32. To Hunt a Wolf (Patreon)

The toads dangled from a tree, strung up by the back paws. Blood drained out their necks, dripping onto the ground. Ike worked to skin the toad, slicing it open with his razor.

Behind him, Rosamund wrinkled her nose. “Disgusting.”

Ike looked up at her over his shoulder. “You don’t have to watch.”

“It’s good to remind myself of the base duties of the common folk,” Rosamund replied haughtily.

Ike turned back to the toad. When am I going to learn to ignore her?

Moving quickly, he skinned the second toad, then hung both their hides to dry. He tended to his tools while the toads’ blood drained. Rosamund walked away, bored. The sun dipped toward the horizon. Ike set up a fire, then returned to the now-drained toads. He hacked the toads’ back legs off with his sword, then, with long, sturdy sticks he’d set aside, spiked them up against the fire to roast.

“You’re going to eat those?” Rosamund asked, horrified.

Ike ignored her. Leaving the legs to cook, he took the toads’ bodies away one by one and buried them a distance from the camp, so nothing would be attracted to the meat he didn’t eat in the night. Returning, he sat down and crossed his legs, resting by the fire.

Rosamund watched him through the whole process with a kind of disgusted curiosity. When she saw he’d finished, she retreated to her handmaids. Ike peered over his shoulder, curious.

The handmaids rushed to her side. From their infinitely deep hip pouches, they drew out finger sandwiches, tea, fruit juices, and an entire tray of pastries. They spread out a picnic cloth for Rosamund to sit, and set up the food around her on gleaming trays.

Rosamund looked down at Ike. Cold laughter echoed from her throat, and the ice in her eyes dared him to ask for some.

Ike turned back to his toad legs, unmoved. Internally, he salivated, but he pushed it down. Doesn’t matter. It’s not for me. I’m not going to give her the satisfaction. He turned the toad legs, roasting them on the other side.

Time passed. Rosamund’s handmaids set up an ornate tent, and she vanished inside it. Ike ate his toad legs, the meat juicy, if a bit gamey, then set up his bedroll. He laid back, staring at the stars.

Tomorrow, I hunt the Fulgur-Loup. One last day, and then I’m free of Rosamund forever.

A stick snapped. Ike sat up sharply, reaching for his sword.

“At ease.”

Ike breathed out, relieved. Glancing up, he nodded. “Didn’t think I’d see you for a while.”

The man sat down beside him. He drew his legs up and crossed his arms over them, resting his head atop them. “The girl is no threat to me. If I hadn’t been trapped by the wall, I would’ve been in no danger.”

Remembering the difference in Silver and Rosamund’s auras, Ike nodded.

“The toads. Why did you kill so many?” Silver asked.

Ike wrinkled his nose. He shook his head. “I only wanted to kill two. Rosamund tossed bait, and…” He explained the situation to Silver, up to the enormous toad showing up.

Silver nodded. He gave Ike a serious gaze. “It’s not good to disrupt the peace of the forest. You’ll anger the forests’ guardians.”

“Guardians… like that huge toad?” Ike asked.

Silver nodded. After a moment, he shrugged. “This time, it couldn’t be helped.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Bugs cried. Bats swirled overhead. Little blips of gold light appeared here and there as lightning bugs fluttered from tree to tree.

“Where are you going, now?” Silver asked at last.

“I’m…we’re hunting a Fulgur-Loup. I want the skill they drop. Rosamund is…she refuses to leave me be.”

“Hmm. Beware. The Abyss is near the Fulgur-Loups’ territory,” Silver said.

“The Abyss?”

“A dark gorge, from which nothing returns.” Gold eyes turned to Ike, not hidden behind his usual smoked lenses. An unusual seriousness glimmered in their depths.

Ike raised his brows. “I’ll be careful not to fall in.”

Silver hummed. He stretched forward from his sit, transforming in the space between leaning and his hands touching the ground. A panther loped off into the night.

Watching him go, Ike frowned. Why did Silver come to me? To warn me not to overhunt? I already know better than that. I never would’ve killed all those toads if Rosamund hadn’t left me in that shitty situation.

After a second, he shrugged to himself. No one understood Silver, and he understood Silver least of all. Silver clearly thought it was important. That meant it was worth keeping in mind. More than that, and he’d have to ask Orin or Cara or someone else to help translate. 

And…the Abyss, huh? Ike leaned back against his bedroll. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the stars through the trembling leaves. A cool breeze blew, a portent of autumn to cut through the heat of the summer night. Abyss.

There were myths about the abyss. Fairytales. An unfathomably dark pit that swallowed up bad children who left the wall’s safe confines. The monsters would kill you if you got out, but the abyss tracked you down. Nowhere was safe. Not inside, not outside. The abyss always got its due.

Never made any sense to me. It’s a hole in the ground. It can’t exactly chase you around. But if Silver warned him about it… Ike sighed. There’s probably a big, deep chasm, not a fairytale ‘abyss.’ I’ll make sure I don’t trip, but that’s the limit of it.

He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. With Silver and Rosamund’s handmaids nearby, he slept worry-free. It wasn’t as good as sleeping in a cave, but between the three of them, he had confidence that nothing would disturb his and Rosamund’s slumber.

Morning came. Light spilled over the horizon, spilling pink into the sky. Ike yawned and stretched. He rolled up his bedroll and packed it away. From his rations, he broke off a piece of hardtack and tossed it in his mouth. Stirring up the embers as he sucked on the tack, he restarted the fire and got water boiling. A bit of a tea brick went in the water. When it was good and brewed, he poured the tea into a metal cup and plopped the tack into the hot water. The hot water broke down the tack faster than his saliva could. He stirred the cup, forming a kind of loose porridge from the tea and tack, then ate it with a spoon.

