The feeling of her powers activating was bewitching. They sharpened her vision, deepened her hearing, made her sense the moving bodies around her, and let her mana connect to the lifeblood coursing through her veins. The vitality pumping within all the humans and monsters in her vicinity was like a drumbeat resonating deep within.

  She felt something drip from her chin.

  With a panicked shake of her head, she tried to clear the heady sensation from her dazed mind. She was baring her teeth, and saliva was dripping from them in anticipation of… something.

  So, this is Blood Frenzy. Damn, that’s scary…

  She felt the power of the feat like a thousand insects crawling under her skin. Making her hot, itchy and sensitive, the slightest touch felt like pain. Even though she recognised the feat at work, she couldn’t stop it from affecting her.

  A small part of her consciousness screamed at her to fight the empowering feeling, telling her that she was being manipulated, that the blood sticking to her was disgusting and not the delicacy her senses made it out to be. But her ravaged mind—still reeling from the shock and grief of her friends rejecting her and the catastrophic damage her body had suffered—wasn’t up to the task. The cuts and bruises from the earlier fight no longer marred her skin, but she felt stretched and worn, which was compounded by her rising fear concerning Alistair’s situation.

  She silenced the voice. And gave in.

  Before she realised what was happening, she pushed past the barrier that was Harald and barrelled straight at the closest ogre. Three steps later, she slammed into the creature like a runaway horse, her mind screaming at her to tear and rip into it with wild abandon. Thankfully, her body remembered what her mind did not, and the forms drilled into her over the last decade forced the haphazard attack into an actual manoeuvre. She swung her greatsword in a classic upward sweeping motion aimed at the ogres’ side. Nothing fancy, but her mind wasn’t up to anything else at the moment, and neither was the ogre a master combatant.

  The ogre’s piglike eyes widened in acute pain when the blade hit home with a satisfying thud as it sliced flesh and lodged into the creature’s bones. Reyleigh was dimly aware of wisps of red mist wafting from her body, and a primal stench of lifeblood accompanying it.

  It seemed like Blood Frenzy had a visual effect.

  Not up to the task of analysing her skills, her manic eyes bored into her opponent instead. The light of madness in them must have had an impact, since the ogre hesitated for a fraction of a second when it met her gaze. The opening covered for the frenzy and Reyleigh used it—albeit unknowingly—to rip her sword savagely from its temporary bone-sheath. Blood and bone exploded from the wound.

  An open-ended smile stretched her mouth all the way to the edge, when she instinctively connected Blood Manipulation to the bloody spray and willed it to cover her from head to toe. The blood stopped in midair and turned like a snake’s head toward its new master, before splashing against her body, face, and open mouth.

  The warm feeling of it on her body and the sweet taste in her mouth whipped her further into the blood-frenzy, causing her to lose every last one of her already dwindling inhibitions. With a crazed scream of glee, she batted a weak attempt at defence aside and stabbed her sword straight through the ogre’s abdomen.

  Slow.

  Was all she thought before she followed the motion of the sword and used its momentum to climb onto it. She ignored the still flailing fists—which had finally found purchase and were creating painful bruises on her sides. Barely noticing the tree-trunk like arms, she froze. The jugular vein lodged deep in the neck of the ogre was pulsing like a scared rabbit tight in front of her eyes. Her acrobatics with the sword had landed her face just a few centimetres from the mesmerising sight. Her smile turned into a nightmarish gash just before she bit down.

  Bliss!

  Absolute bliss assaulted all her senses. It was like being swaddled in a warm embrace. Shivering from delight, it felt as if she was within the womb, life-giving force suffusing her very being.

