Skill Hunter: A LitRPG Adventure, page 27
From the depths of the Abyss, a keening cry echoed across the walls, almost sad. A baying, barking ruckus answered it, a dozen rollicking creatures sounding out all at once.
Down there… That’s where the Abyss truly begins. I need to be in top shape before I enter there. He looked at his hand. It was mostly healed. The long, arching, lightning-shaped scar that crawled from hand to wrist, to back, to his foot remained, but most of his flexibility and strength had returned. On the other hand, his mana wavered low. Most of what he’d recovered from Rosamund had been spent to heal his hand.
Ike thought for a second. He looked over his shoulder, toward Rosamund’s body, then at the head at his side. I’d be a fool to head down there this low on mana. I’ll camp here for a few days. He had water and wolf meat, and he could forage in this greenery for something else to eat. Tomorrow, he could check the head to see if his experiment worked. If it did, he’d be able to easily farm mana right here. As for the body, it wasn’t as if he’d get any more mana by visiting every day. No one else knew how to process that black sludge, assuming anyone jumped into the Abyss in the first place. He could safely leave it for a few days, then return once a significant quantity had accumulated.
He licked his lips, grinning at the forest. All this land, and no one else dared to enter. No one but him, stuck in the Abyss. The unspoiled, monster-rich land before him looked like a treasure chest to him—a treasure chest overflowing with rare monsters and powerful skills.
Reaching into his bag, he drew out Orin’s guide. Based on the way the wolves jumped down here, I can safely assume that at least some of the Abyss monsters are descended from monsters that fell or jumped in. Orin’s guide should prove invaluable for those monsters.
As for the ones that have lived down here since before Orin started hunting… I’ll simply have to stay on my guard.
The Abyss had a reputation for being dangerous, even inescapable. Based on what Ike knew about monsters, rightfully so. The monsters down here had been able to spend thousands of years growing stronger in the depths of the Abyss, far away from humans or any hunters. He couldn’t take them lightly. The hunts he was about to embark on would be the most dangerous he’d undertaken yet.
I’ll have to move slowly. Choose my battles carefully. But if I play my cards right, I can come out the other side of this more powerful than any hunter left hunting the sparse grounds near the city.
A howl echoed from nearby, too close for comfort. Ike stiffened. He looked up. Is that the Fulgur-Loup that came down here with me? The silver wolf. It left me alone today, so I thought it was too injured to hunt.
Come to think of it, though, I slept next to Rosamund’s body last night. That thing spooked me, let alone a monster as wary as a wolf. He looked over his shoulder, back the way he’d come, then shook his head. No. I’d only be wasting my energy. Instead of locking myself to sleeping near the body, I should deal with the wolf once and for all.
Tonight, it all comes to an end.
41
THE SILVER WOLF
Ike sat at the edge of the waterfall, reading Orin’s guide for a bit. At last, he stood up, brushing off his pants. Bustling around the edge of the waterfall, he set up his camp for the night. He put the side of the tent to the Abyss wall and the back to the dropoff, cutting off two ways the wolf might approach him. Looking at the tent, he nodded, then set off into the forest. Using the ruined sword, he hacked down little trees, then used his razor to whittle their ends to points. Those he planted in the ground along the broadside of his tent. He set them in the ground at a forty-five degree angle so their pointed ends stuck out away from the tent.
Ike stepped back, surveying his work. He brushed one of the angled sticks, and it nearly toppled. Clicking his tongue, he knelt to dig it in deeper. With only his primitive tools, he didn’t want to waste the time and effort to set the sticks deep enough to actually be a threat, let alone a defense, but that wasn’t the point. Dogs balked at strange things. Something like a wall of spikes should be more than enough to get the wolf’s primitive brain to hesitate.
And if it isn’t… I’ll have a lot of stitching ahead of me to fix the tent.
