Novels2Search

Harvest of the New moon

“You have successfully Harvested Lycanthropic Transformation from Waterlogged Werewolf.”

I didn’t even read what spell I got. As soon as I saw that Harvest was successful, I triggered the spell. It thundered through me with far more power than any spell I’d ever tried before, including Thunder Punch.

Why hadn’t I used Thunder Punch?

The thought flickered through my dazed mind as the werewolf landed on me, huge jaws rending. I lifted one hand in front of my face and the werewolf ripped my arm right out of the socket with a mighty heaving twist.

Pain blasted through me like a river of agony, and I stared in stupid shock at the stump of my arm spurting bright crimson blood. Then the agony was lost in a torrent of magic ripping me apart from the spell. My entire body spasmed and I screamed so loud my vocal cords ripped. Every particle of my body seemed to melt under a supernatural heat.

What the hell had I just harvested?

My vision darkened and all my senses retracted as my mind shut down, unable to process what was happening. I embraced the welcome bliss of darkness as I felt my body die.

Then my heart beat once.

Then again.

Except, it wasn’t my heart. It was a new heart, a powerful heart. As it blasted fresh streams of blood through me, my body reformed. The pain vanished, replaced by a sense of absolute power. I shuddered again, this time in ecstasy. I screamed out of pure reflex, but the scream changed in mid-cry into a spine-shivering howl.

Was that me?

Oh, yeah! That wasn’t even the best part. Understanding rushed back into my mind as all my senses flooded me with input. A river of feelings and scents rolled through me, and I exulted in newfound strength.

My body thrummed with power, my new muscles swelling with might until they strained the limits of my sleek new frame. I lunged to my feet as easy as thought.

I now had four feet, all powerful, and all working. The transformation had reconnected my severed right leg to my spirit!

The area around me snapped into crystal clear focus through my newly enhanced senses. The earth crunched under my clawed feet, while the gentle breeze carried the scents of blood and death and rotten meat. The lingering scents of fear and blood frenzy hovered at the fringes. No sound broke the terrified stillness of the forest around me beyond the lingering echoes of my first howl.

I spun to face the lead werewolf. It was watching me with a wolf equivalent of surprise on its lupine face, head cocked to one side, one ear flipped forward, the other back, muzzle partially open.

At least I didn’t lose my mind. Transforming just to submit to the alpha or something stupid would have been worse than getting eaten as an honest man.

I crouched to spring and the other werewolf shook off its surprise. The hairs along its back rose as its intent to kill returned.

My turn.

I launched myself at my enemy. This time, I was the monster’s equal and I had a lost arm and a shattered foot to repay. We came together in a flurry of snapping jaws and raking claws, swarming over each other with blurring speed. Pain flared with every move of the experienced werewolf as it ripped and tore at me.

I was freshly transformed, my reserves of energy full, and the wounds closed almost instantly. Besides, Energy Ward was still active, and it thrummed with more power than ever. It turned aside or weakened many attacks.

In turn, I ripped at the other werewolf with all my strength, venting all my terror and anger at the crazy death game I’d ended up in. I unleashed every battle instinct that came with the werewolf form, but wrapped in my human ability to analyze and strategize.

I exulted in the duel as we ripped and tore at each other. The flashes of pain only punctuated the exultant feeling of bloodlust that washed away any fear, all hesitation, and almost too much clarity of thought.

As the seconds dragged on and we tore each other apart again and again, I realized I was in trouble. My enemy might have started weaker, with regeneration already partially spent, but he still had a far higher level and lots of experience.

He ripped me apart again and again, every move calculated, every attack planned. My newfound wolf instincts threatened to swamp my mind as I gave them full rein. As a human, I didn’t know how to fight in wolf form.

As a wolf, I was still too young. Despite everything I threw at my opponent, it started to whittle me down. My vast pool of regeneration power was getting spent at an astonishing rate, and my healing started to slow.

My opponent sensed my growing weakness and redoubled his efforts. His bloodred eyes bored into me with no pity, no mercy. He shouldered me over and lunged in to rip out my throat.

I pushed the wolf part of me aside, my mind rising to the fore. As only a wolf, I was going to die. I lifted one foreleg to intercept the wolf’s lunging jaws in a very humanlike defensive move.

The wolf snapped down on my leg, breaking the bone in 2 places. I howled with the new flash of pain, but rolled and raked my claws across my enemy’s stomach.

He yelped and twisted away, leaving me time to leap back to my feet. My foreleg snapped back into place, already healed, and we circled each other.

Why had it retreated like that? Sure, I could have raked its belly, but its regeneration could have handled a few claw marks.

Glancing down at its belly, I felt a twinge through Identify, and in that second I sensed my enemy’s energy. It burned with the power of blood, as I expected, but I sensed a deeper well of power. Maybe that was what replenished it.

