89. Otter Have a Good Time (Patreon)

Ike and the otter charged at one another. The otter dropped to all fours, galloping toward his ankles. Seeing the trip coming, Ike jumped. The otter instantly stopped its charge. Running backward, it curled up under his landing spot and pointed its jaws at the sky.

A blur of gray fur and lightning smashed into the curled otter. Startled, the otter fled to the perimeter of the meadow, and Loup gave chase. At the perimeter, the otter circled around the clearing rather than retreat further.

Ike landed. He looked at the otter, hounded by Loup, then at the grass. Shrugging to himself, he knelt and went to pick a few more strands.

The otter screamed. It charged Ike again. As it closed in, it launched itself int the air with all four limbs, drawing back its little fist to punch.

Ike jumped up. He backpedaled away from the grass, and the otter soared by. Its punch landed on the air. Instead of the total whiff Ike had expected, a shockwave burst out from the otter’s fist at the end of its punch. Green energy twisted forth and smashed into a tree at the edge of the clearing. Wood cracked and snapped. Ike turned. The punch had smashed three concentric rings into the tree’s surface, each one compressed further into the hard wood.

He licked his lips. Holy shit. I don’t want one of those to land on me.

“That little shit. Show him the might of humanity!” Wisp cheered from the forest, munching on some unidentifiable scrap of meat.

“Why don’t you come out here and show him the might of spider…anity?” Ike asked, dodging as the otter went for a bite.

Wisp yawned. She waved her hand. “And deprive you of the chance to grow and train? Or do you really need me to come down there and take that skill orb?”

“Skill orb?” Ike asked, startled. Does she mean the shockwave fist? I could use that! I’m not giving it up! “Never mind, thank you for the opportunity to let me handle this!”

“That’s more like it,” Wisp said, adjusting a little in her tree to get even more comfortable.

The otter leaped at him, all four limbs and its mouth outstretched. Ike sliced, expecting to cut its belly open. His sword struck thick, rubbery fat. He sent the otter flying, but when it landed, there was only a thin slash on its skin. It hissed at him, angry.

“Why are you obsessed with this grass, anyways?” Ike asked it.

Rather than answer him, the otter leaped at his face.

Ike slashed again, throwing it back. The otter landed and leaped again, hissing angrily. The two of them traded blows back and forth. Ike cut at its fat, and the otter clawed at his face. He accumulated small cuts on the otter’s underside, but the otter scored a few deep scratches on his face and neck. Ike quickly healed the cuts, but the healing drained his mana at a higher rate than he was comfortable with. I can’t keep drawing this out.

He and the otter clashed again. Ike put all his strength into the sweep and threw the otter clean across the meadow. At the same time, he jumped back. He landed at the edge of the clearing.

He and the otter faced one another from across the meadow. Sunlight beamed down between them, so bright Ike could barely see. The otter squinted back at Ike.

Ike drew back his blade. He assumed the first form of the River-Splitting Sword. Lightning shimmered over his body.

Opposite him, green energy shimmered around the otter’s fist. It breathed in, then out. Dark eyes gazed at Ike with the intent to kill.

A breeze blew through the clearing. The flowers trembled. The grass whirled. In the very center of the clearing, halfway between Ike and the otter, the whitefeather grass fluttered.

The two of them leaped at one another. Dirt flew. Lightning crackled after Ike. The otter let its punch fly as it closed in on Ike. Green energy shot from its fist.

Ike leaped, flying over the punch. The energy flew under him and slammed into the tree behind him. His legs fully clad in lightning, he unloosed the Flurry of Kicks for the first time. One kick after another rained down on the otter’s head. Ike held himself in the air by the force of his kicks, kicking so quickly he didn’t fall.

The otter fended him off. Its paws moved so fast they blurred into one continuous whirl of motion. Even as it blocked Ike’s attacks, though, the lightning shot through its limbs. Its arms slowed as the lightning numbed them. It chittered, frustrated.

Ike’s eyes lit up. Yes! Just a little more!

His legs slowed. The skill stopped. Ike’s eyes widened. Not now!

The otter grinned. It lunged at his much-slowed feet with its teeth.

He surged his mana to his feet. Lightning Dash’s bolts grew thicker. The otter bit down on a mouthful of boot and lightning. Electricity shot down its throat.

It screeched. Falling backward, it shook its head and patted at its mouth. Its lips curled in pain.

Ike landed. He chased after it, giving it no reprieve. The otter looked up, startled. It turned to flee.

“No chance. You started it. I’m ending it,” Ike snapped. He sprinted after it, lightning shooting from his heels. In a few steps, he caught up. The otter whirled, but too slow. He surged mana to his arms, fully activating Lightning Clad, and sliced down. He cut through the otter’s fat and beyond. Blood gushed. White bone peeked through the gash.

The otter gagged. Whipping around, it lunged at him one last time.

“I don’t think so.” Ike jumped back. Whipping around, he hit it with a roundhouse kick. It flew backward. With a thump, it hit a tree and slid down it, crumpled in a heap at the bottom.

He stood back for a few moments, waiting. The otter hissed one last time, then went completely still. Blood puddled around it.

Ike walked over. Kneeling, he prodded the otter with his sword. No reaction.

Behind him, applause. He stood and turned. Wisp walked over, clapping as she came. “Good job. Good job.”

“You going to eat this one, too?” Ike asked sarcastically.

She pulled a face and shook her head. “Otter meat is too oily. You can have it.”

“Nice, I needed some meat.” He grabbed the otter by the head and dragged it away from the tree.

As he dragged it, a green orb tumbled out of its body. Ike and Wisp both stared. Abruptly, Ike jumped on it, snatching it up. “I killed it, I keep it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Who even wants a shitty skill like that,” Wisp muttered. She eyed the orb with interest and licked her lips.

“I fought it from scratch. You did nothing. You have no claim to this,” Ike said firmly.

“I already said I don’t want it. Or do you want me to fight for it?” Wisp asked.

Ike turned away, hiding it behind his body. “No thanks.”

She snorted. “So? Gonna find out what it is?”

“Bet it’s that punch skill,” Ike commented, but he didn’t counter her suggestion. This was as good a chance as any to test out the prod-things-with-mana technique that every mage apparently knew.

Sheathing his sword, he rested his free hand atop the orb. He gathered his mana, then sent a short pulse into the orb. Green energy pulsed back, along with an impression of a fist technique.

“It’s the punch, like I thought,” Ike said.

“But it’s good to know, isn’t it?” Wisp asked, pointing at him.

“It is good to know.” He tightened his grip on the orb, then looked at Wisp.

“What?”

“How do I tell if it’s suited for me or not?” Ike asked.

She stared at him in confusion for a moment, then raised her brows. “Oh, that. Right. Did it hurt when you peeked at the skill?”

“No,” Ike said.

“Then you’re good. Probably.”

“Probably?”

She waved her hand. “You’re fine.”

He looked at the orb uncertainly, then took a deep breath. I’ve absorbed plenty of orbs without being able to see inside them at all. This is fine. He clenched it tight and silently shouted, Absorb!