My enemy circled around me. I knew it was about to feint. It was faster than me, but in the rare moment I could meet it directly, I learned that I was just as strong as it was. It was slippery though, so I needed to hit it hard, fast, and before it could react. Even if the first attack wasn’t fatal, I would need to slow it enough to finish it. If only I could slow it down, then I might be able to take advantage of that slowness long enough to kill it. I didn’t know why it hadn’t killed me, I knew it could have. It always had the advantage over me. It always won. But if it wouldn’t end me, then I would end it, eventually. I only needed a single chance.

It said something, but I couldn’t understand. I didn’t care to understand. It was my enemy. I needed to kill it. I sidestepped once more and stumbled. With how exhausted I was, I didn’t need to fake it. Even if it was real though, I knew my enemy would press the attack. It approached in a blur, too fast for me to see in my state, and I waited until it raised its foot to kick me while I was down. It loved to do that. But, over the last day, I had begun to see little spots appear occasionally on my enemy. I understood what these spots were. They were weaknesses. I just needed to seize the opportunity.

When my enemy raised its foot, there was a red spot that appeared on its stomach and I immediately seized the initiative. Unable to reach it with my hand, where my claws could disembowel my enemy, instead I kicked hard, and the thud of my foot on flesh was music to my ears. I rose to my feet and dashed to where it tried to recover its feet, but I didn’t let it. The more I pressed my advantage, the more of the red spots there were that appeared. I could make more and more contact with my enemy until, finally, finally I was blessed with the sweet scent of its blood finally being shed. I’d drawn its blood, and it was still being forced to retreat.

Along one arm, at the shoulder, appeared a red spot, and I immediately seized the opportunity and lunged out with my left arm, my fingers locked together as a blade. My right arm only barely functioned after all the abuse it had sustained at my enemy’s hands, but my left… my left cut into my enemy’s flesh. And finally, my enemy became my prey. It was forced to pivot with my blow to keep me from removing its arm in its entirety, and as it turned, so did I as I smashed my tail into its legs.

It crumpled to the ground a second time, but this time, I was on my feet and right there. I pressed the attack, slashing once at its leg to keep it from moving quite so easily if it managed to escape. Then, I jumped atop my prey and began to hack and slash wildly at every red spot that appeared. I could hear the beautiful sound of its scales giving way beneath my claws, and it was saying something. Again, I didn’t care. Prey didn’t speak. Prey wasn’t a person, just food.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Then, it exposed its unwounded shoulder, a beautiful red spot appearing, and I again seized the opportunity to take away my prey’s ability to resist me. I lunged forward, my jaws slamming closed… on air. The red spot had deceived me? My prey was able to grapple around my neck and arm with my head so exposed, then in a whirling movement that seemed impossible, it flipped me and I slammed against the ground. My breath flew from my body with the contact, and as I wheezed, I fought to my feet and looked at Wisterl as she measured me up.

Wisterl and I had been fighting for… three days now? Or was it five? Or four? Wait, was I trying to kill and eat Wisterl. I shook my head as the clarity continued to return to me, and I, with horror, realized I had deactivated [Bloodlust]. Suns burn me! I had been so close. I screamed my frustration wordlessly at the ceiling of the den. This was too damnably difficult!

While I still continued to vent my rage, Wisterl closed the distance to me. At the last moment, I saw a red spot appear and I half-stepped backward and out of her range as she sought to grapple me. Another three appeared, two on the arm she’d reached with, and the third on her back leg. I couldn’t reach the leg, but I knew the spots on her arms were feints. I just knew her too well.

“Enough Wisterl! I failed, again. Let me rest for a moment, then I’ll try again.” I realized this was a massive drain on her time and my own, but I didn’t care. I would complete this evolution or die trying. I was so close too.

“I don’t think so, little Alpha.” She again closed the distance, and I, overcome with scarlet rage born of my failure, speedily supercharged my throat with magic from my sonilphon. I had to backstep once, twice, then it was ready, faster than it had ever been before.

“HALT!” I screamed in Wisterl’s face, closing the distance. My roar echoed through the den as Wisterl blinked hard and stood, stunned, for a mere moment. Long enough for me to backhand her face with my closed left fist. The power of the blow knocked her prone, and Wisterl laid there as I, exhausted, leaned back against the nearest wall.

Wanting to see how long this attempt had gone, once I was sure Wisterl wasn’t about to assault me I turned my vision to my [Status] to see how many days had passed. I was so exhausted that I looked through the entire [Status] twice before I realized I’d already looked at and seen the adult evolution entry. 53 days. That was… five days? Since I’d started this. So I was right there. So close to success. Dammit. Having scanned my [Status] twice, of course I’d seen the [Bloodlust] entry. I glowered at the 3/3 tally. It mocked me and my failure. What did that mean again?

I ponderously turned my mind to the task of understanding my [Skill] and it was helped by the flashing notifications. And then it clicked, and, exhausted though I was, I shot to my feet. I… hadn’t failed?