Before I could fully grasp what was happening, my instincts took over: I bit the arm of the stranger, and with a powerful crunch, I snapped it off him.
then leaped so feet away.
That was too close!
But then, I noticed sothing... different.
By the heavens! Look at !
According to Platform—my ever-chatty, occasionally unhinged internal guide—I had undergone a transformation.
{This is the first phase of your transformation series. Your speed and strength are doubled, and certain parts of you take on a beastly form.}
Her tone carried a hint of urgency, which was unsettling. If Platform sounded worried, then we were knee-deep in trouble.
I looked down at myself; My arms had grown sinewy, coated in fur, and my hands were now claws. My jaw felt sharper, like I could bite through steel if needed.
Not bad.
I suppose those pacts I'd made had their uses, after all.
Then again, nothing could truly buy eternity. I'd still been cheated!
Platform's voice returned, weaving information into my mind.
{Na: Sarvest
Ancient-class Principality.}
Every other detail was veiled from . My current level couldn't unravel the mystery of this foe.
An Ancient-Class Principality, eh?
For those who don't know, a Principality is a being that borders the boundary between mortals and the divine.
I am one too. But looking at Sarvest, I realized the path to true divinity was a long road, and I'd barely set foot on it.
A Champion also dwells on this blurred edge, but while Champions were strictly humans who clawed their way up, Principalities were nonhumans like .
And this particular Principality wasn't here for a pleasant chat.
His cold, knife-like gaze was on .
If I hadn't acted fast earlier, Alicia's head might've rolled off her shoulders by now.
Sarvest looked at with a mix of disgust and puzzlent, as though I were so kind of grotesque hybrid.
Well, I did look like what you'd get when you chewed a wolf and a man, then spit it out on a tray.
But co on—that's cool, right?
Alicia's eyes sparkled at my magnificent form, as they should. At least soone here recognized greatness.
And I'm not letting him get anywhere near her!
Even if it ant my bones would shatter, my limbs would be torn off, or—gulp—I'd die, I'd make sure—
Wait. What?
I don't really want to go through all that!
"Hey, Platform!"
{Yes, Master?}
Our guest didn't look like he intended to back down. His expression was stone-cold, unblinking, like a predator sizing up a prey.
'Seems like he's not leaving. What do we do?'
{Are you planning on engaging him, Master?}
'What choice do I have? I can't just sit here and let him grind into Fenrir paste!'
The least I can do is fight back with all I have!
So... Please, help .
{Sigh... That's a bad idea... But, of course, I'll provide my full assistance.}
Sothing about how you'd provide your full assistance for a bad idea, but—
There we go! That's the sweet, supportive Platform I know and love!
She laid out the plan: we'd be using nearly all my abilities at once, cycling through them like a drunken bard through his songs.
And... she'd be running so "experints" on while at it...
I hope I'll not die before Sarvest gets , though.
Wait... Experints?!
{Initiating 2nd Phase transformation.}
Before I could protest, my body began to shift. My wolfish arms and legs twisted, collapsing into themselves until my entire form beca... human.
But not just any human—oh no.
I had muscle now, real muscle. Not that shrimpy twig Pluto turned into!
My hair turned a striking blonde, my red eyes retained their dangerous hue but with a pure, unnerving intensity.
And then, I felt it—like a warm, gentle light seeping through my skin.
Platform... is this...?
{I've switched your attribute from Darkness to Holy.}
Wait, what?! Was that possible?!
When I asked;
{Absolutely! Nothing out of the ordinary.}
Was Platform's reply.
I stood there, half-amazed, half-panicked.
My shadowy aura had been traded for a soft, golden glow. I'd gone from ominous demon to righteous angel in the blink of an eye.
Wow. A lot about the world had changed while I was locked away.
Sarvest cocked his head, finally showing a sliver of emotion—annoyance? Intrigue?
I couldn't read his facial expression well.
In this form, my already sharp and absurd senses were heightened to a level where I could almost hear screams of anguish sowhere beneath the ground.
My awareness expanded so vastly, it felt like I was watching the battle from the heavens, with blind spots tossed right out the window.
But against soone like Sarvest, who could just bleep himself out of existence, it didn't do much.
His movents weren't just fast—they were beyond perception. It wasn't re speed; it was as if he folded space and reappeared wherever he pleased... no, even more complex than that.
Platform was working overti, straining to catch even the tiniest shift in the air around and alert before the next blow landed.
*
The fight between us was grueling.
I swear, I started fantasizing about just lounging with a nice sip of deer blood and a nap.
If not for Platform, I'd have been nothing but a red stain on the wasteland by now.
"Abadon Abyss," my newly upgraded "Great Jaw," absorbed the impacts and shockwaves from Sarvest's strikes, channeling them straight to the Shadow Realm.
Platform was reading every atom, every particle within a 90-foot radius around , adding high-level predictions to pinpoint Sarvest's next reappearance.
Which was like sticking your paw into an empty eye socket—uh, cookie jar—and expecting to pull out a cookie you ate a year ago.
Translation: it was hard. Actually, that's just impossible. But you get what I an!
Sarvest's blows were like explosions. Even though I defended deftly, each strike sent hurtling several kiloters through the wasteland, deep craters marking my trajectory.
I was a rag doll in a giant's hands, but—!
For every hit I took, I managed to land one too.
Which, honestly, did absolutely nothing to him.
Not a scratch, not a wrinkle in his clothes!
C'mon!
How very encouraging.
Then, it hit ...
{...Yes, Master. I've observed it too.}
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