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Reborn as a Demonic Hat

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Ethan Hawke's no stranger to Isekai stories. But now he's in one...as a hat.

A hat that can [Possess] creatures and [Steal] their skills.

Now, Ethan's cleaving a path through the world by controlling only the most OP monsters he can find.

And he won't stop until he sits on the head of the God that sent him here Himself.
Chapter 1: You are a [Hat]

IronLung

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Ethan Hawke was a man who got things done.

He was a worker – pure and simple. Put him in any situation, and he'd come out on top. Ethan's boss at the Tax Consultancy company he worked for knew this, and saw to it that his best worker was kept busy.

"Ethan! Make sure those reports are triple-checked before tomorrow morning"

"Ethan – new trainees just joined up. Gonna need someone to run 'em through the ropes and assess their skills. Make this your primary action objective for the day."

"Ethan! Regional Manager's on the way. Keep him confined to your stall. And get that manga bullshit off. Your. Desk!"

To all these requests, Ethan would oblige. He'd work day-in, day-out, never muttering a grumble of complaint, never casting a dark glance cast in his more lackadaisical coworkers' direction.

At night, he'd get home and absorb himself in anime and manga, playing the occasional MMO, and wait for the dawn that heralded another dull day of his life.

And one day, he looked in the mirror and saw a tired clown staring back at him.

"Look at you," he told his grizzled, unkempt face. "Even the Gibdos from Zelda scrub up better than you do."

There it was – the first joke of the day. The first of many mechanisms Ethan had invented to get through the drudgery of his 9-5 life. Taking this world seriously had ceased being an option for him a long time ago.

Oh, it wasn't that he begrudged those who worked long hours for a living like him. It wasn't that he hated his boss, his company, and the city he lived in. After all, he could just leave and move on, right? No – Ethan's ennui went far deeper than that. The specific circumstances of his life were endemic of a much greater problem that had followed him since his birth.

Ethan Hawke's problem was that he had no control over anything.

As a kid, there'd always been someone telling him how the world worked. There'd always been someone who believed they knew better than he did who he was, and what his place in the world was.

"Stick in at school," his father – a Stockbroker who brokered bottles more than stocks - had said. "Get a job. Work hard. Monitor your assets. Get married. Have kids. Tell them to do the same."

His mother – when she wasn't cleaning up his father's drunken messes - would tell him how he could find a good wife that could make him happy. She was telling him the love of a good woman was all he'd ever need.

And Ethan, at 25 years of age, was now beginning to doubt that very much.

Because the world had also started telling him different things these days – that a man had to be strong (but not too strong) masculine (but not so much as to be considered toxic) and caring (but not too emotional – crybabies were such a turnoff).

How the hell could he get married when the game seemed so rigged against him?

His mother, his father, his teachers, his backbreaking boss, his friends, and even the society he was living in itself – all of them seemed to Ethan to be nothing more than a council of 'wise' old Elders who told him what life he ought to live. The person he should be.

And today, as Ethan crossed the road towards his office building and his stuffy little worker's cubicle within, a heretical thought suddenly occurred to him:

What about what he wanted to be?

He stopped, ignoring the oncoming traffic that swerved to avoid him as this thought occurred. It was like a jittery little imp was knocking at the side of his brain. It was a thought that brought a hoarse chuckle to his lips. The anagnorisis of the tragic hero, occurring in the middle of a congested main road at 09:00 am. He'd simply…never thought about it before.

"What I want? Fuck," he whispered. "I just wanna see what happens when I'm the one in control, for once…"

A barrage of lights threw themselves across his body, casting his thin silhouette across the street.

He heard the driver of the truck beep his horn. He knew – without exception – that he'd be able to leap out of the way if he wanted to.

And yet…he didn't.

Without really knowing why, Ethan Hawke did the one thing that no one had ever told him to do: he stopped.

And he waited.

And the funniest thing was that when the truck finally did hit him, he barely felt any pain at all.



Ethan's life faded away with not even a whimper. And as his soul floated in a peaceful little void of nothingness – where no self-righteous voices existed – he suddenly felt a certain…sensation.

It was not unlike being sucked through a really tight vacuum cleaner hose, which, to be fair, was exactly what he imagined dying would feel like. The darkness eventually gave way to dust, and he awoke to a high ceilinged mine shaft filled with sparkling rocks and dripping water from above.

So, this is what death looks like, huh, Ethan thought as he prospected his new surroundings. You know what? This all checks out.

What didn't check out was the feeling of something under him. Something round, smooth, and…more dead than him, apparently.

He looked down to see that he was perched atop the head of a dusty skeleton, its cobweb-laden eyes staring into the far distance like it had left something out there in the dark tunnel beyond this shaft.

Poor dude probably starved to death. Helluva way to go. Then again, I ain't exactly one to talk

Ethan ruffled his rim and rolled his single eye.



Wait a minute…

He looked down again, seeing the deep blue rim of a hat exactly where his feet should have been. Stitches, a little brown patch sewn into the side…yeah, it was a hat alright.

He was a hat…

---System Notification---

Rebirth: Complete!

You are a hat. Congratulations.


…I'm a hat?

Correct.

…Am I a pretty hat?

The little box that represented this 'System' screen then appeared to show him exactly what he looked like. Yup. He was a hat, alright. He was a pointy, dainty little wizard's hat – just like the classic ones worn by DnD wizards. The only thing that marked him out as rather distinct was the single, crimson eye that was currently staring back at him from the base of the hat's stem. His eye…

So, this really is some Isekai shit, Ethan thought. Like 'So I'm a Spider, so what?' right?

No. You are not a spider.

You are a hat.

You are a {Legendary} hat.


Riiiight. Well, since I'm going nowhere fast, tell me: what can a {Legendary} hat do?

A hat exists to be worn. Even {Legendary} ones.

This is a hat's only purpose.


You're gonna be one of those snarky little System guides, ain't ya? Ethan yawned – an action accomplished by slightly ruffling his front hem and rolling his single eye. This ain't my first rodeo, y'know. I've seen plenty of nonhuman MC shit. I wouldn't be reborn unless I had a few OP skills up my sleeve.

A hat does not have sleeves. A hat is only a ha-

A hat is gonna lose his fucking mind if you keep that shit up, Ethan raged, his crimson eye bulging with anger. Look, pull up my skill list and let's get the show on the road here, huh? I ain't gonna mope around in some backwater mine waiting for someone to pick me up. No point lying down on the job and regretting my previous life (such as it was). Just don't tell me that there's some self-righteous God I've gotta answer to…

---Skill check: Ethan Hawke---

Object: Hat {Legendary}

Skills: Possession (Rank F)

Skill Steal (Rank F)

Appraisal (Rank F)

Transmogrification (Rank F)

Spirit Cores: 1

HP: SPECIAL

MP: SPECIAL

WILL: SPECIAL

PER: SPECIAL

STR: SPECIAL

SPD: SPECIAL

CHA: SPECIAL


Now we're talking…Mrs Thornberry always did say I was a special student.

Something then began scurrying out of the corner of Ethan's peripheral vision. Something small, and chittery, which had just wormed its fuzzy form into the mine shaft.

A rat.

A rat with a pair of beady little eyes.

Eyes that found the only other eye in the otherwise eyeless expanse of the mine.

Eyes that shone with mischief.

Ah shit…ok, ok. Defenses, Mr system? What ya got for me here? I'm a wizard's hat, obviously. The guy that croaked it while he was wearing me had some magic skill, right? Bring up my epic spell list.



A hat has no spells.

A hat exists only to be worn.

You are a hat.


You're enjoying this shit, aren't you?

Before Ethan could spout a few choice obscenities for his awkward System screen to try and interpret, the rat had already scurried over to his position and began nibbling away at his hem.

Hey, hey, hey! he tried screaming through his mouthless form.

The rat didn't seem to understand the importance of exchanging pleasantries with polite company. Instead, it elected to chew clean through a section of his hem and scuttle underneath into his floppy, hatty bowels.

Wow! This…this is some bad territory to be straying into this early in my Isekai adventure, little guy! Just because I'm technically an object does not mean I don't have a say in – hey!

While the little creature was poking around inside the darkness of his threaded insides, the System screen made a prompt return:

[Potential Host: Identified]

Possession Success chance will be determined by your Spirit Core strength vs the Host's 'Willpower' attribute.

Attempt possession?


Ohkaaay, Ethan mumbled. Either I get chewed to death from my insides by a fleapitten rodent, or I become the fleabitten rodent…you know what? It ain't like I've got anything better to do. Call me Pazzuzu and let's get some head-spinning goodness going.

Possession: Activated

He felt it. He felt the rat jerk up in his bowels. He felt the creature's eyes begin to blur, its ruby pupils dilating as it realized its mistake in snooping around…

Then he felt something else – resistance.

Damn! Ethan screamed internally. This…this little guy's puttin' up a fight!

He closed his eye and concentrated. Now he could actually see the creature flailing about, spittle flying from its tiny, cracked teeth as it twisted unnaturally in the deep darkness of its prison.

Come ON! You're a freaking rat! Give it the fuck up already!

And then, almost as soon as the whole ordeal had started, it was over.

[Possession: Success!]

Rats Willpower: 0 vs Hat {Legendary} Spirit Core: 1

Rats are not strong willed. They have nothing but base, primal desires.

Congratulations! You have successfully possessed a {Rat, Lvl 1} .

Spirit Cores: +1


Ethan didn't feel too different at first – though he could definitely feel something…changing.

[Form Manipulation: Complete!]

An audible pop sounded in the depths of the cavernous mine, and Ethan now looked down upon a very different body beneath his hem.

He had shrunk. He had shrunk to fit the rat's head.

He was currently a pointy wizard's hat atop the head of a smelly, cave-dwelling rat.

And…he could move.

Hell yeah! he screeched, his command to cry out in delight being performed by his new host. The rat now seemed fully under his control. He could feel every limb, every muscle, every joint within its tiny form contort and even dance to the tune of his thoughts.

I should probably give my first host a name. Something distinguished. Something the history books in this world will talk about when I sit upon the head of a King or Emperor...How about…Theodore!

[Status Update]

Host: Theodore the Rat {Level 1}

Stats:

HP: 10/10

MP: 0

WILL: 0

STR: 5

PER: 5

SPD: 25

CHA: 2

[Skills known]

Hide (Grade F),

Skitter (Grade F)

Detect Life (Grade F)

Bite (Grade F)


Huh, rats have a Charisma score of 2. Who'd have thought. Maybe I got lucky and found myself an eloquent little critter.

Ethan began appraising the world with new eyes, now – those of his Host.

[Skill: Detect Life]

{PASSIVE}

[Grade F]

This skill allows you to sense nearby living creatures of flesh and blood, as well as the aromas given off by them.


He saw the mine shaft as a kaleidoscope of colors, some lambent oranges, yellows, and one trail of red mixed in there that led outside. Probably towards food.

And where there was food…there was the potential of a new host.

That's…all I have to do here, ain't it? He asked his System menu floating before him, giving him a good view of Theodore's glazed eyes and furry behind. Just find a powerful enough host, possess 'em, and live the good life. The life I should've had back home. A life where luck is what I make it, for once…

A hat exists only to be worn.

You are a hat.


And a {Legendary} one at that, Ethan chuckled. You know something, Mr System? Maybe you ain't so bad after all.

Ethan turned to bid adieu to the skeletal remains of what must have been this hat's last host before he ironically took over its form in this world. He scurried out, propelling Theodore forward with unhindered glee. Oh, it felt good to actually run again!

Ethan Hawke made a vow then and there, in the dark depths of this new world he'd just be reborn into:

From now on, I'm gonna be the one in control. I'm gonna live this life for me, and make damn sure that the world knows my name. Onward, Theodore! We've got a realm out there full of flesh-bags just waitin' to be possessed!

And Theodore, having no choice in the matter, ran headfirst into the dark.
 
Last edited:
This fic reminds me of a sentient hat being a witch that I watched on YouTube.
 
Chapter 2: Ratman™: Blood Cheesy
Ethan-the-hat drove Theodore-the-rat through the dark shafts of the mine he'd woken up in, following the scintillating scents that his new host's eyes showed him.

He quickly worked out the stats of the rat – classic RPG stuff, no problems there. The skills too – they were self-explanatory. When he activated [Skitter] he got a quick little boost of speed. When he activated [Bite], he felt his new baby-blade teeth bare themselves for an attack.

You ain't the strongest, Theo, Ethan thought, hoping that some semblance of his host's consciousness was there to hear his praise. But you make up for it in speed…I'd probably do a marathon of this place if it would do anything to increase your skills.

Ethan was quickly realizing that this world – wherever it was – certainly didn't run on Bethesda RPG rules. He drove Theo on and on through the dilapidated remains of the shaft, finding broken pieces of machinery and mining equipment, and his [Skitter] skill didn't increase one bit.

Mr System? Ethan asked his enigmatic menu. Care to give me the low-down on how I boost my furry little host's skills?

In order to improve skills, one must harness [Spirit Cores]

And let me guess: that means killing, right?

For you, yes. You are classless.

You are level-less

You are only a [Hat] who is now worn by a [Rat {Lvl 1}]

How else shall you occupy your time?


I'll have you know I had plenty of hobbies and interests back on good ol' earth. Come to think of it, I hope my Crunchyroll subscription wasn't set to auto renew…

Ethan's pressing concern was put to rest as he finally came upon the site where all scents converged. In a new shaft, skittering around an overturned mine-crate, was a cabal of five rats - each one of a similar shape and size to him.

