Episode 5: Young Trials
Chapter 015 - Trials of Hunting
Vynelor walked as the canopy thinned. Little waterfalls leaked off sharp hills, rough stone with threads of water shimmering in the afternoon light. Droplets trickled from the treetops, tapping on the ground with a steady rhythm. At least water was never a problem for them.
He traversed through the wilderness while facing the towering mountain ahead. He grinned, knowing he could never get bored with watching the monster sway back and forth. “Still the prettiest view I’ve seen.”
But he had other things to do. Vynelor found a nearby riverbank. The current flowed east with little disturbance to its smooth surface. Stopping right on the edge, he scanned the waters to see if there was any movement beneath. He crouched low, eyes narrowing. A steady trail of water passed along the surface where a cluster of reeds nestled, almost watching alongside the boy. He held his breath and extended a hand over the river.
There was a shimmer on the corner of his vision, a flick. He shot his eyes in that direction.
“There,” he whispered.
Adaptation Path — 1/5 Activated
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 26
Magic hummed through his palm. His fingers twitched as a glimmer of gold pulsing like a heartbeat rose from his skin. He shaped the threads carefully with tension riding over his muscles. Focus intensified, waiting for the right moment…
A silver dart cut through the current. Vynelor thrust his hand forward.
Threads discharged with a quiet snap, reaching to the target like arms ready to catch a fly. They splashed into the depths and cupped the body of water. Lifting it, the water burst upward in a narrow column, a wobbly ball. Vynelor looked inside, and lo and behold… nothing. Vynelor had to take a second glance at the empty sphere, hoping there was at least a small fish. But it wasn’t long until he clicked his tongue and dropped it. The ball deformed and plunged into the river with a splash. Fish scattered that he hadn’t seen.
“Ugh!” He grabbed a stone and tossed it into the river, scaring off whatever hadn’t already bolted. “That’s right! Run away! Argh! Stupid. Come on, it was right there. Stupid, stupid, stupid…”
He sat, hands dropping into the mud. Gold light still shimmered faintly around his fingers, dimming in frustration. He’d meant to pull one fish out. Just one! It was enough to walk back with a cocky grin and toss it next to Wallan’s sad little snare and convince him of a thing or two about magic.
“Magic isn’t dangerous,” Vynelor muttered. “It’s useful. Just... hard when you’re hungry… I’m hungry. Let’s try again, I suppose—”
There was a rustle behind him. He turned his head slowly.
Across the clearing, near the line of trees, something moved.
A large hare the size of his torso and long-limbed, nibbled at grass with twitching ears. Its fur was covered with streaks of mossy green. Its nose jerked as it sniffed the air. He forgot the name of this one, but it was similar to a hare. Vynelor saw this bundle of cuteness, and immediate thoughts of fish just ran from his mind. The idea of catching this one made him drool. He had to catch it.
He dropped low, crawling toward a bush, careful not to rustle the leaves too hard and startle it. His eyes locked on the animal, breathing quietly. He smirked. “This’ll be better than fish anyway.”
The hare turned but didn’t run, being too occupied with munching on grass. Vynelor inched forward, muscles coiling beneath him.
He pounced!
The bush exploded with sound. Leaves burst outward as he leapt. Arms outstretched, fingers curled. He was falling right on it, ready to catch.
But the hare darted aside in a blur. His hands hit dirt, and he tumbled forward, catching nothing but air and dust. Something about this felt like deja vu for him.
–2 HP
HP: 208 / 210
The creature bolted, jumping over roots and vanishing between the trunks.
“Hey!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet. “No you don’t!”
And like that, he ran. Branches whipped past his face as he charged through the brush. The chase was on.
His body was fully recovered from Wallan’s training, so he had enough energy to chase the hare across long distances, hopefully enough until it’d run out of stamina before him. The grumbling stomach energized him to pursue the hunk of meat. He had to thank Wallan for this one. At least for once, Quick Speed was useful.
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Adaptation Path — 1/5 Activated
Quick Speed ? Lv. 10
Vynelor’s body dashed across the land, legs driving hard as he leapt over roots and dodged trees. He chased the hare down chaotic paths, barely keeping up with its unpredictable movement. He could easily catch up, but each time he drew close, the creature veered suddenly, darting off in a new direction. When he lunged, a dense shrub slammed against him, filling his mouth with shining leaves that dissolved like steam. Then he got up and dashed forward once more.
Up the big roots he went, sizes bigger than trunks. He jumped on the edge and landed with a crash, stumbling forward before catching himself.
Above him, birds with translucent wings flew across the sky, following him in his pursuit before flying away to the distant skies. Some were runabus, those four-winged birds. Others were twice the size of hawks. Below them, fat-bellied flowers opened and closed rhythmically, releasing tiny puffs of colored spores into the air. Rocks glowed in waves with the winds—in this case, Vynelor’s trail of gust. His sandals stepped on them, leaving a green footprint in their wake.