Moving away from the sharpened sticks, he wandered through the undergrowth, gathering up dried twigs and leaves. Kicking his way through the brambles, he returned to his campsite. He walked around the tent, scattering the twigs and leaves in the undergrowth, where they wouldn’t be seen but would be heard. The side of the tent up against the wall and the drop didn’t need twigs. Ike peered over the edge of the waterfall. The slate stone clunked together in loose piles down the wall, noisier than his leaves and twigs would be. If the wolf approached by climbing the waterfalls, he’d hear it slip on the loose stones. As for the wall… Ike snorted under his breath. If it comes at me from that direction, I’m fucked. But if it’s smart enough to do that, I’m probably fucked anyway.
I can’t ignore the possibility that it’s as smart as Silver. Or at least somewhere on that scale. If it is… Ike stood up, dusting off his hands. He gazed out into the Abyss, into the tangled mess of trees and mist. If it is that smart, then maybe I gain something more valuable than a skill tonight.
With all his traps set up, the wolf would only have one option: dead ahead, into the front of the tent. There, Ike set up his final trap. This one took the most time and effort of all his traps, but it was the most crucial piece. The only part that mattered.
All that’s left is to wait for night.
With the help of Orin’s guide, Ike foraged a handful of roots, fruits, and vegetables. It wasn’t enough to fill up, but supplemented with his wolf jerky, it was enough to fill his stomach. The sun was low, the day winding down. He packed up his gear and kicked some ashes over the fire, retiring to his tent.
Rosamund looked up as he entered, perched atop his bag as usual. As he settled down to sleep, her eyes flared, and a vicious grin crossed her face.
“Wake up, you peasant! How dare you sleep with me so close to—”
Ike cracked open an eye. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his old, filthy shirt and stuffed it into Rosamund’s mouth. An aghast look crossed her face, and she tried to spit it out, but he quickly tied it in place. He shook his head at her disappointedly. “I don’t want to do this, you know? You made me do this.”
Her face twisted. Her jaw worked and muffled sound came from behind the gag, but it was stifled enough Ike could ignore it. It was almost comforting to fall asleep to the muffled sound of someone else screaming. Just like the villa. Ike unwound, able to fully relax for the first time in a long time, and snoozed away.
Day passed to night. Sometime around midnight, Ike woke up. Nothing crinkled, nor did any wolf howl. He’d simply gone to sleep so early that he was wide awake now.
He drew his good sword from under his pillow and waited, crouched in the tent. Rosamund lay quietly in the corner, her eyes shut. A cold wind blew. Outside, clouds scudded across the moon. The half-moon lit the scene in pale silver light, just bright enough for Ike to see. The low undergrowth rustled, as if alive. White mist swirled in the vines and curled through the dark leaves.
He waited. The moon traveled across the sky. The leaves danced. His eyes darted left to right, scanning the scene from behind the flaps of his tent.
Crunch.
Ike tensed. He searched the dark undergrowth more ferociously than ever but made nothing out. Still too far. Still hidden. I have to—
Abruptly, he caught sight of a pair of pale eyes, hovering like moons in the undergrowth. The wolf stepped forward, emerging from the mist as though it had been formed from it. Head low, all but scraping over the vines, the wolf stalked forward, eyeing Ike’s tent.
Hidden in the shadows, behind the tent’s loose-hanging flaps, Ike watched the wolf. The two of them watched one another, waiting, calculating. The hairs on the back of Ike’s neck stood up.
It knows that I’m a threat, and it’s trying to figure out what I did. It might not be as smart as Silver, but it’s damn smart.
Abruptly, the wolf leaped forward. Ike’s eyes widened. He held his breath, freezing where he crouched. Come on! Go for it!
42
HUNT, HUNTED
The wolf leaped toward the tent’s flaps. Ike tensed, watching it drop toward the space outside the tent. Toward his final trap.
It slammed its feet down, inches before his trap. Its paws slid through the undergrowth. Its forepaws struck the edge of the pit Ike had dug, knocking the sticks and leaves he’d set over the pit into the depths. Its back feet skidded toward the edge, front paws already falling in. Desperately, it braced its front paws against the wall and backstepped with its back paws, coming to a halt just outside the pit.
