Unchosen Champion

Coop’s heavy spear blasted into the ground with a muted thump that vibrated across the sea. The water level had gone down with the tide, leaving the surface just below knee height as the day wound down. Even during low tide, his spear impacts were streamlined enough to slice straight through the surface with barely any splash, leaving the collision insulated by the surrounding shallow water.

He continued to experiment as he attacked the monsters, making some discoveries, but nothing that would hasten his grind. If he adjusted the arc so that the spear didn’t come straight down, and increased the rotation on the shaft of his spear by dragging his fingertips as he released the weapon, he could make the landing more destructive, but neither would help the efficiency of his hunt. Small adjustments hadn’t revealed any new, hidden tricks just yet.

Despite grinding for hours, Coop hadn’t actually seen a single Primal Kite. Every single one had been destroyed before coming out of its dormant state, sniped by his arcing spears before they had any idea they were being targeted. Sure, it was a bit unfair, but they deserved what they got, as far as Coop was concerned. It wasn’t like the Primal Constructs would have played fair if the shoe was on the other foot.

“8.2” “8.7” The judges declared firmly, not leaving any room for dispute. A pretty middling score, considering he was over a thousand repetitions into his grind.

“Come on, that was a perfect splash.” Coop argued as he resummoned his spear and threw it again. A little gamesmanship with the umpires was worth a try. The scores may have been meaningless, but his latent competitiveness still demanded he aim for better. The grind demanded that he wasted no time between throws, so he argued while he took his next shot.

“The sound wasn’t right.” Camila explained her expert reasoning. “We’re looking for a thunk instead of a thump for maximum points.”

“The arc was too fat.” Charlie added dismissively as if she was a professional. “Needs to be more up and down.” She moved her hand through the ocean air to demonstrate the shape she was looking for.

“That’s true too, you need to get under it more, Coop.” Camila concurred, lifting her faux aviator sunglasses, crafted by the artisans of Ghost Reef, up above her eyes to get a better look for herself.

The next spear throw landed with a more condensed thump, but even Coop didn’t hear a thunk. It had been roughly 20 seconds since the previous barrage. Coop had slowly cut down on the flight time, seeking a sweet spot, but the variable distances meant that his attacks fluctuated with a pretty wide margin considering the total amount of time each throw took. The shortest flights were closer to 10 seconds, and if he got frustrated enough to use more Strength, he could extend it upwards of a minute or two.

“9.1” “9.3” The judges announced. He smiled at Charlie. The mousy park ranger was reliably more generous with her scores.

Camila and Charlie had joined him as the tide receded, bringing a pair of lounge chairs and perching themselves nearby. They claimed the highest point of the sandbar and sunned themselves while Coop chained his spear throws one after the other.

At first, they had come to investigate what he was doing. The fog was visible from the fort and left the sentries a bit confused. Evidently, Coop’s domain was covering more than one square mile, and with the aid of Presence of Mind, he was able to hit anywhere inside that area with disconcerting precision. The only time he had any off-target throws was when he was testing the limits of the arcs. It turned out the Kites were dug in pretty deep, flattening themselves beneath a significant layer of sand, with their tentacles coiled and ready to spring from beneath them, almost as if they were trying to stay dry beneath the ocean.