We just found our first targets, Theodore. Ready for action?

Having literally no say in the matter, Theodore merely blinked his dead-eyes and scampered forward.

[Skill Activated: Hide]

Ethan kept to the shadows, embracing the deepest recesses of the shaft's darkness as though he was born to it. He crept round the edges of the rat assembly until he saw one of them sniff the air and come towards him, interested to meet the new arrival.

His mates seem distracted by whatever's in that mine cart. Should be easy pickings.

He felt Theodore's spirit wrestle against him ever so slightly as their unsuspecting victim stood on its tiny legs and sniffed the air again, its eyes unable to pick out the stalker hiding in the shadows before it.

Oh, Theo, Ethan mumbled. This is no time for nostalgia. Listen, you help me and I'll help you. We're gonna level you up till you're the strongest rat that's ever scurried around these parts!

Ethan moved his host back, kicking some stones outside the shaft in order to draw the unsuspecting rat further away from his friends. The rat took the bait, not noticing its stalking cousin slowly creeping towards its back, eyes trained on its furry neck.

Now!

[Bite: Activated]

Sneak Attack Bonus!

DMG: x2


Theodore's teeth shone in the dark and sank into his cousin rat's neck with pinpoint precision. Ethan forced him to bite down until the blood of his victim clotted every fang, and only when the creature went limp did Ethan withdraw back into the dusk, just in time to see another rat who'd heard all the commotion scurry towards his fallen brother.

Just call me – well, us – 'Ratman'. Greatest assassin of…this world. 'Cept instead of a bar-code on the back of your head, you've got me.

Ethan wasn't sure if Theo got the reference. But, as he flexed his little limbs, curled his tail, and made for his next victim, Ethan thought it probably didn't matter either way.



[Rat {LVL 1}]

Status: {Possessed} by [Hat] {Legendary}

[Spirit Cores: 6]


In the wake of his mass-rat murder, Ethan prospected his stats and skills with his newly acquired Spirit Cores.

I get the main idea, he mused as he picked pieces of blood-clotted fur from between his teeth. Levelling in this world works on a kind of 'point-buy' system. For every Spirit Core I have, I can spend it to increase stats and skills.

Congratulations!

You have understood the basics of this world's leveling process


Don't patronize me, Ethan mumbled to his sarcastic little menu screen. I'm on a roll, here.

He looked through his stats and skills, realizing quickly that the current costs to increase stat points was only one Spirit Core, while the cost to increase [Skills] was much higher.

And I'm gonna hazard a guess that the cost gets bigger with every upgrade I give myself or my host…otherwise I could just kill fifty rats in this place and make myself a walking, furry little HP tank right now.

Ethan decided to test out his theory, increasing the HP of his reliable (and hopefully not too mentally scarred) little host by a single pip.

Host: Theodore the Rat is now a {Rat: Level 2}

[HP: +1]

[HP: 11/11]

[Spirit Cores] to Increase: 2

Current [Spirit Cores: 3]


Gotcha, Ethan nodded, bloody specks of his enemy's dried blood flying from his flaring nostril. Looks like I've got a lot of work to do here before I'm ready for the outside world. Then again…I'm betting there's stronger monsters in here than you, Theo. No offence, but I'd rather not stay a rat for the duration of my stay here…which looks like it's gonna be pretty long.

You have no idea

Why am I here, anyway? Ethan asked, possessed by a sudden urge to know what he admitted should have been a question he asked a long time ago.

You are [INFORMATION REDACTED]

You are a [Hat]


That sounds…super cryptic. What about my old life? I had…y'know, stuff going on.



You would
really wish to return to your home?

Don't take that tone with me, Ethan commanded – the single eye on his rim blinking in complete denial while his host merely stood, staring at the fallen rats and their gradually pooling blood. I'll have you know that the me back on earth was an upstanding, model citizen. Sure, maybe I was unemployed. Sure, maybe I only went to that birthday party to get me some grub. Sure, maybe no one invited me, and sure, maybe I choked to death on the first thing I ate. But…still…it was…something…

Shit. Can't even convince myself, never mind this snarky bastard…


Ethan instead turned his attention back to the reality of the mine shaft, observing his fallen kills with no small degree of satisfaction. Ordinarily, he'd have probably vomited at the sight before him – five once living rats torn apart by teeth that he owned – but he was strangely unperturbed by the whole thing. In fact, gulping down their blood felt as natural as filling himself with Mountain Dew during a midnight gaming session.

You know something? I think I might have found my true calling. Maybe I'm an assassin at heart.

You are probably just a sociopath.

I think that's unfair, Ethan mumbled back as he drove Theodore towards the overturned mine cart. Weren't you the one who told me that killing's the only way to power up in this world? Pot. Kettle, Mr System.

A sane human would have spent a long time adjusting to such bloody murder.

You, however, are a [Hat]

A [Hat] has no moral compass


Again – unfair. I'm still me, even if I am a dainty little hat. I wasn't some batshit crazy brute in my last life.

You are exactly what you need to be

Nothing more

Nothing less


Ethan ignored the System's increasing cryptic (and downright rude) messages, and instead investigated the mine cart that had the fallen rats so intrigued. Right now, he saw nothing but the fuzzy outline of an object – it was like a thin sheen of camera static covered it, denying him the ability to comprehend what the thing even was, never mind what it could do.

I mean, it looks like a sword, Ethan observed. But who the hell can be sure in a new world? System! Skill me up! Let's pull up my Appraisal.

[Skill Activated]: Appraisal (Rank F)

You can identify plain items with the (Common) identifier


Ethan watched as the fuzzy static slowly dissipated into the dank air to reveal the item that had the rats so interested:

[Item: Silver Dagger] {Common}

DMG (Base): 6-12 (Piercing)

SPECIAL: Especially effective against Undead


Now that's a shiny we could use, eh Theo? Too bad it's not exactly rat-shaped. Lack of opposable thumbs might just be our downfall, my furry friend.

As Theodore-the-rat-wearing-a-demonic-wizard-hat looked at his stubby claws with shame, the System decided to chime in with something useful for once.

As your System, I am compelled to offer you information that might aid you in your exploits.

Ethan smirked. He could almost feel the thing sigh at the restraints its programming placed on it. He wondered for a moment who the 'programmer' could be…and if he or she was watching him down here, right now…

[Skill: Transmogrification] (Grade F)

This skill allows you to morph an item to better suit your current [Host]


As Ethan read these simple words, desire formed in his heartless, threadbare chest. Desire that was strong enough to look passed the System menu screen and watch as the dagger slowly altered its shape before him, shrinking and filing itself into a thin silver tooth that slotted quite nicely into one of Theodore's front fangs.

Oh, System…Ethan chuckled. You shouldn't have.

No. I really shouldn't.

I've finally made it, Theodore, Ethan sniggered, checking his new sleek weapon out in a muddy puddle beside the cart. I'm fabulous. We're fabulous.

Ethan liked to think that somewhere in their shared mindscape, his little rat friend was also appreciating his new silver tooth. So many things in this little place the guy called home were eminently pierceable, after all. And he'd just gotten the upgrade of a lifetime.

The thought then resolved in Ethan's head as he moved away from the minecart, wondering who had left the silver blade there in the first place.

Theo, he told his obedient host. I've just settled on our first quests. One: find out what happened to the miners who left their equipment here. I'm betting their boss had some proper decent loot. And two: make us the most OP rat who ever lived.
 
Chapter 3: Raticide
Congratulations! You have slain a [Rat {Level 1}]

Congratulations! You have slain a [Rat {Level 1}]

Congratulations! You have slain a [Rat {Level 1}]

Congratulations! You have slain…


If I could choose a backing track for this killing montage, Ethan mused as he chomped down on the innards of another mangled rat. I'd probably go with 'Ready to Die' (look it up, it's not as cringey as it sounds).

For once, his System didn't have an ambivalent-to-borderline-scornful objection to his thoughts. It seemed to have given up after he'd slain his twentieth rat today.

[Current Spirit Cores: 25]

He'd already upgraded Theodore's HP to 15 and Speed to 30 for some extra survivability and swiftness. His assassination technique was by this point perfected. The rats who dared to scurry about in his domain had learned to fear the Silver-Toothed Shadow that stalked the corners of their domain – the one that wore the single-eyed hat upon its brow.

If Theodore objected to any of this, Ethan certainly wasn't aware. Could rats get PTSD? He supposed he'd find out when he left his little host.

And he would have to leave him eventually – of that, he was certain. From his hours spent in this dank, decrepit mine, he could tell that the only reason he was succeeding was because he was maximizing his environmental advantages. Out in the open, he'd be food for the first vulture that came his way. Assuming this world even had vultures…

Argwyll has more than just Vultures. There are winged beasts the likes of which strike fear into even the most powerful beings that walk this earth.

Argwyll…Ethan thought. So that's the name of this place.

Ethan continued exploring each winding shaft, leaving the torn remains of rats to guide him and ensure he wasn't doubling back on himself. A tail here, an eyeball there – little markers that Blobbers had taught him were useful for traversing maze-like dungeons.

But he had to admit, if this was some kinda tutorial dungeon, he wasn't impressed. All he'd come across so far were rats and the occasional spider – and not even the poisonous kind.

More pressing was the fact that he kept discovering mining equipment and evidence of workers' exploits in most of the biggest vaults and shafts – ore veins of iron and silver that had been battered with picks before they had been forgotten about entirely. Crates full of coal and ore littered the bottom section of the mine, and Ethan's only lead for ages was the cart tracks that seemed to stretch on for untold miles. Following the tracks took him deeper and deeper, until Theo's [Detect Life] Skill stopped picking up the scents of rats and started picking up the scent of something bigger. Something that waited in the depths. Something that, probably, wasn't friendly.

Something that's gonna be mine…Ethan thought as he raced down the section of track he'd been following for the past hour. An area Boss, maybe. On that note, I'm not overly cautious, Theo, but I'd prefer it if we were properly prepared before we took it on. We've seen what happens when I boost our stats. Now, let's see what happens when I boost a Skill…



Hey, System? That's your cue.

Right away…

Without the bitching for once, maybe? Come on, even you've gotta admit that your Legendary Hat is living up to his status.

Oh, yes. You have shown just how brave you are by committing mass rat genocide as your first act in this world.

Isn't it weird how a [hat] supposedly doesn't have a moral compass but a System does? Ethan retorted as he rounded a corner and leaped over a precarious chasm where the cart-track continued. You'd rather I sat back and just looked pretty on that skeleton's head, huh? News flash, bud: if I'm gonna be a [Hat] in another world, I'm gonna make sure I'm the best damn hat that's ever…hatted.

And I am stuck with you. For better or worse.

Very well…


Hat {Legendary}

Skill List:

Possession {Grade F}

Skill Transfer {Grade F}

Transmogrification {Grade F}

Spirit Cores to increase any [Hat] skill from F-E: 250


Host: Theodore the Rat {Level 25}

Skill List:

Hide (Grade F),

Skitter (Grade F)

Detect Life (Grade F)

Bite (Grade F)

Spirit Cores to increase any [Rat] skill from F-E: 10



Well, well, well…looks like someone's got it lucky in this world. You could max out your stats in no time compared to me, ol' Theo. Though in fairness, your likelihood of surviving anything more than a dwarf's foot is less than zero…

Theodore the Rat continued running at the behest of the Hat he'd been unfortunate enough to irritate. Somewhere deep behind his suppressed consciousness, he was evaluating all of his life choices up until this moment.

I'm gonna level with you, Theo, Ethan told his Host as he scrabbled along the increasingly ruined and rotted mine cart tracks. Whatever's down here, I gotta possess it. We've all but depleted the rat population of this place. But don't you worry. I'm gonna give you a taste of real power just before we're done with our partnership.

Skill: Hide (Grade F)

Upgrade complete!

Skill: Hide (Grade E)

[Hide] can now be activated during combat.

Success is determined by your SPD stat vs enemy PER stat

Spirit Cores to increase to Grade D: 40


Now we're a real assassin, Ethan giddily mumbled to his hatbound host. And I've still got 10 spirit cores leftover to help with the possession of our big foe. Admittedly I'd have liked a couple more to be on the safe side. But, meh, I've had worse odds against me before.

Basic attacks and certain [Skills] can be used to lower the [WILL] of a creature

Sometimes persistence and patience will serve you you.


Huh. So, it's not just about cutting down a monster's HP for me – it's about fighting them to the point where they basically give up trying and submit themselves to my thready embrace.

As uncomfortable as that sounds, you are correct.

Ethan smiled (somehow).

That means upgrades should always be on the table…

His manic sprinting then finally came to an abrupt end. He had just come to the lip of a large chasm reaching into a seemingly endless depth. The thick red-scent trail cascaded down the chasm, and Ethan realized that, at this point, there was only one way to go.

Theo? He asked his host. Are you with me?

No reply was forthcoming.

System?

Unfortunately so.

That's the spirit! Ethan squeaked. Into the abyss!

