The Hunter's Guild, a name almost everyone besides those from backwater villages had heard of since they were babies in their mothers arms. The four pronged symbol of the organization was practically seared into the hearts and minds of every man and woman under their jurisdiction. A display of their importance in the world alongside government bodies and empires of the current era.

Because without the Guild's efforts to maintain the delicate balance between mankind's ever expanding domain and exploratory efforts with the untamed forces of mother nature, things would've turned out very different for both sides of the coin that was the world a bevy of creatures ranging from ordinary men to towering monsters shared. Coexisting as one with the brave men and women of the Guild acting as mediators to ensure that neither side tipped the scales.

Defending villages from attacks by vermin monsters like the diminutive Velociprey and their occasional Drome pack leaders, putting down invasive species that occasionally cross into other locales with the potential to disrupt the ecosystem, tracking Elder Dragons, some of the most powerful monsters whose abilities bordered on the fantastical, in an effort to ensure they never crossed paths with villages and towns. These were just a few of the many things members of the Guild, colloquially known as Hunters, were tasked with upholding. Working alongside researchers to pinpoint irregularities and hidden pieces of a greater puzzle that usually pointed towards a third element completely unnoticed beforehand.

But monster related issues weren't the only thing the Guild busied themselves with. Because at the end of the day, their mission was all about balance; maintaining a peaceful coexistence with their beastial neighbors. And it wouldn't be fair to regulate the actions of monsters while turning a blind eye to the actions of their fellow man.

While monsters were indeed powerful creatures with unimaginable strength behind their impressive frames, that wasn't enough to deter the more ruthless members of the populace from attempting to hunt them down. Whether it was for sport, a rite of passage or even for the acquisition of their prized body parts, these individuals didn't even need a viable reason to engage in unsanctioned hunts. Relishing in the thrill of the fight.

The Guild only ever slew or drove away monsters when the need arose, and for good reason. Endangered species aside, messing with the ecology was the primary cause for concern; slay an apex of a locale for example, and another,  potentially destructive monster night be drawn in to take its place. Remove an important predator, and its subsequent prey species would be free to overpopulate and flood the region. The potential problems were infinite, and the Guild didn't need more unnecessary issues to deal with than the ones they already had on hand. Unidentified monsters and strange Elder Dragon migration paths to name a few.

And although some abnormalities didn't stem directly from the actions of poachers, others were indirectly fed by them, increasing in occurrence and severity with each one of these corrupt individuals left out in the wild. Individuals not even the Guild's executioners could take down.

Deviants; a special breed outside the classification of Variants of Subspecies but rather unique individuals that stood out from their respective monster families for being notably different in appearance, often sporting sturdier hides criss crossed with signs of intense battles fought in the past and most worryingly of all, a temper to rival even that of a Deviljho, being markedly aggressive and with a thirst for blood not too dissimilar to that of a mindless poacher.

While Deviants had always been a natural occurrence out in the wild, repeated hunts that ended in failure or with the loss of the target monster had led to an unprecedented increase in unprovoked attacks against travelers or even entire villages. Like how men harbored hatred for those who wronged them, monsters too would do the same. Producing such fearsome oddities like the Bloodbath Diablos and Deadeye Yian Garuga. All with an unrelenting anger for everything around them, not able to rest in peace till they laid still and lifeless on the ground due to the injuries sustained from hunter/poacher encounters that inevitably warp these innately passive creatures into bloodthirsty beings that truly bore the title of monster on their shoulders.

And out beyond the boundaries of a certain village, under a moonlit sky. Something dark flits between the trees of an overgrown forest with only faint traces of silver marking its advent, flashing glimpses of crimson feline eyes making themselves known every so often.