Ike leaped out of the tent, his sword already flashing out. Internally, he gritted his teeth. Even with his Rank 1 strength and speed, it had taken considerable time to dig a pit he’d been comfortable calling deep enough to hold the wolf. Dirt stained his hands and collected under his fingernails. The wolf hip bones he’d used to dig it laid to the side, worn and scratched from the effort. And yet, the beast had seen through it at the last second and caught itself.
I still put it off balance. I still gained an advantage! His sword flew forth.
The wolf growled. It dropped into the pit rather than take the hit. Ike slashed the air and struck down, barely avoiding tumbling into the pit himself. He looked down.
The wolf stood at the bottom of the pit. The stakes he’d set there lay on the ground, kicked over by the wolf. Lustrous moon-silver eyes gazed up at him. It opened its mouth and yawned, exaggeratedly.
“Is this boring to you?” Ike asked mockingly.
The wolf lowered its head and sneezed. It turned around, barely able to fit in the small pit.
“That’s right. Sit there and give me your skill,” Ike said. He grabbed one of the pointed stakes from beside the tent and lifted it.
Before he could throw it, the wolf leaped. It hit the wall inches below the lip and slid back down, unable to jump high enough.
Ike sighed. Thank goodness. It is deep enough—
Lowering itself to a crouch, the wolf leaped up. Its front paws latched onto the edge of the pit, and it scrambled with its back paws, searching for purchase. It found grip and kicked, propelling itself toward Ike at speed. Lightning flickered around its body, lighting up the dark around it.
Ike leaped back. His back struck the tent. The wolf opened its mouth and bit at his neck. He jerked his sword up, barely catching the wolf’s bite on the flat of the blade. The wolf jumped back, landing on the far side of the pit.
Ike pushed away from the tent, lowering his stance. The wolf regarded him from the other end of the pit, lowering its head. It growled warily, silver eyes watching him.
“Come on,” Ike said, gesturing it on.
The wolf crouched, then leaped, flying over the pit. A muscular, furry body shot at Ike. The boy sliced at it with his sword, but the second his weapon made contact, a blast of electricity shot off the wolf’s fur and down to his wrist. The sword flew away, vanishing into the pit, and the wolf dropped toward Ike.
The wolf slammed into Ike and knocked him onto his back, into his tent. His tent crumpled. Growling, the wolf bit at his neck.
Ike activated his sensory skill, and suddenly, the wolf moved in slow motion. Mustering all of his strength, he slapped the wolf in the jaw, knocking its head to the side. Its bite went wide, missing his throat.
The wolf growled. Jerking its head back, it struck at his neck again. Even though he was prepared for the attack, Ike barely threw his arms between them in time. The wolf’s fangs dug into his forearms. Blood dripped down onto his face. He glared at the wolf, not giving an inch. Forget it. You aren’t killing me tonight.
The two struggled in the ruins of the tent. The wolf bit and clawed, and Ike grabbed at it, trying to pin it down. Blood ran down Ike’s arms and face as the wolf scored a few minor wounds, streaking over the tent’s walls. The wolf tumbled into the tent and tangled up in its downed ties. Ike threw himself at the wolf, flipping it onto its back. He pinned it down at its neck and threw his weight onto its body. The wolf struggled but couldn’t throw him off. He’d caught it.
Ike caught his breath. Turning his head, he wiped his sweat on his sleeve, then nodded at it. “You’re smart, aren’t you? You know what’s going on here.”
The wolf watched him silently. One of its ears flicked back, then forward.
“I don’t need your skill anymore. I needed it to mask my lightning skill, but now, that doesn’t matter. Rosamund knows, and I’m in the Abyss. No one’s coming after me. Rather than your skill, I’d much rather have you. A hunting dog.” Besides, I can probably craft something like its skill using my Unique skill if I have enough time and mana. Compared to having a skilled hunting companion, the skill is much less useful.
The wolf bared its teeth. It growled.
“Or I can kill you and take your skill. Your choice,” Ike said, looking down at it.
Silence. Silver eyes regarded him. The wolf licked its lips.
Ike waited. Come on. I want a dog. Dogs can be trusted. Dogs are great. Come on, be my dog!
43
I WANT A DOG
The wolf squirmed in his grasp, trying to wriggle free. The thick, loose fur around its neck gave it some wiggling room, and its eyes widened. It twisted harder than before. Ike’s grasp slipped.