The climb down the chasm was made easy by Theo's claws. Ethan kept him in [Hide] mode just to be on the safe side. A couple of spiders served as easy prey on their journey, even if each one offered up only a single Spirit Core as bounty. He'd have to remember to possess one in the future. If he was right about his [Skill Steal] ability, then he'd be able to transfer and upgrade any skills he attained from creatures he possessed. The possibilities were endless. Ethan knew that even the most basic skill used creatively could change the entire course of a battle. Therefore, it only made sense to possess one of every creature he could at some point in his adventures on Argwyll – but probably only if he could ensure his own survival. After all, he didn't have a [HP transfer] skill…which limited how useful a weaker form could be.

Eventually, he made it to the bottom of the depths and Ethan relinquished his grip on the solid earthen walls, dropping down into another blackened shaft with an audible snap!

But this was not, as Ethan feared, the snapping of his tiny rat-bones. As he surveyed the floor of the chasm, Ethan saw nothing but stretches of lithe skeletons and torn limbs, whole mounds of dead men of all shapes and sizes, surrounded by half-chewed pickaxes and crushed rocks.

Well, I guess we know what happened to the miners…the only question now is: what did them in?

His eyes then centered on something that had just sniffed the air before him. Something big. Something bulky. And something mad. It rose from a mound of bones that it must have been sleeping under and prospected the new visitor to its lair through four beady eyes, all matted hair and muscle shimmering with the dried blood of its slain victims. Its mouth opened in a snarl that revealed row upon row of serrated fangs throwing spittle across the whole boney arena. And when it reared up and roared – its voice was the echo of a creature on the verge of frenzy.

BOSS ENCOUNTER!

Creature: Troll (LVL 10)

HP: 80/80

WILL: 35/35


Theo! Ethan roared in his host's headspace. Get ready to [Hide] and [Skitter]! We're gonna have to think about how to wear this guy down…

Theo?

His host's body would not move. No matter how much Ethan commanded its tiny limbs to skitter like hell.


Status Effect!

[Roar]

Paralyzed (5 secs)



The troll lunged forward with a ferocity that was beyond anything else in the mine shaft, intent on one thing only: ending the life of the hat-bearing, silver-toothed rat that now trembled before it.

And Ethan, having no other recourse, watched as it charged towards him.
 
The story looks interesting, im going to keep an eye open for this, keep it going because I want to see what direction this story go.
 
Chapter 4: Trolled
BOSS ENCOUNTER!

Creature: Troll (LVL 10)

HP: 80/80

WILL: 35/35

Hat {Legendary} currently under [Status Effect: Paralyzed]



Brace for impact, Theo!

Theo did so, but when the hulking arms of the troll came down to slam into the rat's fluffy little body, it was Ethan who felt the pain.

Shit!

Ethan went flying with Theo against the far end of the bone-covered arena at the very base of the mine, little bloody droplets smearing themselves across the dusty remains of the troll's eaten enemies – the miners.



[Rat {LVL 25}] HP: 8/15



We might be a higher level than him, Ethan thought as the grisly beast's four eyes found them in the darkness of its lair. But he's way chunkier than we'll ever be…but when has that ever stopped me from trying something crazy?

Ethan smiled internally as he shook off the pain from the troll's strike and watched it barrel towards them again.

Now, Theo!



Hide {Grade E} Activated



The troll smashed nothing but the already beaten bones beneath its feet, craning its muscly neck as it prospected the spot where it could swear a (very fashionable) rat had just been laying. A creature that should now be dead.

Then, the piercing pain radiating up his left ankle forced him to fall forward right slam into the chewed innards of the miners whose flesh now sat in his stomach.

Behind him, the silver-toothed rat skittered away back into the darkness.

Nice one, Theo! Ethan roared. Now, we just gotta keep him guessing.

As the troll roared again, throwing spittle and dried meat from its fangs, Ethan kept his distance. His gambit had paid off – looked like the troll's [Roar] ability not only required a charge-up time, but had an effective radius of effect. Evidently, keeping to the outskirts of his little boney arena was the best way for Ethan to deal with him.

Alright, Theo, he commanded as the troll threw a cloud of bones into the dark. Let's go in for another nibble!

Theo was driven towards the hulking troll once again, his silver tooth glinting in the dreary darkness of the depths. The tooth struck true – sinking deep into the troll's left ankle and successfully hobbling the beast. It fell, grunting and thrashing around, desperately trying to slash at its feet while Ethan once again slipped away into the dark.

Again and again, Ethan launched his string of sneak guerilla attacks at the troll of the dilapidated mine, taking more chunks out of his ankles and feet so that eventually his fangs began to leave a trail of black blood and bile in their wake. The troll, meanwhile, flopped around like a fish caught in a line, becoming more pissed off by the second.

Now we've got you, ya big hairy ape! Let's see just how you're looking now…



Creature: Troll (LVL 10)

HP: 47/80

WILL: 15/35



Almost there! Ethan declared. All we need now is another nibble and then it's time to catch us a fresh troll.

But as Ethan went in for his final strike, driving Theo with the tenacity of a Formula One superstar, the four beady, onyx eyes of his foe met his in the dark.



BOSS ENCOUNTER: PHASE 2!



…eh?

Instantly, the troll let out a piercing wail that forced the walls themselves to shudder and buckle. Ethan flew back, keeping close to the shadows, before realizing that this was no normal roar. No, this was a sound that signaled something far more sinister.

New mechanics…

He looked to the skies as he heard it: the distinct, thundering sounds of rocks falling from above as the chasm literally began to tear itself apart at the troll's command. Ethan reeled Theo back, activated [Skitter] and began zig-zagging between each falling rock towards his prey, intent on finishing this thing before any more insane moves were whipped out.

A multi-phase Boss fight. Really? You kept that one from me, Mr oh-so-snarky System!



Oh. Apologies.

This System can only provide information that its User has asked for.



Bull. Shit! Ethan spat in his mindscape. But I'll deal with you later!

Just then a boulder the size of a burlap bag rebounded off another and cascaded towards Ethan, knocking him against the side of the arena and drawing a pained squee! from his host.



[Rat {LVL 25} HP: 5/15]



The pain was sharp, but it was nowhere as terrifying as the sight Ethan then looked up to behold.

The troll was looking straight at him.

Skitter! Ethan's brain commanded. Skitterskitterskitterskitterskit-



[Skitter] duration: 10 seconds.

Cooldown: 20 seconds.



Fuck you, too!

In the next instant the hulking beast was upon him, literally smashing through the hailstorm of rocks as the chasm continued to tear itself apart. Ethan watched it coming, his brain consumed with nothing but the thought of impending death as the troll cleaved through rock and boulder both to stomp out his tiny life.

So, this is how it ends? he thought. I gotta admit, it's a better way than I went out originally…

The troll's eyes were getting closer with each passing second. Theo's limbs began to twitch on their own. Even through the control of a demonic hat, the creature feared the death that was so swiftly approaching it…

Hey, Theo, Ethan mumbled. We had a good run, right? Sure, we committed the odd mass murder or two, but who can blame us? We both got a raw deal in life, eh? You, being born as a rat. Me, being born as a living failure of a human, who was then reborn as a goofy fucking hat.

A goofy fucking hat that can do nothin' but take over the bodies of beasts who're just as down on their luck as he is…

Ethan didn't know what then prompted the sudden thought that roused itself in his mind. Perhaps it was his own penchant for wallowing in self-pity when things got rough. Perhaps it was his innate desire to shove two fingers in the face of his perpetual bad luck. Or, maybe it was nothing more than the mind of the creature he was currently piloting, begging him to come up with something so that it could persist in this dank, dark world for just a little bit longer.

The troll headbutted solid stone and opened its mouth in a roar that would hold its prey down, this time, while Ethan stared wide-eyed at its massive form.

…you ain't ready to go yet Theo, are ya?

Another rock smashed against the troll's head – and Ethan saw, as only his eye could, what he'd been waiting for:



Creature: Troll (LVL 10)

HP: 24/80

WILL: 9/35



…well, neither am I.

As the troll bared its teeth and readied its roar, Ethan gave what was to be his final command to his furry little flesh-puppet.

TOSS ME, THEO!

He came flying off the rat's head just as the troll activated its paralyzing shout. Its eyes bulged, meeting the single demonic slit of the rat's (again, very fashionable) hat that had suddenly and inexplicably snapped onto the top of his skull.

Alright, boy! Ethan screamed in his mind as he entrenched himself on his new prey. Time to heel!

The troll's scream howled through the dank air of the shaft, powerful enough to split apart the remaining stones that thundered down on the dusty graveyard that was its home. It spun out of control, eyes rolling back in its head, as it attempted to resist the urge to give in…to submit.

Down, boy! Down!



[Possession: in progress]

Troll WILL: 9 vs Hat {Legendary} Spirit Cores: 10



I said: down!

Before Theodore the now-freed rat's amazed eyes, the troll of the mine danced and flew through the air, its arms flying to scratch at the pointy blue thing that was affixed to its head, its eyeball bloodshot and veiny, pulsing as though it were injecting the troll with some evil substance.

The troll dropped to its knees, its strength expending itself, until its shifting eyes began to glaze over.

That's it…just…give it up!

The troll reached for the pointiest bone it could. From within its dying consciousness, Ethan could understand its intent.

Oh no you don't!

He pulled. The troll resisted. He pushed. The troll grit its fangs until they started to break.

And through it all, Theodore looked on with wonder and fear – his tiny rat soul unbound and able to witness the same horror that had been enacted upon it.

And when then the hulking troll's pupils faded away, and its great muscular form slumped to the ground, drooling profusely, the hat atop its head seemed to wheeze a sigh of relief.

…finally…



[Possession: Success!]

Trolls are strong and willful, but not clever. Truly, a perfect match for you.


Congratulations! You have successfully possessed a {Troll,Lvl 10} .

Spirit Cores: +30



[Status Update]

Host: Cave Troll {Level 10}



Stats:

HP: 24/80

MP: 0

WILL: 35/35

STR: 20

PER: 8

SPD: 10


CHA: 1



[Skills known]

Smash (Grade F)

Roar (Grade F)

Climb (Grade F)



As this menu then fizzled out, Ethan looked upon the boneyard of the mine with new eyes – eyes that showed him the form of a tiny, shuddering rat with a single silver tooth covered in copious amounts of black blood.

What? Are you telling me you don't recognize your old friend, Theo?

The rat double blinked up at his new form, probably still waiting for death.

Ah, come on. Even I'm not callous enough to take you out now, dude. You scratched my back, I scratch yours. Your life if now your own. Go on, frolic and hunt as the Silver rat of the mine. Find some supple lady rodents and build yourself a harem of legend. You've earned it, my little frie-



New Skill Conditions Met!

You may now employ [Skill Steal]

Using this ability, you may transfer one Skill from your previous host to a new one.



…actually Theo, maybe there's just one other tiny little thing you could help me with.
 
Chapter 5: Tradeup
[Skill Steal: Activated]

Congratulations! You have successfully transferred [Hide: Grade E] from Rat {LVL 25} to Troll {LVL 10}




What was that you said about not being callous?

Hey, hey, hey, Theo doesn't mind, do you, little guy? Now, go on, young one. Go forth and spread the word of your might. Become a king among your people!

Theodore-the-now-autonomous rat shook slightly as its skill was taken from it, cocking its twitching nose at the newly hatted troll.

It sniffled slightly, its tiny eyes looking not at the four dead beads set into the great beast's face, but at the blinking demonic eyeball of the hat it was wearing.

Oh, look, don't go all Lassie on me. Go on, little guy, go! Live your life to the fullest!

The rat twitched its blood-soaked whiskers at him again.

Go! Just…just go! Before I change my mi-

CRUNCH

Ethan brought up his left claw to see the puncture mark Theodore had just gouged into it.

Um…ouch?

Theodore then spat out a tuft of bloody hair before scurrying back into the darkness from whence Ethan had met him.

Honestly, are you really so surprised that happened?

Theo…did you hate me the whole time?

Probably. You did possess him against his will, after all.

After he nibbled my hem, Ethan reminded the System. Non-consensually, might I add.

He looked at the tiny droplets of blood the rat had left in his wake, straightening his new, muscly back and sighing through his new, massive fangs.

Ah well. It was a fun starting adventure for a while. But now – now we've traded up for a deluxe model. This thing's a badass.

He looked at the mighty claws and his hair-covered chest clotted with the blood of the miners this beast had obviously disposed of.

Well, shall you be giving a name to this new Host of yours?

Ethan thought about it, scratching his thick-set chin with satisfaction.

You know something? I don't think so, this time. It gets you too attached, y'know?

Believe me, I do.

I really, really do.

Come on, Sys, Ethan replied jovially, having completely forgotten that he had only five minutes ago almost resigned himself to death. Check out these muscles. Check out these teeth! Y'know, for an ugly bastard monster living in a ruined mine shaft, this guy really had some great dental care…

As he did a few stretches, the System menu appeared before Ethan with a brighter sheen than it had ever before.

…Sys?

Yup, Ethan replied, picking at a stray piece of skin lodged in his back teeth. I figure since we're in this together for the long haul, I might as well give you a sweet nickname. You don't mind, do ya?

This System is programmed not to care about how a User refers to it.

It still despises that you have chosen to demean it this way.

Perfect, Ethan replied, blinking up at the dark chasm above his head.

Dare I ask what your next course of action is?

Ethan smiled a gory, truly trollsome smile.

It's time to get outta this mine, he thought. I'm betting there's a big world out there for me to play around in. No more rats for me. This troll's going huntin'

[Skill Activated: Climb {Grade F}]

You latch onto solid, earthen surfaces with your claws, and ascend as long as you are not also being attacked.