An echo of that same power resonated from deep within the pits of my own guts. Werewolf regeneration was located in our guts, not our hearts? That’s why it retreated to protect its stomach.

‘I’ve got you now.’

I lunged in, and my enemy moved to meet me, just as it had dozens of times already. Instead of crashing chest to chest and flashing fangs to fangs, I dove and rolled under my leaping foe, raking all 4 sets of claws at his belly.

The move caught it by surprise and I tore deep gashes in its hide. The wolf gushed blood, but I also sensed it losing far more energy than it did from other wounds.

The werewolf crouched, trying to protect its vital belly. That left the back of its neck exposed and I pounced, clamping my powerful jaws closed like a vise. Teeth dug deep, snapping through muscle and crunching into spine. My enemy shuddered and I wrenched it over, tossing it onto its back. Before it could recover, I drove forward, ripping open its belly and plunging my jaws deep into its guts..

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Hot blood gushed over my muzzle and into my mouth. The human part of me wanted to cringe in disgust, but to my werewolf self, the rich, energy-infused blood was like nectar from the gods.

Revitalizing energy coursed through me as I raked claws through the wound, doubling its size. My enemy howled in pain and convulsed off the ground in a final assault, unleashing all its remaining strength.

I caught it by the throat and my jaws bit down, then I savagely twisted, ripping the enemy’s head nearly off. With a final gurgling whimper, my enemy fell dead at my feet.

I threw back my bloody muzzle and howled with victory, the sound reverberating through my soul like the finest symphony.

A long moment later, my thoughts cleared. I was still in werewolf form, but almost felt like myself as the wolf in me subsided, sated from the kill and blood of my enemy.

This is incredible!

“Congratulations, Lucas! You defeated Waterlogged Werewolf pack leader, level 45. Bonus experience gained for defeating an enemy with a much higher level.”

“For killing an enemy more than 25 levels higher than your own, proving you’re either a blood-crazed lunatic destined to die young in battle or just luckier than all the dead stiffs who kidnapped you, you receive the title Lucky Stiff and an emerald Blind Luck loot box.”

“Title: Lucky Stiff: Unlocks a new secondary stat: Luck. Plus 15 to Luck.”

“So Luck really is a thing?” I asked as a huge, glowing emerald appeared hovering in front of me. With growing anticipation, I willed it open. It dropped one long scroll.

“Scroll of Lucky Breaks. Gives:

Plus 2 tier-1 points to all base stats.

Plus 5 to CHA.

Plus 10% faster health and mana recovery

Double Agility stat points calculated from Dexterity.

Double Endurance stat points calculated from Strength.

“Tier-1 points? Yes!” I chortled. It came out like a weird wolf huffing laugh. For a second, I had forgotten I still wore a werewolf body.

“When you defeat monsters this high, the prizes tend to tier up,” Cyrus said.

My entire body shuddered as the new stats took effect. Waves of pure power rolled through me and I gasped in wonder. I felt so much stronger, nimbler, and my thoughts accelerated. I seemed to have already gotten a major temporary boost to my stats just for being in wolf form, but with the new stat boost, I felt twice as strong as before. Fighting another werewolf one-on-one no longer seemed insane.

That stat boost was even bigger percentage wise than the last big special boost I got. 2 points in each base stat was like getting 20 tier-0 points each. I’d nearly doubled all my base stats, which would trickle to my secondary stats too.

I opened my stats to see the new points allocate and gaped when I saw my levels.

“Three levels? How is that possible?”

“The bonuses for killing monsters so high above your own grow exponentially. In a unique twist of fate, you also received a big share of the experience for the deaths of the other werewolves and the undead sailors.”

“How? I was a captive.”

“You were all targeted together and all ended up fighting the same werewolves, so as the sole survivor, you gained the bulk of the experience for killing the werewolves. At the same time, the zombies were not your allies. Again, as the sole survivor, you are the only possible recipient for most of the experience for their deaths.”

“You realize that’s insane, right?”

“Would you prefer I let the experience go to waste?”

“No! Sorry, my mind isn’t totally clear in werewolf form. I’ll happily take it all.”

Wow, getting captured by undead sailors had turned out to be the best use of my time I could have imagined. All I had to do was get mostly ripped to pieces, take a major risk, Harvest a pivotal spell at a critical moment, and defeat a far more experienced enemy through a lucky application of my enhanced Identify.

No way I should have survived. That fact made me laugh, which came out as a whuffing wolf pant, my long tongue lolling out my deadly jaws.

Then I got another thought that snuffed out my momentary mirth. Was this whole misadventure really pure chance? Cyrus kept saying he was running an experiment with me. Had he set me up to see if I’d survive?

