A primal urge sprouts from within. Breathing life to the seed of destruction, a flower of violence blossoms. It is my natural response to what comes next. I have no idea what to expect, but the sheer prospect of it is enough to drive me insane.

As soon as my body kicks into high gear, instinct drives it forward. Straight to the centre hallway where the staircase lies, it is both a tactically and emotionally driven decision.

Regarding the former, it would mean more free space and not getting cornered. While for the latter, let's just say that I could not hold myself back anymore.

While I steady my sword, the enemy reveals themselves.

My first impression is that they're large. At least around the same length as the distance from my foot to my knee. But that doesn't mean anything. The thing that's large isn't a dog or whatever harmless creature.

They're hornets. The massive and far less amicable cousins of bees, my instinct tells me that they're responsible for the dead man. Actually, I know they must be. That's the only conclusion that makes sense. Plus, I can still see the remains of the guy's face smeared on one of their jaws.

Is that their primary way of attack?

To lunge onto my face and tear it into shreds? There's no way to tell, but I prepare for the possibility anyway.

A hunch for preparation guides me. I steel my blade for what is to come. But, the enemy does not approach. Rather than move, the hornet in the front touches upon the ground, just outside the reach of my blade. Its antennae twitch as it slowly begins to approach me, probing its newly found prey.

A chill runs up my back. I wonder if I have the time to inspect them.

"Inspect."

I do it anyway.

PROFILE

NAME: Modified Hornet STATUS: ALIVE TITLE: Full Metal Stinger CLASS: NONE RACE: UNKNOWN LEVEL: 3 STR: 5 DEF: 6 VIT: 8/8 DEX: 9 RES: 30 CHA: 0

Low defence, low HP and a relatively modest dexterity.

My sword lowers down into what's known as a fool's guard. Against an enemy that is far shorter than me, I see it as the best option. In a position that's meant for defence, I await my enemy's attack.

But, the attack on my leg never comes. Besides the one right in front of me, all the other hornets are still in the air. I don't understand why, but I don't need to.

If the enemy doesn't strike first, then I will!

My left foot shoots forward. Then, in one upwards motion, I cleave the hornet. Split right in two, I feel the flesh part as butter would under a hot knife. Most definitely the result of Sucker Strike, it's as if I just cleaved through air.

Tumbling to the floor, the enemy then dies.

Immediately, Armoured Initiative activates, and a thin sheen of light blue covers my body.

I chuckle at the revelation that I can kill something, the bestial urge that is my sense of superiority running amok in my body. I quiver at the magnificent corpse on the ground. If killing an emotionless insect feels this great then I can't imagine what it must be like for a human. But as this wave of emotion washes over me, the hornets in the air curl up.

With their stingers pointed towards me, I ready myself for them to charge like an army of knights jousting with their little lances. But that moment never comes.

Through the air, something ejects from their body. My sword raises to parry whatever projectile comes. Taking a few steps backwards, I slice through empty air. My heartbeat triples as I prepare myself to get hit.

That however, does not occur. As Molok's ephemeral white shield envelops the hallway we're in, I see what looks like liquid slide down it. A transparent colour of no particular note, I can't say I expected it.

Even if they can accomplish such a feat, though, there's no time to think it over. My legs kick off as I advance to the enemy. With less than three metres of distance between us, I cross that path in less than a second.

"Die!" a yell erupts from my lungs as I slash to the right. My sword cuts with lightning speed at just the right distance to decapitate their head.

Sparks fly and two weapons collide the moment after. For some reason, my sword was unable to cut through them entirely. Given their poor defence, a single strike should part their flesh. But what I just hit was not that soft substance I'm so used to.

Instead, my sword has clashed against a stinger. A stinger that shares the shine of steel and the length of a knife, I lament at just how weird they are. First, they can shoot venom, and now they have metal stingers. The next thing you'll tell me is that they can self detonate and blow my face off. Humourless as this all is, that thought draws a hollow laugh from me.

The sound of my laughter envelops the area in its dreadful presence as the trajectory of my blade aims for the hornet. It falls left, then right, then left again. Sounds and sights of metallic sparks fly at our clash.

My right eye squints in the wretched cry of revulsion. I can't believe it. I'm losing to a giant insect. The thought that such a basic and vile lifeform is beating me makes me sick. With that resentment the spirit in my core flares.

"Argh!" The hatred in my blood surges through my breath as I slash again.

Whistling through the air, I hear the sound of cracking. Shattering in two, the end of my sword topples to the ground.

There's no time to think. If that stupid cosplay sword can't function for shit, then I'll just have to find another way! To reach my enemy, my body runs along the right wall. The hornet, in turn, thrusts towards me with its stinger. Although it penetrates through my shield and hits my chest, I don't care. Along the vertical surface for less than a second, I then leap off it. The weight and force of my body thrust straight on top of the hornet, we crash to the ground.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

A moment of opportunity arrives. My enemy who must die jerks about pathetically under the burden of my body. All the more reason to find pleasure, my left fist thrusts forward. Straight at its head, my fist pierces through its flesh. A hole the size of my fist is all that remains.

"Hahaha." The bits of chunky flesh that still stick to my hand is stomach-turning. Yet I find a delectable irony in my killing. That irony, deriving from how the man was killed in a similar fashion, I can't help but think this a fitting end for the hornet.

Gobbling down the sausage roll in one bite, I regenerate my health. The slight ache in my chest dissapearing alongside it. In that second after, several more hornets approach. Flying through the air, I pathetically raise my body to defend.

“Μήπως για την τολμηρή μου Περσεφόνη ο τρόμος, Από τον Άδη θα πρέπει να στείλει ένα απαίσιο κεφάλι τέρατος.”