Ethan then began an ascent that would finally take him far from the great mine shaft that would serve as the beginning of his legend, leaving behind the bones of the dead, and the sole rat that remained in the entire makeshift dungeon.

I will agree with one thing you said: the world out there is not ready for you.

And to be honest, neither am I…



Skill Activated: Slam {Grade F}

You pound an enemy or a spot of your choosing, delivering a sound blow that is capable of damaging armor

DMG: 20 + STR

Spirit Cores required to upgrade {Troll} Skills from Grade F – E: 25



Ethan had long grown bored of skulking through mine shafts and corridors, plucking cobwebs from his four-eyes and shuffling through broken mine carts. He almost missed Theo's small, agile form, but the brutish strength of this troll had its own uses.

He had been staring at a pile of boulders that had been the result of a cave-in far above the troll's lair – probably accomplished by the troll itself. It seemed to Ethan like the best way to trap the miners and force them into its humble abode for consumption.

Through the cracks in the stones, small beams of light shone and struck his bloodsoaked skin.

Hm…I have a hunch…Hey, Sys, can you-

Right away, right away.

[Skill: Slam {Grade F}]

Grade E Upgrade: Slam can now be used to remove physical obstacles

Success will be dependent on your STR Stat

Upgrade Skill [Slam]?

You know it, baby, Ethan mumbled as he danced happily atop the head of his dead-eyed troll puppet.

Congratulations! You have upgraded [Slam] from Grade F – E

Spirit Cores remaining: 5

Spirit Cores to Upgrade {Cave Troll} Skills from Grade E – D: 60


Ethan noted the notification, seeing that these upgrades certainly did come at quite the cost. But now, as fully grown and healed up cave troll, he had not only stealth on his side, but raw, naked strength to boot.

And with such strength behind him, he reeled back, grit his fangs, and let fly a [Slam] against the mine entrance blockade.

World, meet Ethan the {Legendary} hat! I'm only sorry it took me so long to meet ya.

Ethan's [Slam] struck true, pummeling through the fallen boulders like they were pebbles on a broken road. What came next was a sight for four sore eyes: the world of Argwyll burst into brilliant life before him.

Woah…

He had to shield himself from the rays of sunlight that blasted his retinas. Luckily, his meaty claws managed to block out the sun with ease. He moved forward slowly, acclimatizing to fresh, clean air, and generic sounds of peace: birds chirping merrily, a gentle wind rustling the leaves of the forest that stretched out before him. The ground was covered in a field of lush, fertile grass. Stepping out and feeling it between his twitching toes, Ethan would have been forgiven for thinking he'd just stepped out into an entirely new dimension from the one he'd been thrown into a day or so ago.

It's…actually pretty chill out here.

Indeed.

You have entered REGION: GRENBELM FOREST in GLOBAL: KINGDOM OF ELARYA

REGION: GRENBELM FOREST is known for its harmonious locales and the delicate balance of its ecosystem.

It is a shame that you will bring such ruin upon it.

You always think the worst of me, Ethan mumbled back to Sys. He then stretched his legs, deciding to take in the sights before he made his next plan.

How do you know that I don't wanna just set myself up as a farmer? Hm? A muscly, hip, sassy troll farmer – a paragon for monsters everywhere?

It is not what you are.

It is not who you are.

You are only what you must be. As are we all.

Ethan furrowed his hairy brows.

You said some cryptic shit like that before, he said. What's it mean? What exactly aren't you telling me, Sys?

That information is considered [CLASSIFIED]

Figures. Well, while I'm here, it's time to get acquainted with the local region.

He could already smell the scents of prey nearby. To his left – a glade of deer totally unsuspecting. To his right, about five clicks from the mine's location, a den of wolves that he could make his own.

Ethan stretched his massive limbs, his smile showing his still bleeding fangs shining against the midday sun.

I've got a boss monster as my Host, a stealth skill that gets me double damage, a buttload of skills to improve, and an entire forest full of creatures to play with.

In the middle of the picturesque Grenbelm forest, Ethan the hat cracked his troll servant's knuckles, before lumbering towards the general direction of a nearby wolf den.

Time to get to work.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 6: Here comes the good guy...
Trolling the Grenbelm Forest: Day 5


Ethan yawned as he picked away at the open ribcage of a slain wolf that had wondered so willingly into his den.

In fairness, it was the den of the forest wolves first, but the creature's disregard for the ancient adage of 'Finders Keepers' meant Ethan was more than justified in standing his ground and pummeling the creature into the earth.

He chewed away at his fallen prey, his great claws covered in blood and viscera from his almost week-long grind/camping session.

You know, this place ain't so bad, really, he thought atop his chewing troll Host. Seems like this troll's stomach's so strong I don't even have to cook these wolves – and believe me, they hit they spot. Nice to know that I inherit the tastebuds and stomachs of my Hosts as well as their eyes and limbs.

Oh, yes. After your twenty-fifth I can see you have developed a taste for wolf.

How nice for you.

They do nothing for my waistline, let me tell you, Ethan told the dismissive Sys. But at least I can move on if my boy here gets a little too big.

Indeed, you are making phenomenal use of your powers, [Hat {Legendary}].

If only more of you would reincarnate in Argwyll. Truly, humanity is a species worth protecting.

Dunno if I'd go that far. But – well – my new shiny stats speak for themselves, don't they?


Host: Cave Troll {Level 30}

Stats:

HP: 90/90

MP: 0

WILL: 35/35


STR: 20

PER: 8

SPD: 30

CHA: 1



[Skills known]

Smash (Grade E)

Roar (Grade E)

Climb (Grade E)

Hide (Grade E)

Current Spirit Cores: 55


Ethan smiled to himself atop the troll's bloody head, eminently satisfied with his progress. It had been a busy few days of almost constant combat – fighting, resting, recuperating and restoring his health using the flesh of his foes. At times, he required sleep to restore more of his HP when he'd been accosted by groups of the Grenbelm wolves or the giant boars that made their homes here. Many creatures had come and gone – interlopers assaulting his new little cave lair – and each of them had been repulsed with a roar and a slam. It looked like the creatures of Grenbelm forest were all of way too low a level to deal with the monster he'd possessed – and slowly but surely he noted the dwindling numbers of animals who dared poke their heads through the long grass and bushes to spy on his happy slaughtering.

Death and destruction. I expected nothing less of you.

Hey, hey! Ethan balked as he wiped his Host's gooey lips. You know this isn't just to satiate my own desire for bloodshed, right? Ever heard of grinding? Camping? These are holy tried and true RPG mechanics, my dear Sys. I'm just saving up till I can upgrade Roar again and then I'll be well on my way.

To do what?

To find something even stronger, Ethan shrugged.



The simplicity of your desires is staggering.

Why [REDACTED] chose you is beyond me.



See, there you go again, foreshadowing shit that I've just gotta know. I wonder, Sys – are you keeping secrets from me because you want to, or because you have to?

When no reply was forthcoming, Ethan decided to drop the subject. He looked over the crimson-streaked walls of his den, seeing fly-ridden animal carcasses piled on top of eachother that were probably beginning to stink like hell. Fortunately, it the trolls of this world had a distinct lack of noses.

The sun was starting to set over the tops of the lush trees above, and Ethan found himself oddly at peace.

You know something? I think I'll take a load off for a while. Sys? If anyone comes by, give me a little shout, alright?

I exist only to serve your whims, oh great and brave devastator of innocent forest creatures

Ethan curled up to rest on a free space between his chewed corpses. Despite the ruinous environment he'd carved into the earth around him, he went to sleep almost instantly wearing a goofy smirk upon his furry face.

…I really hope I get some companions beside you soon, he whispered to Sys. Even a demon hat gets lonely, y'know…

…I do.





"I saw it, so I did! I saw it with me own two eyes!"

The village of Carmorgh was in an uproar. In the last forty-eight hours, a general alarm had thundered through the people, and a tense atmosphere had overcome the normally mundane goings-on of the sleepy hamlet. Mothers ran with their babes in the streets, crying out for heroes to save them from the beast that was coming to slay them all. Fathers busily plying their trade in the fields of barley wheat took up their hoes and promised that they'd be the one to slay the demon that had made its home in the forest beside their village. Presently they had gathered in the town tavern – The Tipsy Tart - and were arguing about who exactly would be the one to take the beast's head. Others shared their stories of seeing the beast as they went hunting in the forest, many barely making it back home before the monster tore them to shreds.

"It was as big as a camel, with twice the hitting-power of a Stone elemental!"

"I looked in its eyes and couldn't move!"

"It's a wizard, so it is! I saw it cast a fireball out its bare arsehole!"

"It's waitin' there, bidin' its time while we sit here like weak little Hopla! We gots ta take the fight to the beast! Put its head on a spike!"

"Well then, what are you waiting for?"

All heads turned towards the man who asked that question – the man wearing the grey hood in the far corner of the tavern. A man who downed cheap booze with his single arm. His other empty socket was draped with his grey cape and cowl, but all the same his mere presence caused a murmur of discontent to weave its way between the villagers, who had expected a far less hostile attitude from the man who was supposed to be a hero...

"Um…that is…well…we were hoping that you might…"

"Solve your problem for you?" the cloaked man sniggered as he pounded back another flagon of beer and called out for another. "Typical of you peasant types. Can't ever take out your own trash. You think you'll harm a fully grown cave troll with sticks and stones?"

The tavern patrons shuffled uncomfortably about, many of them sheepishly hiding their weapons. In truth, they had only plucked them out as a show of dedication. Most of them were looking to the hooded man for leadership – like they always did ever since he had come to live among them.

"Th-this one's different, Sir Artorious!" one of the farmers dared to shout. "You're the bleedin' Lightborn! Can't you just do your jo-"

The dark stare of the one-armed man silenced the drunken farmer instantly. But the warrior just lifted his drink and downed it in a single gulp.

"Last time I checked, I was still retired," he told the desperate villagers. "Call my Brothers and maybe one of them will come by in a fortnight. Till then, hang tight. Cave trolls don't tend to wander from their lairs."

"But – but this ain't no ordinary cave troll! It's a wizard, so it is!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"It's the truth!" another beleaguered farmer broke in. "Me and Dave seen it close up! Its eyes, its fiery claws…the little hat on its head…"

Silence descended on the room as the man lifted his face to the crowd.

"What did you just say?"

His piercing blue eyes shot up at them like sparks of lightning, and the response of the collective patrons was no more shocking.

"I – well – it – it wears a little hat!" the unfortunate villager who had revealed this strange detail stammered."An evil hat, so it is. Something about it…something…well, evil! Evil and –"

The screams of this villager were cut short by the cloaked man slamming some coins on the bar and nodding silently to the proprietor of the Tart. A storm had begun outside, and yet the one-armed man barely paid any heed to the rain lashing off his pearl-white hair and skin. He said nothing as he marched out of the village and began walking with steely determination towards the dirt road that led to Grenbelm forest, leaving the bemused villagers to whistle, clap their hands, and chitter about their problem that was about to be solved.





[Bounty Contract Issued!]

Target: Hat {Legendary}

Ethan opened his eyes to the groggy sight of a rainswept forest, remembering that he was sleeping on the dirt of his appropriated cave-lair. He shook his head, wiped a matted claw over his four eyes, and tried to focus on the strange blurry letters floating in a box before him.

…Sys? Sys what's…what's goin' on?

As though the System was screaming in his face, the words reformed and flashed obnoxiously, moving closer and closer to his face.

[Bounty Contract Issued!]

[Contract details: SLAY THE DARKSEED!]

…Darkseed? Ohhhhh, I get it. Some poor sod's got a price on his head. Where's he at, Sys? Who is it I gotta kill? I'm betting the reward's well worth the eff-



YOU, [Hat {Legendary}]

It is you

…wha?

As if on cue, a flash of thunder then signaled the appearance of someone moving through the bushes at the edge of the den.

Ethan jumped up, expecting another unwary animal to have wandered into his midst. Instead, what he saw a middle-aged gentleman who looked like death itself. He stood there, his sapphire eyes gleaming in the night, resplendent in a hooded cloak that looked grayer than the dark clouds that had gathered above the forest floor.

Ethan watched his single arm twitched towards his belt, fingers grasping for something at his side…

*I think this old guy's lost…*he mumbled sadly. Better just give him a beating and send him on his way. Much as I need me some juicy Spirit Cores, I don't like the thought of messing up cripples.

On the contrary, it seems this man is exactly where he wants to be

Ethan watched the old warrior unsheathe a thin, silver rapier from his side – a blade so fine that it sliced through the raindrops themselves as he withdrew it from his side with superhuman speed.

"To think…" he mumbled, voice hoarse and gravely. "To think that you would return here…of all places…"

Alright, now I'm getting some serious stalker vibes, Ethan mumbled, raising his arms and growling menacingly at this old upstart.

If your dearest 'Sys' could make a suggestion – run

Fat chance! Ethan shouted in his mindscape, his eyes lighting on the sickening smile spreading across the old geezer's face as he marched forwards, weapon drawn and angled down at his side.

And Ethan, for the first time in this new world, felt the pangs of fear wrestle in his troll stomach.

"My name is Sir Artorious Pendragon of the Greycloaks," the invalid swordsman said. "In the name of my Order, for the good of this world, and for my own honor, I shall destroy you."
 
