I run.

  She roars in anger, but I ignore it. I already know that I can out-pace her, so I do just that as I flee the camp, leaving her behind. I know I can beat her, but I need to recover first. The wounds she just inflicted are more than lethal if I don’t give Arcane Regulation and my regen time to work.

  In less than ten seconds, I’m back in the trees, cutting a zig-zagging path through their trunks. After another ten seconds, when she’s lost sight of me, I quickly make my way up into the branches of the nearest tree, hidden from the raging hobgoblin as she tears a path through the brush below, roaring and screaming as she searches for me and her ax.

  I watch her from above as I shift to focus on healing. Fae Ferocity is still active, pushing me to make her pay, and I agree with it fully. But I can still think about how best to go about it.

  Reaching over my shoulder with my uninjured arm, I yank the ax out. Thanks to all the bleeding, I had just under ten percent of my health left. But without the physical obstruction, I could actually heal.

  It hurts like all hells, and itches even worse, but thankfully it only takes another twenty or so seconds to recover fully.

  Once it's done, I focus on my enemy, waiting for the right moment to drop. She holds her hand out before her, waving it this way and that.

  Thanks to her lack of subtlety, it's clear that she's able to feel the axes general location. It’s obviously not as accurate as she’d like though, given she hadn't managed to rip it from my shoulder before I ran away.

  Regardless, it’s enough to get her close.

  When she’s finally just a few paces from the tree I perch in, I pounce. Using her own weapon, I cleave downwards with my fall, using the momentum to add to the force behind my blow. Sadly, she must have heard me coming, because she looks up at the same time and, with a shout of panic, holds her own ax up to block.

  The clang of metal on metal is deafening, and the force of my blow is enough to force her down to one knee. She’s not caught completely off guard, though, and she pulls on the axe in my hands once more, throwing me off balance.

  Her axe follows, and I move.

  I feel calm as I dodge her first attack. I meet her gaze with a glare of my own as I use my now healed right arm to counter-attack, much to her surprise. She still manages to barely avoid it. It was within my expectations, though.

  My attacks are more limited, for two reasons. The feeling I get from my Skills is that having a weapon at all is worse than pointless. It’s straight-up detrimental. Then, to add to that, her outstretched hand emits a constant pull on the ax I hold, forcing me to adapt.

  She pulls on it when I try to dodge, making it harder to get out of the way. Then she'll release it when I'm mid attack, attempting to make me overextend.

  It's infuriating.

  Even so, I keep her ax, knowing that if she had it I’d be hard pressed to evade every strike. Just the one is enough to keep me on edge. Despite the limitation, I manage to land a few hits, but none in any critical locations. The mana I release into her does seem to be doing damage though, if her grunts of pain are anything to go by.

  Time passes like this, a flurry of attacks dodged and parried, occasionally taking glancing blows and landing mana infused strikes. I even start weaving in strikes with the ax for a moment, but she nearly cuts my hand off when she unexpectedly stops and restarts pulling on it for just an instant.

  So I decide to just keep it as out of the way as possible instead. This just infuriates her further, and she starts to target my left arm more often, trying to free her weapon.

  That's when she notices I'm healing faster than she can hurt me, and she switches tactic. She starts aiming almost exclusively for my head and neck when she isn't focusing on my arm, giving me less and less opportunities to strike back.

  But as the seconds turn into minutes, the fighting becomes easier, and I realize that my regeneration offers an endurance that she can’t seem to match. Meanwhile, she's been giving it her all, expending all of her energy in an effort to kill me… and growing more and more exhausted as she did.

  While I feel my own exhaustion creeping in, it's a slow thing. At least, compared to her.

  She slows further, and with my confidence growing, I start taking more chances to land attacks of opportunity. But everything changes after just a few slip past her guard.

  I'm mid strike when she explodes with a new skill, her entire body glowing with a red haze and her eyes bloodshot with fury and hatred. I know it’s some form of Frenzy or Berserker Rage the instant she activates it, and I’m almost too slow to get out of the way.

  She lunges—too fast. I twist with my strike, barely managing a glancing blow across her ribs and taking a half-step back. It still isn’t enough to completely avoid her attack.

