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[Skill-Eater] Chapter 38: Conceal
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 17:23:01 +0000 UTCEdge shut out his awareness of the monsters converging on his position. Ignored the pounding of his heart and the electric cascade of adrenaline flowing through his veins.
He forced himself to look away, pouring every scrap of his attention into scanning the ground by his boots. There was no way that he could spot a beast using a stealth skill with his current perception. But that wasn’t the only way to figure out where it was.
He studied the layout of the intertwining branches and roots, looking for the perfect place for something small to hide. It will want to have some kind of cover over its head, and a way to see what’s happening outside.
Just as the reaver arrived at the other side of the bush and began circling around, he saw it. A gap under a thick root near his boot, with a bowl-shaped depression below.
Gambling that his guess was right, Edge didn’t hesitate.
Trying not to make a sound, he raised one foot and then brought his boot down hard, right on top of the hollow. He felt the wet crunch of bones breaking and a fleshy sense of resistance. A heartbeat later, a rabbit-like beast appeared. Its fur changed color from a perfect match to its surroundings to a dull grey.
His heart leapt into his throat when he saw the blood pouring from its nose. He was terrified that he’d used too much force and killed the creature by mistake. But then he saw it twitch. It’s seriously messed up, but alive. I can still make this work.
By now, the monster was rounding the bush, and the others weren’t far behind. He could see the tip of its yellow beak poking through the branches. Edge only had seconds to spare before it found him. He had to work fast.
Extraction. He willed his core’s ultimate to activate while reaching toward the wounded creature, urging his chains to be as quiet as they could.
It seemed that Skill-Eater could sense his intentions or had another way of understanding what was going on. Instead of bursting from his wrists this time, the chains slipped softly out of his flesh. They crossed the final few inches between his hands and the beast’s body, then slid inside its core, drawing his awareness along for the ride.
It looked like some manner of sprawling underground burrow, with tasty mushrooms and roots growing everywhere. At first, the core appeared completely empty. But then Edge realized that a concealment skill would probably be hard to spot in this strange space too.
Although the skill was invisible to his eyes, Skill-Eater knew exactly what to do. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen until chains spread out and swung across the area, dragging themselves along the dirt until they touched something solid.
The living links grabbed hold and pulled the skill out, dropping it into his mouth the moment that he was back in his body. For once, he couldn’t feel anything on his tongue. I’m not falling for that. He followed his chains’ example as the monster crossed the final few feet, sniffing at the air with increasing enthusiasm.
Edge started smushing his tongue and teeth around until they bit into something that he hadn’t sensed at all. The subtlest of flavors broke over his palate, like the ghost of a memory of a taste. He caught an impression of standing unseen in the middle of a crowd, before the skill slid down his throat and fell into his core.
You have extracted the skill: Conceal (common, rank 1).
Would you like to slot it now?
Yes. Do it fast or we’re dead.
When he was drawn inside his core, Edge willed everything to proceed as quickly as possible. Even in this strange place where time ran slow, his was almost up. Responding to his urgency, something blurry locked into his last empty skill slot. He snapped back into his body, just as the reaver squawked and surged into motion.
The instant that the skill was ready, he activated conceal. Mana went gliding across his skin, just as a serrated yellow beak erupted through the side of the bush. The living weapon went streaking past his head, missing his nose by an inch before plunging into the ground between his boots.
The razor-sharp bill pierced the beast’s side, then pulled it out of the brush. The shadowreaver spread its beak wide, tearing the carcass in half before swallowing the grisly prize.
There was a series of screeching hisses as the pack of monsters fought for the last bloody bite. Then they started searching for Edge again, passing by him so closely that they almost touched his arms. Several stopped to stare straight at him, trying to figure out why his trail had gone cold.
When he digested the skill, he had learned more about it. Conceal erased his scent and heat signature on top of helping him blend into the background, but it wouldn’t work if he moved. He knew from how he’d found the beast that if the monsters made contact, they would feel him and figure out what was going on.
Edge remained perfectly still, not daring to breathe as the confused monsters passed him by over and over again, their beaks coming within inches of his body on several occasions. They circled the bush at least a dozen times, unable to figure out how they’d lost the trial when his scent had been growing stronger until a few seconds ago.
Conceal devoured mana at a moderate rate. He could only keep it running for a few more minutes before his reserves ran out, leaving him even worse off than before.
Fortunately, the reavers moved on before that happened. They gave up and disappeared into the distance, leaving Edge alone with his heart hammering in his chest and a dilemma on his hands. That was way too fucking close. I can’t keep this skill up every time they draw near. I don’t have enough generation for something like that. What am I going to do?
As soon as the reavers were out of sight, he turned and started running in the opposite direction, desperate to make the crossing before the monsters returned. It was an outcome that felt inevitable by this point. If they were tracking shadow step residing within his core, he couldn’t count on them giving up or being distracted by other prey.
Conceal had been enough to save him once. But the more he used it, the more likely it became that the reavers would figure out what was happening. And if the monsters saw him before he was able to turn it on, they would find him and tear him apart.
It seemed that Edge had to make it back to town even faster than he’d thought. He prayed that the fiends couldn’t see in the dark, or they would catch up to him no matter what he tried. Either way, if he wanted to live, he had to open some distance before they found his trail and started hunting him again.
With his life hanging in the balance, he ran until sweat poured down his body and his feet began to ache, throbbing with every step he took. Although it was tempting, he couldn’t afford to heal them with regeneration right now. He needed every drop of mana he had in case the shadowreavers showed up again.
Edge sipped from the river when his canteen ran out, gambling that it was clean enough to drink. Not that he had much choice. The consequences of being caught were too great to worry about an upset stomach tomorrow.
Despite his best efforts, the monsters found him again twice throughout the day. Every time that he stopped to rest for more than a few minutes, the reavers appeared, drawing near before conceal erased his presence and they lost track of his scent. He could tell that they were learning with each new encounter, staying relatively close instead of ranging further out.
When the sun began to set, he started looking for shelter. He couldn’t use conceal while he slept, but his reservoir would refill overnight. He fervently hoped that the monsters couldn’t stalk him in the dark. I need to hole up somewhere that they can’t reach me easily, in case they come while I’m asleep.
Ten minutes later, Edge found something that would work. He climbed into the branches of a tall tree surrounded by short white grass. It was a place where he could see the reavers’ black bodies contrasting against the pale growth, even by the light of the moon.
He stared into the distance until the world grew dark, jumping at every creaking branch and shifting shadow. He sent his awareness into his nose and ears, relying on them to let him know if he was in danger. But nothing appeared after another nervous hour.
Edge didn’t think that he would sleep at all, but he eventually drifted off.
Not long after, he began to dream. The memories of how his strange journey had begun flitted across his dreamscape, like bubbles rising to the surface of a storm-wracked sea.
