Skill Hunter: A LitRPG Adventure, page 46
In a few seconds, he’d recharged his mana stores. Ike continued drawing the mana in. He sank into his inner space, focusing on the shape of the largest Lightning Clad skill he’d successfully created so far. He added the shape of the proto-Lightning Clad (Torso) skill alongside the successful Lightning Clad skill. Even in its proto-form, the torso skill had so many more supports than the thigh skill. Compared to the thigh skill, he’d have to spend twice the mana per the space the skill took up on his body. On top of that, the torso version covered his torso—an area twice as big as either thigh. He grimaced. That’s going to take so much mana to create.
Good thing I’ve got a ton of mana to burn!
He drew up the torso skill again, mapping it to his body. Instantly, the skill started to collapse. Drawing in more mana, he forcibly propped the skill up. It trembled, barely holding on. The barest, thinnest lines of lightning swirled around his body. A few more seconds. Just a little longer!
The skill held on for another breath, then collapsed. Ike checked his skills, but already knew he wouldn’t see it there. That wasn’t the true form of Lightning Clad (Torso). Those sad strands of lightning don’t count as a true Clad. There’s still something wrong with the base form of the skill.
He drew the skill across his body again and threw his mana into it. This time, he didn’t try to keep the skill going. Instead, he paid close attention to where the skill grew thin and where it shattered. Where the mana branched off the main flow and grew thinner, it was far more likely to shatter. He thickened the flows. The skill stabilized. As it stabilized, the lightning around his body grew thicker and denser, until it finally matched the density of the other Lightning Clad skills.
Ike let out a breath. Structurally, the skill seemed fine now. All he had to do was focus on holding it for longer, and it ought to show up on his skill list before long.
He put activating the torso skill on autopilot and turned his attention to the only part of him not yet Lightning Clad: his head.
Ike tentatively circulated mana into his head, feeling its flow. His head was the most complex of all the regions of his body so far, in terms of mana flows. His torso had the most mana flows, but they were relatively straightforward. When it came to his head, the mana flows were delicate. Not only that, but they whirled all around. Delicate and unpredictable. Compared to the other regions of his body, his head was also more critical. If he severely wounded his head, it was game over. Salamander Healing couldn’t heal a wound that instantly killed him.
Not that any of the Lightning Clad skills have injured me yet. But it’s something I need to be more careful of now than ever.
He considered using the form of one of his other Lightning Clad skills to create the head version, but quickly dismissed the idea. It was okay if he made a mistake or two with his arm or torso. He couldn’t afford the same for his head. Instead, he turned his gaze down to Lightning Dash. The original skill, from which all the other lightning-based skills flowed. From his feet to his head.
Looking at the Lightning Dash skill now, it was so obvious how its shape formed the flow of its mana. The swirly construct that created the electricity. The straight lines piping mana to the core constructs.
I don’t want this skill to flow through the center of my head the way it flows through the center of all my limbs. I want it to flow around my head. Create a… a helm. He considered the skill again, then waved his hand, replicating it. Ike attached the two skills at a right angle, then waved his hand again, replicating the right-angle join. Rotating that angle around, he joined the two corners together into a square. At the top, he pinched the tops together into a sharp point, then shaped it into more of a dome with his hands. After all, the skill is called “clad,” not “body.” As long as it’s around me, it matches the skill’s name.
Rather than immediately put the skill outline on his head, he held it in his mental space first. Pouring mana into it, he followed his usual process of trial and error. When it exploded, he shored up the weakest places. When it burst apart, he wove the pieces closer together. Over and over. Adding new flows. Merging the existing ones. It shattered over and over, but Ike simply drew in more mana and started again. I refuse to give up. I’m going to make this skill, no matter what!
The more times he reformed it, the more solid it became. As he shored up all the breaks, the skill no longer shattered so easily. It held its form, but the mana still didn’t flow smoothly. Ike leaned in, examining the details of the mana flows. He unkinked the right edges and widened the primary flows. Pruned out unnecessary edges and lines. More mana. More smoothly. Molding and merging the edges until it became one solid thing, not four items pressed together.
The shape clicked together. A helm floated in his mind’s eye, stable, flickering with lightning. Ike materialized it and formed it over his head. At the same time, he activated all his Clad skills.