But for the size of the shadow cast over the forest floor as it continues leaping from trunk to trunk, the beast was impossibly silent, leaving just the faintest creak of wood behind as if continues on its way, hissing every so often with the entire forest seemingly aware of this intruder, of its sheer strength, falling silent in its wake so as not to draw its ire…but its attention was cast elsewhere, focused on the lone figure of a man draped in light clothing, his back against the moon, kneeling patiently as if in silent meditation with gloved hands holding the hilt of a longsword hanging by his back. A stance the monster was more than familiar with as it emerges from the shadows, letting loose a serpentine hiss, circling the swordsman with a wary eye cast on his weapon, barbed ashen gray fur lined with snow white patterns whose edges were sharper than steel standing on end with a large tail waving menacingly in the air above it, spiked flail armed and at the ready.

It was a Nargacuga…but not just any ordinary red glare, a Silverwind…a Deviant.

Despite the fierce stance and furious gaze of the oversized cougar with an enormous pair of wings tipped with razor sharp blades on each muscular forearm, a trained eye could easily tell that the monster was at its limit; subtle twitches and spasms in its body, deep cuts across its hide framed by mottled fur on the verge of disease, ragged breathing accompanied by thick drool leaking from the edge of its fanged maw. All telltale signs that a monster was on its last legs.

With a warning hiss and a sharp flick of its graceful body, the Flying Wyvern was quick to land the first move, putting itself at a safe distance far from the human's weapon as it launches a bevy of sharpened barbs from its tail alongside a visible distortion in the air that quickly closes the gap between the monster and its prey. Slamming into the ground without the thunderous row of an explosion, tossing up clouds of dirt and fallen leaves.

After weeks of a seemingly endless game of cat and mouse, the cat had come out on top, sniffing the air before pouncing on the spot where the man had last been seen kneeling on, swiping with one of its razor sharp wingblades to both clear the smoke and make sure nothing else laid in wait, only to find not a bloody mess but a discarded piece of cloth left behind, sheared clean off from a larger whole by the blast of lethal air. Roaring bloody murder upon realizing it had been made a fool of.

Ever the eager one to shed the blood of its human foe, this would be the last mistake the Deviant would make as the figure of the hunter falls down from above like a meteor plummeting from the sky, accompanied by the sharp shrill of metal slicing through the air, drowning out the Silverwind's deep, cat-like roar before silence returns to the forest once more after an earth shaking tremor runs its course, leaving the hunter standing atop the still body of his quarry, shoulders sagging with a weary sigh. Pointed ears drooping, keen eyes downcast, and the four fingered hand that held the sword that did the deed clenched in regret. A rare oddity for a Wyverian to become a Hunter.

Scholarly individuals with a penchant for neutrality, the Wyverian's stood apart from regular humans with their pointed ears and four fingered hands. With a lifespan far longer than that of an ordinary man and coming in sizes ranging from diminutive to immense, the peculiar race was just as much of a mystery as monsters were.

Most Hunters would rejoice upon the defeat of such an adversary, especially after a hunt that lasted weeks. But the Wyverian saw no good in such a thing, sighing as his eyes go over the Silverwind's body, spying scars, embedded arrow heads and poisoned scabs, injuries gleaned from poachers that had probably pursued this Nargacuga for its fine fur and rough wingblades. Slowly whittling it down until it could no longer feel safe at all judging by the fact that said fur had become permanently frazzled and on end, a sign of its anger and distrust.

And once it had escaped the hands of its incessant pursuers…it didn't take much for it to assume that anything that looked vaguely humanoid in appearance was an enemy. Lashing out at merchants, villagers and hunters alike. Inevitably leading to a warrant being put out by the Guild for someone to bring an end to the monster. But even for Nargacuga, and Deviants in general, this one proved to be far stronger than expected, as if it was being driven by something else to keep on fighting. It took weeks to sap the beast of its strength, clashing with the Silverwind before running with his scent masked. But even then it continued its pursuit, leaving the Wyverian hunter little time to rest and prepare between each bout with the Deviant.