  Her ax slices through the flesh of my throat, maybe just a knuckle deep, opening it to the air. The pain is surprisingly manageable, but the wound brings with it a newfound panic that nearly overwhelms my senses.

  Blessedly, it isn’t enough to kill me, as I'm not close enough for it to open my major veins. It's still enough to put me well within the danger zone, and my throat starts filling with blood. My windpipe clogs, sending me into an agony filled coughing fit.

  I instantly back off, but I don’t shift my mana regen away from Enhance Body because I need every stat point I can get right now. Backing off only buys me a split second, and I find myself entirely on the defense, dodging an incoming flurry of swings while coughing up gobs of blood.

  Thankfully, she stopped pulling on the ax once the skill activated. I take full advantage of it, enjoying the chance to evade without being thrown off balance. Even still, it's barely enough.

  Seconds pass, and the gaping wound in my neck seals itself shut with the most uncomfortable burning sensation I’ve ever felt. Each second passes in a blur of constant struggles to avoid death blow after death blow. New wounds come and go, their burning itch and sharp stings ever present all across my body, but never for long.

  Even still, I feel as though my total health never gets above 20%, showing me just how close she was to ending me at any moment. But I'm not afraid. Instead, I focus harder. I never even bother to risk a counter attack as my world narrows to nothing but the task of surviving.

  It's all I could think of. I almost died, twice, and nothing I could do would fix that. It's terrifying. I'm terrified. But I'm alive.

  Then, nearly thirty seconds after she opened my neck to the world, the red haze surrounding her fades into nothing and she stumbles mid-strike. My mind shifts from half-panicked evasive action into a rage so pure that my vision turns red.

  Now it's my turn.

  Before I even register I’d thrown a punch, my fist connects with her gut hard enough to take her feet off the ground for a moment, and I become a flurry of wrath. My strikes land wherever I can get them through her guard, without a care for effectiveness. All that matters is that they land.

  The boosts to Strength and Intelligence finally show their worth as I watch her spit globs of blood. Her eyes that were once full of nothing but hatred were now confused… and starting to show signs of concern.

  While I'm covered in blood, I have no life threatening injuries left unhealed, and my health pool is steadily climbing even now. She, on the other hand, has bruises all over her body and blood coming from her nose and mouth from countless internal injuries.

  She struggles valiantly to block and counterattack, but when I manage to land a powerful kick into the side of her knee and feel it finally give under the force, the fight shifts in full. The sickening crunch of bone beneath flesh causes her to cry out as she nearly crumples then and there.

  I don’t waste the opportunity, throwing a dizzying number of punches and kicks at all angles, exploiting every opening and tripling down on that same injured knee, creating even more cracks in her defenses.

  When she can no longer stand properly, her knee no longer able to support her, it takes me only seconds to knock her to the ground.

  The fight ends quickly after that.

  My claws dig vicious furrows into her throat, face, and chest, her blood spilling around her as her struggles grow weaker and weaker. Even when she’s no longer breathing, I continue, my wrath pushing me forward until she is utterly mangled.

  When I finally stop, I’m straddling her stomach, her face a mass of unrecognizable bloody pulp. My breaths come in sharp gasps, and just as I realize that there’s no more fighting to be done, I notice the loud ringing in my ears that’s been blocking out all other sounds.

  I feel it when Fae Ferocity fades away, bringing with it a darkness that consumes nearly my entire field of view, narrowing my vision to a pin-prick. All I feel now is a bone deep weariness, and when I try to stand once more, to get off of the hobgoblin, my legs give out. I crash atop her instead, almost passing out then and there.

  My chest feels so tight that I can’t even muster the energy to lift my head, no matter how bad I want to make sure there are no survivors. I try to roll off the chieftain and find even that too difficult to manage. So I just lay there gasping for air and never getting quite enough.

  Without much of a choice, I decide to focus on the task of recovering. Gradually, after Gods only know how long, the ringing fades and my vision returns to normal. A light breeze rustles the canopies, reintroducing the sounds of the forest. At the sound, every tense muscle loosens all at once and I go completely limp.

  Everything aches from effort and I feel my arms and legs constantly trying to spasm, only to be fought back by my regen. This time, I barely manage to roll off the chieftain, enjoying the sensation of dirt on my back as I lay on the ground much like the corpse next to me.