Chapter 7: Old men hit hard!?
"My name is Sir Artorious Pendragon of the Greycloaks," the invalid swordsman said. "In the name of my Order, for the good of this world, and for my own honor, I shall destroy you."

Ethan's troll form blinked at the visage of the old swordsman cutting through a sheath of raindrops with his rapier.

…Pendragon? Really? If I could talk, I'd give you a roast you wouldn't soon forget, buddy.


His desire to laugh out loud at the warrior's ridiculous name was cut short by the speed with which the old geezer then struck – his blade a blur that shot through the air towards the heart of Ethan's Host.

Shit on a stickaroo!

[Hide: Activated]

The rapier of Sir Artorious impaled nothing but bloody rock at the far end of Ethan's den. The warrior's smile never left his old, grizzled face.

"A cave troll with the hide skill? I can see you've already picked up some tricks."

Lemme show you another one!

Ethan came flying at the old geezer from the shadows of his lair, both arms raised and ready to pound the living hell outta the guy.

[Slam]

Ethan could have sworn that he hit him. He could have sworn that the power behind his sneak attack had connected with the swordsman as he struggled to free his blade from the craggy rock it was stuck in. But all his claws caught was the rock itself – smashing it to pieces and leaving him wondering where the hell his opponent had just gone.

Then – blood. Blood and pain, pounding just beneath his chest. A blow that had missed the heart of his host by only a few inches.

Ethan looked down, seeing that the blackened blade of the swordsman had just torn clean through his gut.

And just before he doubled over in sheer, animal agony, he activated the only other trump card he had.

He threw back his host's head as the swordsman withdrew his blade and let out a roar that stopped the rapier before it pierced his heart. This time, his [Slam] caught the old man as he reached out and spun both his arms like a broken merry-go-round. His fists met resistance, and then he heard the grunting sounds of the warrior as he went flying out of the den and back into the rainswept forest.

Ethan stumbled forward, trying to maintain a sense of balance.

…Damn…that…that was…shit…

HP: 50/90

Forty goddamn damage from one hit!? He raged, feeling the blood of his Host pool and dribble from his fanged mouth. What the hell's this guy packing?

As though in answer, Artorious flew like a sparrow through the hailstorm again, the tip of his blade aimed straight at the cave troll's forehead.

Only through Ethan's speedy activation of [Hide] did he manage to just barely avoid the seeking blade of his foe, though he still came away with a deep gash torn in his hulking shoulder.

HP: 40/90

He fell. He dropped into a roll and felt his left arm go completely limp, gasping for air and finding that one of his Host's lung's must have been punctured by the first strike of his foe.

Sys…he wheezed as he tried to find the old guy amidst the thundering storm of rain and sleet that blasted the forest. What's this guy all about?

That information is considered [Classified]

"Do you feel afraid, creature?" a voice then emanated from a direction Ethan couldn't intuit. "Good. Die, alone and fearful."

A flash of silver shone in the night. Ethan turned and met the attack head-on, letting the blade of his foe pierce right through his wounded arm and watching as the snarling face of his opponent finally came into view.

He felt unbelievable agony radiate up his entire left side, but brought up his other arm in a Slam that managed to pulverize the chest of the warrior, finally disarming him and sending him flying back into the storm-wracked trees.

Have – that! Ethan yelped, tearing the blade from his hand with an extreme effort. It was taking everything he had not to relinquish the form of the clearly dying troll.

HP: 20/90

He tried appraising the weapon of his foe that now lay at his feet, thinking he could get a Transmogrification off that could turn the tide of battle. But once again, the blade was nothing but a series of blurry sparkles to his untrained eyes. Whatever the vile weapon was, it was clearly better than [Common] in nature…

Perhaps you would like to recall the advice this System gave you?

Ethan grimaced, eyes scanning the bushes and brambles for any signs of movement in the rain-wracked landscape.

Yeah, I could run…he thought. But then I'd be letting my end-game puppet here get away…

He watched the lithe form of his opponent slowly rise from the Northern edge of his den, a spear of lightning announcing his survival.

"Surely you know by now that this is a fight you cannot hope to win, beast," he said. "Lay down your life and I will make your end swift, and painless.

Fuck me, will this guy stop it with the hero platitudes already? Anyway, he ain't doing shit as long as I've got his little toothpick under me.

Ethan kept his muscle-bound troll feet on the handle of the swordsman's blade, never once dropping his eyes from the sight of the hooded, still smiling man.

Come on, Ethan. There's always a way, remember? You can always find a way…Let's try a basic Appraisal. There's only one thing I gotta see…

Species: Human

Class: LIGHTBORN
LVL: 50
HP: 280/350
WILL: 50/???

Ethan's snarl was clearly visible even against the storm sweeping through the night.

That's all I need to know, he thought. He's strong, but his Willpower's failing him. Probably comes with dueling a beast that's actually putting up a fight. I get the impression this dude ain't used to monsters putting up resistance against him. He's got the air of a veteran monster slayer about him. With a class like 'Lightborn', that checks out. He's good - even if his name does sound like an Arthurian dweeb's Reddit handle. I'm gonna need to wait for the right moment.

Artorious stalked towards him through the dark, his every step the silent glide of a reaper.

"You're a fool if you think I need that sword to kill you," he said.

And you're a fool if you think I need this body to survive.

Another bolt of lightning signaled Artorious' inhuman charge. One blink and he had already bridged the gap between him and Ethan, his eyes staring not into the beady pupils of the troll, but into the demonic slit of Ethan-the-hat himself.

Ethan readied a roar just before the old man initiated a gut jab that could have probably punched clean through the troll's chest. Artorious managed to dodge backwards just out of range of the roar as it came, his form blinking into and out of existence as he waited for his chance to attack again.

He'll go for the kill – straight for the heart, Ethan thought. But even though he's moving faster than my eyes can keep up with him, he's still moving across the ground, isn't he?

Somewhere deep within his consciousness, Ethan felt a distinct sense of satisfaction emanating from someone or something. At first, he thought it might have been the remnants of the troll's subconsciousness. Then he realized that there was only one other person besides himself that truly cared whether he lived or died, here.

Sys? Is that some pride I'm feeling coming from you?

…You have a battle to win, [Hat]

Artorious wasn't wasting any time. Already he was renewing his assault, blinking forward a few paces at a time, darting into and out of the rainstorm, his every move cold, calculated, and precise.

But Ethan knew more than anyone that precision wasn't the only thing that won battles…sometimes, raw strength did the heavy lifting.

[Slam]

He balled his good fist and pummeled the ground, his Grade E Slam managing to cause the earth itself to fracture and quake, sending reverberations through the ground that caught Artorious mid-charge. Ethan found his stumbling form before he could blink away, and sent a ravenous punch at his face that sent him reeling back, rolling across the forest floor.

Hurts, doesn't it? I should know…

He watched the grey-clad swordsman wipe his bloodied nose and clutch his chest with his only arm.

"…Clever beast," he murmured.

Ethan wasted no time pressing his advantage. He bound towards the fallen warrior and, with a screech that tore through the crying heavens themselves, brought his claws down upon the broken human.

"…but not experienced enough."

Ethan's blow never came. In the second he was about to bring both his arms down he felt a resurgence of agony radiate up his spine, and his eyes shook as they rolled towards where the rapier had wedged itself: his lower back.

The thing had flown towards its Master's, and in the next second it detached itself from his back, spun like a ghostly top, and levitated right back into its Master's open hand.

That…is…so…bullshit.

HP: 5/90

He crumpled, feeling the life blood of his Host run dry as its arteries opened and spilled out on the ground. Rain battered his fading form, and as the heavens opened to send another blanket of hail upon the forest floor, the image of the triumphant Artorious emerged above him.

"I'll bet you felt so strong using the life of another to serve your vile whims," he said, placing a firm boot upon the troll's shuddering chest. "It feels good, doesn't it? Having others obey your every command without question. Taking power you haven't earned. Casting a shadow across this world for you and all of your vile hellspawn."

Oh, great, Ethan mused. A fucking monologue…

Artorious bent low, his smile fading for an instant as he looked into the singular eye of his true enemy – the hat he had come here to destroy.

"…every time," he said. "Every time you wake up, this world gets just a little more wretched. Why do you do it? Why do you keep coming back?"

The fuck if I know, dude. I just got here. Seems like you've got beef with someone else besides little ol' me. Now, while you're spouting LORE, would you kindly come just a little bit closer?

Artorious lifted his blade and angled it just above the throat of the dying troll.

"First your slave, then you," he said. "Perhaps this time this life will be your last. Pray to whatever God first spawned you in this realm that it is, Darkseed. For if you do rise again, you shall see my eyes staring back at you."

A swift, unbroken movement was all it took for the swordsman to end the life of the troll by plunging his blade into its neck. Ethan felt it – every pulsing welt of the creature's death throe thundered through his own incorporeal mind, sending shockwaves through his system that would have killed a regular human.

Lucky…for us…I'm not a regular human anymore.

With his final command he summoned all the troll's strength to commit to a single death-spasm – one that removed himself from the creature's head and wrapped his threadbare form firmly around the pasty scalp of Artorious.

"Wha – what trickery?!"

The swordsman staggered back from his fallen foe, eyes upturned, and face contorted in pain, as Ethan's single eye bulged and his pointed tip wiggled to avoid the frantic slashes of the old geezer's blade.

Time to take a rest, old man! he screamed in the consciousness of the flailing swordsman. Now, I do the talking for both of us!
 
Chapter 8: Old men are sneaky bastards
HOLD…STILL!

Ethan wrestled with the flailing swordsman Artorious of the Greycloaks, intent on nothing more or less than the absolute control of the latter's brain.

[Hat {Legendary} Spirit Cores: 55 vs Artorious Pendragon WILL: 50

Possession in progress…


I hate how they all put up a fight…

Artorious' every swipe and slash at Ethan's tip was only barely dodged by his flopping, hatty self. His fury was matched only by his frenzy, the spears of lightning tearing through the dark skies above adding furious percussion to his grunts and roars.

What's it take to bring this guy down?! Ethan screamed in his own mindscape, having not even Sys give him a sarcastic quip in response.

Possession in progress…25%

The warrior blinked around the water-beaten battlefield in an attempt to throw off the demonic parasite that was currently whittling down his mind. He threw himself to the ground and slammed his own head into the rocks that had once belonged to Ethan's troll Host. Ethan felt each impact through his steely focus, slowly beginning to fade away in the face of more pain that was compounded by the fact that he'd only just felt his host's heart stop mere moments ago…

Thankfully, this world's System didn't have a 'Trauma' meter. Otherwise…I'd have more baggage than I came here with.

The swordsman stopped abruptly, and Ethan was almost certain that, in that moment of clarity, the warrior had just heard his voice.

Possession in progress…80%

Go on, buddy, he goaded his foe. I've been through worse – in this world and another. Believe me, I can take everything you throw at me. So why don't you give it up, lie down, and just fucking give in!

Possession in progress…95%

COME ON! COME –

A sliver of laughter erupted from the swordsman's throat. He stood calmly, cooly, without a care in the world…

"So, that's how you do it."

Possession: FAILED

…what?

The next few seconds were a blur to the demon hat: Artorious reached up, grabbed him by his eyeball, tore him free from his scalp and tossed him across the grassy battlefield with as little effort as a dog tossing its chew-toy aside. Ethan felt himself bash against the firm bark of an oak tree shuddering against the raging storm, and then something small and sharp impale itself just above his eye – a thrown knife that had just pierced his flappy tip.

Ethan slumped, wiggling around in vain. The knife had attached him to the tree. And he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Sys! he practically roared in his mind. How the hell'd that happen?

The response was as jarring as the sight of the one-armed swordsman rising, wiping the blood from his pale features, and beginning a menacing march towards his trapped prey:

Humanoid: Artorious Pendragon

WILL: 950/1000


…he messed with me. He hid his true stats…

The ability is not a common one.

But if any would wield it, it would be the LIGHTBORN


Lightborn…that was this guy's class, right? What was it? The ultimate badass or something?

"I can tell by your unblinking eye that you are confused, Darkseed," the warrior said as he stalked towards Ethan. "That tells me you have not languished in this world for long. Argwyll can count itself lucky that you only committed a massacre of its most base creatures."

Sys, Ethan asked, trying as hard as he could to shut up another one of the old geezer's victory monologues. Just who the hell is this guy?

That information is designated [CLASSIFIED]

Ethan narrowed his eye to a hateful slit. Just who's side are you on, here?

"Frustrated?" Artorious asked him. "Angry that your life had such a short expectancy? Good. Let that fury be the knell that summons you to hell."

Fuck…just do me in now, dude. Spare me the fucking rhymes…

As the storm reached its apex above, and thunder announced the raising of Artorious' silver blade, the warrior spoke what he believed were the final words Ethan would ever hear:

"Know who it is that brings the End. I, Sir Artorious Pendragon, am the solution to you and all your vile species. Let the screams of the Darkseed echo through the night, and let the end of your life be the end of all your kind."

…my kind?

Another javelin of lightning signaled the final thrust of Sir Artorious as he plunged his rapier right into the eyeball of his trapped foe, and Ethan looked at the silvery tip of the blade that was to be his final sight…

…or at least, it would have been, if the blade had not instantly shattered into pieces as soon as it made contact with his pupil.

