24 – Badger Badger Badger

It did not take long for Igrette to finish her business in the ritual circle. She had barely disappeared behind the stone pillars when Jonny heard the sound of a blade cutting through flesh followed by a chittering that lessened with every second. Soon, there was only one dire badge making noise, and Igrette emerged from the ruins once more. She looked like she was walking, but each step carried her a dozen feet as the dire badger scrambled after her.

“Be ready!” she called. “It’s coming.”

Jonny felt like that statement was pointless, but nevertheless, he readied his stance, waiting for the approaching beast. It was bigger than he expected, almost at eye level with him, and with bristly white fur on its back sticking up almost another foot. It was growling, and making strange chittering noises like an angry jackhammer as it tried to reach Igrette, but to no avail.

When Igrette was twenty feet or so away from Jonny, she suddenly leaned forward, dashing past him in a gust of wind. He didn’t bother turning around to see where she had gone. The badger didn’t care. It was now staring at him with feral hatred in its eyes, and growling even louder than before.

Knowing better than to take the charge of a larger opponent head on, Jonny waited for it to get near, then dashed aside, letting it charge past. He turned toward it, hoping to repeat the same tactic he had used against the boar and tackle it from the side, but unlike the boar, the badger was maneuverable. Before he even finished turning, it was also starting to turn, hissing at him as its claws dug into the ground beneath the snow.

Jonny aborted his tackle attempt, instead just stepping a bit closer and readying himself. He wasn’t quite inside its range, or his own range, but he didn’t want to let it build up momentum again.

It lunged at him, claws outstretched, trying to rake across his throat, just like Igrette had predicted. He pivoted on his foot, letting the claws sail past his face, and at the same time delivered a hook to its unprotected side. With his entire body empowered by compressed mana, the hook landed solidly with a dull thud, sending a ripple through the badger’s fur.

Immediately, it leapt back, eying him cautiously. It circled around him for a couple steps, limping on the side where he had hit it. He knew he hadn’t done any serious damage, but that punch had to have hurt. And it hurt enough to turn the vicious creature cautious, if only for a moment.

The badger soon grew tired of caution, and lunged again. It had not learned its lesson at all, and Jonny repeated the exact same counter. This time, he felt a crack under his fist, and the badger whined in pain.

Jonny stepped forward, pressing his advantage and punching it directly in the snout. There was another crack, and a spray of blood, and the badger cried out again. It stood up on its hind legs, flailing widely, but Jonny just stepped back, and darted in again as soon as it came back down. He punched it in the face again, this time with a hook, which seemed to daze it, and followed with an uppercut.

The badger staggered backward, and Jonny followed, landing blow after blow on its unprotected head. Sometimes, it would try a wild counter, but with each strike he landed, it seemed to lose more control of its body, and after just ten seconds, it collapsed to the ground, barely conscious.

Jonny stood over it, watching it gasp for breath as blood poured from his nose. This would usually be the part where the ref would jump in, pulling him away and making him stop, but not this time. There was no referee, there was no bell, and there was no stopping.

“Finish it,” said Igrette’s voice from somewhere behind him. “Don’t prolong its suffering.”

Jonny still hesitated. He had killed the primaboar, but back then, it had truly been life or death. Kill, or be killed. Here, it had barely been a contest. He was unscathed, and not even winded, and it was bleeding from the nose and mouth, and so concussed it couldn’t even stand.

But Igrette was right. Even if he let it live, would it survive with these wounds? And if it did, would it be safe? If Anna was about to form a core layer, and it was still around, it would come back to attack her. Letting it live would just be sentencing it to pain and suffering until it died for good a few days from now.

He took a deep breath, using the breathing to compress his mana further, then infused his body while raising his fist. He brought it down, and the badger’s body twitched. He struck again, and he felt a crack, but the badger still twitched. On the third strike, there was an even louder crack, and it finally went still.

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He turned around to look for Igrette, only to find her getting to her knee in front of him and pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

What have I done?

Igrette was mortified as she embraced Jonny and stared at the corpse of the dire badger she had made him kill. She didn’t originally mean for it to go this far. She didn’t expect it to be this fast. She hadn’t even expected Jonny to win the fight. A dire badger was not an opponent he should have been able to handle.

Even as oddly skilled as he was, the beast was still stronger and faster, and he was only five. He didn’t have a weapon. It was supposed to be a lesson on reality and danger. Perhaps a bit of an extreme lesson, but she felt it was something he needed to understand. The life and death battle he had before was very different from being biting off more than he could chew and being outmatched.

Except he wasn’t outmatched.

He didn’t fight like a five year old. She had already known about his perfect striking form, and had heard about his defeat of the primaboar, but this was something else entirely. He didn’t push himself. He was never in any danger. It was a one-sided slaughter, and the entire time, his gaze was that of an experienced master, picking apart a weaker opponent.

Impossible.

It was the only word she could think of to describe him. He was too skilled. Too experienced. He fought like someone who had been fighting for decades, and for a moment, she had forgotten herself. She spoke to him like she spoke to her past trainees when they were acting soft. Mercy had no place on a battlefield, and even less of a place against magic beasts. Magic beasts were not always so aggressive, but when they were, and they were this close to human civilization, putting them down was a necessity.