  After the brief look around to confirm my safety, I relax fully, staring into the sky and watching the green clouds float aimlessly by, my mind reviewing the fight.

  That fight was much more difficult than I anticipated. I’d let myself get cocky, and if it weren’t for Fae Ferocity doubling my stats, I’d have probably died. But the thoughts bring a bubble of excitement with them.

  I won.

  The bubble bursts, filling me with a glee I’ve never experienced. It was hard, it was dangerous, and I almost died multiple times… but I fucking won! And now, I was closer to my goal. Closer to making myself strong enough to make the past right.

  With an exhausted smile, I look through my new notifications.

  You have leveled up! X6

  Stats gained:

  +6 Strength

  +6 Constitution

  +18 Dexterity

  +12 Intelligence

  +24 Wisdom

  +12 Charisma

  +18 free stat points

  Pain Resistance has leveled up!

  Level 4 -> Level 6

  Congratulations!

  You have reached the first milestone (100) in the Wisdom stat.

  Milestone bonus:

  Wisdom stat effectiveness doubled.

  With the increase in stats, it feels as though my exhaustion is pushed back ever so slightly. Not by much, but enough for now. The milestone changes are subtle, but I still notice them immediately. It’s almost like the build up before a static shock.

  Except instead of discharging, it doesn't go away, and instead it becomes my new normal. With that all done, I glance over my stats and decide to hang on to the eighteen free points I have available. Now that I’ve taken out the goblins, I didn’t know what comes next, or what it will take to leave this place.

  Besides, if I do manage to get out of here without much more trouble, I’ll have access to my Combat and Profession Classes. Both will doubtless give me much more to think about. Regardless, I'm certain that if push came to shove, I’d likely throw the remaining points into Dexterity.

  Just gotta get used to having points to spend in the first place...

  If I were faster, I wouldn’t have been in nearly as much danger there. Even with over 100 Dexterity after Fae Ferocity, it was barely enough. On the other hand, no matter how many of my points I add to Constitution right now, it’s not going to outright stop an arrow or ax swing.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Yet.

  Status:

  Name - Emilia

  Race - Faefox

  Age - 19

  Level - 9

  Health - 332/332

  Health Regen - 46 per minute

  Mana - 5460/5460

  Stored - 10,920/10,920

  Mana Regen - 1737.6 per minute

  Strength - 25

  Constitution - 24

  Dexterity - 57

  Intelligence - 37

  Wisdom - 136

  Charisma - 32

  Available Stat Points - 18

  Nodding happily to myself, I finally stand up. My legs aren’t wobbling anymore, just a little sore. So I move over to check the body of the hobgoblin. I'm all but naked all over again, the entire front of my robe carved open by her first good hit, and several other smaller cuts and slashes all over.

  As revealing as it may be, I decide to swap my borrowed robe for her clothes. Throughout the fight, they remained almost entirely undamaged, and thankfully I wasn’t too much bigger than she was, so they covered the important bits well enough that I'm only slightly embarrassed.

  That will probably change if anyone actually sees me, but still. It's good enough.

  I also take the straps that loop around her shoulders, as they are apparently what holds the axes to her back. They have some solid metal hooks in the back where the straps meet in an X pattern, and I quickly set the axes into them.

  They're a bit on the heavy side, but the weight is spread out enough with the straps that it's about the same as my old Carrier pack. They don't look very well taken care of either, but their sharpness speaks for itself.

  As unique as they are, I figure it'll be worth having them appraised. Enchanted items always sell well, even when the enchantments are kind of shit.

  Once situated, I decide to cover her with my old tattered robes, closing her eyes in the process. I wasn’t too proud to admit that she earned a measure of respect from me.

  And I feel a bit guilty for stripping her. But mostly the respect thing.

  After that, I weave my way back through the forest to the camp. I eye the area for a while to ensure there are no more goblins scrounging about, and upon finding none, enter one of the smaller tents with a grin.

  Once a Carrier, always a Carrier, I guess. Goblins aren’t known to have fantastic loot, but they’ve always got something useful.

  And I’m proven right when the first thing I see inside the tent is several shoddily crafted wicker baskets and cloth sacks filled with berries, mushrooms, and mystery meats. To the right is a few wooden buckets of exceptionally poor quality, but they’re filled to the brim with water. Mostly clean water, as far as I can tell.

