Ike crossed the forest quickly, familiar with the route back to the puppets. The day drew down around him, the sun nearing the horizon by the time he came to the cliff. He glanced up at the sky, noting how long it was until dark, then nodded to himself. I’ll tap one puppet today. If it works, I’ll come back tomorrow to tap the rest.

The metal ring sat in his pack, next to Rosamund’s head. He’d been hesitant putting the two in such close proximity, but when he’d tried it, nothing had happened. So, with a shrug, he’d stuck them in his pack. I’m not leaving the ring in there forever, anyways. Just until I get back to Ket and Tana.

Ike tossed his pack down at the top of the cliff. Tucking the fang into his belt, he climbed down the vines. At the bottom, he walked over to the same puppet he’d tested earlier. He grabbed its shoulder and gave it a good shake. Still no response.

He stepped back, taking the puppet in as one whole. Where to tap it? There’s a few obvious places, but… given that they generally have human anatomy, I, uh… He eyed the low point of the puppets’ bodies, excluding their legs. I don’t know if I can steel myself to absorb something that comes out of that part of their body. Even if I know it isn’t waste, it’s still uncomfortable.

If the obvious point was out, then where did he pivot to? Using the fang, Ike nudged the puppet’s robes aside to reveal its legs. Just above the back of the knee, maybe? I won’t feel awkward about that, and it’s a low point in the body without being too thin for the goo to flow. Plus, it’s not immediately obvious. I can’t forget that I’m stealing this, in essence.

In the best case, the person I’m stealing from doesn’t notice at all. After all, it regenerates, and pretty quickly, too. You could even think of this as me doing him a service! Wouldn’t want his precious puppets to crack from the internal pressure. Right, right. I’m a service man, here to remove the excess goo from these delicate puppets.

But just in case he doesn’t see it that way, it’s better not to be obvious.

Ike nodded to himself. He crouched, fully pushing the puppet’s robes out of the way. Grabbing the knee in one hand to pin it, he lifted the fang in the other. Here it goes. The moment of truth.

He dug the fang into the hard porcelain surface. Dust drifted down. A shallow line carved into the back of the puppet’s leg. Ike grinned. Success. As long as the fang could cut the porcelain, then he was in business. If the porcelain proved harder than the fang, he’d be out here all day for nothing at all. It was simply the way things worked: harder cut softer, but never the other way around. He knew that well enough from his days breaking monster corpses. If the skin’s fur chipped his razor, he simply had to give up.

But not this time. He lifted the fang again, cutting in a circular pattern. He wanted to remove a plug from the puppet, so he could slide it back into place for minimum disturbance—and to contain the goo when he wasn’t there to harvest it.

More dust drifted down. The cut deepened. Dust gathered on the floor beneath the puppet’s leg. Some of it accumulated on the rim of the puppet’s boot, or fell down into the ankle. Ike huffed out a breath, his arms aching. It was surprisingly hard work. It must be a higher Rank, or something. It’s not easy to cut through.

But it’s not impossible to cut, either. That means it’s my victory.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Little by little, the fang carved through the puppet. At last, the plug popped out. Ike caught it, only for a wave of black goo to wash over his hand. He quickly slipped the pan under the hole to catch the fluid. The goo gushed into the pan. Quarter full, half full, three quarters, and it kept coming.

Ike licked his lips. He glanced around, searching for somewhere to put the goo. I only brought one pan down here. Should I climb back up?

No. No time. He looked around. Reaching out from his kneel, he scooped a bunch of the vine and stick detritus under the pan, then activated Lightning Grasp and shocked the sticks until they lit on fire. He added more and more leaves, sticks, and vine bits until the fire grew to a roar. Smoke rushed up, and Ike breathed in the mana.

The pot couldn’t boil fast enough to outburn the pour of black goo. The excess black goo just fell directly into the fire, where it boiled away anyways. Mana flowed smoothly into his body, though not as smoothly as it had with the whitefeather grass.

I really need that grass.

His core filled, then overflowed. Ike pursed his lips. Practice my existing skills, or work on another one?

My Lightning Clad skills almost cover my whole body. Why don’t I finish that work?

Using the excess mana, Ike created the form of the Lightning Clad skill that covered his thigh. The mana construct floated inside of him, not yet applied to his body, but fueled with very real mana. Even maintaining the construct took a significant amount of mana. Luckily, he had a significant amount of mana to spend. This is already the largest Lightning Clad skill I have, but now I need to cover my torso. I need to make it even larger.

He eyed the structure. Just looking at it, he could already tell it would need thicker lines and more supports. Scaling it up to his thigh required more mana lines and thicker supports, so it followed that sizing it to fit his torso would need even more.

Ike stretched it out, thickening the mana lines as he went. In his mind’s eye, the structure began to collapse. He added more supports, but it kept collapsing, falling inward and backward.

Ah. Now that it’s this large, I can’t just consider it in the two-dimensional plane. I need to add supports in the three-dimensional plane as well, so it doesn’t fold like a piece of paper.

Scrapping his original attempt, Ike held the skill in his mind again. He formed mana into the construct once more. This time, when he created the base shape, he doubled it, then added struts between the two. The two-dimensional mana construct took on a third dimension. It stood upright, holding up even over the entire height of his entire torso.

Ike flicked his finger. The mana swirled through the construct. At the corners, the mana backed up, struggling to pass the right angles. He zoomed in on the corners and carefully bent the mana flows there, turning the right angles into gentle curves. Without the sharp edges, his mana flowed more smoothly. He played with the angles, adjusting them in and out until his mana flowed as smoothly as possible. Ike paused there. He looked at the mana construct, then nodded. Good enough. Let’s give it a try.

He pulled the mana construct onto his own body. Instantly, the construct’s mana drain doubled, if not tripled. The new Lightning Clad took form, but slowly, sucking mana out of him as it went. Ike stumbled as the mana poured out of his body. His core emptied rapidly, and black spots appeared before his eyes. He took a deep breath, drawing in more of the mana boiling off the pot. Come on. A little more. I’m almost there!

For a split second, Lightning Clad covered his entire body. It slipped, sliding out of his grasp. Ike gritted his teeth. He poured mana into it, forcing it to remain. I need to hold on. Just a little longer. Another…

Lightning flashed over his body, his whole chest lighting up in pure white. It crackled off of him in a great bolt. The excess lightning slammed into a tree across the way, splitting it open.

The mana construct fell apart. Lightning faded from his body, flickering to a few bare scraps.

Ike stared at the tree, eyes wide. He licked his lips. Well. That was, um. Unfortunate. I had no idea that skill was going to release electricity at random.

Did I make a mistake in forming it? Was something wrong with the shape of the mana? Ike furrowed his brows and went to call up his skill list.

Something looped around his ankle and yanked, hard.