“You incompetent pieces of filth!” Egressa screams. The woman grips her glaive tightly while glaring at the two cowering men. “You find someone that knows where my prey is, and then you let him get away.”

“We tried, but he started a bar fight.” One of the men pleads.

“And you should have fucking ended it you incompetent shits.” Her glare moves to the rest of the [Bounty Hunters] in the room. A good thirty of them. “What about you all, have you found anything?” She asks the others, only to be met with silence.

“You’re all incompetent.” She growls. “All I ask is for you to find one fucking child, and you can’t even do that properly.”

She stares at the [Bounty Hunters] afraid of her. She sneers and returns to the two whimpering idiots.

“Your incompetence deserves punishment.”

“Are you going to kill them too?” A voice yells from the group. Egressa’s head swerves towards the sound where a group of [Bounty Hunters] look away. She notices Fluffy walking about, but gives it no mind.

“Who the fuck said that?”

“Or are you going to poison them like you did us?” Another voice calls out. She tries to find the speaker, but fails.

At this point, all eyes are now turning towards her. Not yet with hostility, but wariness.

“If you have a problem, say it to my face.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Just so you can kill us faster.” Another, different voice. Again she tries to pinpoint the speaker, but nothing.

“What reason would I have to kill those under me?”

“You want the reward all to yourself. You probably already know where the child is!” Again a new voice, this one lighting the fire in those present. Her grip tightens on her glaive, while the rest of her [Bounty Hunters] reach for their weapons.

“You killed them for greed?”

“Murderer!”

“No wonder you were never poisoned. You knew!”

She watches as the guild quickly turns on her. They unsheathe their weapons and point them in her direction.

“You’re all making a huge mistake.” She warns, takes a step back, and then looks around. “Baetron, where the fuck are you? Talk some sense into them.”

“He’s in bed, dying from your poison, you uncaring piece of shit,” Someone yells.

She grinds her teeth and takes another step back from the mob. “Stay the fuck back. If you attack me, you’ll be shunned from the guild!”

“Better shunned than dead.”

“Yea, Murderer!”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The mob inches forward, emboldened by their numbers. All manner of weapons are now pointed at the [Guild Leader], ready to take her life.

All this happens while a kitten perches atop a table for a more advantageous view.

You can hear the grinding of her teeth and the seething anger. “Fine, if you idiots want a fight, I’ll give you one.”

Her wariness disappears alongside her defensive stance. In the blink of an eye, she rushes forward with her glaive, slicing a surprised [Bounty Hunter] from groin to neck. Without slowing, her glaive twirls and sings a tale of carnage. Two more die before she is forced to defend against the others.

As classes come, [Bounty Hunters] are one of the most diverse classes available. Combat, perception, stats, and conversational skill are all possible attainments an individual can obtain. Where one [Bounty Hunter] specialized in finding people, another can specialize in combating and subduing said bounty. Some specialize not in the bounty of mortals, but in the bounty of information or objects- of which such skills become available.

Egressa is a level 49 [Bounty Guisarmier] that specializes in hunting bounties using a polearm. Such a specialization leads to a very highly capable combatant.

The woman dodges, blocks, and pivots away from most attacks. For those she does not, she allows her armor to take the hit, leaving only a scratch. As she is pushed back, more and more [Bounty Hunters] surround her. She starts taking small hits and scratches, but the damage continues to pile up. She is faster and stronger than those present, but not at the level of a similar leveled Buxon.

Regardless, there is still a vast level difference with most [Bounty Hunters]. Very few of them are advanced classes and those that are are on the lower end.

Just as she is fully surrounded, she starts spinning her weapon around her. It twirls rapidly, forcing many to take a step back. As they step back, the weapon glows for a moment, specifically the edge.

Then she kneels and slashes around her. As she does, a blade of ice forms at the blade, extending the weapon's reach by two meters. Screams of pain reverberate as ten [Bounty Hunters] lose their legs in an instant. Seeing what happened to their comrades, the rest turn tail and retreat.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Egressa glares at the cowards running away before returning her attention on those now crippled. With the determination of someone who has killed and hunted many, she systematically executes the cripples one by one with only slight trepidation. Though angry, she can’t help but not blame them for their actions. They legitimately thought she was killing them.

As the last [Bounty Hunter] chokes on his blood, she allows herself to take a seat. When she does, she releases a tired breath.

“Must be exhausting to kill your comrades.”

Jumping to her feet, she takes a stance and points her glaive towards whoever just spoke. What she finds is fluffy sitting on a table.

The cat tilts its head. “No need to get up. Just take a breather. Relax a little. I’m sure you’re exhausted from slaughtering those you consider comrades.”

“You can talk?” She blurts out.