  I pause my search for a quick cleaning, using the water and an empty sack to wipe myself down. Then I have a quick meal of mushrooms and berries before grabbing another empty sack and filling it with even more.

  I avoid the mystery meats, of course. Goblins eat people, so I'm not going to risk it.

  Sure, beastkin can eat people too, but that hasn't been a thing for nearly two centuries. I have no plans of reviving the tradition.

  There aren’t any containers for water other than the buckets and bowls themselves, but I still have more looting to do. I quickly search the other small tents, finding an ancient looking canteen that seems serviceable enough, as well as a few other necessities. There's a small roll of rope that I looped around my waist, and a couple serviceable daggers as well.

  Then I move to search the corpses, which don't appear to have much more than a smattering of silver and copper coins that I add to my fattening pouch.

  I won't complain about their meager holdings, though. I’m equipped enough for several days, and that’s more than I hoped for.

  “Beggars and choosers and all that…” I mumble.

  Then, having saved the best for last, I make my way over to the large tent. What I find inside makes me both nervous and excited. There, right in the center, is a small wooden chest with dark gray metal banding, though no obvious locks.

  Not far behind it is a familiar sight.

  An ominous metal door that seems to absorb the light around it stands in the middle of the tent, no more than ten paces behind the chest. There is one difference however, and it makes itself known in the center of the door, glowing bright blue.

  The sight of it brings a smile to my face.

  Dungeon Exit

  That and the excitement of loot keeps my mood cheery, so I briskly walk to the chest and nudge it open with the remnants of my boot. It's small and low enough to the ground that I don't have to put much force into the effort, doesn't appear to have any locks or even a keyhole anywhere.

  As I lift the lid, a sharp, metallic clink echoes from the chest, and it’s then that I realize just how badly I may have fucked up. There’s a slight whiz of air as something tiny slams into the back of my thigh.

  Though it isn’t painful itself, mostly thanks to the Pain Tolerance skill giving me 60% pain reduction now, the pain quickly grows. When I look at the wound, the effects almost cause me to panic outright.

  My leg burns where the needle struck, and a faint sizzling noise quickly growing in volume. I pull out the tiny needle, tossing it aside before looking at the damage.

  There, right where the needle hit, is a gaping hole of black and smoking flesh where pale skin used to be.

  “Oh shit oh shit oh shit!”

  Now thoroughly freaking the fuck out, I use Arcane Regulation and push all of my mana regen into boosting my health regen. But even with over 1,700 regen, the spread doesn't stop.

  It climbs my leg steadily, destroying everything in it's path.

  That scares me more than anything, so I begin looking around frantically for anything that could help. But there is only the chest and the door.

  Then it's too late. The damage reaches my hip and lower back, and I crumple to the ground, all function in both my legs gone.

  Agony suffuses me, and I lay there, writing and screaming. Pain tolerance puts in some serious work, but direct nerve damage is apparently too much for it to handle.

  My regen wars valiantly with whatever fucked-up poison is attacking my body, and my leg is slowly eaten away, my screams ratcheting even higher as it spreads.

  Then, ten seconds into my new hell, my leg is completely severed at my hip by the rot. It stops spreading after that, finally stalled out by my healing, but I mentally disconnect when I see my leg literally fall apart.

  Almost on instinct, I have Mental Suppression disable my emotions, and while the pain is still nearly unbearable, I start mentally shoving this experience into the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind with the rest of my traumas.

  Then, I wait. I grunt and groan from the constant agony from my blackened stump, but I'm fully aware that there is nothing else I can really do.

  If there's an upside, it's that whatever this is all but cauterizes the wounds it causes, so I'm at least not going to bleed out.

  My health sits at about 40% of its total, neither going up or down as my body fights with the poison. Then, after nearly a full two minutes have passed, my flesh begins to re-knit itself.

  After another minute or so, the poison loses its effectiveness entirely.

  My body swiftly knits itself back together. Because Arcane Regulation has its limitations, it only clears the blackened flesh from my hip, sealing the wound as it does. But as I sit there, staring at where my leg used to be, I can see it actively growing back.

