CHAPTER 52: 52: LESSONS IN GRAVITY VI

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The distortion rippled, and part of its front leg disappeared into the void. The Snapper howled, its momentum breaking as it tumbled to the ground, rolling across the grass and snapping at the air in confused rage.

"Yes!" Fizz spun in ecstatic circles, leaving a trail of red-orange sparks. "Yes! You did it! Partial devour, front row seat to the buffet of doom balls!"

John stumbled back, gasping. His mana drain was real now, a deep ache in his chest. He let the sphere vanish before it pulled more than he could spare. His whole body trembled from the strain.

The Verdant Snapper was bleeding heavily but still alive. Its eyes glimmered with feral rage as it staggered to its feet, crouched low, and began to circle him. It moved slower now, but each step was deliberate, predatory.

John’s muscles screamed, but he forced his body to follow the rotation, his hand raised, ready to summon again.

Fizz hovered beside his ear, voice lower now, almost serious. "You’re getting better. Less wobbly. But you can’t let it get comfortable. Animals like this... if it thinks you’re weak, it’ll go for your throat."

"I noticed," John muttered, never taking his eyes off the beast.

The Snapper darted forward in a feint. John almost flinched but held his ground. His mana coiled again, and he willed another orb into existence. This one formed more smoothly, almost eager, humming in his palm with that familiar weight.

"Lead your target," Fizz said. "Make it run into your death marble."

John inhaled, watching the beast’s muscles tense. He could almost predict the lunge now. He raised his palm, waited half a heartbeat longer than instinct told him, and then pushed.

The Snapper leapt, and the black hole drifted forward.

It hit.

The void ate half of the beast’s torso before John willed it to dissipate, his mana drained. The Snapper hit the ground and convulsed, then went still, its body broken and mangled by the silent pull of nothingness.

John fell to one knee again, panting, his arms trembling violently. Sweat dripped from his jaw, and he felt both exhausted and exhilarated.

Fizz hovered above the corpse, doing a celebratory flip. "Victory! Behold, the mighty Master Forgetful has slain his first terrifying forest gecko with magic! Fear his baby doom balls!"

John groaned, leaning against a nearby tree. "I... need... water."

"Water is for the weak. Victory speeches are for the strong," Fizz said, puffing out his tiny chest. He zipped down and poked the Snapper’s body with one paw. "And stay dead, you overgrown belt. Nobody bites my human master except for me... in an emotional support way."

John managed a laugh between breaths, shaky but genuine. His arms felt like lead, and his mana reserves were dangerously low. Yet beneath the exhaustion, he felt the faint spark of pride. He was learning. Slowly, painfully, but learning.

Fizz perched on his shoulder, warm and smug. "Lesson three complete! You can now officially bully things that move, as long as they’re slow and dumb. Tomorrow... we will try something smarter. Or maybe two of them. Or maybe I will just throw a squirrel at you for practice."

"Please... no squirrels," John muttered, slumping against the tree and letting his eyes close for just a moment.

The forest around them hummed quietly, the air rich with the scent of moss, blood, and victory. Sunlight streamed through the branches, catching on the small motes of dust and mist. For now, the clearing was calm again.

"I am not the morning kind of guy. I need more sleep." Fizz yawned loudly, curling up in John’s hood like a smug little crown. "You did good, Master Forgetful. Slightly better than less hopeless today. Still hopeless... but slightly less."

John didn’t even have the strength to argue. He let his head rest back against the bark, the hum of mana slowly settling in his veins, and allowed himself a moment of hard earned peace.

A few hours later...

The forest was alive with strong noon sunlight when John opened his eyes after some mana recovery and rest. His entire body ached, but it was the satisfying ache of progress. Every muscle from his shoulders to his fingertips throbbed from channeling mana through his Black Hole Palm over and over. His arms felt heavier than usual, as though the void had left a lingering weight on him.

Fizz was already awake, hovering a few feet above his head and munching on what looked suspiciously like John breakfast. Tiny bits of food clung to his fur. Fizz already ate his when John was fighting.

"Fou cre pake, Mater pogetful," he said with his mouth full.

"First, finish your food then talk. I don’t understand what you are saying?"

Fizz swallowed the food, he said, "You are awake, master forgetful. You didn’t die in your sleep. I am almost proud."

John groaned and sat up, rolling his sore shoulders. "Do you have to call me that?"

"Yes. It’s legally binding in the Lord Fizz Code of Comedy." He tossed the food leaf rapper into the bushes and zipped into John’s face with his usual manic grin. "Ready for Lesson Five?"

John blinked slowly. "Lesson Five? Did I even finish Lesson Four?"

Fizz twirled in the air and pointed dramatically at the forest. "If I say, it’s lesson five then it’s lesson five. Don’t question your teacher. Numbers aren’t important. Now listen to me, Lesson Five is hitting many things that move... without crying. So now, we hunt multiple beasts."

John hesitated. "Multiple? I can barely handle one F-rank Snapper at a time. I need more practice."

Fizz tapped his nose. "Exactly. Which is why we are going to find the weakest F-rank things with the largest egos. Perfect training dummies for you."

"Alright, let’s do it."

John stood, brushed off his pants, and followed Fizz into the trees. His mana pool had refilled near half, and the system pulsed quietly at the edge of his awareness. He could feel the subtle hum of life in the world around him, the threads of mana in the air like whispers waiting to be caught by him.