Ainis raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Savage Dragon's Shell for the active, and Greedy Dragon's Claw for the passive? Hmm. Not bad. Dramatic, but it suits you. You're already starting to think like a fighter."
Salef opened his eyes, his expression a mix of pride and uncertainty. "It just… felt right. Like those names came from somewhere deeper. Does that make sense?"
Ainis nodded, her silver eyes glinting with approval. "It does. Naming a skill isn't just about creativity. It's about understanding what it represents. 'Savage Dragon's Shell'—you see it as a force of raw power, protecting and attacking at the same time. 'Greedy Dragon's Claw'—a reflex that takes what it touches and twists it to your advantage. These names are an extension of who you are."
Salef glanced at his transformed forearms again, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the exhaustion. "I guess they do feel like mine now."
"Good," Ainis said sharply, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Now that you've named them, you'd better live up to those names. Naming a skill is just the beginning. Mastering it is what makes it truly yours."
"…I wonder what Grafis's Skill is, i'll ask her later, also i have to master that, i felt like my soul was pulled out of my body?!" Salef said with outrage.
Ainis placed a hand on her chin, she looked at her now slightly Damaged apothecary and then sighed. "Well then, i'll fix this later, go home and come back tomorrow the arena trials are in a month and in that month i'll make sure you are good enough to compete atleast, By activating your skills, you have shown potential to create your own Enma Techniques.
Salef perked up slightly, though his legs still wobbled beneath him. "Wait, Enma Techniques? You mean like the stuff you just threw at me?"
Ainis gave him a sly grin. "Exactly. Enma Techniques are the refined forms of your skills. While your Savage Dragon's Shell and Greedy Dragon's Claw are raw abilities, Enma Techniques are the tools you create by shaping and controlling that raw energy. Think of them as personalized weapons or spells, built from your imagination and willpower."
Salef scratched his head, looking doubtful. "So, what, I just… make something up, and it works?"
Ainis crossed her arms and stared at him, unamused. "It's not that simple. You need control, focus, and an understanding of how your energy flows. Your techniques must align with your skill's nature. For instance, your Savage Dragon's Shell seems to be about transformation and brute power. Any technique you create should reflect that."
Salef's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement breaking through his exhaustion. "Wait, so I could create, like… a giant dragon arm or something? Or maybe fire off energy blasts?"
Ainis sighed, shaking her head. "Slow down, dreamer. You don't even know how to properly summon your claws yet, and you're already talking about dragon arms? Start small. Think practical. Techniques aren't about flash—they're about utility. Something simple but effective."
Salef groaned. "Fine. Killjoy."
"Killjoy or not, I'm right," Ainis shot back. "Now, as I said, go home. Rest. When you come back tomorrow, we'll start working on honing your skills and laying the groundwork for your techniques. But don't slack off—if you're not ready for the arena trials in a month, you'll embarrass yourself, and worse, me."
Salef smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I can't let that happen. Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."
As he turned to leave, Ainis called after him, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "Oh, and Salef."
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Good work today," she said, a faint but genuine smile on her lips. "You're better than I expected. Keep that up."
Salef blinked, stunned by the rare compliment, before a sheepish grin spread across his face. "Thanks. I'll try not to disappoint."
Ainis waved him off, already turning her attention back to the wreckage of her apothecary. "You've got a long way to go before you impress me. Now get out of here before I change my mind."
Salef chuckled and trudged off, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. Salef didn't immediately go back home, he returned back to Hectore's shop. "where is he"
Hectore wasn't at the counter, usually he does not have that much customers due to people underestimating technology, Hectore's mother was an engineer and had built multiple machines due to her having a passive skill called "Mechanic" some were brought into society and were useful but some were disregarded, Hectore did not have that passive skill but he learned under his father and was almost as impressive as his mother, Hectore also has a passive skill.
Salef went to the back and saw he wasn't there so Salef did what any friend would to get their attention he shouted at the top of his lungs, "HECTORE, WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THIS TIME?!"
The sound echoed through the shop, bouncing off the cluttered shelves filled with half-finished gadgets, blueprints, and spare parts. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a loud clang followed by muffled cursing erupted from somewhere below the floorboards.
Salef smirked. "Gotcha."
A trapdoor near the back of the shop creaked open, and a familiar voice groaned from beneath. "You're gonna pay for that, Salef. I was this close to finishing something."
Hectore emerged, his messy hair streaked with grease, and his goggles pushed up onto his forehead. "Are you here to complain because Ainis beat you up because i warned you not to call her short"
"Firstly i deeply respect elves, secondly i think i am now her Disciple or something" Salef answered with pride.
Hectore's green eyes suddenly became dull and distant. "…How did you fall in love with her?"
Salef suddenly went quiet. "…I am going to break your machines"
Touch one screw and you're paying for it," Hectore snapped, pointing a wrench at Salef like it was a weapon. "Now spill—what do you mean, 'her disciple'? Ainis doesn't take disciples. Ever."
