Skill-Eater: Prison World Saga-Chapter 160: Mini

To Edge’s surprise, the skill perched atop the crystal hillock took the form of the garax itself. This bipedal dinosaur was only twice his size, but everything else about it looked just as lethal as the original.

He had never encountered an epic skill before and didn’t know what to expect. So far, each increase in rarity had magnified the power’s energetic presence, and its ability to resist the intrusion of his chains.

Some skills, most notably elemental blade, had seemed like they could hurt Edge if his mental manifestation tried to interact with them. Intimidating roar took that sensation of menace to a whole new level, sending a fresh surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

None of that prepared him for what happened next. Instead of waiting for him to make his move, the miniature garax looked straight at him and came charging down the hillside—indistinguishable from an enraged predator going for the kill.

That was when he felt something through his bond to the black chains. Their insatiable hunger was tempered by a hearty dose of respect… along with what could only be described as a reluctance to engage. Ah hell. The chains are afraid of it. That can’t be good.

In that moment, Edge knew he was in danger. That the inside of the behemoth’s core was about to become just as hazardous as the battle raging within the farmstead. He turned to run, trying to buy some time while he decided what to do next. Whether he should exit the core early and abandon the skill or turn and fight—battling alongside his chains for the first time.

The problem was, he couldn’t use any of his skills inside another creature’s core. While his weapon had come with him, his naginata was woefully insufficient for the task at hand.

While he thought the matter through, Edge started sprinting toward the great emerald tree—intending to circle the trunk until he had come up with some manner of plan. Buy me some time, but don’t let the dino take you out of the fight. His chains were happy to follow his orders on this occasion. While he tried to open some distance, the living links moved to intercept the mini-garax—not trying to bind it, but to distract and slow it down.

It was then that he learned an important fact about [Extracting] epic skills. While he couldn’t use any of his powers while visiting another creature’s core, the ones that lived inside them suffered no such limitation.

Before he could take ten steps, the mini-garax opened its mouth and roared. Unlike his earlier battle with the behemoth, this intimidating roar was targeted—concentrated in the direction of Edge and his chains. It magnified its might, and this time he couldn’t use shadow step to shrug off the effect.

The full power of the epic skill broke over him in a paralyzing blend of sound and sensation. It was a deep, guttural scream that spoke to him on a primal level—bringing instincts rising to the surface that had been branded into mankind’s DNA in an age long since passed. A time before history, when humankind’s distant ancestors were prey to the titanic predators that roamed the primeval Earth.

He knew that the fear was the product of the skill manipulating his brain, but that insight didn’t help him at all.

It was the most terrifying moment of Edge’s life. It wasn’t just a matter of triggering his flight or fight response. This level of fear went way beyond that. It made him freeze every muscle in his body—limbs shaking like reeds in a hurricane.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. He couldn’t even breathe, although fortunately he didn’t need to in this state.

The effect of intimidating roar on his chains was just as pronounced. They came to a screeching stop, hanging in the air like they were suspended by strings. The instant that the living links came to a halt, he felt fury radiating from his core like heat from a bonfire. The black chains were only one small extension of Skill-Eater’s will, but it refused to let them be violated in such a manner.

It was the ruler of skills, not the other way around. Its anger came coursing through their bond, until his rage was even greater than his hunger. The roiling tide of emotion kept growing by the heartbeat, until Edge wasn’t afraid anymore, he was fucking pissed. It weakened roar’s effect on his mental state, but Skill-Eater didn’t have the strength to counter the epic skill head-on. At least not at this stage.

His chains struggled to break free from the garax’s power as Edge fought to regain control over his body. But it was no use. Without shadow step, he was helpless to resist the potent mana coursing throughout his nerves—overriding the signals from his brain.

The mini-garax began sauntering over, ignoring the immobile chains. It came to a stop in front of him, looking down at Edge like he was nothing. A bug that had crawled its way into a place that it didn’t belong.

He was certain that the skill-in-beast-form was going to kill him as soon as it finished savoring the moment. He honestly wasn’t sure what would happen if it did. If he would snap back into his body, die on the spot, or have his consciousness erased—leaving an empty shell behind.

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Edge really didn’t want to find out. He stared up as the predator opened its jaws while deciding which part of him to devour first. Then, in that horrible, helpless moment, he remembered something important. Wait. Whenever I’ve Extracted a rare skill, I had to spend Mortium. Why didn’t that happen this time?

That was when he realized that his Guide was already floating in the periphery of his vision, waiting for him to acknowledge its presence. He had been so hyper focused stealing the skill that he hadn’t noticed until now.

Edge willed the golden mote to turn into a screen. When it did, the message he was hoping for appeared on the display, along with some details that he wasn’t expecting.

To claim an epic skill, you must spend 10 Mortium and two charges of [Extraction].

Warning: Success is not guaranteed. If you fail to subdue the epic skill, the Mortium will be lost.