The cat sighs. “It’s always the talking that gets people surprised. You’d think they’d ask about my ability to think, or that I have a class. But no, it's always my ability to make various sounds out of my mouth.”

Egressa’s hands tighten on her glaive.

“Did you turn my men against me?” She asks.

The cat chuckles. “Of course not,” he says with an elderly man's voice.

“Well, maybe,” He says in a young girls voice.

“Possibly,” he says in a grisly man's voice.

“Absolutely,” he says in Baetrons voice.

“WHY!” She roars. “Why do this? What benefits do you get? Did another guild hire you? Who are you working for?”

The cat stretches on the table. “Do you remember that woman you turned into a cripple three years ago?”

“Did she hire you? Is this for revenge?”

“What? No. Not unless she offered me something very valuable- which she didn’t. I’m doing this for completely selfish reasons.”

“I did nothing to you,” she states.

“Actually, you did. See, I generally don’t have many morals. Very few actually, but the one moral I have is that children are not to be harmed. And you, my former petter, are actively hunting a child I’m extremely fond of.”

“You work for the crown!” she chokes in realization. “You’re one of her [Royal Guards], aren't you. Nobody would protect her otherwise.”

“That's quite a bold claim,” The cat says.

Her eyes flutter for a moment. “A [Captain]? No, you’re keeping your status hidden.”

“Is that really the last thought you want to have before your death? I don’t mind, but there are better options. Just saying.”

She swallows saliva. “Look,” she glances at the nearest exit. “I’m willing to forget everything that happened and abandon this hunt if you allow me to live. I’ll keep my mouth shut and I won’t say a word.”

The cat sighs. “My dearest Engressa. I believe I told you that I have morals. These morals dictate that any who are willing to kill children are to be punished by death. No exceptions.”

The cat hops off the table and starts walking to her.

“It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“It doesn't.” The cat grins. “But I need to level.”

_________________________________________________________________

One moment she’s pleading for her life, and the next her body is blitzing across the room with the full intention of making a fluffy kitty skewer.

I release my transformation a moment before her glaive makes contact. My gauntlet screeches as I parry her weapon away and prepare to capitalize on the opening- only for the woman to use the momentum of my parry to lance me with the butt of her glaive. My other hand is forced to block, allowing the women to coolly step back.

She quickly takes a stance with a weapon again pointed at me. Her gaze focuses on me with the concentration of an experienced combatant. Then she grimaces when she notices the horns, spiked tail, and numerous eyes.

“A Fenrimorph?” She asks. “No, an illusion to drop my guard,” She says cooly.

I grin at the woman, revealing my sharp teeth. Then I take a stance.

She does the same.

The moment I rush at her, she starts spinning her glaive. I punch aside the weapon, but the woman used the momentum to attack. I intercept with another punch, only for her to do the same thing. For the next minute, glaives and gauntlets meet in a flurry of blows. I block, punch and riposte while the woman dances with the spinning weapon at a speed similar to the Buxon I fought. She is skilled, maneuverable, and has the range advantage. Thankfully, she lacks the physical strength and skill to give me a hard time.

After seeing her movement and feeling her rhythm, I move to break the stalemate. I throw a punch to deflect the glaive, but instead of deflecting it away, I deflect it towards my other fist with the opposite level of force. The blade's momentum nearly halts and the woman's eyes widen in surprise. With the opening made, I move into her reach and throw a punch.

Then I see it, a trickle of a smile. The glaive head glows for a moment. A scythe of ice forms from the weapon behind me. My fist makes contact with her chest- shattering her armor, flesh, and bones before sending the woman flying. With her hand still gripping the glaive, she pulls the scythe with her. I feel the sharp ice touch the back of my neck.

Then it passes through smoke as my form changes into a cat. Her momentum continues until her body craters into the stone walls of the building. The glaive falls to the ground and the formed ice turns to water.

A moment later, the woman's body slides down the crater and on the floor. To my surprise, the woman is still alive on account of her coughing up blood.

I walk up to her in my cat form. “Damn woman, that was close. I didn’t know you could make different ice blades with the glaive. I thought it only extended the range.”

The coughs up more blood and even gives me a glare.

“G-g-g-o to shit,” she forces out with a gurgle of blood.

“Really? Are insults really that necessary? Couldn’t you leave it on a nicer note? Maybe say something like That was a good fight or You’re really skilled. I’d even accept the words adorable and fluffy.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but that only results in more and more coughing.

“Come on. I’m listening and waiting. Just say either of those two words.”

Realizing that her lungs are now full of blood, she lifts a hand with a single finger pointing up. Then her eyes close and head falls.

Quasi stares at the still extended finger. Then nods.

“Aight, that was pretty badass. You’ve got my respect.”