Grimhilde observed the battle from a distance. Prospero’s enchantment of fire illuminated him against the deep sapphire of the snow. Once he was above the Oose yet again, another hindleg kick saw his hooves breaking through the beasts’ outer membranes to cook their innards. Soft tissue with the consistency of rotting flesh melted and pulped, earning moans of apparent agony from the creatures.

  Fire cuts straight through them, he thought. I can feel their skin resisting me like rubber whenever I strike. This wouldn’t have been easy without Grimhilde to support me.

  A desperate flail from one of the Oose earned him a soon-to-be bruise over his flank; its tentacle swept across the snow and struck with the force of a hammer. Prospero recovered from the blow in time to avoid another aimed directly at his head, hopping back and wincing as the freezing winds made the pain that much worse.

  The two Oose he’d kicked down the hill had become little more than a bubbling black splatter by the lakeside. Only the first he’d met was putting up any more of a fight; the second, ready to accept its loss, was trying desperately to put as much space between itself and the battle as possible. Prospero continued to retreat as the first turned around, foetid sludge escaping from its rear end all the while, and charged him in a last effort to claim victory.

  I’m not even sure I want to eat these things anymore, he shuddered at the thought. I suppose it would be cruel not to, now that I’ve gone through the trouble of killing them…

  He skidded downhill and lowered his stance to avoid a swing from the beast’s bundled tentacles. Kicking both rear legs, he punctured its flank and allowed the momentum to drag a burning laceration across the length of its body. The Oose turned, lost strength, and toppled over, tumbling to the bottom of the hill with the rest of its kin.

  [Anglerbane Oose x3] Defeated

  [Oose Proficiency] + 24

  Prospero winced from the blow on his side.

  I wonder if this proficiency will overflow into the next Grade like it does whenever I consume an Elite’s essence, he thought. If that’s the case, it might be prudent to gather proficiency wherever I can find it instead of acting miserly.

  The final Oose was out of sight now, vanishing into the woods with a trail of tar-like blood in its wake. He thought about hunting it down, but just as the idea crossed his mind, the fiery enchantment dancing around his hooves faded. Figuring that he may as well not push his luck, he slid down to the waterside with Grimhilde close behind and hesitated to consume the fallen Oose, which had now melted into puddles of tar snaked with still-wriggling tentacles.

  I only need a taste, he rallied himself. Nothing more.

  He leaned his head and lapped up a small sample with his tongue. The flavour reminded him of his father’s attempts at porridge when he was a boy, not long before Luthor took over making meals for both of them after Prospero’s mother passed. Lumpy, flavourless, with just a dash of sourness like vomit lingering on the gums. He shuddered.

  [Oose Form] Unlocked! (Aptitude - Summoning)

  That’s enough of that, he spat into the snow. They don’t even have blood.

  Taking a look at the specifics, he noticed that shapeshifting into an Oose would improve his [Mind] attributes by 100%, and increase his Beasthood by 15%. While looking over the improvements to his strength, he again took notice of the [Summoning] skill, and wondered exactly how it worked.

  Skill - Summoning

  Description - Vampire-exclusive skill. Affects an individual’s ability to summon and maintain a [Vampiric Castle].

  Low-Grade Abilities - Castle Heart attunement. Creation of small rooms.

  Mid-Grade Abilities - Castle-exclusive familiar summoning. Creation of specialised rooms.

  High-Grade Abilities - More powerful summons. Creation of advanced rooms.

  A [Vampiric Castle]… like the one we saw leaving Glassoph?

  Witnessing a fortress floating among the stars led Prospero to believe that there was some powerful magic at work, but his skill set seemed to imply that creating one was an ability shared by all Vampires. Even now, he was just starting to comprehend how powerful they truly were.

  A castle of my own wouldn’t go amiss, he thought. But, I assume I’ll need a ‘Castle Core’ before I can get started, and only the Gods know where I could find something like that.

  His regeneration was already mopping up the bruise developing beneath his fur. The battle-haze fogging his mind began to clear, and for a few moments, he was allowed to enjoy the cold beauty of the lake. Above him, the oversized moon revealed that the night was far from over.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  …Onwards, then, he resolved. To the next battle.

  The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Scouring the taiga for every walk of life, Prospero experienced his fill of slaughter and feeding. The swelling Beastblood had grown to overshadow just about every last beast in the region; the wolves he’d struggled to outmanoeuvre one night prior now seemed to him like harmless whelps. Even in the relatively weak form of an Elk, he proved more than a match for the realm’s predators.

  [Canine Proficiency] + 14

  [Lupine Proficiency] + 12

  [Rodent Proficiency] + 19

  [Reptile Proficiency] + 8

  [Hoofed Ruminant Proficiency] + 4

  [Arachnid Proficiency] + 14

  [Bony Fish Proficiency] + 2

  [Molluscoid Proficiency] + 9

  He was disappointed by the lack of Elites. Keeping his location in mind was important for the sake of returning to the cave, and his ravenous hunt had erased every powerful beast in the region. When the next night came, he thought to himself - that would be the perfect time to increase his range.