  Her mind started drifting away, the all-encompassing feeling making her lose her grip on reality. Just as she was about to fade away, one of her feats or abilities—she had no idea which one—sank its hooks into her and grounded her senses. Her mind was still foggy, but the partial clarity made her aware of her own body. It felt strange…

  Just like when she lay delirious in Harald’s arms, it was as if her perception tilted. Focusing on the unfamiliar sensation, she could suddenly feel every drop of blood that passed through her throat into and into her stomach. Somehow, the crimson liquid found its way from there into her own bloodstream and finally into her heart. The organ was beating hard and fast, pumping thick life-giving liquid with a frantic pace through her body.

  With a little bit of effort, she found that she could expand the new sense to encompass her entire body. Every vein and capillary, every organ and every muscle was just as present to her as her own skin.

  How am I feeling my own insides?

  Reyleigh was about to use her newfound clarity to stop the process and whatever was happening to her, but thought better of it when she felt energy enter her.

  It didn’t enter her body directly. It was more like the energy was using her blood as a form of transportation into another place.

  Is the energy entering my soul? Or something else…

  The sense granted to her by one of her feats—Reyleigh now guessed Blood Sense—couldn’t follow the energy farther than the valves of her heart before it suddenly lost track of it.

  Clearly, the foreign power found its destination.

  The exploration of her new sense happened in a few seconds, and Reyleigh realised that she had clung to the ogre’s neck for all of it. In the back of her mind, she was dimly aware of her throat gulping and swallowing blood by the litre.

  The energy is coming from the blood. Shit! Is this Life Absorption? Is the energy life-force?

  Finally, the last of the fog clouding her mind lifted and she recouped her normal senses.

  A man’s voice raised a blood-curdling scream. It wasn’t the start of a scream, but rather the continuation of one. Just as she was about to lift her head and release her vice like grip on the ogre, a massive form crashed into her side. She couldn’t breathe as her lungs stopped working, the air getting stuck inside her throat, forcing her to gag.

  She had no time to contemplate what she had just done, instead she forced her eyes open and found herself soaring through the air, hurtling toward the trunk of the colossal dungeon tree. A brief glimpse of a bloody ogre falling like a log towards the ground, with her sword still stuck in it, greeted her as she struggled to take in the scene before her.

  She saw Harald running toward another ogre standing beside its drained and falling comrade, a massive club in its arms at the end of a swing. Owen, with both daggers planted firmly in the last ogre’s shoulder and Purity smashing her mace into the ground for some reason. Before she could process anything else, her back met the dungeon tree with splintering force. A loud crack rang across the battlefield as the terrifying impact ripped apart her back, causing her body to rag-doll.

  Blood shot out of her mouth as she tumbled to a stop. She had no feeling in her arms, nor her legs. She tried to scream from the terrible pain, but all she could do was gurgle as more rivers of blood gushed from her mouth. Darkness was creeping in on her for the second time in as many days. She almost smiled through the agony as she lamented her terrible luck, but before she could curse her fate, she felt the stolen energy within her explode inside her. The mysterious place of power near her heart, which was guzzling life-force a few seconds ago, was now expelling the same force at an explosive rate. Another type of crackling sound accompanied her spine as it righted itself. One of her arms, which she hadn’t even felt a couple of seconds earlier, ripped a scream from her throat when it was forcefully yanked back into its socket. Bruises and scrapes were closing everywhere, as if time was reversing. Nausea wracked through her from the sickening sounds of her bones mending and resetting.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  How the fuck am I healing so fast? She thought, elation warring with hesitation.

  With the nerves in her body now functioning again, she let out a whimper and forced herself to her feet. Her newfound powers had performed a miracle, but she was not totally out of the woods yet. She could sense internal bleeding in numerous places and noticed severe bruising on her flesh where her bones had forcibly reset. No stranger to pain, she forced herself to her feet with a grimace.

  In the short time she had been lying on the forest floor, the battle had taken a turn for the worse. The ogre Owen had ambushed was propped up against the dungeon tree, a dagger protruding from its open maw, its eyes glazed over. Owen had paid dearly for the kill as he was laying at the corpses’ feet screaming in pain, his left leg twisted the wrong way at the knee. Mad with pain and his face etched in agony, he desperately fought to keep two goblins away with his remaining dagger.

