Assimilate All Talents

Arriving at the gates of Kerman City, their group immediately drew countless eyes, but they were mostly focused on Thorwyn.

"Never seen a beast like that."

"Could it be some kind of variant?"

Thorwyn's ears flicked at the murmurs around him, and his nose twitched as he picked up the numerous unfamiliar scents drifting from the city entrance. But more than anything, he was hyper aware of the countless eyes watching him.

"Awoo? (Why are they looking at me?)"

"They're just curious." Sol said, keeping his tone casual. "You're not exactly something people see every day."

Thorwyn wasn't used to crowds this large. Even in Initium, he'd never seen so many people gathered in one place. Most had still been hiding in their homes, afraid of the Thunder Wolf Kings surrounding the town.

"Hyuun… (Feels weird that so many people are looking at me…)" Thorwyn whined softly.

Sol patted his back and chuckled. "You'll get used to it. You're going to stand out no matter where we go. But don't worry, most should be friendly."
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"Awoo? (Most?)"

"Don't worry about it. I'll explain one day." Sol brushed the matter aside.

He hadn't told Thorwyn that there would be people hunting him. While Sol didn't want to lie, the truth would only make the young beast paranoid. He feared Thorwyn would overreact and become overly cautious around strangers.

And after Guildmaster William's warning the day before, Sol knew keeping Thorwyn hidden forever was impossible. If the people hunting magical beasts were even half as skilled as William claimed, they would eventually find him. Hiding Thorwyn would only delay the inevitable.

The best course of action was to keep moving forward naturally and to stick together. As long as Thorwyn avoided using his law technique in public, not many would be able to identify him as an A-Rank beast.

"Come on." Sol said, pointing at the long line of people waiting to enter the city. "Let's get in line."

Following his direction, Thorwyn pulled their carriage forward, stopping behind a merchant caravan.

'Huh. The line's a lot longer than last time I was here.' Sol thought.

Previously, not many people had been traveling to Kerman due to rising tensions at the border with the Frostaxe Clan. But now that the situation had been resolved, the city, bordering three other nations, was once again bustling with travelers and merchants.

'Wait, are those orcs?'

Scanning the crowd, Sol spotted a band of five orcs farther ahead in the line, chatting amongst themselves. He was a little surprised to see them here. But given that both nations were trying to move past the war and begin cooperating, it made sense that the borders had started to open.

Just as he was about to look away, a group of men approached the orcs, their expressions laced with hostility.

The orcs immediately noticed them, their conversation halting as they turned to face the incoming threat. Their leader—a broad shouldered orc with dark gray skin and jagged scars across his arms—narrowed his eyes.

The men stopped just a few paces away. Leading the pack was a man clad in light armor, his gear covered in scrapes from previous battles. He sneered and spat onto the ground.

"The hell do you think you're doing here?" he scoffed. "You don't get to just waltz into our cities like nothing happened."

The orcs exchanged glances before their leader, keeping his hands visible in a non-threatening manner, replied evenly, "We are not here for trouble. We come as representatives of Chieftain Kuruck, seeking an audience with the city's leadership."

"Tch." The man scoffed, glancing over his shoulder at his companions, who muttered in agreement. "You expect us to believe that? That filthy, war mongering orcs have suddenly decided to play nice? Not a damn chance."

Murmurs spread through the line as more people took notice of the rising tension. Some whispered uneasily, while others nodded in agreement with the mercenary.

Sol frowned. The hostility wasn't unexpected, if anything, he was surprised the orcs had even made it this far into Kerman's territory. The city had suffered greatly from the Frostaxe Clan's invasions. The grudge against orcs wasn't just strong—it had been festering for forty years.

Still, Sol had worked alongside the orcs. He had helped resolve their crisis with Orna and the life clusters. He knew they weren't warmongers. Sure, they enjoyed a good battle, but that didn't mean they had wanted this war any more than the humans did.

His gaze flicked toward the city guards stationed at the gates. With all the yelling, surely they'd step in soon—

But no.

None of them moved.

Some pretended to be preoccupied with other duties, while others simply looked the other way, deliberately ignoring the conflict.

Sol sighed. 'I guess they hold a grudge too.'

Most of these guards had probably lived in Kerman their entire lives. They had lost friends and family to the wars. Many likely saw the orcs as nothing more than invaders who deserved no mercy.

The orc leader exhaled sharply, doing his best to de-escalate the situation. "We do not seek conflict. But we have a duty here, and we cannot leave before fulfilling it."

The mercenary scowled. "Then you'll regret it."

Before anyone could react, a hot blooded adventurer raised a bow and nocked an arrow. His voice rang out, dripping with venom.

"The only good orc is a dead orc!"

Gasps rippled through the crowd as the arrow flew. Some looked on in shock, not expecting the situation to escalate so quickly, while others cheered in approval.

Sol's eyes narrowed. In an instant, his body blurred into an ethereal mist—

Then, the ground rumbled.

A stone wall shot up between the orcs and the incoming projectile. The arrow struck with a dull thunk, embedding itself harmlessly in the solid rock.

Silence fell.

The adventurer's face twisted in frustration as the wall slowly sank back into the ground, revealing Sol now standing between the orcs and their attackers.

The crowd murmured at his sudden appearance.

The orcs turned as well. Their leader instinctively reached for his weapon, then froze as he saw the beautiful orange opal necklace around Sol's neck.

'The Savior?!'

Recognition flashed in the orc's eyes as he took a step back in shock.

The adventurer clenched his jaw. "Why are you defending them?!"

Sol exhaled, already tired of this conversation. He gestured toward the orcs. "They weren't attacking anyone. They weren't causing trouble. They were just standing there, and you decided to shoot first. So tell me, who's really in the wrong here?"

The man's face reddened with anger, but before he could retort, one of his companions grabbed his shoulder. "Forget it." He muttered. "That guy's a B-Ranker. I didn't even see how he got there."

The adventurer hesitated. He wasn't suicidal enough to fight a B-Ranker.

But before he could back down, another man stepped forward, twin blades in hand. He raised one at Sol.

"Who gives a shit if you're a B-Ranker?! So am I! Watch how I wipe the floor—"

Before he could finish, the ground beneath him shook.

Four stone slabs shot up, encasing him in hardened rock, leaving only his head exposed. The ground beneath him sank, burying his entire body except for his face.

"What the—?!"

He struggled, veins bulging as he activated [Bulk Up] to enhance his strength, but even with the boost, he couldn't make the stone budge.

Sol turned to the rest of the angry mob. "Anyone else wanna try?"

Silence.

Even the spectators were dumbfounded by how quickly the self proclaimed B-Ranker had been dealt with. Some even thought the adventurer was lying about his rank given how easily he was defeated, but no one was daring enough to test that theory.

Seeing no one else stepped forward, Sol returned to his carriage. The leader of the orcs wanted to say something, but held back as he saw Sol already walk away.

As Sol sat back down, Thorwyn, who had been watching intently, turned to him and asked, "Awoo? (Do they not like the color green?)"

Sol chuckled. "Yeah, buddy. That's probably it."