[Name: Ike | Age: 15 | Status: Nm | Rank: 1 [Abyss Dweller]]
Skills: Common: 5 | Bronze 2 | Silver 2 | Gold 1 | Rare 2 | … | Unique: 9
Common: All-Around Runner LVL 7 | Razor Handling LVL 9 | Spear Handling LVL 4 | Axe Handling LVL 4 | Sword Handling LVL 8 | Bow Handling LVL 1 | Primitive Crafting LVL 7
Bronze: Sensory Enhancement LVL 7 | Mana Manipulation LVL 4
Silver: Flurry of Kicks LVL 2 | Chlorophyll LVL 1
Gold: Shockwave Punch LVL 1
Rare: Salamander Healing LVL 9 | River-Splitting Sword LVL 5
Unique: Lightning Dash LVL 9 | Lightning Grasp LVL 6 | Lightning Clad (Forearm) LVL 5 | Lightning Clad (Calf) LVL 5 | Lightning Clad (Thigh) LVL 3 | Lightning Clad (Bicep) LVL 3 | Lightning Clad (Torso) LVL 1 | Lightning Clad (Helm) LVL 1 | Lightning Caller LVL 2
Purple lightning flickered over his entire body. All the skills began shining, brighter than they ever had before. They wrapped around him. Melded together. Energy swirled around him, the skills activating on their own, calling one another to greater heights. Mana drained out of him. He breathed it in constantly, feeding the skill. Even doused in mana as he was, he lost mana with every passing breath. The skill required an enormous expenditure of mana. More than anything he'd experienced yet. More than Lightning Caller or his strongest activation of any other skill.
The skill grew stronger and stronger. The purple light grew blindingly bright. The skills lifted off his body. Purple lightning swirled around him as they melded.
Overhead, stormclouds grew. Ike glanced upward, gritting his teeth. If this skill didn’t condense soon, he’d start leveling up Lightning Caller whether he liked it or not.
As if in response, the skill emitted a bright light, brighter than anything so far. It expanded hugely, then snapped into place, closing in around his body. A thin layer of lightning crackled over his entire body. He lifted his hands, turning them over to feel the lightning play over him. Compared to the usual skills, it felt smooth. All one. As if he’d returned it to his natural state.
He pulled up his skills list again, curious. The Clad skills weren’t all Level 9. Did they merge anyway?
[Name: Ike | Age: 15 | Status: Nm | Rank: 1 [Abyss Dweller]]
Skills: Common: 5 | Bronze 2 | Silver 2 | Gold 1 | Rare 2 | … | Unique: 4
Common: All-Around Runner LVL 7 | Razor Handling LVL 9 | Spear Handling LVL 4 | Axe Handling LVL 4 | Sword Handling LVL 8 | Bow Handling LVL 1 | Primitive Crafting LVL 7
Bronze: Sensory Enhancement LVL 7 | Mana Manipulation LVL 4
Silver: Flurry of Kicks LVL 2 | Chlorophyll LVL 1
Gold: Shockwave Punch LVL 1
Rare: Salamander Healing LVL 9 | River-Splitting Sword LVL 5
Unique: Lightning Dash LVL 9 | Lightning Grasp LVL 6 | Lightning Clad LVL 1 | Lightning Caller LVL 2
Ike laughed aloud. He punched the sky, excited. A bolt of lightning shot off from his fist and crackled upward. Startled, he lowered his fist, examining his hand. Is that a new side effect from Lightning Clad? I’ll have to play with it more.
It was curious how his Lightning Clad had merged without hitting Level 9, but his running skills hadn’t merged until they hit Level 9. Is it only a prerequisite for Common skills? Is it because the Lightning Clads were originally one skill, which I had to break into pieces to learn? Is it because it’s a Unique skill? Did I learn an inferior version of Lightning Clad?
He clapped, and thunder rolled from his palms. He grinned. It doesn’t feel inferior.
More mana swirled around him. Ike took a deep breath. Now that he’d merged the Clads into one Clad, he only had one goal remaining:
Time to rank up!
