[Thanks to Ian <3 (6/6)]

"HAHA! My stage has come!"

A boisterous laughter that should probably come from a War Lord instead of a Crafter echoed.

A young man wearing beast skins kicked a door open with a foot and brought half the house down as a result.

"Talon! You son of a bitch! Didn't I tell you-"

The laughter drowned out the rest of the spiel. Talon couldn't be bothered to listen, his laughter causing what remained of the home to shake on its foundations as though it might collapse at any moment.

Talon was huge. He stood at over two meters tall, had boulders for shoulders and a round belly that seemed made of iron. Despite his round belly, when he breathed, one could see the visible striations of his abs.

His entire body was coated in crimson runes that took the shape of tiger stripes, and every time he roared with laughter, they would greedily suck up the Force in the surroundings.

This young man was a member of the Barbarian Race. They were a Race of beings who couldn't form their own Nodes or Nodal Pathways. In fact, they didn't have an Ethereal Glabella either, and some speculated that they didn't even have souls in the natural sense.

It was hard to guarantee such things because the Barbarian Race wasn't one to experiment. They didn't care about the details. All they knew was that the more they ate and fought, the stronger they got.

And that was indeed how it worked.

The Barbarian Race might not have any Nodes, but that was because all the Force they absorbed went directly into their flesh and blood.

The purest of the Barbarian Race were essentially walking wrecking balls.

he would have been endlessly fascinated by this race... because in effect, they

to

why they were a Race of Demi-Gods. Only existences of such strength were worth such

yet, it was this young man who was excited

going to be the

up! You're

"A Barbarian Crafter!"

from somewhere within the broken house, but it disintegrated the

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

**

"I have to go."

this is too dangerous. Our Dwarven Race has had a Dream Pavilion to protect us all this while and we barely managed to survive the culling without it.

Dwarven Race stood with his jaw clenched and his expression determined. Despite his small size, he was

young prince of the Trapping

next? Our Crafting skill is our best asset, and it's currently what's protecting our lands from the invaders trying to

been stuck in this Bubble for too long, trying to make progress alone because we are too

are wrong in making this choice. We are, indeed, weak. However, now that we have a

"I must go."

too great. His son might not make it back for a reason that might be as ridiculous as looking

I tried my best. I think

right for anyone to suffer through... I will fight for something better for me, for

**

the fourth time that day already. It had already been a while since that battle, but he

it was out of fear or some sick, twisted love

even react much, and that was despite the fact he was a rare genius capable of placing well in both events. He

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