The Heroes' Ingenuity, Learning Hero Skills!

Bell Cranel

Lv.1

Strength:H101→212

Endurance:i57→H121

Dexterity:H131→G201

Agility:G211→F321

Mana:i42→H186

On the city walls at dawn, Thor updated the [Status] for Bell Cranel.

Watching those numbers soar as if leaping upward, even he felt a flicker of distinct surprise in his heart.

Is this the speed of Bell Cranel's growth?

In just a single day, his attribute values had increased by such a margin.

The amount of growth was likely a hundred times that of an ordinary adventurer.

Noticing his god had been silent for a long time, Bell Cranel couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Is something wrong, my god?"

Thor returned to his senses, his tone calm, "It is nothing."

He expertly imprinted Bell Cranel's status sheet onto paper and handed over the record of this astonishing improvement.

Bell Cranel took it, his eyes scanning the values, and he let out a surprised gasp, "Th-this, what is this?!"

He nearly lunged at the paper, his face almost pressed against it.

Thor had originally worried that seeing such a leap would make Bell Cranel arrogant, and he was about to offer a warning, "This improvement is acceptable, but..."

Before the reminder not to be complacent could leave his lips, he clearly heard Bell Cranel's voice, filled with frustration and intense unwillingness, "Too weak... I... I am truly too weak."

Thor was slightly taken aback, then a smile of understanding and gratification appeared on his face.

It seemed the biting mockery from that werewolf adventurer, Bete, at the tavern last night, combined with his own sense of powerlessness when facing a formidable monster, had indeed dealt Bell Cranel a massive blow.

Having such an urgent desire to become stronger was worthy of praise.

Thor smiled and patted Bell Cranel on the back, signaling that he could pull his shirt back down.

He comforted him, "The growth of strength is never something achieved overnight. Work hard, and one day, your efforts will answer your expectations."

"Yes!" Bell Cranel responded with vigor. He pulled his shirt down and put his jacket back on.

He looked around the empty top of the city wall; there was no one else there but them, and he couldn't help but ask in confusion.

"Thor, why did we come here?"

Thor explained, "There are few people here, and it is open—perfect for training."

The morning breeze brushed through his star-dusted hair.

Bell Cranel's eyes were instantly ignited, shimmering with excitement, and he asked impatiently, "Does this have to do with the [Hero Skill] you mentioned yesterday, my god?"

"Correct." Thor nodded affirmatively.

Bell Cranel asked eagerly, "Then... what exactly is this [Hero Skill]?"

Thor's gaze seemed to pierce through the long river of time, his voice carrying a hint of distant resonance.

"In my long life, I have seen many beings whom mortals call [Heroes]. Though their power was weak and their knowledge incredibly shallow..."

He paused, his tone devoid of condescension, merely stating a fact.

"...some of their ingenuity in battle and the light of their will that burst forth in an instant were worthy of praise."

He turned his gaze back to Bell Cranel with the air of an observer, "I have recorded the valuable skills and techniques displayed by these heroes. Now, I can select the parts suitable for you and pass them on."

Hearing that he could learn new skills, Bell Cranel became instantly agitated.

His eyes sparkled with intense anticipation as he asked Thor, "Thor! What kind of skill is it?"

Thor pondered for a moment, as if precisely dredging through memories as vast as a sea of stars, before speaking.

"There are many types of [Hero Skill], and they must be compatible with you... Then, let us start by teaching you a basic [Flash Step]."

"[Flash Step]?" Bell Cranel felt unfamiliar with the term; it was a skill he had never heard of in Orario. "Thor, what exactly is this skill?"

Thor intended to explain, but changed his mind, deciding a more intuitive demonstration would be better. "Verbal description is inferior to personal experience. It is better for you to see it with your own eyes. Come, draw your blade and strike at me."

He remained in his original posture, merely beckoning casually at Bell Cranel with his free hand.

Bell Cranel was shocked, "Attack you with a weapon? How could I do that!"

He instinctively protected the hilt at his waist, unwilling in every possible way.

Thor's voice carried a calm that brooked no argument, revealing a sliver of absolute confidence belonging to an ancient existence.

"There is no need for concern. With your current strength, this mortal iron... is not enough to harm me in the slightest."

His gaze signaled for Bell to go ahead and strike.

Having received such an assurance from Thor, Bell finally managed to set his mind at ease.

He took a deep breath and drew the small knife that had accompanied him since his first battle in the Dungeon.

He settled firmly into a combat stance.

This was the first time he was truly facing Thor as an opponent.

The mere act of their eyes meeting brought a massive, invisible pressure crashing down upon him, a weight born from the disparity in their life levels.

The figure before him seemed like a seamless whole, devoid of even the slightest opening!

Bell gritted his teeth in secret, feeling a sudden surge of shame.

To think I actually believed I could wound Lord Thor...

He immediately gathered his focus, concentrating all his attention on the imposing figure before him.

After steeling his resolve, he suddenly launched himself forward!