  I deactivate Arcane Regulation then, and leave the task to my natural regen. It takes nearly half an hour for the limb to grow back, but I watch, emotionless and mildly fascinated. It’s almost like the limb is slowly unfurling from my hip, as if it were just tucked away for later use.

  Watching my toes regrow their own claws is… different.

  After thoroughly inspecting my lower half, making sure that everything is where it should be, I analyze the newest notifications.

  Congratulations!

  Through experience, you naturally gain the following Skills:

  Poison Resistance

  Poison Resistance

  Passive, Body

  You are more resistant to poisons and their effects when used against you.

  +3% poison resistance per level.

  Pain Resistance has leveled up!

  Level 6 -> Level 7

  Poison Resistance has leveled up!

  Level 1 -> Level 4

  “U-,” I attempt to groan, only to be interrupted by a wheezing cough.

  That’s when I realize how badly I must have messed up my throat with all that screaming. It healed well enough, but there's an aching and dryness that I didn’t expect.

  I pull the canteen I'd looted from my hip and take a few sips, clearing up the dryness and eliciting a few raspy coughs.

  At the same time, I scoot away from the mess, distancing myself from what just happened as best I can physically as well as mentally.

  After waiting a bit to make sure my Health and Mana are topped off, I lay on my side, hug my tail to my chest, and curl up a little.

  I know what’s coming next, and it’s going to suck.

  When I’m finally ready, I take a few deep breaths and free my emotions from the grasp of Mental Suppression.

  They overwhelm me instantly. Panic, fear, disgust, horror… it all swirls in my mind, a horrible amalgam of existential dread.

  My body shivers violently and a spike of pain travels up my tail from where I'm squeezing it to my chest. I ignore it, the sudden realization that I almost died again hitting me like a sledgehammer and consuming my every thought.

  Ragged whines escape my throat now, and it takes a while to stop crying. Then I lash out at everything I can, all while avoiding the chest like the plague. Venomous curses fly, aimed at the chest, the still melting remnants of what was once my leg, the goblins outside, and even the dungeon itself as I yip and growl with mix of terror and rage.

  Eventually I run out of breath and energy, collapsing to the ground, panting for breath with a light sheen of sweat covering my already filthy skin. My heart beats faster than a rabbit's, fueling the still lingering panic within my mind. Worse still, the scent of burnt and rotting flesh is almost overwhelming, permeating the entire space.

  I lose track of how long I lay like that, hugging my tail and enduring lingering repressed emotions, trembling and unable to move. But after a while, I finally manage to take a deep breath before speaking aloud, my voice raspy and harsh.

  “It’s ok, Em, just be more careful next time. You can do this. It’s just a stupid trap in a stupid dungeon and there better not be a next time Gods dammit!” I snarl out at nothing in particular, nearly letting myself degrade into cursing out the dungeon once more.

  Gods this skill sucks. Actually, no. This isn’t the fault of the skill, it’s the damned goblin who built this chest. When I get out of here, I’m going to hunt them to extinction for making me go through this bullshit.

  Twice now, I’ve learned that the emotions don’t go away when I use Mental Suppression. They just build up. When I disable it, they slam into me all at once. All the panic, fear, sadness, horror, regret, disgust, and anger packaged into one neat little bundle and shoved directly into my brain for processing all at once.

  It’s crippling.

  But I’m not sure I could have gotten through all that without the skill. So… it's worth it. Even if I hate it. What matters is that I’m alive, and I’ll make it through this. It’s just another trauma to add to the already festering pile.

  With that, I'm now properly mentally prepared to have a good rest of the day. I slowly start to move, only this time, I crawl towards the chest, making sure to stay just below the lip of its lid.

  Pulling out one of the axes, I ready myself to roll away as quickly as possible. Carefully, I hook the ax into one of the metal bands connected to the lid, and give it a gentle push.

  Very, very slowly, I open the lid with the ax. Once it’s fully opened, I jerk the ax back and wait.

  No darts, gas, explosions… nothing.

  My newfound paranoia demands that I check if there’s any other hidden triggers or something, so I toss the ax into the chest and quickly cover my head.

  Nothing again.

  Feeling a little silly now, but no less justified, I cautiously rise, peering over the lip and into the chest.

  My eyes widen at the sparkle of jewelry within.