As soon as Alex poured his mana into the [Skill Creator Scroll], a strange force surged through his body.
He didn’t have time to react before his vision blurred and his surroundings shifted entirely.
In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in the same world.
His feet landed gently on something soft.
Looking down, he realized the ground was perfectly flat, white and smooth, broken up into thousands of tiny square tiles.
Each tile had a black outline, and the borders pulsed faintly with a soft blue glow, the light appearing and vanishing in a slow, rhythmic beat.
It wasn’t just the floor either, everything around him matched the same aesthetic.
Alex turned his head slowly, his eyes taking in the vast, endless white room.
It was like standing inside a massive cube where everything had been stripped of color, depth, and texture.
No windows. No ceiling. No shadows.
Just the illusion of infinite space defined by repeating black-outlined squares and a faint pulse that gave the entire place a surreal heartbeat.
“So this is the [Creation] space,” Alex muttered under his breath, breathing in slowly.
The air didn’t carry scent or temperature, it was just… there.
Floating panels suddenly shimmered into existence in front of him.
One by one, words began to form as if etched by invisible hands.
[Description: Use your imagination to create a new skill you’ll be able to use. Upon activation, you will be transported to the “Creation” space and be able to construct the new skill there.]
[Note: You must be able to PERFECTLY visualize the skill you want to create, its concept, mechanics, function, and structure. A single flaw in visualization may cause the process to fail and the scroll to disintegrate.]
[The more powerful the skill, the harder it will be to stabilize it. That is why the “Creation” space exists.]
[More information will become available upon entering. But be warned, once you begin, there is no return.]
Just as the final line faded, more panels appeared with a soft ding, like a notification sound echoing through a dream.
[You have entered the “Creation” room.]
[In this space, your thoughts will materialize before you, and you may even use them on a special dummy created to tank any attack.]
[You can use this feature to perfectly design the skill you wish to acquire, but do note that even though this might seem easy, the harder the skill you try to create, the less likely it is to actually work. Even if it does, you may confirm your choice only to realize that you made a mistake.]
[Once you test out a skill and think it might work, simply say “Confirm,” and the space will determine whether the skill is acceptable based on your thoughts.]
Alex exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly.
It didn’t seem that complicated, but he already understood the hidden weight behind those words.
One mistake, one vague idea or misunderstanding, and the scroll would be wasted.
He glanced to his right as a white humanoid dummy suddenly manifested in the distance.
It stood still, its body marked with red and blue lines crisscrossing its frame like glowing veins.
It was completely lifeless, but Alex could sense it was indestructible.
“Okay,” Alex muttered, slowly pacing forward, “It’s all about my imagination, and how clearly I can see the skill in my head.”
That, he quickly realized, was easier said than done.
Two things immediately came to mind.
The first, Astolf’s skeletal hands.
He had seen them plenty of times, massive hands made of bone, bursting from the earth with terrifying precision.
He knew how they looked, how they moved, how they grabbed and crushed anything in their path.
Focusing his mind, Alex imagined the scene in full detail, fleshless fingers stretching, joints clicking, and the sound of bone grinding against bone as they surged forward.
Suddenly, fwish!
A dozen skeletal hands burst from the ground around him, made of pale ivory and lined with faint, ghostly cracks.
They rose slowly, swaying like creatures waiting for a command.
[You are attempting to use “Skeletal Hands.”]
Alex didn’t hesitate.
He raised his arm and pointed toward the dummy.
“Attack.”
With that single word, the bone hands lunged forward.
Five of them clamped down on the dummy’s limbs and torso, dragging it down.
Others piled in, smashing and tearing until the mannequin was a pile of shredded pieces.
Seconds later, the pieces reformed automatically, the dummy resetting like nothing had happened.
Alex scratched his chin thoughtfully.
The skill worked here, and it made sense, it was something he’d seen repeatedly and understood well.
But even then…
“This space helps you visualize it,” he murmured, “But just because it works here doesn’t mean it’ll work out there, especially if I missed something.”
He knew better than to rush.
Just to test how far he could go, he tried something more ambitious.
Alex closed his eyes again.
This time, he thought of death, not metaphorical, but literal. A single touch.
A hand so drenched in power that anything it touched would die instantly.
As he opened his eyes, dark, shadowy aura began to engulf his hands, flickering like dying flames.
“Oh…?” He blinked, surprised.
It was working. He walked up to the dummy, extended his arm, and touched its chest.
Instantly, the dummy collapsed, dead.
[You are attempting to use “Death Touch.”]
For a moment, Alex didn’t move.
The power behind that was terrifying, and yet, he had never seen it before, not directly.
Only heard about it from Kaelios, who once mentioned the [God of Death] could kill with a single touch.
Another panel popped up.
[Warning! You do not understand the way this skill works, meaning that it may function now, but there is absolutely no chance it would actually grant it to you.]
[This will be your first and only warning. From now on, you are alone.]
Alex sighed, “Knew it.”
The [Creation] space showed him what he thought the skill would look like, but if he didn’t truly understand it, it was just smoke and mirrors.
And worse, it could trick him into thinking it would work, until he confirmed and lost the scroll for nothing.
He discarded the idea immediately.
From there, he tested out everything he could think of.
Skills from enemies he had fought, powers he had seen only once, and terrifying abilities that had scarred his mind from earlier battles.
He tried to recreate the [Sword of Hatred], the black blade the [Hatred Demon] had once wielded to cut through entire armies.
He tried [Perfect Nightmare], the illusion-based skill used by the [Guardian of Nightmares] to summon a flawless copy of an enemy, terrifyingly strong and lifelike.
He even attempted the [Sword of Darkness], the massive, abyssal blade used by the [God of Darkness] to nearly erase him from existence.
But all of them failed.
Sometimes they would manifest, but he’d realize midway through that he didn’t truly understand how they worked.
Sometimes they wouldn’t even form at all.
And other times, his instincts screamed at him to stop before it was too late.
The [Sword of Hatred], for example, looked powerful, but the demon himself had told Alex it would lead nowhere.
“Why?” Alex had asked. “It seems insanely strong.”
“It is,” the demon had replied, “But it’s not meant for you, it won’t bring you anything.”
That warning was burned into Alex’s memory, and his instincts confirmed it.
The [Sword of Darkness] was even worse.
The image was in his mind, but whenever he tried to recreate it, his hands would burn, and the weapon would vanish before fully forming.
There were just too many limitations.
He tried inventing something entirely new, but without any frame of reference, those skills collapsed on themselves immediately.
Hours passed.
At some point, he stopped counting how many skills he had tested and failed.
He sat on the white floor, leaning against nothing, the empty walls around him pulsing in and out with their soft glow.
“This is harder than I thought…” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
But then, a spark. A thought. Something clicked. His eyes slowly widened.
“Wait…” he whispered, breathing just a little faster, “There is one skill that fits everything.”
Something he had seen recently.
Something he understood, not entirely, but enough. It was powerful. Dangerous. But not impossible to recreate.
His heart began to race.
“If this doesn’t work… then nothing will.”
Standing back up, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.
Slowly, he raised his hand, focusing all of his thoughts, all of his mana, and all of his visualization into one clear, perfect image.
A skill. One final attempt.
As the space around him began to distort, light pulsing faster, a shape began to take form in front of him, slowly, steadily, as if responding to the certainty in his mind.
He was ready. And this time… it just might work.