  Harald was slightly better off, as he was uninjured but still battling the third ogre. His lungs were like a blacksmith’s bellows as he heaved and gasped for breath while shoving against the massive club he had caught by some miracle as the ogre swung at him. It was trying to crush him against the ground, but the hulking man wouldn’t let it. Vines sprouted around the pair, trying but failing to trip or hinder the ogre. They flowed from where Purity had smashed her mace in the ground. Clearly, her magic controlled them.

  The ogre tensed its muscles and leveraged all its strength against the much smaller man. It roared in glee when it succeeded and the precarious equilibrium shifted in its favour.

  Finally, Reyleigh—now on her feet—glanced to the side and saw Themis bleeding from several cuts as he danced around the one remaining goblin, almost tripping on the three goblin carcasses at his feet. He had clearly given as good as he got, but it wasn’t enough as he too was flagging. The last goblin was clearly some kind of leader or Unique as it was far faster and more agile than its brethren harassing Owen. If Reyleigh didn’t make a move, the last monsters would win. She could see it. All three fronts were losing, and there was still worse to come. Reyleigh felt more blood.

  Purity felt something, too. She snapped her head up from where her mace was lodged and sniffed the air. Like Reyleigh, she had sensed them—or smelled them—and without looking back; she ran away from the battle towards where the ogres and goblins had come from. She didn’t even look back at her comrades as she disappeared around the corner of the massive tree. Reyleigh could see Harald’s face drop when he saw the stalwart Tender disappear, but she didn’t have time to reassure him and instead she broke into a stumbling run. Purity’s vines were still grappling the ogre Harald fought, and even though he was losing the contest of strength, he would have to hold on a little longer. Owen was nearest to Reyleigh, and in a much worse position.

  Prodding a prodded a new but simultaneously familiar part of her mind, Reyleigh activated her only mana-based skill; Charge. Bones and flesh complained at the rough treatment, but held together, as she shot forward a dozen steps in one.

  As the skill ended, Reyleigh was halfway toward Owen, dimly aware that her sword was still lodged in the abdomen of the ogre she had drained. She burned with embarrassment, even in the harrowing circumstances. Losing one’s weapon was an unforgivable offence in battle. Without a weapon, she would be forced to fight with her body instead.

  This is going to hurt

  Crouching slightly, her Charge skill activated again. There were many famous stories that featured unorthodox uses of the Charge skill, and one of the most popular ones utilised the curious way it related to body-mass. In the instant the skill activated, she balled herself up as much as she could from her crouched position, trying to resemble a cannon ball. The earth beneath her feet shifted, and with a painful crash, she impacted the much smaller goblin just as it was about to score another hit on Owen’s downed form. A sickening thud reverberated through her battered body, caused by the monster now flying through the air like a puppet with its strings cut.

  Too bad I can’t do that with anything near my size. Also, I can’t believe it actually worked!

  While rejoicing, a surge of energy entered her, but before she could react to the strange sensation, another goblin engaged.

  Even though it worked, the battering manoeuvre had cost her, as several scrapes and bruises joined her collection from the massive impact. She could also feel her muscles screaming at her, the cost of the Charge skill becoming more apparent by the second. Clenching her jaw, she fought against the deteriorating state of her body and focused on her new opponent.

  The goblin had a dirty spear in one hand and a small wooden shield decorated with the skulls of animals in the other. If Reyleigh hadn’t lost her greatsword, she would have made quick work of the much smaller opponent by leveraging her weapon’s reach against it, coupled with her superior body mass. Now, however, she had no choice but to engage in hand-to-hand combat against an opponent wielding superior weaponry. The spear looked intentionally smeared in a thick liquid; the tip teeming with disease and filth. She had to avoid being scraped by the thing.

  Who knows what that this is infected with?