The Agility stat of 300 points granted him astonishing explosive power.

Bell felt his body lighter than ever before; pushing off with his feet, he shot toward Thor like an arrow released from a bow, leaving a trail of afterimages in his wake.

The small knife sliced through the air, thrusting straight at Thor's chest.

However, just as the tip of the blade was about to touch Thor's lapel.

Without even activating a skill, Thor's figure seemed merely brushed by a gentle breeze, sliding toward the rear-side in a movement so natural it defied common sense.

Bell's strike, which he had been so certain would land, missed completely.

"With only this much resolve, you won't even be able to touch the hem of my garment." Thor's calm voice rang out beside Bell, urging him to attack with greater ferocity.

Bell's heart shook violently, and he whispered to himself, "So incredible!"

Thor's evasion was completely natural, lacking a single wasted movement; it was purely the rhythmic instinct of his body.

The stark contrast ignited the fighting spirit within the youth.

His eyes sharpened, and he quickly adjusted his center of gravity, launching another assault on Thor.

In his hands, the small knife transformed into a driving rain, stabbing, slashing, and hacking at Thor's vital points with speed, precision, and ruthlessness!

Yet, that figure, standing with one hand behind his back, was like a paper kite fluttering amidst a raging storm.

Every seemingly perilous dodge and shift allowed the blade to graze past him with hair-thin precision, failing to touch even the fabric of his clothes.

Bell had not expected that even after updating his status and seeing his stats skyrocket, his speed still couldn't keep up with Thor in the slightest.

He calmed his mind, forcing himself to stay cool, and began to rapidly adjust the rhythm and speed of his attacks.

Every step and every swing of the blade became more precise and swift.

He felt new power surging from deep within his body, rapidly adapting to the soaring stats, as if the invisible shackles on his limbs had been shattered.

In Bell's perception, Thor's previously elusive dodging movements gradually became clear and distinct, and their trajectory began to be captured.

Sweat trickled down his temple; he was fully focused, and finally, in the subtle moment of Thor's weight shift, he caught an opening!

Now!

A brilliant light erupted in Bell's eyes. The accumulated power exploded, and his arm, gripping the knife, turned into an afterimage that tore through the air, thrusting forward with unwavering conviction—

This strike condensed all his current explosive power and his grasp of the timing; there was no way it could miss!

Where the blade pointed, Thor's figure seemed to freeze.

But just as the tip was about to touch the fabric—

"Swish!"

Thor's figure vanished into thin air!

Like salt dissolving in water, there was no warning, not even the slightest sound of wind.

Bell's full-force thrust pierced only the cold air, and the massive force with no target caused his body to stumble.

His pupils contracted, his mind going blank with shock: "Wh... where did he go?!"

Before the recoil of his missed strike had fully faded, a cold touch carrying the scent of death had quietly pressed against the most lethal point on the side of his neck—

Thor's joined fingers were pressed precisely against his pulsing carotid artery.

The threat of death was incomparably real.

A chill spread along his spine down to his heels, then shot back up to the top of his head, nearly freezing the blood in his veins!

Only then did Thor's voice, carrying a leisurely echo, reach him clearly from mere inches behind his back:

"This is [Flash Step], the ingenuity of a Noxus assassin."

"So... so incredible!" Bell's heart hammered wildly. The immense shock, the lingering fear, and the intense awe for that miraculous [Flash Step] instantly overwhelmed his mind.

Thor released the fingers pressed against Bell's neck.

The lethal chill vanished abruptly, and Bell's legs gave way, causing him to collapse to the ground with a heavy thud.

He gasped for air, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The sensation of death from that very moment seemed to linger on his skin like a chill.

His eyes wandered blankly to the spot where Thor had been standing, then he snapped his head back to look at Thor, who was now standing behind him, his mind a complete blank—

That skill had activated without any warning, so fast that he hadn't even caught a blur, as if space itself had been folded.

It wasn't until his rapid breathing calmed slightly that Bell managed to regain his senses.

Thor waited quietly for him to catch his breath before he began to explain.

"This is a skill that allows for teleportation via marks. You can leave a unique mark on a living creature's body, or even on items like a small knife you carry with you."

"When the skill is activated, you can instantly teleport to the location of the mark, achieving displacement through space."

He raised his hand, his fingertips condensing an intricately structured, mysterious rune that emitted a faint silver glow.

"This is what the mark looks like." He displayed it, then closed his hand gently, and the rune dissipated. "Furthermore, the core advantage of this skill is that it consumes none of your stamina or magic power."

Flash Step!

Bell's eyes lit up with startling intensity.

Instant movement without consuming stamina or magic! This was an unimaginably divine skill!

Just thinking about the possibilities of using it in battle was enough to make his heart race.

Thor stepped forward, reached out to take Bell by the arm, and pulled him up from the cold ground, adding as he did so.

"However, this Flash Step skill is not invincible; it has its limitations."

