A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

But such were the limits of Beam's own current understanding. Whilst able to imitate what he'd seen Dominus do, he wasn't quite able to understand how it worked. In that face of all the beasts charging together, the defence that Beam had set up crumbled, and one of the beasts made it past him.

Beam allowed it to go, knowing that his only chance was speed. He needed to deal with the third one, and quickly. It attempted to bounce in a different direction as Beam came in close, but Beam was far too quick for it. His sword found the soft flesh under its neck and he kicked it onto the pile.

He turned his attention behind him. The loose Gorebeast had already made it to the other side of the pile, and its face was buried deep in meat. It ate with a gluttony that put all the other monsters to shame. It hardly seemed to chew. It merely opened that jaw that it had to impossible angles, and allowed food to drop down its throat.

Beam sprinted towards it. The Gorebeast didn't move, it merely intended to gorge itself on instinct, as though knowing that merely through food it could dodge the threat, for it would soon be granted overwhelming strength.

Seeing it eat so quickly, Beam felt unbelievably slow. His feet seemed to sink into the ground as he ran.

"STOP!" He demanded, but the Gorebeast's soul was full of ecstasy, there was no fear for Beam's command to take advantage of. It merely continued to eat. It ate until its flesh began to swell, evidence of its transformation.

But before it could finish, Beam was upon it. He slashed at its undefended side, before the beast could move itself to safety. Beam's slice tore through its swelling flesh, leaving a deep gash.

Yet, it seemed that such wounds were irrelevant when compared with the swelling energy of the transformation. The gash closed in an instant as the creature's flesh rippled and warped, as its tail grew longer, a mace-like ball spouting off the end of it.

It doubled in height, and the claws on its front foot grew until they were the length of daggers. Its fangs lengthened until they spilt out of its mouth, unable to contain themselves within a closed jaw.

It howled in delight as it felt power rush through its body, but Beam continued to hack away, even as the transformation sped on.

The Gorebeast turned, using its newly transformed tail to send a crushing attack towards Beam. But the boy merely stepped back, and brought his sword down in a crushing blow, half-severing the newly transformed tail.

With the transformation over, the wound did not regenerate, and the beast gave a murmur of complaint, as though surprised that it could still be injured despite its new state of overwhelming strength. It bounced back for a moment, before lunging in off its hind legs, sending its monstrous front paw towards Beam's face, the lengthy claws coming within millimetres of ending his life.

Beam grew annoyed seeing it. First the Konbreakers, and now this.

Again, he was reminded of his own weaknesses. For the second time that day, his eyes blazed, demanding further potential from himself. There was the earnest practising of techniques, the experimental approach, and trying things like a cautious scientist or an alchemist.

And then there was the bold conqueror, who snatched progress for himself.

A dark aura poured out of Beam's body as that reckless desire came forth. His shadow seemed to double in size in the moonlight, as his presence bore down upon the Gorebeast.

The beast paused a second, as though a deep chill had cut right to its bones. But it was not a sensation it understood, not anymore, not now that it was evolved. It didn't realize that it was the sharp pang of instinctive danger.

Beam attacked it recklessly in his anger, mere speed, mere strength, the abandoning of all technique. His sword was loose in his hand as he sprung at the Gorebeast, all semblance of defence forgotten.

That caught the creature off guard. A creature that until now had been forced to play something that was more similar to a game of Battle than a brawl. A calculated struggle, of misdirection, of feints, of seizing the superior position.

This was the complete opposite. This was the will of beasts in the woods, those that strove for more territory, more mates, more prey. It was reckless and overwhelming, and because of what Beam set up earlier, it worked.

The Gorebeast was rooted to the spot on the defensive. It rose onto its back legs to defend Beam's savaged attack with the weaponry of its front paw. But Beam's attack didn't stop there. His recklessness did not demand that he end everything in a single stroke. Instead, his movements were similar to that of his oldest enemy – the goblin.

The Gorebeast flicked its paw outwards, trying to send Beam hurtling back. But Beam was not overly attached to his sword, not anymore. When a force was pushed forward intent on taking it away, he would allow it its will, as long as he could get closer to his enemy. only-found-at-MVLeMpYr

His sword spun upwards, high into the air, as he allowed it to fly from his grasp. But with that, he closed the distance between him and the Gorebeast, making it past the deadly front leg that formed the bulk of its defence.

The creature attempted to bite him in its panic, but Beam was in a similarly savage state. He hit it with his fist as hard as he was able.

The touch skull of the evolved Gorebeast made it feel as though his knuckle would shatter, but still, he did not let up. After that first right hand, stunning the beast, he hit it with a left, before diving in even closer and leaping up onto its back.

It recovered from its disorientation, and upon feeling the new weight on its back, it began to buck madly, squealing in dismay. Beam gripped tight on its fur all the while, as he crawled further up its back, towards its neck, about to wrap its hand around its throat.