But then the hare darted up a slanted ledge, attempting to lose him on a sharp corner. But then it stumbled on loose dirt, causing it to skid toward the edge of a slope that led to a towering, fatal drop. Vynelor didn’t hesitate. He ran and ran, feet pounding against the loose earth. The slope steepened even more, but he persisted.
He reached for the hare, fingers outstretched. “I got you!”
Suddenly, the ledge gave out.
The ground beneath them cracked, shattering as stone and dust began to split. His eyes widened as the slope moved, breaking apart like a wave. The hare tried to leap away, but again, its back foot slipped. Its little paws scraped on rock to hold on. Both of them dropped. He fell first.
A blur of trees, rocks, and water spun around him as he plummeted. Wind roared past his ears. Branches lashed his arms. Then…
Whump!
–19 HP
HP: 189 / 210
His knees got caught on a tree hooked on one of its thick limbs. His body jerked to a halt, swinging upside down. He gasped, eyes wide, chest rising and falling in panic. Blood rushed to his head. Leaves drifted past his face, spinning in lazy spirals. The impact wasn’t terrible, but he had to calm himself from the rush of fear, which could’ve been worse.
Then he heard it. It was a deep, grinding roar.
He looked up (or down, based on his posture) at the mountain.
A massive boulder, half the size of a cart, had torn loose from the slope. Cracks slithered across the surface relentlessly. Vines and roots stretched and stretched until they snapped in the middle. Debris rained right on top of Vynelor. It tumbled end over end. The hare clung for dear life at the top with legs splayed. The boulder and the hare were falling toward him. Fast.
Vynelor’s body tensed. “No—no no no!”
He raised his hand, still upside down. The sky above him warped. Light shimmered across his skin as his focus narrowed, all fear swept aside by a single desperate intent.
Adaptation Path — 1/5 Activated
Telekinetic Magic ? Lv. 26
Magic flared.
Gold light surged from his palm, arcing like lightning through the air. It shot upward and wrapped the boulder like a net, stopping it mid-air with a deep, metallic hum. Leaves tore free from branches. A ring of dust blew outward.
The boulder hovered just feet above him, vibrating with immense weight that could easily squash trees. Veins of gold cracked along its surface. His arm trembled. The strain pushed sweat down his brow. Blood still rushed to his head, turning his face into a tomato. A thick vein popped on the side, his cheeks puffing up.
“Don’t… drop… come on,” he hissed, wheezing air out of his tight throat. “Make your dad proud… Come on…”
The hare’s eyes were wide and almost in disbelief, still clinging to the rock. Its nose twitched over and over, the whiskers bobbing rapidly like the senses were overloaded. It didn’t even try to leap away.
His other hand joined the first. A pulse of light burst from his chest. The magic swelled, surrounding the entire boulder in a rotating halo. The air shimmered. Leaves bent toward him. Trees around him leaned ever so slightly, responding to the shift in the air’s magic.
Vynelor could feel the weight like holding a mountain on his shoulders. He couldn’t hold that heavy boulder for too long. He had to put it down somewhere, just not on him. His arms moved down, lowering the bundle of magic and the boulder.
It lowered inch by inch to the ground below. By the time it touched down, gold threads unraveled themselves. The shimmering lines of magic remained bright, thin, and translucent like glass dust in the air. His fingers twitching slightly as the energy rippled outward in gentle pulses, just enough to keep the boulder encased.
The hare froze atop it, its nose still twitching. Its muscles were coiled, ready to flee. But the invisible weight of magic pinned it in place.
Vynelor slowly, and with utmost care, swung his body up, grunting as he twisted and pulled until his knees slipped free. He then dropped. With a grunt, he landed hard in a bush, barely catching himself. Dirt smudged his elbows. One knee scraped raw on a thick branch. But the spell held.
He stood hunched, breath tearing out of his lungs. He approached slowly, staring at the boulder. His hand remained extended, golden threads tethering him like puppet strings.
When he reached it, he paused. The hare looked at him, copper eyes wide, body still shivering.
“Phew,” he panted.
With one hand holding the magic steady, he reached his other hand and grabbed the hare by its hind legs. It kicked a couple of times. But afterward, it gave up.
He lifted it gently and exhaled with relief. His shoulders slumped. Magic fizzled away from his fingertips at last, and the golden threads evaporated into thin air. The system flickered here and there, but it didn’t interrupt him this time.
As he was minding his business—just drooling over the caught food, there was a small rustle in the bushes. He lifted his head, but he saw nothing. It sounded like he was being watched by something. Perhaps it was an animal. The branches left no trace of light, though the leaves swayed as if something had been standing there. He thought nothing of it.
Nonetheless, his eyes veered back to what was in front of him, all the possibilities of a delicious, rounded meal when the chopped meat would be boiling in the pot.
“Well… that worked. You’re mine now. I’ll tell that old man what I did.”
The hare sneezed.