No. That was stupid. Cyrus wouldn’t interfere that directly. If he did, then I was as good as dead. Either he’d keep pushing until he got me killed, or he’d tire of the game and discard me. I refused to believe I had no control over my fate.

“Why allocate all 6 new points to Strength, though? I’d prefer a more balanced allocation.”

“First you whined about getting stats in Wisdom. Now you complain about stats in Strength? If you never learn to feel satisfied, no victory, no matter how glorious, will ever fulfill you.”

I bit back the reply I wanted to make. He did have a point. I feared if I tried arguing, he’d do something even weirder with my stats. Getting only 2 per level still sucked, but with the extra stat boost from that scroll, I was feeling more than satisfied.

“Those extra stats helped a lot. Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Cyrus said in a surprisingly long-suffering tone. “You've been complaining so much about not getting your full stats, I pulled some strings and got you that stat upgrade instead of some of the other loot I was planning. I hope you're satisfied."

"Yes. This is awesome."

"Good. Then stop complaining, or you won't like what you get in your next box."

He sounded annoyed. Definitely didn’t want to complain again, at least not for a while. I couldn’t risk Cyrus deciding to dole out a bit of smiting. He was not just another computer program. He was an actual, living AI, complete with very humanlike emotions. Plus, he was still a child. Hopefully he didn’t throw tantrums or anything like that, but I had to be careful not to make any assumptions about his maturity.

I triggered Soul Feed over the dead pack leader. White light gushed forth in an enormous cloud that swirled around me, topping off all my pools, as well as the pool of regenerative power thrumming in my guts. The extra energy supercharged my stats for 15 minutes.

“How come the effects on my stats last so much longer?”

“You’re on a higher stage and wearing a much more powerful body.”

“I’ll take it.” I felt invincible as I accepted the prompt to loot the werewolf leader.

I got so many mana crystals I ended up with a new inventory item: Tier-2 mana crystals, each worth 100 tier-0 crystals. I also got several full healing potions, 2 full regeneration potions that filled both health and mana, and a potion I’d never seen before.

“Gypsy Camp potion, times 6. Two-part potion. Temporary special dimensional storage. Pour it onto any building to transport that building and everything inside of it into the bottle. When unstoppered again, the bottle will disgorge the building.”

Cool, if I ever owned any buildings. For crafting items, I got a rare werewolf pelt that could be crafted into items that added plus 20 to stealth, and several fangs that could infect with poison. The final random item was a potion to permanently increase my poison resistance by 10 points. I instantly drank it.

I then moved about the clearing, quickly looting the other werewolves and all the zombies. Eva did not give me the option to loot them all at once this time. I had no idea why not, but it only took a few seconds.

In the process, I recovered Soulrend and my lost boot. I had to shake out the shattered remnants of my old foot. Gross. Even worse, as a wolf, I had to fight the urge to gobble up the bloody morsel.

From the werewolves, I got more similar loot, plus 3 rare potions of full poison resist, including lycanthropy resistance, which Cyrus confirmed was very rare. From the zombies, I got a bunch of useless junk, including a bunch of random clothing, and even 1 rusty iron breastplate. It was listed as uncommon grade, but looked pretty useless.

The 3 magic lanterns and 8 sets of enchanted steel manacles that required strength 50 to break were much better. Even more interesting were the 3 working energy rifles and 10 broken rifles, plus 2 of the big stun guns.

I really needed to test those out when I had human hands again. The Star Wars nerd inside of me was squealing that I now had a blaster. Too bad I wasn’t on team Star Wars.

That foolishness could wait. I was still a werewolf, and I was wasting time. I found a timer icon in my menus that listed how long current enchantments lasted. The lycanthropy transformation would last all night! I still had 3 hours left. It was a single-use spell, unfortunately, and Harvest failed to get me any more.

My first instinct was to escape the second stage. In werewolf form, I could follow the same insane path the lion had dragged me across. I’d easily find my team. It would be fun to race across impassable cliffs. The panic I’d been fighting down ever since realizing I’d accidentally ended up on stage 2 made it seem like sprinting for the slope back down was the only intelligent choice.

I hesitated, though. Only weak prey lived down at the lower level. I’d gained 3 levels from one encounter. Sure, the math got weird, but even if I’d gotten all the credit for the entire herd of cows, I would have gained only a fraction as much.

Time was short and I needed levels. Stronger monsters could provide them. Besides, if I scouted the second stage, I could gain invaluable intelligence when I regrouped with the rest of the survivors.

That was more than enough justification to decide to explore the forest, just a little. Wolves were quiet, right? I could sneak around and sniff out if there were any monsters weak enough for me to take on. If I found something I couldn’t handle, I doubted anything could run down a wolf. I could escape down to the lower stage.

What could go wrong with a plan so simple?