Chapter 27: The Young Fox Bullied by the Cat

Is that… a large cat?

“What is that?” Venigo exclaimed in shock.

He couldn’t help but be surprised, for in his memory, this world had no such creature.

An anomaly?

No, the effects of magic were never as simple as they appeared. Everything you did, no matter how small, changed this world.

The gigantic crystal hundreds of meters away was itself a monumental mutation.

“An alchemical creature, born of magic and alchemy,” Sophie hazarded.

“Most likely. This cat… damn it, I like cats, but it clearly doesn’t like me,” Venigo complained.

Character selection confirmed, analysis complete… Reconstruction commencing. Level 6 Hunter, construct complete!

He set the level at only 6 because Venigo needed to reserve room to assign powerful skills.

Rattlesnake Strike—a blow as cunning and deadly as a viper—was especially effective against monsters.

The moment Venigo acted, the big cat sprang away nimbly, as if startled; it seemed to sense the threat of Rattlesnake Strike the instant Venigo made his move.

Missing with the first strike didn’t faze Venigo. He drew his compound bow and loosed an arrow toward where the cat would land.

The great feline pushed off with all four feet, leaping high, using the top of a wall to vault, twisting in the air and aiming a predatory pounce at Venigo’s exposed neck from above.

A flash of cold light—Sophie leapt in front of him just in time. She had abandoned her usual greatsword for two slender blades planted before her.

With Sophie’s wrist and arm strength, those light swords moved like lightning with each thrust.

Her swordplay was relentless, not like flowing water but a dynamic rhythm, a constant beat. Not truly continuous, but the intervals were so brief, the frequency so high, that it merely appeared so.

If one must find a metaphor, perhaps it was like a torrential downpour sped up a hundredfold.

In this storm, even the nimblest cat would be drenched through. The big feline scrambled out of the rain of blades, landing five meters away on a wall, squinting back at them.

Venigo didn’t hesitate; another arrow flew from his hand.

The arrow whistled sharply. Hunting Arrow—Vital Strike!

Vital Strike infused the arrow with black magic, dealing little direct damage but causing unpredictable afflictions upon the enemy—blindness, paralysis, poisoning, silence, even petrification…

Venigo’s version of Vital Strike, manifested through his own mirror, was slightly different from the original. He understood from self-reflection that the effect depended on the balance of his power and the enemy’s resistance to magic.

If, that is, the shot landed.

But the hunter character Venigo had built was renowned for accuracy; his compound bow was enchanted for precision, he possessed the Talent for Marksmanship, and his support skill was “Focus,” a boon that greatly enhanced accuracy. His aim was already at the level of a master archer.

Although the big cat was exceptionally agile, it had just been forced back by Sophie’s swords and had barely landed on all fours, unable to dodge.

A direct hit!

A strange, multicolored mist surged from beneath the cat, engulfing it in an instant, then vanished as if it had never been.

In the brief instant the mist appeared, the cat’s movements jerked to a halt.

“Lucky—it’s ‘Slow’…” Venigo sneered, drawing his bow for another shot.

The big cat leapt again, still quick, but Sophie was just as fast.

Her twin swords sang as they struck, leaving several fresh cuts on the cat. Despite its best efforts to dodge, it was cursed; its body felt clumsy and unresponsive compared to its will.

It landed atop a wall, letting out a loud, drawn-out yowl.

“What’s that?” Venigo was startled, instinctively loosing another arrow.

The arrow flew, but was batted aside by an invisible force.

Venigo focused his right eye, activating his Eye of Insight to its fullest, and saw—

“Spirit Possession?!” Venigo froze in astonishment.

Yes, spirit possession. According to the records, it began with a ritual: offerings and supplications to gods or mighty warrior souls, inviting them to possess and empower one’s body. Some accounts described it as a form of self-hypnosis, convincing oneself that one was the vessel for a spirit or deity, thus unleashing latent power.

The method the cat used was similar. Venigo could clearly sense its soul transform in an instant.

A soul mimicry—like self-hypnosis, temporarily turning its soul into that of an ancient heroic spirit, drastically elevating its abilities.

