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[Skill-Eater] Chapter 18: Weasel
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 17:03:01 +0000 UTCEdge stepped beneath the canopy, his excitement growing by the heartbeat. It was cool within the trees’ deep shade, towering growths with rich red bark and deep purple leaves.
It was hard to concentrate with the seed’s aroma urging him on, compelling him to claim the prize for his own. He forced himself to remain vigilant. To scan his surroundings for dangerous creatures, hazardous terrain, and other lethal threats.
Giving in to such distractions was a recipe for disaster. The lure of mana-seeds had led countless creatures to their doom, and he was determined not to be one of them.
He crept from trunk to trunk, judging each step before transferring his weight, careful not to snap fallen branches or disturb scattered leaves. He broke up his profile using the terrain, making it harder for unseen eyes to pick him out from his surroundings.
At least, that was the idea. While Edge was familiar with the principles of moving silently, this was his first time trying to sneak through the woods with his life on the line. The few classes he’d taken before coming to Ord were woefully insufficient for the task at hand. I’ll just have to learn as I go.
Either his efforts were enough to conceal his presence or luck was with him today, because he encountered nothing more menacing than a few small animals as he crossed the grove. He could tell that he was getting closer to his destination. Soon, the seed’s scent was so strong that he could taste it on his lips. I should be there any…
His thoughts trailed off when he spotted a clearing ahead. A wide swath of open ground with a single mushroom growing in the middle. A mushroom so rich in magic that it warped the air around it, like waves rising from a sun-warmed stone.
Even from this distance, Edge knew that he was looking at the mana-seed he’d sought. It was more than just the mushroom’s unusual appearance. He’d read that beasts feel an instinctual attraction to the condensed magicytes that mana-food contains.
Now that he had a core of his own, he could feel it too. A primal calling, deep in his bones, beckoning him with a siren’s song.
He would have run over and devoured the mushroom then and there, if it wasn’t for one small problem. The cored beast lying beside it.
The creature in question was half his size. It had sleek brown fur and an angular body. Wicked teeth and claws. Weasel. Edge recognized it from the Prison World footage he’d studied, since they were one of the most common beasts on the plains. It was small enough that it might not have developed its first skill yet, but it was far from easy prey.
Weasels are specialized toward speed, reflex, and control, with a lesser emphasis on perception. If it does have a skill, it’s most likely bite or some manner of perceptual enhancement. He stood frozen in place while he inspected the creature from a distance.
This weasel barely looked old enough to strike out on its own, likely having established a territory only days before. Better still, it was curled in on itself, forming a circle like a cat. It’s asleep. What a stroke of luck.
If he was able to get close enough to attack without waking it up, Edge might be able to win the fight before it started. Or at least score first blood and gain a considerable advantage.
The tricky part was, he didn’t have any skills related to stealth, while ones boosting perception were common for monsters and beasts alike. There was a big difference between reducing the noise he made while crossing the forest floor and moving quietly enough to evade the weasel’s ears from only a few feet away.
The extra point in control would help, and he had to take the risk regardless. This was the best opportunity that Edge was likely to find, and he couldn’t afford to waste it. He would just have to move as slowly as he could, watch where he put his feet, and hope for the best.
If he wound up in a fight after all, his elemental blade should see him through, if he was able to keep it a secret. No one would expect someone at stage-zero to have two uncommon skills. But if he messed up and revealed them too soon, he would run out of mana before he could land a hit with his iceblade.
Going forward, he needed to learn how to disable his prey. Let his chains invade while his target was helpless to resist the assault, then dine on their skills at his leisure. But it didn’t matter what skills this beast had to offer. He couldn’t [Extract] any more until the rare he’d eaten finished digesting. Right now, all that mattered was that he got his hands on the seed.
Since there was no reason to cripple his opponent, Edge went in for the kill.
He drew his knife and began creeping toward the clearing as quietly as he could. His heart pounded in his chest as his adrenaline started to flow. He forced his breathing to stay slow and steady, trying not to dwell on the fact that his hands were shaking. That his palms were slick with sweat.
This was his first time picking a fight with something that could kill him. A battle born of his own free will. It felt completely different from being backed into a corner, left with no choice other than to fight or die.
It was deeply frightening but exciting too. A chance to find out what he could do and grow stronger along the way.
Each cry in the distance, every time the treetops swayed in the breeze, nearly made him leap out of his skin. But Edge refused to panic. He ignored the countless ways this could go wrong that were playing through his head. His determination overruled his imagination, and he was able to focus once more.
Instead of letting the stress overwhelm him, he broke his task into the smallest possible steps and focused on them one at a time. He shut out everything but the approach to his quarry and kept on walking as naturally as he could.
Closer and closer he came until he could see the beast clearly. The powerful muscles running along its body. The sharpness of its fangs. Scars along its fur indicating that although it was young, this creature was no stranger to violence.
Soon, there was only a short stretch of open ground left to cross. The decisive moment would arrive in just a few more steps.
From here, the scent of the mana-seed was nearly irresistible, causing every cell of his body to pulsate with greed. Edge pushed all such distractions aside, moving inch by inch until he was looming over the sleeping weasel, with only a final two feet between them.
What am I supposed to do next? He was afraid to activate his iceblade just yet. There was a good chance that the cold would wake the beast, and it took a few seconds to form. But slash should be almost impossible to detect.
Edge nodded and drew his knife. He would land the first blow with his blade.
He had never assassinated anything before. While the idea of stabbing the weasel in the eye, throat, or heart made intuitive sense, he didn’t have the power or precision to hit two of those targets reliably. He had, however, had decent luck with the third.
Throat it is.
Knowing that every second he hesitated could cost him his life, Edge raised his knife before him. He leaned over until the blade was hovering in front of the beast’s neck and ignited his core. Then he slashed as hard as he could.
