Before anything else could happen, the big man spasmed and then went still. Now that his body could no longer regenerate, blood began flowing from his torso like a bucket with no bottom. It let the sadistic bastard die at last, after the torture he’d endured.
When the last glimmer of life finished fading from the jailbird’s eyes, a message from the System appeared in front of Edge’s.
You have slain an enemy and gained experience.
For defeating a cored opponent stage 2 or above, you have earned 1 mortium.
“What? No. I didn’t kill him...” Edge stopped himself cold. When he thought it through, his actions had led to the death of the prisoner. Even if he was dying anyway and the end had been a mercy that he didn’t deserve.
“By the gods… What are you?” The tall man, face pale from blood loss, tried to back away. But he was so weak that he could only stagger a few steps before falling over.
It was bizarre to see this lethal being cowering in front of him. A man who was more than human, a predator who’d looked down on him with disdain only seconds before, was staring up at Edge with horror in his eyes, like he was the monster. A total reversal of their original roles.
It made what had taken place over the last few minutes sink in in a way that it hadn’t until that moment. Holy shit. This is really happening.
“Stay away! I’d rather let the reaver…” Before the convict could finish his sentence, Edge felt a fresh surge of hunger, as his core demanded that it be given leave to feed.
He wasn’t a cruel man, but he wasn’t inclined to fight it.
This man had nearly killed Edge, and he would do so again if given a half a chance. Besides, as matters stood, the reaver would slaughter them both anyway.
Edge wasn’t about to let such a powerful skill go to waste. Not when he could claim it for his own.
Extraction. He gave into the urge and bid his chains to fly free, black links bursting out from the ends of his wrists. They went snaking across the floor before plunging into the tall man’s chest. The mysterious chains passed through his ribs then dove into his core, seeking their next meal.
Once again, Edge’s consciousness was drawn along with them. What he encountered wasn’t anything like what had happened before. The interior of this man’s core was an icy expanse, the wind so chill that it numbed Edge’s bones.
There were several skills buried in the snow, but only one that Skill-Eater wanted. Rising from the surface of this arctic wasteland was a glowing blue blade, formed from the pure heart of a glacier. It was so sharp that it could cut him in half with a touch. So cold that it would freeze the blood in his veins well before he got that close.
Instead of running in terror as the chains drew near, this skill stood its ground, emitting a regal might like a monarch upon her throne. Edge could sense that the elemental blade was confident that it could slay anything that dared to challenge it, and it was easy to see why.
He was afraid that the iceblade could fight off his ultimate, but those mysterious links proved impervious to chill and blade alike. They wrapped around the razored ice embedded within the core, drawing tight and then pulling hard.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
There was an incredible feeling of resistance, as the slot binding the skill fought to keep it from coming free. Its defiance enraged Skill-Eater.
Edge’s chains redoubled their efforts. They yanked so hard that he was drawn back into his body, where he had to brace himself so that he wasn’t dragged down to the ground.
After another mighty tug, the convict’s core cracked, shattering the region that the skill was slotted into. With eager anticipation, the black chains dragged it out of the thin man’s body. Something long and sharp that was glowing arctic blue.
Before Edge could process the full implications of the evolving situation, the chains flung the iceblade straight into his mouth. It started slicing and freezing his gums like a subzero blender, leaving rime-coated ruin behind.
The painful attack sent him reeling, unable to remember what he was supposed to do next. At least the assault seemed to cost the skill something, widening the cracks that his chains had inflicted.
A few shattered fragments came loose and went sliding down his throat, gouging away as they fell into his core. This time, instead of digesting them, Skill-Eater tossed the shards straight into its reactor, breaking the skill experience down to produce an intense surge of mana.
Eating elemental blade would have killed him if he didn’t have regeneration and more magic to bring it to life. But it was just enough energy to repair the damage he was taking.
The fire burning behind his ribs shocked him back to his senses. In that moment, Edge knew what he had to do. Not looking forward to the experience at all, he brought his teeth down hard and started to chew.
Each bite drove razors into his gums. Froze his nerves to the core in an ocean of agony. But he could sense that his prey was growing weak, so he pushed past the pain and kept right on going.
He could feel the skill breaking apart with every bite, along with the occasional tooth. The weird part was… Ok, the whole thing was pretty weird. The weirder part was that although it hurt like hell, eating the skill tasted so, so good.
It was impossibly cold and yet oh so satisfying. It had a pure flavor like the most intense mint. Frigid, and sharp, and clear.
By now, regeneration was healing him faster than the iceblade was harming him, but his reactor was growing dim. If Edge wanted to finish his meal before he ran out of fuel, he had to hurry.
Ten hearty chomps later, the skill cracked down the middle and lost its cohesion, sliding down his throat without further resistance. When it was absorbed by his core, another message from the System appeared.
You have extracted the skill: Elemental Blade [ice] (uncommon, rank 3).
Digestion is complete.
This skill is damaged, and its experience has been lost.
Would you like to slot elemental blade now?
Warning: the skill will be lost if this option is declined.
Edge tried to say yes. But his throat was numb, and all that escaped past his lips was a frozen chunk of blood. Skill-Eater must have taken that for permission, because it flickered to life once more, claiming the skill for its collection.
Once again, Edge found himself standing inside his core. In that strange place where time crawled by.
He watched as his new skill was guided to an open slot, beside the one occupied by regeneration. A blade of ice resting beside a beating heart and a small stone statue.
He snapped back into his body a few seconds later.
When Edge was aware of his surroundings once more, the tall prisoner was lying at his feet, flopping around like a fish out of water. It seemed that the rough [Extraction] had caused damage on a fundamental level and was incredibly painful to boot.
Convulsing had reopened the wounds on the convict’s forearms, which had finally stopped bleeding. It turned out that not even losing both arms was enough to kill a cored individual. But blood loss and Edge’s ultimate had finished what the shadowreaver had started.
Staring out toward a distant horizon that only he could see, the thin man let out a gasp and then went still.
You have slain an enemy and gained experience.
For defeating a cored opponent stage 2 or above, you have earned 1 mortium.
You have accumulated sufficient experience to cycle-up your core. Your new cycle is: [1].
You have two attribute points awaiting allocation.
Would you like to spend them now?