Chapter 48: Adaptation

Chapter 48: Adaptation

“Conjuration, who’d have thought?”

Glenny spun at the words, bubbly red power reacting to his will and forming a pair of spikes. He shoved the impromptu weapon forward, finding it abruptly stopped inches from the Huntress’ throat.

“Angry little one, aren’t we?” she asked. “But I can see you are coming into that power all on your own. A few more days and I might let you leave the mountain.”

It was mid-morning in the cold snow forest of the north mountains, the sun was high above and not a cloud was left in the sky. Under normal conditions, Glenny would have called it a perfect morning. But, since he was out in the wilderness under duress, he couldn’t find the beauty in it.

“’Days,’” he repeated. “No. I’ve played your game long enough, take me back.”

Isobel raised an eyebrow. “Confident are we? Only took you beating an inner demon.”

“You said I had to adapt. Well, here I am, adapted. I killed the basilisk days ago. It’s time to go back. So, if you don’t mind, my friends are waiting.” Glenny strolled off, his star peppered ebony cloak flapping with the cold wind.

A sigh escaped Isobel’s lips. “There’s a faster way down the mountain than walking. Not to mention you’d have to charter a boat and find your way across two continents to get back to Shoutwell.”

Glenny froze. “What did you just say?”

“I’m saying that you are half-a-world away from your friends. And, I have a teleporting artifact. We can be back in Shoutwell within minutes. So, you better humor me unless you want to walk all the way back.”

“Fine,” he seethed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh nothing much,” she said, oozing sarcasm. “Just test your limits, battle me.”

Glenny blinked a few times then thrust his red spikes at the Huntress’ throat. She easily backstepped, parrying his dominant wrist with her own before smacking him in the chest with an open palm.

“Rather weak, I’d say. Not much style in your movements. Only stab, stab, stab. That’s not going to get you very far.”

Glenny grumbled something, taking a step back and setting his feet. His posture lowered along with his center of gravity. Suddenly he shot off, turning into a whirlwind of deadly red power. His hands moved regardless of his conjured weapons, each taking new positions in his fighting style. The effect was a hail of blades and fists, each attacking independent of one another.

The Huntress smiled at the attempt, but ultimately dodged or blocked all of his attacks. “Interesting idea,” she said. “A few years of practicing that and you might have something worthy of pursuing. As it is now? Not so much. Nothing is deadly enough, your concentration is too split.”

“I’ve just got to adapt, right?” Glenny said with a glare.

Isobel frowned. “Did you learn nothing?”

“You didn’t really teach anything. Just threw me on a mountain and expected me to progress.”

She thought for a second. “Maybe you’re right. You succeeded in the instinctual portion of your Legacy, I suppose I might as well help you with the practical. Let's start with what your parents taught you. Nothing special, no extra appendages of power – just daggers.”

Glenny shrugged and stubbornly controlled the power of the Sightless King into his hands. The bubbles boiled over his back and chest, finding his grip and morphing into a mess of red.

Glenny went low, sweeping his leg. The Huntress easily vaulted over him, landing another quick cut along the back of his neck. He turned, finding an arrow tip between his eyes.

“I think this is a good stopping point, don’t you ?” she said, catching a wild swing from her right.

She punched him in the throat, sending him to the snow. “Look kid, look at yourself. I’ve killed you several times over. You lost and you cannot win.”

Glenny didn’t care and forced more red bubbles to his side. Isobel sighed and activated a Legacy ability. Suddenly there was a flash of light and she disappeared.

“Interesting parasitic item you’ve got here,” she said from behind, casually slipping the cloak on. “Shame it binds to one’s soul. I might have stolen it from you once we found it wasn’t cursed.”

Sneering, Glenny suddenly felt his energy bottom out.

“Oh? Poor little boy finally ran out of juice?” she laughed. “Like I said, I think this is a good stopping point.”

“T-take it back!” he yelled.

“Hmm?”

“You called my mother weak! She was a comrade of yours! How can you say that about—”

The Huntress raised a hand, silencing him. “Can you not see I said that to rile you up? The Sightless King power obviously works from emotions, and obviously I lied. No one would be able to reach Royal Inquisitor status if they weren’t powerful.”

Glenny stared at her, his poster deflating somewhat. “You said—”

“Read my lips,” Isobel said slowly. “I. Lied. To. Rile. You. Up. Well, not about leaving her fighting style. It's only going to get you so far, especially with conjuration in your armory.”

“I would I have to change—”

“Because you are too tall. I’ve met your mother several times and you definitely have your dad’s height. And I imagine you are still growing.” She pointed to the two knives sitting in the snow. “Just look at what you did to attack me with the Sightless King power. You extended the knives. Your body knows you need longer weapons, just your head doesn’t.”

“But—” Glenny tried.

“You can stick with daggers if that is what you are wondering. Just longer ones. Those sabers you created were good. Maybe a bit shorter would be more optimal, actually.”

“I don’t—”

The Huntress rolled her eyes. “Kid, shut up. You’re supposed to be the quiet one. Just sit there and let me think. When we leave this mountain, you will have a full training regimen to go off of.”

Glenny snapped his mouth closed and fell back.