The silver rapier's fragments scattered harmlessly to the ground, and Sir Artorious Pendragon, Lightborn of the Greycloaks, stared into the eye of his foe with just as much surprise as Ethan had.

Gotta say, that really puts a dampener on your whole 'savior of the world' schtick you had going on there, huh?

Artorious' unblinking stare of stupidity was enough to bring Ethan back from his life having just flashed before his eyes.

Looks like thing's won't be so easy for you after all, eh old man?

The swordsman looked down at his busted blade with nothing but abject confusion smeared across his face.

"That is…new."

He trailed off, shaking away whatever thought had just entered his mind. Meanwhile, Ethan's eye caught something behind the smarting warrior that would have brought a smile to his face if he had a mouth to smile with. Or a face to wear that smile.

"It matters not how I kill you," Artorious growled through his dried, scarred lips. "If I have to beat you to death with my bare hands, so be it."

Only one small problem there, champ. And that's the weird looking girl that's currently aiming a staff at your back.

Before the swordsman had a chance to lay a pale finger on Ethan he felt the impact of something strong and cold against his back. He whirred, hands raised and ready to demolish his new opponent, before staring down at his feet and watching a creeping block of ice travel up them before he had a chance to blink away.

His eyes flew to the spot by the bushes where his assailant had just emerged, both her small hands clutching a wooden stave tightly before her.

"Er, um – y – you should cool…cool up?"

Another voice thundered from the bushes behind her.

"It's cool down, Fauna! Sheesh…finally you've got a chance ta say a badass one-liner to the Lightborn himself and you go and muck it up!"

"I…I – I'm sorry Tara! Really, I am! It..it's just that this is a very tense moment for me!"

"For you? What about the Darkseed!?"

Ethan listened to this interchange with an eye totally unblinking in disbelief. Then he watched as the two speakers came into the gradually growing light of the dawn: two young women, probably no older than eighteen by their sprightly steps. The staff-wielding girl wore a long, flowing dun robe with a hood – through which two long, floppy white ears were poking out. The other girl emerged with the grace of a practiced dancer, somersaulting from the bushes and landing on her long, lithe legs with supreme confidence. She stood beside her friend, resplendent in a tank top and ragged short shorts, her dark skin glistening against the rainswept environment. Then she shuddered, twitching the two cat-like ears that framed her face, her whiskers scrunching up as though she were about to sneeze the whole forest down.

"A Minxit and a Hopla," Artoroius growled from within his cage of ice. "Really?"

The cat-girl leveled a shortblade at the frozen warrior. "That's right, Mr I'm-the-savior-of-humanity-Lightborn! Take it all in. Get a good look at the hybrids that have come here ta end your legacy before it begins!"

Silence reigned in the forest then, broken only when the catgirl called out to someone over her shoulder.

"Klax? Um…he doesn't seem intimidated."

Another voice – one much more gruff and somber – answered her back.

"That's probably because he could kill us all with little more than a look. We can't all be as lucky as the Lightborn."

Before Ethan's eye a lumbering wolfman then appeared from his hiding place, a V-neck toga adorning his heavyset frame.

"I ain't afraid of him," the catgirl replied, spitting at the ground before her fluffy paws.

"You're not supposed to be, Tara" the wolfman – Klax – replied with a wry smile, shaking his wild mane free of rain. "This one likes to lull his prey into a false sense of security before he deals the final blow. Look how he managed to subdue the Darkseed."

What the hell is happening here? Ethan murmured.

I believe you are being rescued, as dismaying as that fact is.

The three hybrid humanoids watched as cracks began to appear in the ice-block that encased their foe – for he was their foe, that much was obvious even to an outsider like Ethan.

What was not so obvious was why they were here for him, or why they called him 'Darkseed'.

Come to think of it, that was what the bounty notice called me too, wasn't it? It means something. And whatever it is…it probably ain't anything that bodes well for a fledgling demon hat like me…
 
THANK YOU. Please tell me what you like and dislike so I can keep on improving :)
Can't say I have any real dislikes at the moment, it's an intriguing story with some decent plot points brewing with the system and the MC so I'm just eager to see it unfold.
 
Chapter 9: Hybrid Hustle
The thundering rainfall lashed at the trees of Grenbelm forest as dawn began to break over their tips.

On the ground, three monster-human hybrids stood before a partially frozen human – a one-armed swordsman who seemed more inconvenienced than furious at his temporary imprisonment.

And behind them all, still shackled to a rotten Oak tree by the human swordsman's knife, was Ethan the Legendary hat.

Just…gotta…wiggle…free!



You are witnessing history unfolding before you, and you deign it fit to wiggle like a fish on a line.



History? Ethan asked, his eye lighting on the sneering faces of the hybrids as they readied their weapons. Looks to me like a common brawl, and I'd rather not get caught in the crossfire.



They're here for you, [Darkseed].

No hybrid with an instinct of self-preservation would face off against a Greycloak otherwise, let alone the [Lightborn] himself.



I really gotta shut off your 'foreshadowing' setting, y'know that?

Cracks began forming in the ice-block that encased Artorious' lower torso, but the man looked on at his three new opponents with blaze eyes.

"If you obstruct my mission, then you are my enemies," he told them calmly. "I would suggest that you lay down your arms."

"Shut it!" the catgirl – Tara – barked back. "Hate to tell ya, but this is the end for you! Fauna: blast him!"

"Um…ah – ok!"

The robe-clad rabbit girl clutched her staff tightly within her pale hands and leveled it at the Lightborn's head.

"T-taste vengeance!" she squeaked. This was probably as threatening a battle cry as her species could create.

She twitched her ears, wiggled her nose, and kept her eyes focused on the buildup of searing, killing light gathering at the tip of her wooden stave.

"NOW!"

The command had been the catgirl's, and at her shout the rabbit-mage loosed her spell – sending a spear of radiant light streaking towards the swordsman's forehead…

…and just before it hit the bridge of his nose, the spell stuttered and died, balled into a small white ball of fluff, which then dropped to the ground with an indignant CLUCK!

At the frozen feet of the warrior now clucked a chicken, much to the frustration of her companions.

"…nice, Fauna. Real nice."

"Sorry!"

Plan B," the wolfman said, and as Ethan's eye switched to his position at the very edge of the den, he found that there was no-one there at all.

He's using [Hide]! A wolfboi after my own heart.

Sir Artorious of the Greycloaks heaved a weary sigh as he looked down at the tumbling chick beneath him.

"You think to defeat me by hurling poultry at my feet," he said.

The catgirl double blinked, immediately sheathing her blades and taking some time to stretch her legs and lithe, fluffy tail.

"Nope," she said. "But we are gonna run away from ya."

Ethan was just as shocked as the Greycloak was when the wolfman then appeared beside him, snatched him from the tree with speed far beyond anything Ethan had seen in this world thus far, and made a break for the rainswept treeline.

The arm of Artorious was quicker, however, lashing out and clawing for the wolfman's matted coat, which he would have doubtless managed to grab if the catgirl had not thrown a silver throwing knife which pierced his palm.

"MOVE!" The wolfman shouted as he sped away. "We've got the Darkseed. The job's done!"

"This ain't over, Greyboy!" the catgirl hissed before she turned to follow her friends. "This is just the beginning!"

The hybrids then disappeared beyond the bushes and brambles, leaving the swordman to look after the filthy beast who had just drawn his blood.



Ethan blinked through sharp thorns and thickets that beat against his threadbare body.

Hey! Watch it, furball! Is this any way to treat your 'Darkseed,' or whatever?

He was answered by the wolfman barking to his companion as she ran beside him:

"Tara! Is the teleport stone ready?"

"Thirty minutes!" the catgirl replied, her dark body flitting through the bushes like a living shadow, tail flicking around like crazy.

"Sorry, guys!" the rabbit hybrid squeaked. "I tried, really! I tri-"

"Forget about it, Faun," the catgirl said. "You've saved our asses more than enough. Besides, it's the Darkseed who's gotta take down the Lightborn. We'd have just slowed him down."

The wolfman looked down at Ethan and winked.

"Sorry," he said. "I know you're probably confused right now. But give our ugly mugs the benefit of the doubt, yes? We're here to help you. Just like you're here to help us."

Ethan's eye gazed up at him with knowing trepidation, and more than a little excitement.

Is this gonna be some kinda fate-tied-to-prophecy type deal? Am I…the One?



What do you think?



I think you could be a little more helpful.

Just then the fleeing hybrids were stopped in their tracks by the sound of gunfire to the east, and Tara dove for Fauna as a bullet whizzed by her friend's floppy ears.

"Shit! Get down!"

The cry was Klax's, and the wolfman immediately rolled out into an open glade where a score of human soldiers were waiting. When the girls joined them, they froze, seeing the vicious muskets and spears in the hands of the men.

"Hunters…" Klax whispered. "Looks like the Grey wasn't alone, after all…"

"That's them!" one iron-plated soldier said. "And…and look there! The hat!"

"The contract was right – it's him! It's the Darkseed!"

Looking into the furious eyes of the human militia, Ethan saw that his reputation preceded him. They had clearly seen this contract that had been placed on his head, and were here to share in the glory…

"How'd you wanna handle it?" Tara whispered to Klax.

"…stall them. Kill for time."

"We've got twenty whole minutes!"

"….then our good friend Fauna will just have to ready up something…explosive for our welcoming committee, here."

Holding Ethan in his right paw, waving him like a flag of surrender, the wolfman then barked at the humans and their readied weapons.

"I don't suppose you'd like to settle this peacefully?"

The cawing of two black ravens overhead penetrated the short silence that followed. A silence which was broken by the general cry that spilled from every human being's throats:

"KILL THE DEMONS!"

They charged in unison while the musket bearers began reloading their guns.

"Welp. That's humans for ya," Tara sighed. "What did you expect? Faun?"

"I'm ready!"

Klax groaned with weary resignation as he stretched his paws. "You all know what to do. Darkseed? Hang on tight."

WITH WHAT?!

Ethan's cry went unheard. The catgirl let fall a series of smoke-bombs that enveloped the glade, giving the hybrids the edge over their charging opponents. Ethan saw the claws of Klax scrape against the exposed eyes and elbow-joints of the soldiers that came at him, swiping clean through their chainmail armor and drawing blood that glistened along his grey hide. Whatever the catgirl and the rabbitgirl were doing, Ethan could only guess at: but he could hear the screams of their foes as they fell before them one by one, and Klax began to hop over bodies felled by his companions as he raced to help cover their flanks with his flaring fists.

These guys are good, Ethan thought. Wonder how much I could learn on top of their heads…

Klax's fists assumed a mantle of flame as the battle wore on, the wolfman channeling his energy into battering his foes with inhuman speed, delivering a few precise jump-kicks and roundhouse strikes that sent whole swathes of the human soldiers back.

"What are you doing!?" cried someone from outside the smoke-haze of the battlefield. "FIRE!"

A hail of bullets pierced the veil of the smokescreen, and Ethan saw his holder fall, his arm riddled with bullets.

"Klax!"

The cry was Tara's, and she was at her companions' side almost instantly, trying to get him up and carry him out of the way of the still swiping humans as they came forward with spears raised, ready to strike down the evil beings who held the demon hat.

Ethan then heard the shriek of something large as it swept down and plucked at the eyeballs of one spear-wielding soldier. One of the ravens from above had come to their aid…somehow.

"G-go!" the rabbit girl called as the smokescreen began to vanish, revealing the human forces that just kept coming. "The ravens will cover us!"

"Fauna…" Klax murmured. "You know we don't leave our own…behind."

The musketeers blasted the ravens as they soared towards them, under the command of Fauna as she fought off two roaring swordsmen with the help of the beleaguered comrades. Even as a hat, looking sidelong at the rampaging human soldiers who were intent on nothing more than the heads of his furry companions, Ethan could tell that this battle was not going their way.

Hey! Hey, wolfy! PUT ME ON SOMEONE'S HEAD!

Klax simply barked at Tara as she knifed an advancing soldier. "How much time left!?"

"T-ten!" the catgirl huffed, her face flecked with crimson.

Ethan could tell his bearer's eyes were beginning to glaze over in the face of the advancing army. They were being pushed back. There was no other way to say it.

And if you can't hear me, then I guess I've got no choice…I don't plan on dying here.



Don't tell me you're going to try and be a hero…



Hey, Sys, Ethan smirked within his mindscape. That's something you'll learn about me – I go with the flow. And right now, these guys are on my side. And I'm betting they'll have more to tell me about what's really going on here than you do…

Without waiting for another retort, Ethan managed to flap hard enough against Klax's claw that the great wolf let him go.

"Darkseed!" he shouted.

Ethan rolled along the grass, only gradually avoiding the feet and spears of the humans as they doubled back on themselves, trying to pin him down. They would have managed to get him if the hybrids didn't renew their assault, fighting the advancing horde to a standstill.

"Tara!" Klax called. "Find him!"

But Ethan didn't share the worries of his bloody comrades. He flopped towards one of the fallen ravens and met the bird's amber eye.

The group of musketeers aimed at them both with murderous intent.

Hey, birdy, Ethan thought. You'd look great in blue.
 
The thundering rainfall lashed at the trees of Grenbelm forest as dawn began to break over their tips.

On the ground, three monster-human hybrids stood before a partially frozen human – a one-armed swordsman who seemed more inconvenienced than furious at his temporary imprisonment.