93
RANK-UP
Mana rushed into Ike with every breath. He circulated it into his core, reinforcing his body. The seven pillars in his core surged up, climbing toward their zenith. It was as if an invisible ceiling had vanished. His power climbed rapidly.
He looked at his arms. At the purple lightning flickering over them. Is it because I combined the Clad skills? I killed all those monsters, but I still didn’t rank up, even though I felt that mysterious power in my core. But I still didn’t rank up or feel this… openness. This ability to climb. Now that I’ve combined the Clad skills, though, it’s like there’s nothing holding me back. I can soar into the sky.
The seven pillars reached their full height. They shook, then snapped together. Just like the Clad skills, they combined into one. The single pillar grew up, up, up, pushing his core taller. As it grew taller, his core grew wider in equal measure. The walls of his core trembled, as delicate as a soap bubble. He sucked in mana. Pure mana poured into his core. The mana shored up the delicate walls and poured into his passages. The tsunami of mana burst open his passages, widening them as it passed. Mana seeped into his body. It enriched his muscles and bones. Filled every tendon and every ligament. Every inch of his body strengthened from the intense mana flow.
The more full his core became, the further it stretched. The soap bubble-like walls were delicate and easy to break, but they stretched easily, too. Ike kept a close eye on them as they grew. When they grew so thin that the bubble threatened to pop, he pushed on his core from outside, keeping it from stretching any larger. The core he’d stopped firmed up. It grew no larger. Instead, mana filled up the larger space.
All around him, the mana fog thinned. There was still plenty of room in his core for mana. No—his eyes widened. The soap-bubble parts of his core started to collapse, falling in on his core. Instantly, he realized that if he didn’t fill his core completely, it would become misshapen. He wouldn’t be able to fully progress to Rank 2, let alone Rank 3 or higher. He needed more mana.
Ike pulled out the spider’s fang and whirled around. He carved open the puppet behind him, dragging it toward the line of fire. More mana rushed into the fog. His core began to fill again. The soap bubble inflated once more. Its somewhat drooped shape rounded out.
There still wasn’t enough mana. His core remained mostly empty. He grabbed another puppet and tapped it, then another, then another. The mana flowed out and poured onto the fire. Thick mana clouded around him. His core filled slowly. As it filled, the walls solidified. A smooth, round orb encapsulated the pillar he’d grown in the heart of his core.
More mana. More. He desperately tapped the puppets, barely absorbing enough mana to keep the soap bubble from falling. More and more. He shored up the walls of his core as it filled, stabilizing it at the same fullness as the first small amount had stabilized at. Ten percent full. Twenty. Thirty. Mana steadily climbed the walls of his core, pooling in the bottom.
“Ike!”
He looked up.
Wisp stood in the trees above the valley, leaning out over the army. “They’re close. On their way. Be ready.”
“Thanks, Wisp. I’m almost done,” Ike said, smiling.
“Oh—oh! Ranking up, huh? You’re just casually talking in the middle of it? Bold of you,” Wisp commented.
“I’ve already done the hard part,” Ike commented.
“Huh. Well. Good luck.” She glanced over her shoulder, then vanished, darting into the trees.
Ike breathed deep. He sucked in mana faster than before. As rapidly as he could, he filled up his core and stabilized his walls. If the others came here while he was still actively ranking up, he wouldn’t be able to fight. Even the thought of pushing mana out of his delicate core made him wince. Right now, he was in the middle of the most important part of hitting the next rank. If anything went wrong, he’d not only miss out on Rank 2, but he’d miss out on every rank beyond 2 as well. Having a poorly formed core, or even one that didn’t grow large enough now, meant he’d never hit the next rank. If push came to shove, he’d have no option but to run. The sooner he finished his rank up, the safer he’d be.
Through the woods, he heard footsteps and voices. Ike drew another deep breath, sucking down all the mana he could. He stood up straight and crossed his arms. He desperately absorbed mana, but externally, he relaxed, as if nothing was wrong at all. Turning to face the voices, he smiled confidently.
“Look! Right over here, like I said—” Backing toward the valley, Tana came into view. She gestured behind her, then turned. Her jaw dropped.
Ike beamed up. He gave her a jaunty wave. “Hello, Tana.”