“Tiger of the Berserk, descend.” The words, spoken in a clear human voice, came from the cat’s mouth.

“How interesting, you can even speak?” Venigo laughed, loosing another arrow.

The cat had no time to reply; even without Venigo’s arrows, Sophie’s twin swords left it barely able to defend itself.

Though Sophie excelled with a greatsword, she wielded the twin slender blades with equal expertise. Her strength, speed, and mind were exceptional—she simply preferred the straightforward power of a greatsword.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t use other weapons; she just didn’t like to. But when necessary, her skills allowed her to master any arms with ease.

The big cat was driven to desperation by the relentless assault of those twin blades. Venigo’s occasional arrows only added to its distress.

Though Venigo’s rate of fire was not high, being targeted by a marksman was a deadly threat in itself. The cat had to split its attention to track Venigo, for another curse or immobilization would spell certain death.

The feline let out an earsplitting roar—astonishing for a creature barely over a meter long. As it roared, dark red layers of mist rippled across its body, and its speed suddenly tripled.

In the blink of an eye, it appeared before Sophie, slashing viciously at her face with a paw.

Sophie, caught off guard, barely avoided being disfigured; she leaned back at the last instant, evading the blow to her face, but a long gash opened from her chest to her abdomen.

A rare blush crept across Sophie’s face. With her clothing torn, her pale skin was exposed; the cat’s strike had nearly shredded the entire front of her outfit…

Shamed and furious, Sophie unleashed terrifying force. With a clear shout, her twin blades swept upward in a fierce arc, her body spinning violently—a tornado seemed to rise from the earth to the sky.

A whirlwind of blades!

The cat howled as the cyclone consumed it, its body soon covered in wounds.

When the tempest faded, the big cat collapsed in a bloody heap. Venigo approached, handing Sophie his moonlit cloak and averting his gaze from her, fixing his eyes on the dying cat as he pressed his foot lightly upon it.

“Hey, what exactly are you?” Venigo asked curiously.

“A big rat from the sewers… My master still needs me, he won’t let you…” the cat murmured. “Reaper Cat, descend!”

Indeed, the cat’s soul seemed to shift into a new form in an instant. Venigo didn’t hesitate—he released the cat and pulled Sophie away to a safe distance.

Pitch-black flames erupted skyward, centered on the cat. Within a five-meter radius, the flagstones themselves were reduced to dust by the near-tangible black fire, vanishing in an instant.

“What powerful black flames! Demonfire? Devil’s power?” Venigo muttered in amazement. No, the demons of this world, though strong, did not possess such bizarre flames.

Damn it, I told myself not to judge this world by game logic! Venigo gave himself a light slap on the cheek as a reminder.

Sophie had already wrapped her chest in the moonlit cloak like a bandage, silent as she picked up her greatsword from the ground and rested it on her shoulder.

“Be careful,” Venigo warned.

He retreated behind Sophie, glancing back at the little house by the entrance to the sewers, where Honey was rubbing her eyes, stumbling out sleepily.

“Come give us a hand,” Venigo called with a smile.

“Ah, coming,” Honey chirped, her eyes going wide as she looked around. “Wow, what a cute cat!”

Cute? With that size—almost a leopard, its coat dull and scruffy, more like an oversized mongrel street cat—what part of it was cute in your eyes?

Not to mention the roiling black magical flames!

“Little Fox, I want this cat,” Honey declared, pointing at the big feline.

“First, let’s deal with it,” Venigo replied with a wry smile.

Without hesitation, Honey pointed at the cat—Exorcism!

As expected of a natural divine conduit, little Honey’s casual gesture unleashed a surge of divine power that nearly extinguished the magical flames enveloping the cat. Exorcism was truly a game-breaking spell; even at its lowest level, it could erase effects that even the most advanced spells struggled to counter. The black flames that neither Venigo nor Sophie dared touch were mostly dispelled by Honey's effortless intervention.

As for the curse Venigo had placed, it was nearly expired anyway—even if Honey hadn’t dispersed it, it would only have lasted another few seconds.

“Well done!” Venigo laughed, raising his bow, eyes narrowed, never taking his aim off the cat’s throat or heart.

Don’t mess with me, little kitty!