And behind them all, still shackled to a rotten Oak tree by the human swordsman's knife, was Ethan the Legendary hat.

Just…gotta…wiggle…free!



You are witnessing history unfolding before you, and you deign it fit to wiggle like a fish on a line.



History? Ethan asked, his eye lighting on the sneering faces of the hybrids as they readied their weapons. Looks to me like a common brawl, and I'd rather not get caught in the crossfire.



They're here for you, [Darkseed].

No hybrid with an instinct of self-preservation would face off against a Greycloak otherwise, let alone the [Lightborn] himself.




I really gotta shut off your 'foreshadowing' setting, y'know that?

Cracks began forming in the ice-block that encased Artorious' lower torso, but the man looked on at his three new opponents with blaze eyes.

"If you obstruct my mission, then you are my enemies," he told them calmly. "I would suggest that you lay down your arms."

"Shut it!" the catgirl – Tara – barked back. "Hate to tell ya, but this is the end for you! Fauna: blast him!"

"Um…ah – ok!"

The robe-clad rabbit girl clutched her staff tightly within her pale hands and leveled it at the Lightborn's head.

"T-taste vengeance!" she squeaked. This was probably as threatening a battle cry as her species could create.

She twitched her ears, wiggled her nose, and kept her eyes focused on the buildup of searing, killing light gathering at the tip of her wooden stave.

"NOW!"

The command had been the catgirl's, and at her shout the rabbit-mage loosed her spell – sending a spear of radiant light streaking towards the swordsman's forehead…

…and just before it hit the bridge of his nose, the spell stuttered and died, balled into a small white ball of fluff, which then dropped to the ground with an indignant CLUCK!

At the frozen feet of the warrior now clucked a chicken, much to the frustration of her companions.

"…nice, Fauna. Real nice."

"Sorry!"

Plan B," the wolfman said, and as Ethan's eye switched to his position at the very edge of the den, he found that there was no-one there at all.

He's using [Hide]! A wolfboi after my own heart.

Sir Artorious of the Greycloaks heaved a weary sigh as he looked down at the tumbling chick beneath him.

"You think to defeat me by hurling poultry at my feet," he said.

The catgirl double blinked, immediately sheathing her blades and taking some time to stretch her legs and lithe, fluffy tail.

"Nope," she said. "But we are gonna run away from ya."

Ethan was just as shocked as the Greycloak was when the wolfman then appeared beside him, snatched him from the tree with speed far beyond anything Ethan had seen in this world thus far, and made a break for the rainswept treeline.

The arm of Artorious was quicker, however, lashing out and clawing for the wolfman's matted coat, which he would have doubtless managed to grab if the catgirl had not thrown a silver throwing knife which pierced his palm.

"MOVE!" The wolfman shouted as he sped away. "We've got the Darkseed. The job's done!"

"This ain't over, Greyboy!" the catgirl hissed before she turned to follow her friends. "This is just the beginning!"

The hybrids then disappeared beyond the bushes and brambles, leaving the swordman to look after the filthy beast who had just drawn his blood.



Ethan blinked through sharp thorns and thickets that beat against his threadbare body.

Hey! Watch it, furball! Is this any way to treat your 'Darkseed,' or whatever?

He was answered by the wolfman barking to his companion as she ran beside him:

"Tara! Is the teleport stone ready?"

"Thirty minutes!" the catgirl replied, her dark body flitting through the bushes like a living shadow, tail flicking around like crazy.

"Sorry, guys!" the rabbit hybrid squeaked. "I tried, really! I tri-"

"Forget about it, Faun," the catgirl said. "You've saved our asses more than enough. Besides, it's the Darkseed who's gotta take down the Lightborn. We'd have just slowed him down."

The wolfman looked down at Ethan and winked.

"Sorry," he said. "I know you're probably confused right now. But give our ugly mugs the benefit of the doubt, yes? We're here to help you. Just like you're here to help us."

Ethan's eye gazed up at him with knowing trepidation, and more than a little excitement.

Is this gonna be some kinda fate-tied-to-prophecy type deal? Am I…the One?



What do you think?



I think you could be a little more helpful.

Just then the fleeing hybrids were stopped in their tracks by the sound of gunfire to the east, and Tara dove for Fauna as a bullet whizzed by her friend's floppy ears.

"Shit! Get down!"

The cry was Klax's, and the wolfman immediately rolled out into an open glade where a score of human soldiers were waiting. When the girls joined them, they froze, seeing the vicious muskets and spears in the hands of the men.

"Hunters…" Klax whispered. "Looks like the Grey wasn't alone, after all…"

"That's them!" one iron-plated soldier said. "And…and look there! The hat!"

"The contract was right – it's him! It's the Darkseed!"

Looking into the furious eyes of the human militia, Ethan saw that his reputation preceded him. They had clearly seen this contract that had been placed on his head, and were here to share in the glory…

"How'd you wanna handle it?" Tara whispered to Klax.

"…stall them. Kill for time."

"We've got twenty whole minutes!"

"….then our good friend Fauna will just have to ready up something…explosive for our welcoming committee, here."

Holding Ethan in his right paw, waving him like a flag of surrender, the wolfman then barked at the humans and their readied weapons.

"I don't suppose you'd like to settle this peacefully?"

The cawing of two black ravens overhead penetrated the short silence that followed. A silence which was broken by the general cry that spilled from every human being's throats:

"KILL THE DEMONS!"

They charged in unison while the musket bearers began reloading their guns.

"Welp. That's humans for ya," Tara sighed. "What did you expect? Faun?"

"I'm ready!"

Klax groaned with weary resignation as he stretched his paws. "You all know what to do. Darkseed? Hang on tight."

WITH WHAT?!

Ethan's cry went unheard. The catgirl let fall a series of smoke-bombs that enveloped the glade, giving the hybrids the edge over their charging opponents. Ethan saw the claws of Klax scrape against the exposed eyes and elbow-joints of the soldiers that came at him, swiping clean through their chainmail armor and drawing blood that glistened along his grey hide. Whatever the catgirl and the rabbitgirl were doing, Ethan could only guess at: but he could hear the screams of their foes as they fell before them one by one, and Klax began to hop over bodies felled by his companions as he raced to help cover their flanks with his flaring fists.

These guys are good, Ethan thought. Wonder how much I could learn on top of their heads…

Klax's fists assumed a mantle of flame as the battle wore on, the wolfman channeling his energy into battering his foes with inhuman speed, delivering a few precise jump-kicks and roundhouse strikes that sent whole swathes of the human soldiers back.

"What are you doing!?" cried someone from outside the smoke-haze of the battlefield. "FIRE!"

A hail of bullets pierced the veil of the smokescreen, and Ethan saw his holder fall, his arm riddled with bullets.

"Klax!"

The cry was Tara's, and she was at her companions' side almost instantly, trying to get him up and carry him out of the way of the still swiping humans as they came forward with spears raised, ready to strike down the evil beings who held the demon hat.

Ethan then heard the shriek of something large as it swept down and plucked at the eyeballs of one spear-wielding soldier. One of the ravens from above had come to their aid…somehow.

"G-go!" the rabbit girl called as the smokescreen began to vanish, revealing the human forces that just kept coming. "The ravens will cover us!"

"Fauna…" Klax murmured. "You know we don't leave our own…behind."

The musketeers blasted the ravens as they soared towards them, under the command of Fauna as she fought off two roaring swordsmen with the help of the beleaguered comrades. Even as a hat, looking sidelong at the rampaging human soldiers who were intent on nothing more than the heads of his furry companions, Ethan could tell that this battle was not going their way.

Hey! Hey, wolfy! PUT ME ON SOMEONE'S HEAD!

Klax simply barked at Tara as she knifed an advancing soldier. "How much time left!?"

"T-ten!" the catgirl huffed, her face flecked with crimson.

Ethan could tell his bearer's eyes were beginning to glaze over in the face of the advancing army. They were being pushed back. There was no other way to say it.

And if you can't hear me, then I guess I've got no choice…I don't plan on dying here.



Don't tell me you're going to try and be a hero…



Hey, Sys, Ethan smirked within his mindscape. That's something you'll learn about me – I go with the flow. And right now, these guys are on my side. And I'm betting they'll have more to tell me about what's really going on here than you do…

Without waiting for another retort, Ethan managed to flap hard enough against Klax's claw that the great wolf let him go.

"Darkseed!" he shouted.

Ethan rolled along the grass, only gradually avoiding the feet and spears of the humans as they doubled back on themselves, trying to pin him down. They would have managed to get him if the hybrids didn't renew their assault, fighting the advancing horde to a standstill.

"Tara!" Klax called. "Find him!"

But Ethan didn't share the worries of his bloody comrades. He flopped towards one of the fallen ravens and met the bird's amber eye.

The group of musketeers aimed at them both with murderous intent.

Hey, birdy, Ethan thought. You'd look great in blue.
Oh yeah it's big bird time, peck all their eyes out!
 
I think a few extra line breaks snuck into the story.
 
Chapter 10: Flight of the Darkseed
Possession: Success!

Host: Dark Raven [LVL 15]

Stats:

HP: 50/70

MP: 0

WILL: 10/10

STR: 10

PER: 20

SPD: 45

CHA: 5




[Skills known]

Wing Buffet (Grade F)

Peck (Grade F)

Dive (Grade F)




[Transferred Skills]

Roar (Grade E)

Hide (Grade E)

Current Spirit Cores: 55




The giant raven did not resist. It didn't even budge as Ethan plopped down above its feathered brow and assumed his command over the beast's nervous system.

ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL. Heh, I've always wanted to say that.



You are an idiot.



Ethan clucked his new, sleek, birdly beak.

That's not what my little spectators think.

Indeed, the battle had stopped altogether in the second that Ethan had possessed the bird, and the human musketeers watched in awe as it rose, hat firmly attached to its feathered skull, and eyed them with vacant, dead eyes.

"By the Grey…" one musket bearer whispered. "It is the Darkseed's power!"

"Zombie bird! DEMON ZOMBIE BIRD!" cried another.

But the hybrids at the far end of the glade looked on with awe, smiles breaking across their fur-coated faces.

"What did I tell you?" Tara chuckled. "This Darkseed knows what he's doin."

They then began pushing back against their distracted opponents, while Ethan stretched his jet-black wings in front of the terrified soldiers.

Impressive wingspan! Now, let's just see what it can do.

The leader of the marksmen was clearly not as impressed as his men, barking an order at them that rebounded off their steel-plate helms:

"What are you sods waiting for?! SHOOT THE BASTARD BIRD!"

But such shots never came.



Wing Buffet (Grade F)

Your wings flap up a storm, {Repelling} any foes with STR lower than 15 away up to 20ft




Storm was right: as Ethan began a series of frantic flaps the musketeers were blown clean off their feet. Their eyes were their main strength, not their bulk, and so none of them were able to withstand the great buffet of the dark raven's assault. None of them except their red-faced master, that is.

"Bleedin' cowards! I'll deal with this one myself. FOR KING LYSANDUS! FOR THE GRE-"

The soldier's battlecry was interrupted by the piercing roar that sounded from Ethan's beak, his tongue lolling out and unleashing the paralyzing sound that he'd transferred from his last troll host.

"D-damn it…"

The soldier fell prone, face hugging the lush grass of the glade, ears picking up the sounds of his fleeing men all around him.

"G-GO TO THE KING! TELL HIM – TELL – TELL HIM WHAT IT IS! TELL HIM THAT IT'S-

The beak of the possessed raven came down on the back of his neck, and his final words were muffled as his lifeblood ran down his back.

Ethan retracted his beak from the fallen soldier, flexing his claws as he turned away and felt the Spirit Cores of his fallen foe run through his onyx breast.



Spirit Cores Increased: 80



Mmmhmm. Looks like humans are actually some of the best meals around. Who knew?

The soldiers were backing away from him while his companions continued cutting down the warriors who still tried to resist. Glancing over at them, Ethan saw that these guys clearly still didn't get the picture.

Well, Sys, I'll give you three guesses what happens now.





…Just get it over with.




Ethan did. With another wing buffet that sent the last of the marksmen flying into the depths of the forest, he rose and took to the skies – starless skies perfect for a skill he hadn't even realized he'd managed to transfer.



Hide (Grade E) Activated!



He felt himself blend into the skies, his new dark form feeling weightless and free as it disappeared from sight, bleeding away into the darkness itself.

Could almost just stay here, huh, Sys? Just stay flying up here till the end of time. If I was still the guy I was on earth, I'd probably have just done that.

…but that isn't who I am now, right?




This System is not here to facilitate your illusions of character development.



Ethan flashed a hawkish grin.

You know something? Maybe changing things up a little was just what I needed…

His sharp eyes then located the bulk of the human warriors below – those still engaged in bloody melee with his companions. Fauna was blasting them with spells (some of which were working), Tara was slicing and dicing every which way, and Klax was holding on as best he could, striking with his feet instead of his ruined arm. They were a picture of absolute focus.

But not even the most focused of creatures could keep their composure in the face of what happened next.



Dive (Grade F) Activated

You focus your speed into your attack, gaining a bonus to DMG based on your SPD stat and the distance you are from the enemy.

Current DMG bonus: +45




Before the incredulous eyes of the army, one soldier suddenly disappeared in a puff of blood and broken armor – his head practically caved in and his body reduced to a crumbling wreck.

"By the Grey! Who – where's the attacker? Where –"

The screaming man was the next to die – head being cleaved clean from his shoulders seemingly by nothing more than a sudden rush of wind.

