Chapter 50: Lessons in Gravity IV

Chapter 50: 50: Lessons in Gravity IV --- He zipped around John, flicking his tail of sparks. "Again! But this time, moving target." Fizz darted to a fallen branch and nudged it with his paw until it rolled across the grass. "Hit it before it stops." John inhaled and summoned another orb. His control was sharper now. The sphere formed instantly, silent and perfect. He willed it forward, tracing the movement of the rolling branch. The orb drifted, then accelerated, finally colliding with the branch. The branch disappeared in two clean bites, one chunk after the other, leaving the remaining piece to thump onto the grass. Fizz cheered again. "Perfect! That branch is now food of void. You are officially a danger to wood." John exhaled, letting the sphere fade. His heart pounded with effort, but there was also a spark of pride. Each attempt felt easier, more natural, as if the black hole had always been a part of him, waiting for him to learn its rhythm. "Not bad for day two," he murmured. Fizz hovered beside his ear, whispering conspiratorially. "Next, we try something scarier. Moving it around yourself while you walk. Then we’ll add jumps. Then maybe flips. And eventually... we throw it at someone who screams." "Let’s stick to rocks and branches for now," John said quickly. Fizz pouted but then brightened. "Fine. But remember, the ultimate test of black hole magic is style. If the enemy isn’t terrified and a little impressed, you’re doing it wrong." John spent the rest of the morning practicing — summoning, guiding, aiming. The clearing became a gallery of strange damage: logs with clean holes, stones with missing chunks, and leaves scattered in odd patterns where the air bent around his attacks. His arms shook from exhaustion, his mana veins burned, and sweat soaked his shirt. Finally, John collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving. The forest above him was a swirl of green and gold. Fizz landed on his stomach, smug as always. "Lesson two complete. You are now slightly less hopeless than slightly less hopeless. A major promotion in Fizz Academy." John groaned, closing his eyes. "I feel like my arms are going to fall off." "Good. That means it is working. Pain is just your body saying, ’Wow, you are doing great, please keep hurting me.’" Despite his exhaustion, John laughed under his breath. The morning breeze carried the scent of pine and earth, mixing with the faint hum of mana still pulsing through his veins. He was getting stronger. Slowly, painfully, but surely. Next, they will take the next step. Fizz curled up like a warm scarf against his chest. "Wake me when it is time for lesson three. Or if pancakes appear. Either one works." John shook his head and let the quiet of the forest settle over them. His path was just beginning, but with each pull of the void in his hand, he could feel the future bending toward him. After a long rest the morning came. The forest had shifted from calm to alive as the sun climbed higher. The soft gold of morning now cut through the canopy in sharp rays, painting the mossy floor in stripes of light and shadow. Birdsong echoed in distant intervals, but closer to the ground the underbrush whispered with a different kind of life. John felt it in his chest. It was a tingle in his mana veins warning him that living things stirred nearby. Fizz hovered just above his shoulder, swaying like a gleeful lantern. His tiny wings buzzed, leaving a faint trail of reddish-orange sparks in his wake. "Alright, Master Forgetful," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of excitement and mischief. "Lesson three is here. Rocks and twigs are boring. Today we move to the fun stuff — living targets!" John groaned softly, already regretting what that meant. "By fun stuff, I assume you mean dangerous things that can fight back." Fizz’s grin widened. "Exactly. How else are you supposed to learn the thrill of your balls while trying not to die?" John tightened the straps on his leather bracer and checked his dagger. His body still ached from the previous day’s training. Mana practice burned in a way physical labor never could, leaving his muscles humming with fatigue even after sleep. But he stood and followed Fizz through the thinning trees toward a part of the forest he had yet to explore. The air grew heavier here, damp with the scent of rich soil and wet leaves. Vines dangled from twisted branches, and ferns sprouted from every patch of exposed earth. Fizz zigzagged ahead, peeking into bushes, poking at tree trunks, and occasionally singing a nonsense tune about "baby balls of doom" under his breath. [Song:] "John’s Baby ball of doom, rolling through the gloom, Gonna make the monsters go boom boom boom! Tiny little void, oh it’s so annoyed, Gonna eat the world like all the snacks I enjoyed! Left and right we swoosh, hear the forest go whoosh, Even the mushrooms run away and shush! John’s Baby balls of doom, make the squirrels go zoom, My master’s sweaty face smells like an old raccoon!" They didn’t have to search for long. A rustle erupted from the brush ahead, and a low hiss followed. The ferns parted to reveal a creature no larger than a regular size wolf, but its scaled body shimmered green and brown like living camouflage. Its head resembled a lizard’s, with long teeth glinting in the sun and slit pupil eyes that locked immediately onto John. [F-Rank Beast: Verdant Snapper. Agile monster beast. Weak point: neck.] The system’s voice slid through his thoughts, cold and precise. John’s pulse quickened. Fizz grinned and twirled midair. "Oh-ho! Perfect! A warm up dummy with legs. Try not to die, Master Forgetful." The beast crouched, muscles coiling. Then it leapt. John barely rolled aside in time, the snap of jaws echoing in his ears. His heart thundered. He scrambled to his feet and raised his right hand. Mana pulsed from his heart core into his palm, and a black orb coalesced — tiny, dense, hungry.