She gaped. “What are you doing here?”
His core continued to fill. Forty percent. Forty-five. “Not much. Just inspecting the puppets.” He patted the nearest puppet familiarly.
Tana flinched back. “Get out of there! It’s dangerous!”
Ike looked around. He shrugged. “It’s not so bad, honestly. They aren’t great conversationalists, but they don’t move much, either.”
“Is this what all the fearmongering was about?” An old man drew up to the edge of the valley and looked down with a scoff. “To hear you talk, we were on the verge of getting soulwiped by forces we couldn’t possibly stop. But these are no terrifying troops, here to snatch our souls. They’re oversized puppets.”
Ike glanced at the puppet next to him. His core filled to fifty percent. Fifty-five. Sixty. “They can be pretty nasty when they start moving. Trust me, you don’t want to be here when that happens.”
The man looked down at Ike. “And who are you?”
Ike looked around him. “I’d call myself the expert on these puppets, but I don’t think that’s quite right. Still, I know more about them than you do.”
Seventy percent. He breathed deeply, eyeing the group around Tana. It was mostly older men and women. Not all of them exuded the pressure of a mage, and the ones who did were generally around Rank 1. Tana herself was a little over Rank 1, and she was easily the strongest of all of them. If he wasn’t absorbing the mana right now, he’d be able to demolish the mages.
I just have to finish ranking up. Seventy-five percent. He edged closer to the fog, absorbing as much as he could with every breath.
“The expert? Are you the one who created these things?” one of the women shrilled.
“Look at him. He’s clearly aligned with them,” another man muttered, glaring down at Ike.
Ike pressed his lips together. All of them. A bunch of paranoid old fools. Were they once mages, on the surface? It seems losing their power has made them mad with the fear of what others might do to them with the power they once had.
This is going to be annoying.
94
PARANOID OLD PEOPLE
Ike’s core grew to eighty percent full. He eyed the progress, taking another big waft of the mana to speed it along. Just a little more. A little more, and then he could do whatever he needed to. He just needed to stall for another few minutes.
“So? What are you doing with those things? I knew the city lord wouldn’t plot against us,” the old man said, looking down at Ike with disgust.
“These are the city lord’s,” Ike said, as if it were obvious.
“If they are, then what are you doing with them?” the old man demanded.
Ike looked around him. He grinned. “Taking advantage of them?”
“They’re the city lord’s property, and you dare ‘take advantage’ of them?” the old man asked.
Ike shrugged. “What can I say? He hasn’t stopped me yet.”
To be honest, it did confuse him a little. He would have been surprised if the city lord was sensitive enough to sense one puppet being tapped, but he’d tapped dozens by now. He’d also activated the tree that protected the puppets. He’d definitely expected that to trigger the city lord and for him to come out and inspect the puppets at some point. If it had shut down his exploit, it was unfortunate, but he could always get by with Rosamund. But none of that had happened. The defenses were activated. He tapped dozens of puppets. And still no sign of the city lord.
Did he not set any traps that would trigger his attention? Does he not care? He didn’t know the answer. The first one seemed grossly inattentive, but then, he wasn’t a high-level mage. Maybe it was incredibly difficult to create a trap that alarmed when it was set off. Maybe there was something about the Abyss that prevented the alarm from escaping.
Not caring was truly the worse of the two option. It meant one of two things, each equally frightening. One, that the city lord had some extensive plan for him. This was all within the city lord’s purview. It was less likely, but absolutely horrifying. For a second, Ike let himself consider it: that everything he’d done was within the city lord’s plans for him. That all his actions were no more than dancing in the palm of the city lord’s hand.
Still, I doubt the city lord planned this deeply for some random slumrat who found one of his skills.
More likely, the city lord didn’t have a plan for him and didn’t care to the fullest extent. Not about Ike, not about the puppets, not about the Abyss—nothing. But why would he not care, unless… this army, which seemed so vast to Ike and the citizens of Abyssal, was but one tiny portion of the city lord’s true army. Unless it was a miniscule fraction of the puppets the city lord could call to his whim. So small relative to his true power that it didn’t matter if Ike tapped one, a dozen, all of them, because the city lord had so many that these barely even reflected in his eyes.