And as Ethan soared right back up before he dived again into the wave of screaming soldiers below, he smiled to see his stats:



Sneak Attack: Success!

DMG: X2

DMG: 90

Spirit Core Increase: 100




You've gotta admit, Sys, now we're slaying with style.

Sys did not reply. Or, if it did, Ethan missed any retorts in the screams of the soldiers who were too busy ordering a general retreat.

"The Darkseed is risen!" Tara shouted at the fleeing bunch. "Go tell your rat-faced King! And your precious Greys!"

"Why don't you tell us yourself?"

A sudden rush of power slashed through the treeline – strong enough that Ethan took note as he was beginning his next dive-bomb assault on the fleeing humans.

He knew that voice. He'd never forget it, and his eyes begged his companions to run.

MOVE! He tried to shriek, turning midair and coming in hot as Artorious, eyes flashing with killing intent, hit the catgirl with a single jab to her stomach before grabbing her by the throat and slamming her into the ground.

"TARA!" Klax roared, joining Fauna as they both turned to take down the thawed swordsman. But Ethan was faster – bludgeoning into Artorious' scarred face with just as much force as he did those men he'd killed in a single strike.

And yet, miraculously, the one-armed man gripped his beak in his hand and stopped before Ethan could even touch his head.

"You think me as simple as a mere mortal?" he asked. "Your ignorance is as pitiful as your new friend's doomed struggle."

Ethan tried wriggling free, readying up a wing buffet to shake this guy off. But the strength of this…inhuman human…was unbearable.

With as much effort as throwing around a scrap of food, Artorious swung Ethan overhead and smashed him into the hybrids running to help their Darkseed out, watching as the rabbit-girl's staff was snapped in two and she fell to the ground.

The wolfman, meanwhile, was brought to his knees, breathing heavy and mouth bleeding onto the grass.

Ethan then felt his head go crazy as the Greycoak pounded him into the ground again, and again, and again…

"Pathetic," Artorious spat. "None of you can hold a candle to the true power of the righteous."

"Righteous…" Klax spat as he struggled to stand. "Not even you believe that…Lightborn."

Ethan's eyes then lighted on the shining stone that Tara was holding in her hand – the one she was waving at Klax scrumptiously as he kept the Greycloak distracted.

"It is fitting that you should die with your precious savior," he said, creeping forward with Ethan still in his grip. "Do you not understand it by now? Your kind was not chosen. You are a blip in history. A stain on this realm. And if you fight us, you will lose."

"I…told ya," Tara wheezed as she steadily rose to her feet. "Maybe we can't beat ya, but we can run away real good. Us hybrids…we've had to…get good at it…"

Ethan could hear the sorrow stuck in her throat that spoke of some unknown history here – some ancient hatred this 'Lightborn' and his Order must have for her kind…but he also saw the eyes of her teammates all meet his, desperately trying to get him to understand their plan.

Her fingers twitched on the Teleport Stone. And Ethan needed no further instruction.

He threw back his head with a roar that made the trees themselves shudder, and as Artorious turned to close his throat, Fauna managed to pull off a barrage of spectral missiles that sent the warrior into a defensive stance, letting go of Ethan just as the paralysis took hold.

"T-that's for my staff!" Fauna squeaked.

Ethan then made a beeline for the stone as the other hybrids touched it and instantly evaporated from sight, their bodies flying to whatever strange environ they must call home, far away from this place.

See ya , Arty! Ethan shrieked back at the dismayed face of the Greycloak. He liked to think that, even if the old bloke didn't speak bird, he could at least understand the sneering grin the dark bird was shooting his way.

"Run, fly, jump, or swim, Darkseed – I will find you."

He then heard something that gave him pause, just before his claws touched the tip of the sapphire stone and he rocketed away with his newfound allies.

"…you were a failure in your last life," Artorious' fading voice told him. "And you'll fail in this one, too."
 
Chapter 11: Remorse is for [P**sies]
Discord

The light of a flickering bonfire roused Ethan from his rather comfy slumber. Beneath – cold rock caressed his bulk.

So…feathery…his thoughts meandered. Like a fluffed-up pillow…a pillow with wings…

…with…huh?


Ethan bolted awake, still firmly attached to his new birdy form. He blinked his sharp eyes and inspected his wings – still strong and supple despite the one-armed swordsman's grip.

Bastard almost killed me twice, he groaned in his own thready head.

He then faintly picked out the voices that were chittering around him, and felt the warmth of a fire caress his still-bloody feathers.

"He's up!"

He knew that voice. Bolting upright, Ethan gazed upon the three hybrids that had come to his aid. The spunky catgirl – Tara, the ditsy rabbitgirl – Fauna, and the gruff wolfman, Klax. The three of them were sitting around a bonfire atop a craggy mountain – a silent wind roaring gently through spires of rock that rose all around them.

They eyed Ethan like three pilgrims eyeing an object of religious significance to their cult.

Trust me, you don't know how right you are…

Ethan felt a pang of relief travel through his new dark form. It was a comfort to know that the sassy Sys was still there, just as disdainful as ever.

"C-Careful," the rabbitgirl squeaked. "We don't know what might…you know."

The girl had said this as Tara knelt down beside him, her eyes trailing all over his form and settling on the single crimson eyeball that stared back at her, unblinking.

A sly, toothy smile spread across her face.

"We hit the jackpot!" she cried. "You can possess monsters, can't ya? That's your Darkseed ability."

*Well, yeah…*Ethan stuttered, attempting to nod his bird-host's head in agreement as best he could. I think I demonstrated it quite clearly…

"That much…is already known," Klac said as he got up from beside their bonfire and straightened his back. Ethan could see that his wounds had been bandaged.

"What we need to do now, is to tell him exactly why he's here."

The eyes of the wolfman found Ethan's, his Lycan features framed by the bright flame of their fire.

"Because you don't know, do you?"

Ethan had his guesses. He'd at first assumed he'd simply been brought to his world as another Isekai'd shlub, here to increase his stats until he got as OP as possible (which he'd still be doing, thank you very much, Mr wolfman). Still, in their flight from the human militia that had been intent on flaying them all alive, it had suddenly occurred to Ethan that these hybrid creatures clearly saw him as some sort of hero figure…

What did that old bastard call me? Their 'savior'…

So, he nodded his new form's head, much to the dismay of the prodding Tara.

"Gods have a sense of humor, even Him," she said as she poked at Ethan's wings, intent perhaps on finding some secret to his powers. "Looks like you were right, Klax. We're gonna have to fill him in."

The wolfman then nodded to Fauna, who closed her eyes and bent down next to Ethan, rubbing her hands together and kicking up some pretty radiant sparks.

Then one hand reached to caress his eye.

H-hold on, miss rabbit! he pleaded in his mind, his form bobbing away from her touch. Not that I'm doubting your abilities, but it didn't look like you had the best control over your magic before…

"Don't worry, Darkseed," Tara grinned next to him, showing her pearl-white fangs. "Fauna might be a Wildglance, but even she can't fuck up this spell."

Ethan buckled, his wings stretching out in panic. But the rabbit girl seemed strangely serene in this moment. Her pale, buxom breasts pressed against his beak as her hand finally made contact with the stem of his hatty body. And as she closed her eyes, he felt power rush through him.

…at least, I think that's power…

SPECIAL Skill Transfer: Complete!

New (Passive Skill) learned: Universal Communication


The rabbitgirl then moved away and flashed him a blissful smile. He looked around him at the hybrids, watching their expectant faces.

"What are you all waiting for? A pat on the back for saving me? Afraid I'm kinda handless at the moment…"

Ethan stopped as he realized that the voice that had just emanated from the beak of his raven host didn't belong to a stranger. It was his voice.

"Holy shit!" he yelped. "I – I can talk! And…damn. So that's what I sound like."

It was his old, deep, bassy voice that had earned him more than a few strange looks in life. He cringed as he heard it, almost wanting to shove it away and let the rabbitgirl take back her gift.

But when he then looked up at the hybrids around him, he saw nothing but complete adulation.

"Ha, ha!" Tara screamed, rubbing her face in Fauna's breasts. "It's him! It's really him!"

"I-um-yes. But – please be careful Ta-"

The catgirl lifted her compatriot into the air and squeezed her with force totally unbecoming to her thin, lithe form. "The Darkseed's back, baby! Run and tell them all the way from the Ashpeaks to Grenbelm, from Azar's Isle to the goddamn spires of Caer Lucent! WE GOT HIM!"

"TARA!" Fauna screamed. "I'm gonna break!"

The catgirl dropped her friend abruptly before this became a very different kind of story.

"First things first," Klax then interjected. "Darkseed, welcome. I'm Klax – Lycrae monk. That bundle of bloody joy over there is Tara the Minxit rogue, who is currently squeezing Fauna the Hopla Wildglance to death. We are honored to be the first of our kind to meet you."

The 'Minxit' dropped her friend and followed the monk's lead in a bow, so low and with such grace that Ethan would be getting the vapors if he were still a mortal man…

"Eh, thanks?" he said. "But I'm still a little confused here. I'm guessing me being the Darkseed is a big deal to you furri – I mean – hybrids. But I'm guessing it's also a big deal to those humans back in that forest. Particularly that old, crippled charmer with the dead eyes and broken sword."

The hybrids shared a knowing look, and then Fauna began nodding incessantly, her fluffy feet practically hopping with excitement of their own accord.

"Should we tell him now, Klax? Hm? Can we?"

The venerable old dog hunched his shoulders.

"It's…a long story," he sighed. "If Gax was with us, he'd be the one to tell you it all from the beginning. But, yeah, you're important, alright. In fact, you might be our last hope at finding a place in this world."

The three hybrids grew solemn at those words. Ethan got the impression this mission had been something that they'd been following for their whole lives.

"Let's show it to him instead!" Tara shouted, her sudden tenacity sending the flames flickering into the night. "What are we waiting for?"

The other two shared an incredulous look before smirking down at Ethan.

"Hey," he chirped at them. "I don't mind what you guys do. Just so long as I've got time to buff myself up. Ethan Hawke ain't one to back down from a fight. And I think I've found my big boss in this world."

"Ethan…" Fauna whispered. "The name of the Darkseed..."

"Sounds…human," Tara murmured, eyeing her savior with some suspicion. He met the stare with a sigh.

Guess I gotta come clean, eh, Sys?

Oh? Here I was thinking you were a compulsive liar, too.

Congratulations! You have [surprised] your System!


"Alright," Ethan then said aloud. "I don't know what you're expecting from your Darkseed, but I have a little confession to make…"

He told them everything (minus how he died – no need to cloud these fine feline's impression of their hero). He let them know how he'd been occupying his time in their world, and how he'd learned about his abilities and exactly how they could be employed to kick ass.

When he finished, they sat back, amazed, and looked on him with even more shock than they'd already harbored in their fanged faces.

"The Darkseed…has a human's soul," Tara whispered. Then, with a little catty chuckle: "Well…seems like even Gods have a fair sense of irony."

"That – that is no coincidence!" Fauna yipped. "It must be why the Lightborn's blade broke as he attacked him!"

"…yes," the wolfman agreed. "This is…most unusual. But the only question that matters now, is how the Darkseed himself feels about his task."

Ethan glared at them all as the fire began to fizzle away. In the distant skies, a cry of vultures pierced the air. Likely they were seeing their strange black cousin chatting with the hybrid creatures below and wondering just what the hell was going on.

And they weren't the only ones.

"Question?" Ethan asked.

"If you come with us, you will have to kill," The wolfman said. "This is not outside your realm of expertise, of course, but you will have to kill many of your own kind. Many more than you have already slain will die by the hands of those you choose to inhabit, Darkseed Ethan. Our mission was to find you and bring you to our base of operations in these mountains, it is true. But we will not force a sentient being to turn against its own kind."

Tara double blinked at her leader. "Uh…we won't?"

"No," Fauna agreed. "It wouldn't be right. Not after what we've been through. Could you really turn against your own species? Darkseed Ethan was – well still technically is – a human, after all."

Klax turned to him again and leveled his gaze, making it clear that what he said was perfectly true.

"If you wish to follow us," he said. "Know that you shall have to fight against your own. You shall have to leave your humanity behind, if you would know your place in this new realm of Argwyl. I ask you now, Darkseed Ethan, can you forsake the being you were?"

All of them stared at the recently hatted bird, passing over its dead eyes to the single one that blinked back at them like they'd just asked him the answer to a basic arithmetic question.

When he answered, his Dark Raven host gave a little contorted chuckle that could send a shiver down even the most resilient paladin's spine.

"I know we just met, but all this madness recently got me thinking that I never was cut out for human life," Ethan replied. "You're asking me if I feel remorse for killing my own species? I say they never treated me with any more dignity than a shit they'd stepped in. Just point me at what needs killin', and you'll have yourself a good ol' heap of corpse."

Ah yes. The Hero's speech – his valiant statement of purpose before he undertakes his quest.

How lovely.


Though Sys seemed beside itself (as usual), the hybrids' bestial grins only grew as they consumed his response like it was a moist, succulent collection of breadcrumbs.

"Then it is settled," Klax said. "We make for the Sanctum."

***

Join my Discord server to chat about all things mad, hairy, and hatty. Linked above!
 
Can't wait to see what's the deal with the Darkseed next chapter.
 
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