An incomprehensible dialogue comes from behind. Probably the incantation of Molok, I brace myself for its result. Then I see it. Patches of stone begin to appear from corners of the hornet's bodies. Gradually weighing down their form, the once agile creatures spin uncontrollably. Like a helicopter that had just been shot out of flight, there is no rhythm or meaning to their movement.

Solely, unbridled, untempered chaos, it is the opportunity that I need.

"Nicely done!" I call out in a hurried frenzy. My words hold not a single scintilla of lies. I'm truly impressed by his ability, and it's logical that those who are powerful be praised.

Fallen to the ground, I summon my inventory as fast as possible. Then, pulling out two brass knuckles for each of my hands, I run. Partly in the middle of putting them on, and partly finished, I stop at the petrified hornet.

Hardened as they are, I squat to pick them up. Lighter than I expect, they're roughly the weight of a similarly sized rock. My breath exhales as I lift.

Holding it in my hand, I toss it over the railing.

Sending it plummeting through a height triple that of mine, the hornet hits the ground. A satisfying series of cracks form along its surface as a result. Splinters and deep crevices all over its body, a transformation unfolds. As patches of colour began to seep into its monochrome being, the hornet began to revert back into its original, albeit destroyed form.

Two realizations spawn in my mind. The first being that it's simply a magnificent sight. The second, in relation to their body.

Because if the petrification isn't permanent, then that must mean…

A whirring sound comes nearer. The undisputed resonance of a hornet is less than a metre away. Meanwhile, my heart roars like an engine. Pumping blood to the extent that it rings in my head, I begin my defensive manuever. In an attempt to hit it before it can come near me, I grab onto the broken sword on the floor and throw it. I take a moment to assess the situation right after.

The sword doesn't land. Tossed flimsily through the air, it instead hits nothing.

The hornet approaches stinger first. Thrusting forward like a hooligans shiv, I barely dodge out of its way. The fighter instinct worth years of taking and dishing out jabs guide me.

The enemy thrusts forward again. Attacking from one side to the next, I avoid to the utmost my reflexes can handle.

Then a moment opens. A slight window wherein it still recovers from its own attack.

I smash into its unguarded body!

"Just die, you stupid piece of shit!"

A left jab goes straight into the hornet's side. The tissues of its body pave the way for the impact of my power. But it's not enough. As it's sent flying down into the right wall, I know I have to finish the job.

However, that's not a conceivable option. The familiar whirr of a hornet's wings rings out from the other side of the hallway.

In the time it takes to end its miserable existence, the other hornets will arrive. So, instead, I step backwards and regroup with Molok.

Wearing a mask of a woman with hair for snakes, I ask him if he has any other useful spells.

In response, he takes off his current mask and swaps it for another. The same one he wore when we fell from the building, I raise an eyebrow in question.

"In five seconds, please kick me as hard as you can."

I don't get why he asks this at all. In spite of that, though, his serious tone gives me faith in him.

"Alright."

Looking ahead, I see five of these hornets. The sight of them makes me want to fall back and pick them off one by one. Yet, something tells me that won't happen.

When I think this exact strategy over, a contradiction emerges. Exactly in opposition to my thinking, Molok runs forth. Right into the maelstrom of hornets, two seconds pass. Without even a moment, the hornets register their prey.

Honing in on their target, the countdown begins. I know nothing of what will come out of it, but I know I have to kick Molok.

Two seconds remain. The ligaments in my leg enable a full output of all my energy.

Like a spear of lightning, I cross an unattainable distance in a flash.

The hornets now encircle in a half circle around their prey.

One second remains. The ligaments in my legs cease their former derivative and adapt to new ones.

Stand sideways to your target. Maximise efficiency of distance. Bend your knee.

Then, in one final move, let all the energy release in your kick.

"Transfiguro!"

Delivering a blow with all my might, it collides straight into Molok's back.

But, it's not the boy who takes damage.

The five hornets who attack him from his front and sides soar through the air. Though not in a motion of movement or agility. Rather, it's as if they had been hit by something. Like being thrashed by an invisible force, they each splatter against a wall.

Turned into mush and mash meat, victory has been decided.

"My apologies for the late notice, Camille."

The boy utters while catching his breath.

"What the hell are you apologising for?" I call out. "That was a bloody stroke of genius!"

It's the least I can do to congratulate him. I know he's merciful and all, but to have that much faith in my ability borders on a suicidal tendency. That's a feat that's remarkable in itself. To be able to throw yourself in the middle of combat and still think in such a level-headed manner is marvellous.

As I stare at him with a stretch of my lips, I'm ready to celebrate with a laugh.

But at that exact time, he tumbles to the floor. Too late for me to catch him, he instead slumps like a ragdoll. I think he's exhausted at first. Then I realise that a cool liquid has begun to permeate my shoes.

In retrospect, I had been too exhilarated to notice. His robes, as purple as they are, had done well at hiding any wounds. Because the truth is, there were holes all over his body. Punctured by bites or stingers in several locations on his body, the muscles in my own tighten.

"Molok!' My voice cries out in vain as I kneel down.

I shake his body for a grand total of three seconds before I understand it's useless. The passion driven words of my own won't do anything to help him. If I'm to save him, then I must find help elsewhere.

With all the energy left in every fibre and muscle of my being, I pick him up. Then, I run.

Down the stairs, through the hallway, and into the bustling streets of the city. I sprint to the only safe haven that I know. The only place that would accept him without judgement and without fear, I hear the faint whimpers of his throat pierce through my ears.

Then, without noticing it myself, I ask him not to die.