Chapter 70: Unique Skill

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Unique Skill

Victor walked straight toward the arena, ignoring the murmurs trailing behind him as curious barbarians drifted closer to the Dire Lions.

One of them bared its teeth at a particularly bold tribesman who got too close, sending him stumbling backward.

At the arena entrance, he turned to Kiki.

"I want to do this alone."

She raised a brow.

"I just want to pay my respects properly," he added, and after a moment she nodded, staying put.

On his orders, three of the Direlions followed him in.

The other three stayed at the entrance, an unspoken order keeping anyone else from crossing the threshold.

Inside the arena, there was still black ash coating the ground, the remains of bodies burned after Boramo’s swarm had torn through more than ninety percent of the tribe. Victor’s eyes swept over it briefly. That day was still fresh in his head.

How he panicked, and how he threw up at the sight of the gore.

Now, it felt like a long time ago, even though it had been mere days.

Regardless, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind, that wasn’t why he’d come.

He gave a short gesture, and the Dire Lions moved toward the Basalt Dragonic Lizard’s corpse.

It was still sprawled where it had fallen. No one had moved it. No one was capable of moving it. They couldn’t even hack into it of there wanted to because of its Volcanic rock like skin.

Of course, Victor had his own plans for it. How could he allow such a precious resource to to waste?

There was also the fact that days had passed, long enough that any ordinary creature would have begun rotting badly by now, but this thing remained intact.

A creature of the Encroaching Darkness, was anything but ordinary.

Right now, it was not the most important thing.

At his signal, the Direlions shoved the massive body aside, and beneath it, exactly where he remembered, the ground lay cracked open.

He smiled.

Victor had stumbled onto this spot entirely by accident one of those times times he was playing as a Barbarian many years ago.

This crack on the arena floor only appeared after the Lizard’s fall shattered the foundation beneath it.

Victor had tried hacking the ground with an axe when in the game. Unfortunately, the ground was impossible to break with a common grade axe.

But the fall of the Dragonic Basalt Dragon had done wonders for the foundation here.

He raised his weapon and went to work, smashing again and again into the already-weakened stone until the gap widened into something he could fit through.

It struck Victor’s mind again, as it had the first time he’d found this place. How strange it was that the arena floor was built from solid cement.

Barbarians didn’t have that kind of technological know how. Their homes were built from hide, wood, and clay. They were nothing close to this level of construction.

Either the old Barbarians had been far more advanced than current generations gave them credit for, or something else had built this place long before the Barbarian tribe claimed it as their territory.

Victor dropped through the opening. It was dark and misty, but he kept moving anyway.

A torch hung on the wall nearby, cloth wrapped around one end, a barrel of oil sitting beside it.

It looked like some old tomb someone had prepared exploration for in advance.

He dipped the cloth in the oil, and struck it against the stone, and light flared to life, pushing back the shadows.

He remembered all of this from the game. Every step felt like retracing an old path.

As he advanced, carvings lined the walls on either side, ancient and weathered, telling some kind of story he couldn’t fully parse.

But one section caught his attention. It was of five figures carved together, and something about them tugged at his memory.

Victor remembered the game lore. They were tube videos of them and the contribution they maid to Dungeon Conquest hundreds of years ago.

The five legendary heroes. The ones who raised the Boundary in the first place.

One figure, clearly meant to be a Barbarian given the axe carved into its hands, stood out among them. But most of the carved joints had been deliberately chipped away, destroyed, like someone hadn’t wanted the full story preserved.

Further along, something else caught his eye. Text, carved in a script he actually recognized.

This was... english? A language, from the real world. Most of it had been destroyed too, only a fragment survived.

BEWARE. ...OF THE SYSTEM.

He frowned at it, unable to make sense of what the warning actually meant, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He pressed on.

Further in, a skeleton lay slumped against one wall, armor rusted and corroded, a sword still gripped in one hand, a small round shield strapped to the other arm. It was covered in dust and cobwebs.

Victor’s eyes lingered on it a moment, curiosity tugging at him. After all, weapons were a valuable commodity. Regardless, he kept moving.

Whatever this place held, the rule in every dungeon crawl he’d ever read in those manwhas or played in games was the same: grab the objective first, investigate everything else after.

The skeleton’s outstretched arm pointed toward something ahead.

Like it had died just moments from reaching it.

On a raised stone slab at the end of the passage, a book hovered in midair, faintly glowing.

Victor approached and reached for it.

The moment his fingers touched the cover, the book dissolved into light and surged straight into his mind.

And it’s information unspooled across his vision instantly.

[Skill Acquired: Heartbound Mimicry]

[Type: Unique — Barbarian Origin]

[Effect: Temporarily replicate the known physical combat capabilities of a target with whom the user shares sufficient emotional resonance]

[Duration: Unlimited, contingent on emotional resonance remaining above threshold — effect ends immediately if resonance drops below the required level]

[Threshold Resonance 20%]

[Note: This skill cannot replicate abilities the target has not demonstrated or mastered. It mirrors technique, muscle memory, and physical skill only — it does not grant awakened abilities, bloodline traits, or system-granted powers]

Victor stared at the description, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"I got it."