The wolf scrambled, but before it broke away, Ike grabbed it again. He wrestled it back under him and tightened his hold. “Hey! None of that. You break free, that’s it. You die. Become my dog instead! I’ll feed you well.”
Falling still, the wolf looked at him from the corner of its eyes. The silver gleamed in the moonlight.
“Think about it. You’re a pack hunter. I’m offering you a pack. Are you really going to hold a grudge, even down here? Far away from your pack? And come on. I didn’t hurt you. You attacked me, missed, and fell into the Abyss. That isn’t my fault.”
The wolf paused. It snorted, letting out a big breath of air. Reaching up a paw, it patted Ike’s shoulder.
“You giving in?” Ike asked. He leaned back a little, getting a look at the wolf’s face.
Its nose was no longer wrinkled. Its eyes gazed straight ahead. Its head lay against the ground, tired. As he watched, it swallowed and snorted again, not a hint of fight in its behavior.
Slowly, Ike loosened his grasp. He didn’t release it entirely, ready to attack again at any moment. The wolf rolled belly-up, showing its pale stomach fur.
I know what that means. It’s submitted. I’m its leader now. Ike rubbed its belly. The wolf gave him a surprised look and kicked, rolling back onto its feet. It stepped away but couldn’t go far with the pit right there. Clearly uncomfortable, it backed away from both Ike and the pit, but that meant stepping onto the flattened tent. Its paw touched canvas, and it recoiled, shaking that paw as if something stuck to it.
Ike glanced at the pit. He lifted his lip at the sight of the knocked-over spikes at its bottom. I didn’t think those things would kill the wolf. I was just hoping to weaken it. Still, they sure did a whole lot of nothing, huh? Next time, he’d have to set them deeper.
The sword also lay at the bottom of the pit. Ike eyed it, then looked at the wolf. It regarded him warily, still uncertain. It’s still a monster, too. I can’t move thoughtlessly, or I might provoke it into attacking. “You going to stick around?”
The wolf backed up, kicking Ike’s tent out of the way, then leaped over the pit and ran off into the night.
“I guess not.” Ike stared after it, not quite certain of what’d just happened. At the very least, he’d established that he was stronger than it. It shouldn’t bother him anymore. As to whether it would come back or not, that was a different question.
He shook his head. “Too bad I don’t have a rope to tie it up.” All the materials he had were derived from the wolf that had died from the fall, and that didn’t strike him as a good idea to use to tie up the wolf he wanted to befriend. His ragged clothes, in his bag, would shred the second the wolf pulled at them.
Then again, if it’s as intelligent as Silver—or close to that—then it might have understood what I said. In that case, it might need some room to think about my proposition. Even if it’s only as intelligent as a beast, it still understood that I forced it to submit—that I’m stronger than it. It shouldn’t attack me again.
He smiled at its back. But I have a feeling it’s coming back.
The wolf vanished in the pale moonlight, and Ike shrugged before checking his pack. I still have some non-wolf jerky from town. When it comes back, I’ll try bribing it with some of that.
Night passed into day. Ike dozed in the ruins of his tent, unable to get a good, heavy sleep with the wolf nearby. It didn’t attempt to attack him again, but nonetheless, his instincts wouldn’t allow him to fully relax. When the sun rose, a groggy Ike wiped the sleep off his face and climbed out of the crumpled tent. He turned slowly and took it all in.
In front of him, the ruined pit trap stretched, its covering branches dangling over the hole, the spike toppled in its depths. Behind him, the tent lay in a slumping pile.
Ike sighed. He started packing up the tent. No point leaving it on the far side of the pit, at least right now. When he finished packing the tent, he turned to Rosamund’s head. He dislodged the stone on top and peered inside.
Thick globs of dark fluid, almost as much as had been in her head on the first day. Ike lifted his brows. Impressive. I’ll have to keep filling it up with lunam.
Ike closed her head up again. Weaving out of the campsite’s defenses, he grabbed a few vines and tied them together into a makeshift net. He placed the pan beneath it and propped her head in the net, upright.