“Disgusting. Commoners and their common foods,” Rosamund said, looking down on him with her lip lifted.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve had it,” Ike replied flatly.

“There’s no way that tastes good,” she refuted him.

Ike shrugged. He took a sip of the thick broth. It doesn’t, but what am I going to do, admit it? Lifting the cup, he offered her a sip. “Try it yourself, princess.”

She gagged. “I’d rather starve.”

“Sure.” Ike lowered his cup and went back to eating.

Rosamund stared at him. “You aren’t supposed to say ‘sure.’ You’re supposed to—”

“Have you ever starved?”

“What? No, of course not,” Rosamund said.

Ike snorted. “Might do you some good to try.”

“Are you calling me fat?” Rosamund gasped, aghast.

He squinted at her. “Where are you getting that from?”

“You told me to starve!”

“Yeah, so it’d adjust your bratty-ass attitude about food,” Ike returned, bracing his bowl-hand against his leg. He looked up on her. “Do it. Starve. And I mean starve. Don’t have an option, don’t do it on purpose, but starve because there’s nothing else to eat, because you’ve already plucked the grass and ate the bugs, and then you’ll appreciate food.”

“Your father ran the monster-processing plant. He’s one of the wealthiest individuals in the slum,” Rosamund countered.

Ike raised two fingers and lowered one. “Not my father, my uncle.” He lowered  the other one. “He’s wealthy, yes. How do you think he got there? Not by raising a kid for free. I’ve worked for my own wages to buy my own food since I was old enough to hold a pen.”

“You surely don’t expect me to believe your uncle would allow you to starve. As a child, no less. Your uncle,” Rosamund scoffed.

“Don’t have to believe it for it to be true,” Ike replied flatly.

“Familial love and obligations—”

“Huh? What are those?” He paused, lifting his free hand to tap his chin. “Guess he’d waive me paying back full interest on my debt, sometimes. Send me home with a copper. Does that count?”

Rosamund simply stared at him, her brows furrowed. At last, she flicked her hair and marched off, back to her handmaids.

Expressionlessly, Ike watched her go. Only when she vanished into the tent did he grin. Scared off the brat. Score one for me.

The scent of fresh bacon emanated from the tent. Zeke looked up, surprised. How are they cooking bacon in there? No—never mind. I don’t want to know.

While Rosamund ate, he checked on the hides. They were dried enough to use, so he pulled out his needle and thread and started stitching them into wearable goods. A few stitches at the wrists and ankles kept them bound to the limbs. He paired that with a toad-hide strip at the neck to bind it to his back and shoulders.

Ike tried it on. He swung his arms and jumped a few times, striking sharp, short movements like attacking, rolling, and blocking. The hide moved with him. Between the gaps at the large joints like the elbows and knees and the not fully dried hide, it remained supple enough to move easily, but stiff enough to provide some protection. It slipped a little too far from his body at his hips and shoulders, but a few extra stitches would solve the problem.

I’ll fix that while I wait.

Looking down, he surveyed his soft underbelly. The armor’s great weakness was its total lack of frontal coverage. There wasn’t much he could do about that with the materials he had. If they grabbed a few more toads, maybe… But with Rosamund actively sabotaging? Yeah. Good luck.

Once I finish this bullshit hunt and dump her back at the outpost, I’ll come back out and grab those extra corpses. They’ll be a little fleabitten, but they ought to still be worth a few gold. And if Lea won’t buy them, I can always improve on the toad armor. Add a chest panel.

He glanced at the tent, but Rosamund and her handmaids remained fully ensconced within. Ike turned away. Hiding his arm behind his body, he lifted his hand and circulated his mana. Lightning leaped up on the surface of his hand. Here goes nothing. He turned his other arm toward it and touched the toadskin on the back of his arm. Ike tensed, expecting a shock.

Nothing. The lightning dissipated the second it came in contact with the skin.

Ike grinned. Perfect.

He took off the toad’s skin and added the few extra stitches. When Rosamund still remained hidden away in the tent, he pulled up his status menu out of sheer boredom.

[Name: Ike | Age: 15 | Status: Nm | Rank: 1 [Salamander Slayer]]

Skills: Common: 5 | Bronze 2 | … | Rare 2 | … | Unique: 4

Common: All-Around Runner Lvl 3 | Razor Handling Lvl 9 | Spear Handling Lvl 3 | Axe Handling Lvl 4 | Sword Handling Lvl 4 | Primitive Crafting Lvl 4

Bronze: Sensory Enhancement Lvl 4 | Mana Manipulation Lvl 2

Rare: Salamander Healing Lvl 8 | River-Splitting Sword Lvl 3

Unique: Lightning Dash Lvl 8 | Lightning Grasp Lvl 5 | Lightning Clad (Forearm) Lvl 3 | Lightning Clad (Calf) Lvl 1

He hummed to himself. Sword Handling is already pretty high. Seems like killing things with my skills gets me more level than simply practicing them in a vacuum. I wonder if I absorb something when I kill them? I should pay more attention.

Sensory Enhancement, Mana Manipulation, Salamander Healing, and my sword technique all leveled up too, but unfortunately I can’t practice my lightning skills right now.

He twisted his lips, then shrugged. It’s good to level my other skills, too. River-Splitting Sword is a powerful skill, even if it isn’t Unique. And the same goes for the rest of them.

Canvas snapped. Rosamund emerged from the tent. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Excellent. Here. Put this on,” Ike said, offering her the second toad armor.

She gave it one look and turned away in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

Ike stared at her. He looked at her handmaids.

They shrugged.

He looked at the toad armor, then Rosamund. I could talk her into it…or I could take her at her word, and improve my own toad armor later. Ike shrugged to himself and slung the armor into his pack.