"Based on your current strength, the upper limit for successful Flash Step activations in a single day is about three times. As your level rises in the future and your mental strength and control improve, you will naturally be able to use it more often. Also,"

He paused, emphasizing, "There is a clear distance limit to Flash Step. Once the distance between you and the mark exceeds one hundred meters, you cannot complete the teleportation, even if the mark remains."

Bell nodded in sudden realization.

There were quite a few restrictions, but even so, this skill was already more powerful than he could have imagined!

Instant teleportation within a hundred-meter range, three times a day, with no consumption! This was absolutely a divine skill capable of turning the tide at a critical moment!

"Do you want to learn it?"

"Yes!" Bell did not hesitate in the slightest.

"Very good."

Thor nodded with satisfaction, then a light flashed at his fingertips, and a [Stardust] emitting a soft stellar radiance appeared in his palm.

He handed this precious Stardust to Bell. "Here, swallow it. I will slowly guide you to master it."

Looking at the Stardust that Thor had painstakingly condensed at the cost of a large number of Magic Stones, a strong sense of unease and guilt welled up in Bell's heart again.

"Lord Thor! This... this is the Stardust you worked so hard to condense to restore your power... I..."

Thor's expression remained calm; he patted Bell on the shoulder gently and comforted him, "Do not hesitate too much, Bell. This is like the difference between sharpening an axe and chopping wood."

"You are my 'blade' now. The sharper and stronger you become, the more efficient we will be in the future when we delve into the Dungeon to obtain Magic Stones to restore my power. Improving your strength is an investment in our future. Consuming one piece of Stardust in exchange for a leap in your strength is worth it."

Under Thor's gentle gaze and repeated reassurances, the struggle in Bell's heart finally subsided.

He solemnly took the Stardust, hesitated no longer, and swallowed it.

As the Stardust entered his body, a cool and vast energy instantly surged through his limbs and bones.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Bete, who had been severely taught a lesson last night, was pacing irritably through the somewhat deserted streets of Orario in the early morning, trying to dispel the stifling frustration in his chest.

With his hands in his pockets, his boots thudding heavily against the cobblestones, he frowned, his mind still filled with the image of Loki's terrified expression and the complex looks from his companions.

He had just turned into a narrow, quiet back alley piled with debris, trying to take a shortcut to clear his head.

A figure as massive as a mountain blocked the narrow light at the alley entrance without warning, completely cutting off his path forward.

"Huh?" Bete looked up in annoyance. The sunlight was obscured by the figure, and he could only make out the well-defined muscle lines and the signature features of a Boaz.

When his vision adjusted to the backlight and he recognized that silent, resolute face, his hands, which had been in his pockets, were whipped out as if by reflex, and his body instantly tensed like a bowstring.

"Ottar...!"

A strong sense of crisis instantly gripped him.

The man before him was none other than Ottar the Brave, the captain of the Freya Familia, the only Lv.7 in Orario!

He instinctively wanted to retreat, to get out of this disadvantageous alley first—

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The sound of air being torn apart rang out behind him, and several figures as swift as ghosts descended from the sky, landing precisely on the low walls and piles of debris behind and to his sides, completely sealing off all escape routes.

Every figure exuded an aura of Lv.5 or higher.

The elites from the Freya Familia locked their cold eyes onto him.

Bete's heart sank to the bottom.

He quickly assumed a combat stance, his greaves Frostwelt glinting with a cold light, a low growl laced with taut fury: "Hey—! What do you Freya Familia bastards want with me?!"

Ottar did not answer, remaining silent as he slowly drew his massive, chillingly large greatsword.

His cold gaze swept over Bete: "Everything for the Goddess."

The moment those words fell!

BOOM!

The violent sounds of combat erupted instantly!

Only a moment later, the fierce struggle in the alley came to an abrupt end.

Bete, beaten until covered in wounds and utterly drained of both magic and stamina, was tossed like a heavy sack of trash into the depths of the alley, landing in a pile of foul-smelling refuse.

The intense pain and impact caused his vision to blacken, plunging him into a brief unconsciousness.

Wh-why?

That was the final thought before he lost consciousness.

He did not remember ever offending anyone from the Freya Familia.

At this moment, in the shadows around the corner of the alley.

A beautiful figure draped in a thick cloak with her hood pulled low stood quietly, blending perfectly into the dim light.

Beneath the hood, Syr tilted her head to look into the alley.

Her bright, large eyes glanced at the unconscious werewolf Bete in the trash pile with keen interest.

Watching the elites of the Freya Familia coldly withdraw as if they had merely completed a task, vanishing quickly into the other end of the alley, a barely audible, delighted chuckle escaped from beneath the cloak.

Syr's slender fingers tugged gently at the edge of her hood, ensuring her striking gray hair and face remained hidden.

The corners of the young girl's lips curled into an expectant arc.

With her hands clasped behind her back, she skipped lightly in the direction of the shop, whispering to herself, her voice filled with a near-devout longing:

"Hehe~ so, what comes next... how can I earn his favor?"