++Beware the rebel realms, the unnatural lands such as ìràwà. Scorn them and scorn their vicious inhabitants, who yet refuse to bow down before the rule of their betters.++

  Chapter 22

  Reggie had one second, this time. Just the one. His musket was empty, whatever cannon the woman had fired was nowhere in sight. His only available weapons were a shitty sledgehammer and a magic sword.

  He chose the sword, obviously, yanking it into his hands with one swift motion and actually freezing a moment as Sycily droned out its Attributes.

  Storm-edged Ida, Tier 1.

  Strength +19

  Speed +2

  Self-repair I

  An odd feeling, holding it. Reggie could sense the power coiling at his fingertips, and knew it was ultimately one that answered to him. He knew, also, that it wasn’t his own. This blade’s mana belonged to whichever hand was wrapped around its hilt, for the time being that was his. The lack of permanence compared to upping his own Attributes was a bit eerie, but Reggie wasn’t going to complain now. He lunged right as the spider came for him.

  Swordsmanship was among the skills Reggie did not possess, unfortunately. Swords were damned expensive tools and he’d never had much use for them. The fundamentals of swinging a sharp stick at things he wanted dead were easy enough to intuit though, and a good amount of luck combined with that to see that the edge of this magic blade found its mark right in the wolf-spider’s thrusting leg. Reggie grimaced at the moment of connection, the sheer strength of his enemy was beyond his by literally an order of magnitude, but he was vindicated by the sight of blood foaming out of a fresh wound.

  A moment later, the leg whipped by his shoulder and tore a chunk out of it.

  Reggie kicked his Regeneration into overdrive. Sorry disguise, you’ll have to be put back on later. He ducked away and started swinging the sword in wide circles, forcing the spider back while his flesh re-knitted itself.

  With this weapon, he could hurt it. The spider knew that as well. It was being cautious. Tried stepping around Reggie, so he stumbled to reposition and keep it in front of him. They both froze. It occurred to Reggie that he was undead and his enemy wasn’t, however infinite the spider’s stamina seemed it was still a thing of living flesh. It still tired. He moved onto the attack, swinging again, watching the spider lunge away. They did that dance for a while, both too cautious of the other’s killing power to fully engage. Within a few moments Reggie had already recovered from most of his damage, so he figured it was time to get chancy.

  Screaming as loud as he could, he leapt ahead in one bound and brought the ida down, twisting it to one side at the last moment and grinning as he felt the enchanted edge bite deep into carapace at the spider’s foreleg. Another screech escaped the creature and one of its other limbs shot for him. Reggie shifted just enough to get stabbed through the chest rather than the arm, yanked his sword out and swung it down into the offending limb.

  Pain exploded where the barbed limb sunk into him, and Reggie felt…nothing close to what he’d have expected, actually. A weird sensation of flesh scraping on carapace as it stabbed through him, unpleasant, odd. But nothing debilitating, as he’d hoped. He needed his limbs and spine to move, his brain to think, other than that he was fine getting hit just about anywhere. There was probably a hole as wide as a person’s fist in his lung, but it wasn’t like he was breathing anymore.

  Hopefully the spider wouldn’t be breathing anymore, soon. Reggie slashed it again and saw the satisfying spurt of blood erupt along its head. The spider stumbled away, not in fear this time. It was hurt, panicking, confused. Reggie followed it, even with the leg still jutting out of his chest. He kept slashing, hacking everything within hacking range like he was chopping his way through a shrub rather than fighting an animal. More blood burst from the spider, it started slowing down.

  Then it flexed the leg stuck in Reggie’s chest and threw him hard. He flew ten, twenty, thirty paces before stopping against a tree and bouncing clean off it. Chipped wood rained down to land around him as the wolf spider started rushing, racing to reach him before he could stand. Reggie raced up too, and had the advantage of a smaller motion. He made a show of struggling more than he was, of groaning and shivering and lagging in all the ways a living thing with debilitating wounds would.

  Right when the spider was on him, he dropped the facade all at once and swung in a low arc that hacked the tip off its frontward leg and sent it rolling away. Reggie dived to one side while the spider was busy shrieking in agony. Before it’d recovered, he leapt again and brought the ida down on its already-wounded flank. His aim wasn’t good, but his luck was. The edge sank right into a crack in the carapace and pried it open.

  Something repulsive happened in the spider, a deep shiver that ran through it like cold from a sharp wind. Reggie saw its spasming and watched it try to fight for coordination, leapt high and landed on its back. He brought the sword down one last time right where head met neck, half-beheading the creature before he sank his teeth into the exposed meat.

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  Reggie started drinking. The wolf spider’s blood wasn’t like a human’s, it felt somehow lowlier but, at once, stronger. Like drinking magma, except all the heat was joining with him. Reggie wasn’t being burned, he was taking everything good and none of the bad.

  There was a lot of blood in the wolf spider, even after all the cuts Reggie had scored across it already. It felt like he was sucking the volcano dry before long, though, flooding himself with stolen strength. His Blood Magic ended up finding heavy use in coaxing the ichor along into him, and even that was barely possible with how much natural resistance the creature had to such powers.

