Liorax dodged the blade of the first archer lazily as Guin danced around and tried to karate chop the back of his neck. It was a pointless move, and she found herself very much wishing she had never had the idea to abandon her dagger.

  “[Pandora’s Box]?” he questioned her as she managed to get a good [Trip] in.

  “Yes!” she said and jumped back. She moved the skill to the quick bar on her arm. A box-shaped tattoo appeared in black ink. “You didn’t teach me how to use it!”

  “Well, I don’t know what it does,” he answered incredulously. “What would ever give you the impression that I did?”

  You knew what to do with the others! She glowered at him and cursed under her breath again as she danced away from the blade. She had been cursing an awful lot of late.

  “How do I use it?” Guin asked, striking back at the archer.

  Rolling his eyes, he said, “You cast it.”

  An arrow whooshed by her face as she went to snap at him. Thinking better of the distraction, she threw all her focus on her opponent and hit the skills icon.

  Nothing happened.

  “Liorax!” she shouted, dancing through a rain of arrows.

  “What do you expect me to tell you?” The cat yawned. “Check your statuses.”

  What? Was it a buff? She quickly tried to read it while avoiding getting hit.

  “W-What the hell is this?” Guin went, jaw-dropping.

  “Anything good?”

  “This is disgusting,” she said, dodging arrows before going for the backstab again. “Is it just... anything I touch gets this ailment?” Shit, she thought, blinking over as she watched Star and Drakov’s attacks bring the archer that was in front of her to his knees. Their combined efforts were working. Slowly, but they were working.

  “Touch it, bite it, do as you will with it,” Liorax drawled.

  Turning, she watched as BronzePaw dramatically ended the life of the swordsman as she twisted his head into a frighteningly unnatural angle. Ibraxis was fighting to keep her health up, but it was evident that they could do it. They could win.

  A sense of pride grew warm in her chest—but so did shame. She had barely done any damage to the archer she had been fighting on her own.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Guin bit her fingers and ripped off a small piece of hangnail. Gritting her teeth, she went at the archer’s back again—but this time was slightly different.

  Liorax’s large green eyes went wide as he floated around the archer and pointed to the gash she'd left. “Look, there, that blackish color. Evidence of corrosion. Not much, but it’s there,” he said. “You like rules too much, girl. See? You just need to throw globs of drool at them! Just think of a nice, juicy gremlin...” Drool began to drip from his mouth.

  “I am not throwing drool,” Guin said, mildly disgusted as she watched—then her eyes fell to her claws. Had it been more effective because she had bitten her fingers? The traces of blood from her attack faded. If the ability gave naturally her a ‘thorns’ sort of buff that applied it to anyone that could attack her, and if her saliva could weaponize it... It made her lip curl slightly, but she twitched her tail and said, “I won’t throw it, but... Liorax, reflex buff, please.” The cat disappeared.

  Instead of biting her fingers, she licked her claws.

  And this time, she went after his face.

  Tearing upward, she removed his helm, and he screamed as her thick, sharp claws dragged across his bare skin. He swiped at her with his sword in response to her sudden assault, but she danced around him. She had to say that she missed the range her spear gave her in martial combat, but she also thanked the game gods that she had her [Dance] skill and high levels of the Reflex stat. And Liorax, of course.

  An arrow struck Guin in the arm, causing her to fall back and rip it out. She looked at the tip of it and wondered if her blood was as effective as her saliva—then decided she wasn’t sure she cared. A weapon was a weapon—and she stabbed it into the arm of his gambeson.

  The sword-wielding archer stumbled up and went at her like a wild animal. A strange look flashed through his eyes. Putting a hand to his face, he staggered and began to scream.

  With a smirk, she licked her claws again.

  Assuming that the status could only be applied by a fresh coat of saliva—or blood, she supposed, looking at darkening areas of cloth around the arrowhead she had stabbed into him—then she would have to lick them each time she wanted to use it. What a pain, she decided, but pushed on nevertheless.

  Managing to get him around the back of his neck again, the first archer fell forward. She should have removed the helm a long time ago. Pale and frightened, he looked up to see his death come in the form of arrows and magic missiles.

  Satisfied, Guin turned her attention to the other archer.

  See? She went to herself as she put her ears forward and ran at him. Panic reflected in his eyes as her speed and image must have caught him off guard. Dropping his bow, he went for the short sword at his side, but Guin tripped him and threw his sword away before he got a good grip on it. You can do it just as well as they can.

  The second archer flailed on the ground, and Guin put a claw to her lips. Now, no matter what armor he had, it was pointless for him. He was nothing.

  Nothing but food.

  Her eyes drifted to the place where his liver would have been. She should have eaten the other one, she realized ruefully. The archer struggled to stand, but she kicked him back down. Over the top of him, she held one arm and stepped on the hand of the other as he squirmed.

  Her free hand formed a dagger with her claws and thrust it through the gambeson in the area protecting that which she wanted to take.

  The screams were... pleasant.

  No! She cried at herself. Stop! Slamming her eyes shut, she fought against the instinct. She had forgotten what it was like to fight without a source of livers.

  The Gobos throughout the forest had given her at least once a day—but today, she hadn’t had hers yet. She had forgotten what it was like to be driven by instinct so strongly—but she had never torn a liver from a living target.

  When she opened her eyes to see the archer’s terrified ones as his screams made her heart nearly stop. She really was becoming a monster.

  Pulling her hand out, she sat back up and took a moment to collect herself.

  Then, white.