Chapter 159: Fight or flight

Chapter 159: Fight or flight

“Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.”

W.B. Yeats

Our baseline assessment went much the same as last time. It was kind of like going up a grade in school. The new teacher wanted to make their own assessment. We worked our way through the skills of running, swimming, diving, climbing, riding, and every weapon skill. He had an aversion to water so watched the swimming and diving but everything else he accompanied me in doing.

“You have a lot of common skills. But they are called common for a reason. The easiest and simplest skills you will be looked down on if this is the extent of your physical skills.”

“I have a few more common physical skills Breath Control, Dodge, Listening, Sneak, Balance, Throw,Poise, Grace, Ambidextrous, Sight, Scent, Detect, Taste, Silent Step, Deft touch, Posture, Dance, Sprint.” He tested each and every one before he quizzed me over their levels.

“It is surprising that you have developed some sensory skills, but they seem to have been neglected compared to the rest of the skill levels.” He had obviously been forewarned as to the number of skills I held if not the actual ones as he showed no surprise and there was little praise only acknowledgement before moving on to the next test. “Let’s move onto the next level. If you list them we will work through them from there.”

Quick reflexes had me attempting to snatch items out of his hand or prevent him from doing the same. Eavesdrop meant I was listening to their conversation from a gradually increasing distance until I could no longer do so. The added complication was that he was talking in beastkin half the time. Pain Tolerance was left at just a level after a quiet conversation with my grandfather. Stealth was practically impossible to win against two sensory specialists, but I tried nonetheless. Knife Arts and Martial Arts had me fending off either knives or his fists. He was careful to keep his wicked claws out of play. Poison Tolerance also avoided assessment, but again the conversation I eavesdropped in on was along the lines of ‘something, something you need to run by his mother first’.

Namir finally showed some level of being impressed when I showed him my Seismic Sense and how it was able to defeat at least at close range his stealth as I was able to sense the impression of his footfalls. Except for flight, the rest of my skills were either mental or magical, and after a short demonstration of flight, we were finally able to test whether I could run on water or not.

“Ready? Namir asked.

“Yes?” I answered unsurely. I knew I was a lot quicker than the average person, at least back in my world, and hopefully, as light as I was it would take less speed to stay on top of the water. I had heard of a lizard that could dash across the top of the water, but I did not have webbed feet to do that. The difference was I knew this was possible, I had watched both Namir and my grandfather race across the top of the water. I needed to put aside my disbelief and believe it was possible. I just needed to go fast enough. Putting aside my fears, I braced myself to race, to sprint out onto the water.

“Then go!” Namir shouted the command.

I tore off the ground, racing across the levelled stone that slowly dipped into the water. It was a launching place we had smoothed out for boats to be brought out of the water and it gave me solid footing to build up my speed before I reached the water . . .

. . . and kept going.

Ding! Dart (Lv1)

I was going fast enough. I whooped in glee. I could run on water. Why had I never thought to test this before? Arawn and Namir flashed into existence alongside me, guiding me back toward the island before I ran out of stamina. Once I was once more pointed in the right direction they left me behind clearly more comfortable going a little quicker over the water. I pushed myself harder to keep up.

Ding! Flash Step (Lv1)

And promptly faceplanted into the water at speed as my mana dipped, and I missed a step ploughing through the water on my front. I kept myself flat and slid onto the landing area on my front. Looking up to see my grandfather doubled over laughing at my unexpected soaking. Even Namir looked a little perturbed by my acquisition of two skills in a single run.

“Who is going first?” asked one of the eldest cousins.

“It’s all of you versus me.” He replied calmly, although a grin was growing on his face.

“All of us?” asked one of the girls.

“The balls can represent spells being thrown; the clothes can be wrapped around any weapons you already have, while the sticks can be daggers. There are no rules other than once you have been tagged, you have to fall down dead. Are you ready?”

“Even Lady Acacia?” the girl questioned.

“Even Lady Acacia, how else would I make evident the importance of physical skills over magical.” He replied before quickly adding, “Ready, go!” Before Lady Acacia could object to joining the game.

“I ob . . .” was as far as she got before pandemonium broke out. We all rushed to reposition, but he was not focused on us. He flashed toward Lady Acacia at a speed I doubted few of us good follow. A wooden wall flashed up to bar his path, but it mattered little as he simply scaled it coming down practically on top of Lady Acacia and covering her in white. We all froze as we watched a demure and dignified tutor struggle to control her temper with her erstwhile former friend.

“You have to pretend to be dead.” He explained slowly as if to a child.

After staring at him initially in anger at the state of her dress, she finally calmly collapsed to the floor with reluctance and a fair amount of exasperation. Once there, she entered the spirit of the game rolling her eyes and crying out, “You got me.” Her hand clasped to her breast as if mortally wounded.

We had frozen in bewilderment at our strict teacher playing up her demise. Fortunately, Namir woke us from our trance with another shout, “Ready, go!”

Our cousins reacted instinctually with either fight or flight. His position was bombarded with thrown balls of paint from the girls while some of the boys rushed to try and tag him with their sticks. But wherever they threw their paint, he was not there. Their siblings tagged a few of those rushing in in a devolving mess of paint and chaos. The rules stated that it was only if they were hit with white that they had to feign death, and they continued to chase after him slashing, even throwing their weapons after him in an attempt to tag him. However, he remained untouched, casually slipping through the gaps and tagging anyone who dared to attack.

The other half of our cousins, though, were fleeing. Retreat being the better part of valour and the wiser course of action, I fled with them. We scrambled up the walls and steps of the cauldron garden as he took out the braver members of our extended family. I was no longer the slowest in the group, and my earlier exhibit of running of water inspired me to make full use of my skills, running, sprint, dart and even flash step, quickly outpacing my cousins. I reached the top of the ridge line and turned to find my cousins being mercilessly mowed down with white paint by the monster flashing up the incline.

His initial victims were sitting up now, watching the unfolding carnage. I took one last look before throwing myself off the ridgeline to make my flight no longer figurative but literal. Out of sight of my cousins, I had a moment's thought of pride, thinking I had made it before he came swooping down out of the sky, having launched himself off the ridgeline.

“Look out.” Shouted Cal as I dived down along the contour of the mountain. Throwing mana into my skills to blow me out of the way. I had started multiple minds as soon as he had outlined the competition. The extra mind helped me plot my course and prepare my route. It was not enough to stop him from descending past my flying form and flinging three white balls into my curving path.

Splat. Splat. Splat.

I was out.

But at least I was the last.