had spent to link their soul returned to him with even more than he had given, hitting him like a waterfall.

He could feel the impatience, the uncertainty. It was all palpable in the fluttering of everyone's growing fire, but it made him feel powerful, in control, and even more thirsty for authority than before. He had forgotten about his reasons for not doing this before, he had revoked all the rules in his head that told him not to put others in potential danger because of his pride.

And it felt wonderful.

「Learning successful. The subordinate skill [Skill Sharing II] has been upgraded to [Skill Sharing III]. It is now possible to share a skill of grade A+ or less and three of its subordinate skills.

Learning successful. The subordinate skill [Skill Sharing II] has been upgraded to [Skill Sharing IV]. It is now possible to share a skill of grade A+ or less and three of it's subordinate skills, and a skill of grade B or less and one of it's subordinate skills.」

"Ha..." Thom exhaled heavily as his arms drooped down. The anger and ecstasy he was feeling just a few moments ago were replaced, transformed, into a pond of worry. He couldn't help but wonder if the part of him that had stopped him from carelessly sharing this gift was right. He couldn't stop thinking: "Have I done the right thing?"

Six thousand people and more suddenly cursed by that gift of his. How could he control it if they went overboard? How could he excuse himself if they died exactly because of this power he had given them? And then— what would he do if the power drove him mad beyond repair?

"I had to do this..." He lightly touched his head as he combed his hair back. "Yeah.. for me.. and them."

"Thom Arburson."

"!"

The black-haired man snapped out of his trance and looked around. In front of him was the crystal girl, holding up the paper she had been handed. Thom blinked repeatedly to clean the blurry mess in front of his face, slowly coming back to his senses. He raised his eyebrows and scratched his head as he looked at the crystal girl— "Yes?" He asked, and the girl pointed to the paper.

Now that the veil of rage had been torn apart and he could clearly see, the content of the paper he had handed the girl became rather suspicious to him. A bitter smile formed on his face as the title "Top ten female villagers" flashed in front of his eyes, a slight tremor of disgust raiding his body as he saw Djkavan name's on the list.

"I am now able to read it, together with the many languages that you speak." She lowered the paper. "However, I now find myself in deep regret of having this ability."

Somehow, her voice sounded rather sad as she lowered the cursed paper.