Ten Mortium was a considerable fortune. Enough for Edge to steal five rare skills or pick up something good at Lilly’s exchange. He spent it without hesitation. Not only was his heart set on claiming intimidating roar, there was a good chance that he was going to die if he didn’t act fast.

The instant that he acknowledged the prompt, frigid power began pumping into him. It wasn’t mana, potentia, or any other form of energy that he recognized. It felt mysterious and final, like death itself was coursing through his veins. It spread out from his core, saturating his body along with his chains.

It made him wonder what Mortium really was, but now wasn’t the time to think the matter through. All that mattered was that the energy flowing through his limbs allowed him to move once more—shaking off the effects of the paralyzing roar just in time to avoid being decapitated by the mini-garax’s bite.

Its jaws snapped shut over the space that his head had occupied a fraction of a heartbeat prior, as Edge darted back to open some room. As he took his stance and raised his naginata in front of him, his chains fell into position on both sides—guarding his flanks while waiting for his command.

He wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, but he could sense that it wouldn’t last long. That the boost provided by the Mortium would only endure for a few minutes at most, counting by the subjective time that passed inside the garax’s core.

The epic skill opened its mouth and roared again. But this time, it didn’t have any effect at all. The death-aspected energy permeating Edge’s body rebuffed the invading mana while filling him with an inexorable strength.

The mini-garax tried one last time, then came charging in with both sets of scythe-claws poised to strike. If its roar didn’t work, it would finish off the intruders the old-fashioned way—tearing them apart with its impressive natural weaponry.

The pivotal moment had arrived, and Edge didn’t hesitate or hold back. He threw himself into the battle without a second thought—actively participating in a contest to steal a skill for the first time.

He almost got taken out then and there by a vicious swipe. Even without its roar, the mini-garax was just as dangerous as a regular dinosaur. It was powerful enough to kill him in a single blow if it scored a direct hit.

Luckily, Edge wasn’t fighting alone. The chain on his left grabbed his waist and pulled him out of the way, while the one on the right lashed forward like a whip. It landed a solid strike on the dino’s chest before pulling away in a ripple of links.

A fierce battle between man, chains, and embodied skill ensued. Over the next breathless minute, he learned that his chains were perfect partners. They could sense his intentions and respond to his desires without needing a conscious command.

But they were self-aware too and could act on their own initiative. They attacked and defended—taking advantage of openings, even when Edge didn’t notice them himself. He drew on every scrap of his training and every attribute point that he had. He thrust and he chopped, dodged and ducked, using every trick that he’d learned since coming to Ord and fighting with his life on the line.

He scored two long cuts along the mini-garax’s flank during the exchange, while taking a headbutt that cracked several ribs. The wounds hurt just as much in here as they did in the real world, and they were far more dangerous, since he couldn’t rely on regeneration to heal the damage.

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Edge was in peak condition and putting on the best performance of his life. The problem was, he could sense the power lent by the Mortium beginning to wane. Another minute, tops, and it would fade away, leaving him at the mercy of intimidating roar once more.

He needed to finish the fight, and he needed to do it now. Alright guys, he sent his intentions into his chains. It’s time to go all out. Here’s what I have in mind.

The instant that he visualized his plan, he sprang into motion—unleashing a wicked swing with his polearm that drove the dino back. Meanwhile, the black links spread out to come at the skill from both sides at once. The garax darted back in and lunged for Edge, letting the chains attack from the sides.

One wrapped around each of its legs, while he dodged another bite with inches to spare. The bound beast let out a furious roar that made a spike of fear ripple throughout his body. There were only a few seconds left on the Mortium he’d spent. His last chance of victory was fading away.

To make matters worse, the mini-garax shrieked and bit down on one of the chains. For the first time, Edge saw the living links take damage while subduing a skill. The thick loops cracked, on the verge of shattering—forcing that chain to withdraw from the core or risk being destroyed.

Before the dino could follow up, the other chain yanked hard and pulled it off balance. The moment that the beast turned to chomp it, Edge committed to an all-or-nothing attack. He stepped forward and lunged, putting the full power of his Mortium-enhanced body behind the blow. If this didn’t work, he was going to lose the skill and his life shortly after.

Just before the mini-garax took out the remaining black chain, Edge’s naginata caught it square in the throat. To his relief, the claw-blade penetrated—biting deep into its tissue. It felt different from stabbing a living beast, but that didn’t matter. What was important was that the attack had critically wounded the skill.

He pulled the blade out, rotated the shaft of the polearm behind his body, and then brought the weapon around for a second pass—shearing the beast’s left arm off at the shoulder. Just to be safe, he repeated the move and cut off the right for good measure.

With the last of his strength, Edge jammed the tip into the mini-garax’s stomach, as the Mortium faded away. It had been close, but the battle was already won. The skill was severely weakened and couldn’t roar, letting the black chain yank it free from the core.