In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

A vague unease crept over him as he stared at the glowing dot, noticing something odd: smaller black specks surrounded it.

Being a member of the Black Hawk Clan, Bulak's sharp eyesight allowed him to discern details others would have missed. The small specks were maintaining a precise formation, orbiting the central light in what seemed to be a protective pattern.

At first, he thought they might be a flock of birds. Yet, their orderly movement and their synchronized formation felt too unnatural for mere animals.

As the formation drew nearer, Bulak realized these weren't ordinary creatures. The central light reflected off something: wings, shimmering as if polished to a metallic gleam.

"Could it be a migration of beasts? But… beasts of different species moving together, in such numbers? That's impossible…."

Staring blankly at the strange procession, Bulak felt his anxiety deepen. The closer they came, the more certain he became: this wasn't natural.

A chill ran down his spine. Someone, somewhere, had dared to invade the great Pamir Empire.

Bulak spun around, intending to warn the capital of the impending danger. But before he could take a step, he froze.

A towering knight, mounted on a massive beast, blocked his path.

The aura radiating from the knight was icy and suffocating. His mere presence left Bulak paralyzed, unable to move.

Before Bulak could fully process the situation, the knight's cold, glowing eyes locked onto his.

In a flash, the knight's arm moved with supernatural speed. The blade he unsheathed gleamed in the darkness, a metallic arc that sliced through the air with an eerie whistle.

"Khrrk…!"

Bulak collapsed without so much as a cry. Blood spilled onto the ground as his body, cleaved in two, crumpled like a broken doll. His armor, though forged of the strongest steel, was no match for the knight's sword.

The knight, Aron, casually flicked the blood from his blade and glanced down at the fallen commander. His expression was devoid of pity or emotion.

"This one was too weak," Aron muttered, clicking his tongue in disappointment. He had expected more from the leader of a Black Hawk Clan fortress.

The massive beast beneath him, Behemoth, growled.

[Maybe he wasn't weak—you're just too strong. Admit it, you wanted to hear that, didn't you? And don't forget, it's thanks to me that we infiltrated so quietly.]

"Fine, fine, I get it," Aron replied, raising a hand in mock surrender. "Let's finish this quickly and rejoin the others. Remember what happened last time? Rebecca spent hours yelling after we got separated."

Behemoth snorted but didn't argue. With a powerful leap, the beast propelled itself over the fortress wall, blending seamlessly into the shadows. Aron followed close behind, his sword poised and ready.

The two moved with deadly precision. Soldiers patrolling the walls were oblivious to the approaching danger, yawning or casually chatting as they made their rounds.

Behemoth struck first. The massive shadow loomed over a soldier, and with a swift motion, the soldier's head separated from his body. The lifeless corpse fell silently to the ground.

Aron didn't hesitate. Before the dead man's comrade could process what had happened, Aron's blade pierced his heart. The soldier collapsed, blood pooling beneath him as Aron pulled his sword free.

Blood sprayed into the air as Aron dispatched his next target, each strike as fluid and precise as the last. His movements were swift and lethal, leaving no room for error or counterattack.

Meanwhile, Behemoth charged through the fortress with ruthless efficiency. Its claws tore through armor like paper, and its jaws crushed bones with ease. Soldiers scrambled to react, but Behemoth gave them no chance.

Within moments, the fortress walls were littered with the bodies of its defenders.

Aron leaped from the wall, entering the fortress proper. Those who realized something was wrong screamed and tried to flee, but Aron cut them down without mercy.

"Where do you think you're going?" he called out, his voice cold and menacing. "This place is your grave."

The sound of his voice sent shivers down the spines of the fleeing soldiers. Even Behemoth paused to chuckle, its maw curling into what could only be described as a smirk.

[Stop showing off and finish them already. Don't forget our bet!]

Annoyed by the interruption, Aron sighed but resumed the slaughter. Behemoth, too, turned its focus back to the terrified soldiers, tearing through them with brutal efficiency.

By the time Aron delivered the final blow to the last soldier, the fortress had been reduced to a blood-soaked ruin.

Aron flicked the blood from his blade once more, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. Behemoth, equally pleased, lumbered over to him, a smug expression in its glowing eyes.

[I killed three more than you. Don't forget our wager—gold.]

Aron glanced at Behemoth and patted its mane.

"Of course, of course. You think I'd break a promise at my age?"

Behemoth, seemingly pleased with Aron's words and touch, narrowed its eyes in satisfaction. Together, they scoured the fortress thoroughly, ensuring no one had survived to spread word of their infiltration.

By dawn, the pair would reunite with the main force and advance toward the imperial capital, Pamilian, without alerting the empire to their movements.

The Crassus floated in the night sky, a gleaming phantom slicing through the heavens. Its pristine, alabaster exterior radiated an aura of both elegance and overwhelming presence.

The cannons mounted along its flanks and its reinforced steel hull made one thing clear—this was no mere airship. Modeled after ancient magical warships, Crassus had been reborn in Leonardo's hands, a true mobile fortress in the skies.

Surrounding it, hundreds of aerial beasts flew in synchronized formation. Each creature, unique in form and size, beat its powerful wings to escort the Crassus.

This formidable escort comprised beasts brought by the mighty warriors accompanying the expedition, those under Michael's special operations units, and others subdued by Marcus and Miaomiao during their passage over the Argo Mountains.

Each of these creatures was a living weapon, armored in impenetrable scales and armed with razor-sharp fangs.