Chapter 345 Berserk Terror
Tank stomped around in victory for a moment, then drew his axes and swung at the air, savouring his new ability before transforming back.
"It's called [Berserk Terror] and it's a full transformation ability." He cheered, pulling Karl into a hug and spinning him in circles.
"I'm glad you like it. Now that we know it really works, I need to make more of those books, and we have at least one or two more people to try it on today."
Tank laughed. "I want to see what happens when you do it to a Werebear as well."
"I'm glad we understand each other."
Karl quickly worked to make two more copies of both books, and then called Ophelia over from where she was chatting with Lotus and Dana about something, while Tessa napped on top of Thor. If anything happened, he would wake her up.
"What's up? Have you been teaching Berserkers to read? That's a noble endeavour, but not really necessary." She joked.
"Here, first, try to use this. If it doesn't work, try to use it while enraged." Karl explained.
Ophelia opened the first book and immediately shifted into bear form as it vanished. She looked confused for a moment, and then picked up the other book, apparently thinking she had dropped it during the transformation. The second one vanished, and her Werebear form surged in size, still the same three metres that she had been under the effects of Brutality before, but now with metallic claws and teeth, and fur that looked more wiry and less fluffy. Like Tank, her eyes had gone completely black, and her roar shook the ground.
This one didn't startle the students as much, but Karl could see them backing away.
Ophelia looked positively feral, and her eyes landed on Tank, seeing a challenge.
"Nope. We started with the Berserkers, as it seemed like the logical option. They are the ones that need more combat damage."
The white robed cleric was giving Karl a suspicious look as he stared down at the two books with their blood-red covers.
"Well, they are red, at least. But why do I get the feeling that it won't have any bearing on who is actually able to use these them? Could your skill actually be to make ultra-selective skill books that only work for the person you first handed them to?" He muttered.
"You know, you might be on to something. I make the skill books because I think that the skill I have might work for someone in particular. So, when they're passed on to someone else, the meaning is lost, and it's all up to compatibility with a skill that they had probably never considered or trained towards.
For the Blue Dragon Priests, their patron is an evolved form of a Divine Beast that uses lightning, so it's natural that they would. But a beast's lightning and a shaman or wizard's lightning aren't the same thing, so it's only natural that they wouldn't understand the concept as well.
You don't expect just anyone who can use fire to be able to use Dragon Breath." Karl suggested.
The cleric was going to open his mouth and say something about how the idea was ridiculous, as the Dragons were the noblest of the Divine Beasts, but that would bring him right back to Karl's point. That they were beasts, so you couldn't expect others to easily learn their skills.
"Alright, I will take these to the Inscriptionists, so they can add them to the archives and make copies for anyone who wants to try to use them. There are a whole class full of them here on the front line, as the Academy sent everyone with Ascended Rank or higher combat power, so there should be copies ready by tomorrow." The High Priest announced, satisfied that he had gathered enough answers about what they were doing over here, scaring students with their roaring.
That left Karl and the others alone on the line again, staring at empty fields, the earth torn up by the attacks of the Hill Giants and the recent battles.
Tank was right, they were going to come back, especially after taunting them like that with their dead leader strung up for all to see. But it might not be soon. They had failed this attack, so they wouldn't take a hasty approach to the next one. In fact, Karl thought that they might focus on other sections of the line for the next few days, just in case they were weaker than the student portion, which might have seemed like an easy target because of their ages.
But as an additional torture to go with the waiting, the wind was blowing from behind them, bringing the smell of roast pig from the camp to the line and making everyone's mouth water with anticipation for what the kitchen was going to turn out for lunch today.
With the attack, it almost felt like a victory dinner and not a birthday brunch, but that was an improvement, in a way. Celebrating the day you were born was fun. But celebrating the days you didn't die was much more meaningful.