"Well, she made an exception," Salef said smugly, leaning against a counter covered in tools and random metal scraps. "I unlocked two skills today. Two. She said I've got potential. Something about me creating my own 'Enma Techniques.' Pretty sure that means she's gonna train me for the arena trials."
Hectore blinked, his expression a mix of disbelief and suspicion. "She said that? Ainis—the 'I don't babysit amateurs' Ainis?"
Salef shrugged, grinning. "Guess I'm just that special."
Hectore groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You're not special, you're reckless. She probably took pity on you because you almost killed yourself, didn't you?"
Salef's grin faltered. "That's… not entirely inaccurate. But I didn't die, so it's fine."
"Unbelievable," Hectore muttered, turning back toward the trapdoor. "You're lucky she didn't just let you fry. Anyway, why are you here? You've already got a super-elf mentor now. What could I possibly help with?"
"Nothing i just wanted to ask, are you leaving this small town and going to the infinite Arena?" Salef asked curiously.
Hectore paused mid-step, his back to Salef. He adjusted the goggles on his forehead, his usual sarcastic demeanor fading into something more serious. "The Infinite Arena, huh?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Figured that's where this was heading."
Salef frowned. "That's not an answer."
Hectore turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "I've thought about it. Everyone knows the Infinite Arena's the place to be if you want to make a name for yourself. Big fights, big rewards… but also big risks. Not really my style. I'd rather stay alive and tinker in peace."
"But what about all your inventions?" Salef pressed. "The world deserves to see them. You deserve to be recognized for your work."
Hectore smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "The world doesn't care about some random mechanic from a backwater town. The Infinite Arena's about flashy powers and over-the-top skills. No one's going to cheer for a guy who can build a slightly better wrench."
Salef crossed his arms, his tone firm. "I remembered you have a passive skill, what is it?"
Hectore raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. "You just remembered that? We've been friends for years, Salef."
"Yeah, yeah," Salef waved him off impatiently. "I've been busy with my own stuff. Now spill it. What's your passive skill? I don't think I've ever seen you use it."
Hectore sighed, setting his wrench down on a cluttered workbench. "It's called 'Artificial Life'"
"…uhm wait, doesn't that mean?" Salef asked confused.
"Oh no i can't bring machines to life but it's more of the opposite, any machine that is on my body connects itself to my mind and
becomes an extension of me," Hectore explained, tapping the goggles on his forehead. "These? Not just goggles. They're part of me now. I can see schematics in real time, analyze weaknesses, and even control small mechanisms remotely. It's not flashy like your dragon claws or anything, but it's practical."
Salef blinked, trying to process the information. "Wait, so you're saying you can merge with machines? Like some kind of… mechanical symbiosis?"
Hectore chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's one way to put it. It's not like I turn into a robot or anything. It's more like I enhance what's already there. If I slap a gadget onto my arm, I can control it like it's part of my body. But the real kicker? I can repair and modify machines mid-combat. That's where the 'Artificial Life' part comes in."
Salef's jaw dropped. "You're telling me you could be out there building weapons or fixing stuff while fighting? And you're not joining the Infinite Arena?"
Hectore sighed, sitting down on a nearby stool. "It's not that simple. Sure, my skill's handy, but it's not combat-focused. The Infinite Arena chews up and spits out people like me—people who rely on brains instead of brawn. I'd need to build an entire arsenal just to survive the first round."
"Then build one!" Salef insisted, stepping closer. "You've got everything you need right here. You're not some random mechanic, Hectore. You've got a skill that makes you unique. If I'm stepping into the arena with just these"—he flexed his forearms, though they still looked normal—"then you've got no excuse."
Hectore gave him a flat look. "Yeah, except you've got Ainis breathing down your neck, making sure you don't explode. Who's going to do that for me?"
Salef grinned slyly. "Me, obviously."
Hectore groaned. "Gods, you're insufferable. Look, I'll think about it, alright? But don't get your hopes up. For now, just focus on surviving Ainis's training. If you make it through, maybe I'll consider leaving this town."
Salef's grin widened. "Deal. But don't come crying to me when I drag you into the spotlight."
"Don't worry," Hectore muttered, picking up his wrench again. "If anyone's crying, it'll probably be you—after Ainis smashes you into the dirt."
Salef laughed, turning to leave. "We'll see about that. See you around, genius."
As the shop door closed behind him, Hectore stared at the trapdoor leading to his workshop below, lost in thought. He muttered to himself, "The Infinite Arena, huh? Maybe it's time to see what these hands can really do."
Salef was running hime and immediately opened the door. "Hey Sis i am back"
He opened the door to the house and Grafis was sitting on the chair while she watched and Arena match on her Scroll.
She lifted her head up and saw that it was her brother who suddenly opened the door. "You're mean"
She muttered and Salef stood there frozen like a stone statue. "What did i do?"
"You didn't come early, it's almost evening and i am waiting for you so we can eat dinner together" She said with a pouty expression but her blue eyes were sparkling mischievously.
Salef closed the door behind him and then he arrived in front of her. "My little sister, i have found out what my skills are"
"Stop dodging the conversation"