  But eventually, it ran dry. Everything did in the end. Reggie rolled off the spider, his body now completely healed, and just lay there for a moment. He closed his eyes, let the strength settle in him. Sycily didn’t waste much time in keeping him updated.

  Tier 4 creature devoured, bonus Attributes gained.

  +2 Strength

  +2 Toughness

  +2 Speed

  +2 Celerity

  +2 Charisma

  Secret challenge completed; “Apex Predator”. Reward: Form of the Beast improved. Form of the Beast II unlocked.

  Progress to next Tier, 25/50.

  Reggie didn’t understand much of what was going on, but he liked the sound of it at least. Unfortunately he had slightly more pressing concerns than playing with his new powers. His only concession to that instinct was another glance at his new stat sheet.

  Name: Reginald Smith

  Age: 21

  Race: Blood Courtier [Inheritor Race, Tier 2]

  Class: None

  Attributes:

  (S)Strength 30(+10)

  (P)Speed 30(+10)

  (P)Celerity 30(+10)

  (S)Toughness 29(+10)

  (P)Charisma 8(-10)

  Abilities:

  Blood Magic I

  Form of the Beast II

  Royal Presence I

  Traits:

  Enhanced Senses I

  Regeneration I

  Addictive Ichor

  Good fucking lord. Reggie’s excitement almost distracted him from reaching the woman he’d actually shown up to help. He found her lying in a heap, disturbingly still but, somewhat surprisingly, still breathing.

  Reggie’s first reaction there was one of disappointment, he’d been hoping to claim her sword for himself. Unfortunately that damned conscience of his made it quite impossible now.

  [You could take the sword anyway and just kill her.]

  I’m not going to do that Dvo, shut up.

  [You’re so horrible to me, Reggie.]

  Reggie tried to tune the voice out and figure out what to do with the woman simultaneously. He could carry her back pretty easily, on paper. Except that with a human over his shoulder all the grimwood’s undead would stop ignoring him.

  And Reggie’s face had grown back, too. That put a big pause on all his plans to carry the woman while he focused on finding the pot of naphtha he’d been carrying for just this occasion. Hopefully burning himself in the woods rather than Ludvich’s home wasn’t a big enough change in environment to make the scar patterns obviously different.

  He was interrupted in his impromptu makeover when the woman started coughing. Reggie’s instincts took over at first as he searched for a conveniently located rock to put her back to sleep, then remembered that she wasn’t an enemy and hadn’t done anything to him. He moved back to her side a moment later.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, watching the woman as she slowly sat up. Too late, Reggie realised he’d not transformed back to his humanoid form. The words came out all garbled, made inhuman by the strange shape of his jaw and throat. She heard them, looked up, then panicked. Her fist crunched right into his nose.

  Reggie hadn’t been punched in his transformed state, if nothing else the experience was novel. It was also surprisingly painful. Whoever this woman was, she was actually stronger than Ludvich—maybe stronger than Ludvich had been in his prime, to boot. Her strike sent him stumbling back and she was on her feet before he could recover.

  “Back, monster,” she snapped, looking around. Probably in search of her sword, Reggie realised. She found it fast and lunged for the fallen blade, but not before Reggie scored a kick into her shoulder that lifted the woman right off her feet and sent her flying back into a tree. She hit it much harder than he’d intended.

  How far had that been. Five paces, ten? She wasn’t a big woman but Reggie hadn’t been planning on launching her that hard, not even close. He spent a whole second worrying he might have killed her before the woman exploded into motion, coming right for him with her strange sword held high.

  That sword was magical. It was big and top-heavy, a chopping instrument. That sword had cut through the carapage of a wolf spider, a carapace sturdy enough to turn aside hardened lead musket fire like it was a hailstone. That sword, Reggie knew, would kill him as easily as anything. Take off limbs, his head. Maybe chop him right in half.

  That sword had better stay far away from him if he was to survive this.

  “Hold on,” Reggie yelled. It didn’t help that his words were still garbled by the shape of his body, but changing back now and losing that chunk of his Speed and Celerity would be tantamount to suicide. The woman did not hold on, of course, she kept right on coming.

  At first she was hesitant to swing, nervous even. She soon worked up her fucking courage though and started going for Reggie like he was a particularly evasive tree. That damned sword probably could’ve cut down an actual tree quite easily, too, at least in her grip. It was all Reggie could do to keep away from it. She got closer, then, and closer still. She was a shade slower than him, certainly more beaten up, but her reach advantage was too much. The sword nicked Regge’s left hand and took off half its fingers, let the blood ooze lazily out. Her efforts redoubled as the wound inspired her.

  Reggie’s efforts were redoubled, too. He’d survived murder, more encounters with monsters than he could count, the whole world trying to kill him. He wasn’t dying to this bitch, not out of confusion.

  “Fuck you!” he snapped, then felt his body shifting all over again. Reggie wasn’t sure what was happening until it had already finished, didn’t notice his extra inches of height, stone of weight, the flesh folding out from his forearms and bone spurs protruding from his elbows. By the time he clocked it, the transformation had already finished.

  Form of the Beast II, activated.