Skill Hunter -Kill Monsters, Acquire Skills, Ascend to the Highest Rank!-Chapter 291:Book 4 Start: . Training

Their respite at the inn was short-lived. When dawn came, they set off once more. Scar took to her own direction, setting off directly for the capitol. Ike and his people took a detour in the other direction, to the plains that stretched endlessly to the opposite side of the realm than Mag’s desert. There, Ike stood at the brink of the endless grasslands. He gazed out at the emptiness, completely and utterly devoid of people, and drew out the orb.

King’s Reign. The skill he couldn’t master.

It was still empty. Naught but a clear orb. And yet, he could sense the skill within it. Faint, but present. Waiting. Dormant.

Wisp stood beside him. She put her hands behind her. "You know, you don’t have to do this. You might just be too low Rank to absorb the skill. It might be better to simply focus on growing stronger for now, then attempt to absorb this later."

Ike twisted his lips. "I’m already Rank 3. At my age, that’s incredible. I might be able to easily obtain Rank 4, but that’s no guarantee. It might take me hundreds of years. Even decades would still be short. And in that time, Brightbriar might sweep through the realm. He might even be doing it now. I can’t wait."

"And if you lose yourself now trying to absorb this skill, you die for certain," Wisp pointed out.

Beside them, Mag flapped into the air. He glided for a moment, then plunged into the grasses, flapping out with a rabbit caught in his transformed feet. Mag shifted into full bird and landed at the edge of the grasses to tear it apart.

Ike sighed. He looked at the skill orb in his hand, then back at Wisp. "I can suppress it again, at least one more time. If I can learn how to suppress it whenever I like, I can use it when I need it."

"And lose control, every time? In the heat of battle? In front of a puppetmaster? There are worse ideas, but there are certainly better."

He grimaced. "It’s not a great idea, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to give up on the skill altogether until I’m stronger, either. It’s a skill that can multiply my power. I can’t just say… ’oh, it’s dangerous, so I’m not going to try.’ I need to try. If things go sideways away, we can talk about it then, but… I have to try."

Wisp stepped back. She put her hands up. "Fine, fine. Just remember that I’m the one who has to beat the king down when things go sideways." Stay tuned with novelbuddy

Ike nodded. He lifted the orb, then clenched it tight, willing himself to absorb it.

Nothing happened. He stood there, clenching the orb, and that was all.

Wisp jumped back, tensing, but then stood. She raised her eyebrows at Ike. "Not working?"

"Yeah, I don’t know. It’s…" Ike looked at the orb, then held it up. "I mean, it looks empty. But I can sense something in it."

"Can you activate the skill without it?"

Ike frowned. He reached out inside himself and tried to call to the skill. Once more, nothing happened, but this time, he felt a faint sensation from it. Like it was turning away from him. Angry, or… maybe petulant?

He chased after that feeling, only for it to retreat from him. Ike watched it go, a little lost. He’d never had a skill react like this. As if it were alive, or had thoughts. But why not? He’d met mountains, beasts, and weapons that were all sentient, to some degree or another. Why not a skill with thoughts? Besides, hadn’t Scar indicated that it was possible? He remembered her saying something like that before they’d parted ways.

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Then maybe all he needed to do was sit down and have a good talk with the skill. Both of them could sort things out, and no one had to get hurt.

There was just one problem: the skill didn’t want to talk. Every time he reached out to it, it turned away. He couldn’t activate it, couldn’t talk to it, couldn’t engage with it in any meaningful way.

Ike twisted his lips in annoyance. The skill was really trying his patience. What was the point of being so petulant? It was a skill. It was part of his power now. Whether it liked it or not, it belonged to him.

Maybe if I forcibly draw it out… but how? He considered for a second, then shrugged. Focusing on the skill, he also clenched on the skill orb and tried to absorb it. The skill tried to turn away, but between the two attempts to call out to it, the skill couldn’t simply ignore him. Gold light shone around him, and the skill activated.

Mag instantly flew up into the sky. Wisp hopped back, watching him from a distance. Shawn, clinging to his shoulder as usual, yawned.

The King turned. He placidly surveyed his land. The staff hung in one hand, not yet active, but ready to absorb mana at any moment. Once more, his eyes landed on his subjects. The girl with the mouth, and the flying boy. He crossed his arms and gazed at them, disapproval in his eyes. These were the subjects who had objected to his rule. They ought to be punished.

"What? You wanna fight?" the girl challenged him, curling her hands into fists.

"Indeed. I think it’s time I put down a few dissidents," the King rumbled. He swept his staff, lowering its tip toward the girl. Power began gathering around it.

"Ha? You’re so weak you need to call on the mana around you to put down one person? What kind of weakling king are you?" she asked, sticking her tongue out.

The King lowered his staff. He narrowed his eyes, but couldn’t argue with her. She was right. Calling upon the mana of his land was his right as king, but to put down one child? That was pathetic. Could he even call himself king of he had to resort to such a thing.

"That’s right. Come! Fight me hand to hand!" Wisp instigated.

On one hand, she was terrified. The aura he exuded was far stronger than Ike’s. It pushed beyond anything Ike had ever been capable of, to a truly terrifying height. As if this King were running Ike’s body ragged without even noticing, just to draw out every ounce of power Ike could possibly generate.

But on the other hand, she was excited. She’d grown during the trial, the same as Ike. Now, she faced him at his most powerful. Even if she lost, she’d gain much in terms of experience, fighting a stronger opponent, one she wasn’t certain she could overpower. Her skin tingled, and a smile stretched across her face. "Come on. Let’s throw down, kingy boy."

The King’s face turned stormy. He drew back his staff and charged at her, ready to smash her down. With a laugh, Wisp rushed to meet him. Ike could take his time figuring out this skill. Until he did, she’d use it as a training dummy for her new skills!

Good thing she’d reminded Ike she was the one who ’had’ to beat up the King when things went sideways. Otherwise, he might be a bit angry when he woke up with a bruised face!

The two clashed. In an instant, a dozen blows were exchanged. To the King’s shock, and Wisp’s surprise, the King didn’t immediately have the upper hand. Wisp furrowed her brows for a second, thinking, then laughed. "That’s it, isn’t it? You’re a swordsman! I’m a fist-fighter! If we both fight hand-to-hand, I’m the one with an advantage, aren’t I?

"Foolish subject. No one has an advantage before the king!" the King replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that," she mocked him, and darted in again.

Deep within the confines of his mind, the tiny spark that was still Ike frowned. He felt as though he’d been insulted, but couldn’t quite place why.

No. Don’t focus on that. The skill. Call out to it. Ike took a deep breath and let it out, steadying himself. "Hey, King! Where are you? I’m here. In here, to talk to you. Are you hiding? Sulking?"

A voice boomed out from behind him. "A king does not sulk."

Ike turned. The King stood behind him, or rather, he stood behind him. But this was a version of Ike clad in the King’s golden regalia, not the scrappy slumrat he was used to seeing. This Ike had perfectly coiffed hair and delicate hands, clean, fine clothes and a softer face. One that didn’t have the weathering and tan that Ike sported. He lifted his chin and looked down at Ike. "Unlike this other, lesser me."

"Lesser?" Ike chuckled. He eyed the King. He was everything Ike hated, everything he never wanted to become. Spoiled. Soft. So far from the world that he couldn’t see its problems any longer. He shook his head. "No. I think you’re the one who’s the lesser me."

"Shall we see who is truly lesser?" the King asked, drawing his staff.

Ike reached to his waist. There was a pause, and then the Hungry Sword materialized in his hands, shivering with anticipation. "Let’s."