  When daylight broke, he and Grimhilde were tucked safely in the dark. Prospero wasn’t tired in the least, but he was at least satisfied by the amount of blood he’d consumed. His dreams, for once, were pleasant, and went uninterrupted by third parties. He recalled his days as an innocent child, when the only thing that mattered to him was whether or not Mrs. Cuileni was going to drop off any scones at the manor.

  His reminiscing ended when Grimhilde shook him awake as soon as the sun was down, and it was out into the night yet again for the both of them. Prospero assumed the familiar form of a wolf and set off to find another Elite. His enthusiasm couldn’t quite be matched by the fairy following in his wake, who could only flap her wings so quickly.

  I’m not sure I like how easy this has become for me, Prospero thought. Perhaps once we reach somewhere more civilised, I’ll see if there isn’t a more honourable way for me to acquire proficiency.

  Guild halls, adventurers, ancient dungeons… The more he thought about visiting the Coalition realms, the more his childlike heart thumped with excitement. Travelling the Incandescence had always been something of a dream to him. Even with the caveat of bringing Luthor along, his father was strict about the matter. It was only now dawning upon Prospero as to why.

  He stopped in his tracks.

  …I can smell something.

  He could smell plenty of things in that form - some he wished he couldn’t - but one particular trail was unlike the others. It had the stench of violence. There was no other way to describe the scent; a mixture of dried blood and flecks of rotting entrails, rancid breath; the acrid sting of a beast who pissed itself often and without care. Prospero could visualise its immense size from the trail’s concentration.

  One final confrontation to test my abilities, he thought. Orlok will be more dangerous than any beast I can face. If I can’t learn to steel myself against fear, I’ll have lost the battle before it even begins.

  He set off on the heel of danger, passing by clusters of devastation; felled trees, slaughtered wolves, and great drifts in the snow where something truly massive had lumbered through the pine forest. All the while, his nose told him where to go until half an hour had passed, and the stench had grown to overflow his olfactories, until finally, the beast cut into view. Between the shadows of the brambles and the great stalwart trunks, it was difficult to spot if only for how large it was. A layer of brown fur obscured the muscle and fat beneath. Every step, though careful and deliberate, was toed with three enormous claws of brilliant ivory. From that distance, Prospero could hear the beast’s incessant sniffing clearly.

  That is… a very large bear.

  Prospero had some trouble forming the words in his mind. No - ‘large’ wasn’t quite the term for it. No amount of descriptors or qualifiers could describe just how large of a bear it was. Its size could only be represented through emotion; it was the sort of beast regaled to sleeping children to stop them from sneaking out after hours. A childlike fear given physical form. It was closer to a ‘monster’ than the Gorgon ever was.

  Mm… Perhaps there IS some merit in knowing when to avoid a fight, Prospero thought. There are plenty of weaker Elites I could hunt instead. I’ll just make myself scarce and-

  A branch snapped beneath his paw, half-hidden in the snow.

  The bear raised its head, then turned. Two beady little eyes, almost invisible beneath the matted layers of fur, would have almost seemed adorable if they weren’t attached to a beast that could have toppled trees by pure accident. In that second of silence, Prospero again saw a severe intelligence reflected in the beast’s eyes. Somehow, he could tell that it was measuring him as prey very much unlike a common wolf.

  Grimhilde, he thought. Go.

  The fairy was already placing some distance between them. Meanwhile, the bear approached with careful steps in a manner that could have been interpreted as curious, though Prospero knew better. Soon, they were face-to-face, or more appropriately, eyes-to-chin. One thousand feasts of glory and blood leaked like acid mist from the creature’s gums.

  It leaned forward to sniff with its nostrils that seemed as though they would suck Prospero in, and it was in that defenceless moment of probing when he struck, lunging forward to gouge a bloody chunk from the bear’s snout.

  A decision made out of fear? Opportunism? In either case, the option to escape had long passed him by. The bear lurched back. Its howl of pain shook Prospero to his nerves. On the return, its heft barrelled towards him; a tide of flesh. He moved to evade, but there was no line to perceive, no angle to take. The giant’s weight knocked him clean into the air, wrapping his body around a nearby tree trunk. Something within him strained and fractured.

  He bit through the pain and leapt; the bear was already on him. Its jaw sundered the bark, tore the fibers, and with unearthly ease, lifted the pine between sharpened teeth. A second later, the trunk was thrown through the air, allowing Prospero just enough time to hop over the rolling obstacle. The maw of the beast approached, portioned him between slavering molars, and clamped down as Prospero twisted his body in the air. He felt the fur on his back being ripped off.

  The blood felt warm along his flank, flowing like water. When he landed, there wasn’t time to think before the bear lunged again. Swallowing the agony right down to his gut, Prospero lowered his stance and pounced at the last minute, placing him just above the beast’s teeth where its tiny eyes and ears poked out from the labyrinth of fur. He aimed for the former, but ended up catching the latter with his bite. He ripped the appendage off, sprinted across the bear’s spine, and leapt behind it.