  The goblin made the first move while Reyleigh kept trying to find an opening. The small creature displayed some semblance of skill as it used its shield expertly to hide its body while it darted the spear at her from the side. Only a small part of the goblin was out in the open and Reyleigh couldn’t help but marvel at the discrepancy between the creature’s appearance and the actual skill it displayed.

  Thankfully, the spear jab lacked discipline compared to the shield stance, allowing Reyleigh to easily sidestep the spear. As her body pirouetted to the side, she closed the distance toward the goblin’s non-shield flank. Using her size against it, she turned the momentum into a grapple, her arm darting out and ensnaring the small skull in the crook of her elbow. The manoeuvre was decidedly dangerous and would leave her open to the now flailing spear, however; she was not going to let it flail around for long. With a tremendous surge of strength, she twisted her torso as sharply and decisively as she could. Trained in hand-to-hand combat for years, she was no amateur even compared to those few who chose to forgo weapons altogether. Her strength and training served her well yet again, a sharp crack vibrating against her elbow as the goblin’s neck snapped.

  Again, energy seeped into her very being, and for the second time, she ignored it.

  Heaving and trying to push air into her lungs, she turned toward Owen. He had managed to limp into a half standing position and was leaning against the tree sporting a few new bruises.

  “Help Harald!” Owen shouted towards her as he pointed to where the big man was fighting.

  “I will!” Reyleigh shouted back. “Stay here. I’ll come get you, ok?”

  “I’ll manage Ray. Just go!” Owen franticly shouted.

  As she turned around, she saw that the fight had progressed, which led to the now dismal state of Harald a few meters away. The arm usually holding his shield was broken and hanging limply against his body. Sweat slicked his hair and covered his face, which was marred in an expression of terrible agony as he threw his body away from a massive club descending upon him. It wasn’t the first time he had dodged the thing, either. Reyleigh could see several places where the club had dug massive grooves into the earth from its earlier impacts.

  He was keeping death at bay for the moment, but it was a losing battle, as the ogre seemed inexhaustible and unwilling to let its prey escape. Its dead comrades littering the ground were no deterrent.

  Reyleigh forced her legs to move, desperation fuelling her. She could tell that she had another use of Charge left in her, even though it would hurt her body even more. Also, she hadn’t lost control from the blood and carnage around her again either, which was a tremendous relief. She pressed the memory of her berserker-state to the back of her mind—or tried to.

  The warm blood flowing down her throat. The bliss accompanying the power filling her—

  Ripping her mind away from the intoxicating memories, she forced her tired mind to focus on the task at hand. Her body wouldn’t hold together for more than a single Charge, and she had to make it count.

  First, she needed a weapon. Her greatsword was still stuck in the ogre on the other side of the field. Frantically, she cast about for a substitute. The short swords and spears of the goblins were too different from her usual weaponry to be of any use. She’d rather use her hands and feet if she couldn’t find anything else. Scanning the vicinity, her eyes stopped on a crude club one of the ogres had wielded. She had no idea how it had ended up so far from any of the bodies, but she wasn’t complaining. The club was lying between her, and the ogre Harald was fighting. The pair had moved during their fight as Harald desperately tried to keep as much distance as he could between them. Even though his panic, he was deliberately trying to turn it so that it had its back to her. She couldn’t help being impressed.

  Making her decision she activated Charge. With the now familiar warping sensation, she sped up to unimaginable speeds and soon found herself standing over the crude club. Straining her muscles, she lifted the massive thing. To her surprise, it almost shot toward her as she overcompensated for its perceived weight. She didn’t have time to analyse if it was her newfound strength or a trick of the club that made it lighter than she thought before she turned toward the last remaining ogre.

  Exhausted and empty from the last Charge she threw caution to the wind and lifted the club over her head in an act of pure brutal force. She had never trained with blunt weapons, but she knew she had the strength to crush the ogre as long as she could hit it. Summoning the last of her reserves, she ran toward the fighting duo.