The only thing that let him land the finishing blow to its exposed neck was the fact that there was nothing left to burn inside the Silverwind's diminished energy reserves, conceding the fight to earn some much needed rest…maybe that was the reason why it seemed to hold back at times…

"How dreadful…to be pushed to such lengths…rest well tortured soul…you shan't need to fear another attack while you sleep."

Paying the deceased Nargacuga his final respects, the Hunter collects himself before setting off back toward the nearby village, to hand in his report to the Guild outpost there and get some rest himself. No spoils would be gained from this. He was a Guild Knight, and his bounty lay in poachers and outlawed Hunters, not the slaying of tormented animals. Nature would have its way here; feeding new life with the corpse of the Silverwind…

But once the Wyverian was far out of sight and hearing distance, shadows lurking at the edge of the clearing begin to move, approaching the body of the Silverwind with greedy eyes locked on various parts of its body, carving knives and bottling solutions at the ready like the beaks and talons of a Revolture; vermin scum ready to profit off the body of fresh monster kills…

They would have their bounty that night, returning to their hidden camp far out near the mountains with two cart's worth of Silverwind Nargacuga material. Disassembled and ready for processing at the hands of black-hearted smiths and artisans who saw no qualms with how their resources were procured. Serving a man that might well be considered the worst of the worst, a poacher and a killer. The outlawed Hunter saw no difference between man and monster, both were game to him and his gang of like minded cronies. Having the strength to engage the Guild's fearsome Knights sent after him single handedly with a trophy room lined with the helmets of the defeated.

But his end would not come by physical means, for tonight was a special one indeed. With a Trojan Horse loaded to the brim with seemingly innocuous bits of a disassembled monster corpse. The bandit leader would remain none the wiser to the entity lurking within the flowing metals that reshaped its former hide into toughened mail. Reshaped under hammer and steel into a suit of armor that recalled the untamed fury and blistering speed of the beast that had been slain to supply its creation. Sporting a sleek compact design that, unlike other bulkier armor sets, provided the wearer with far more protection with just barely enough leftover to fashion into a weapon. Serving as a complimentary upgrade to the bandit leader’s arsenal since the man favored longswords over any other weapon.

Locking himself away in his room once his ill gotten gains had been retrieved with the rest given to his men for them to sell on the black market for a big cheque. The bandit leader immediately undresses himself, standing bare before the set of Silverwind armor with sunken eyes entranced by the heat of the forge radiating from its lustrous raven black hide, adorned with tufts of stiff Silverwind fur along the length of its loincloth and helm to give it the same sense of overwhelming ability and grace the original brought to bear upon its foes.

Unbeknownst to the gullible man however, if wasn't the heat of the blacksmith's forge he could feel permeating his very being as he begins to strap on the lightweight armor, oblivious to the spiritual presence lurking within the armor until, as he slots the headpiece firmly against his own, a piercing sensation akin to an ice cold needle breaks the calming warmth, sinking into his spine from somewhere within the armor as the world goes topsy turvy around him before witnessing the ghostly visage of a towering black creature surge up from the shadows around him, bright red eyes staring into his soul, jaws lined with shadowy razors opening wide…

Before it all goes dark…

The warmth of a mother's embrace, the cool drops of evening dew against her muzzle, the rank smell of her muddied hide after days spent taking shelter in the den, her first scuffle with those bird eyed blue creatures that were too bony to suffice for a meal, the excitement of her first kill between her jaws, the dull ache of having to leave her home for the first time, separating from her kin to live her own lifeout in the wilderness of the vast open world. These memories and more were fresh in mind, floating idly by as their bearer lies limp in a void of nothingness, guided by unseen waves to destinations unknown.

But the peaceful journey wouldn't last, now fully grown and at her prime, her new home in a chill forested region with a den fully prepared for the start of a family of her own, would come under siege by curious minute creatures that stood on their hind legs brandishing strange tools that looked dangerous, with some even launching projectiles her way.

What ticked her off however, was their smell. Unlike other creatures that always seemed to carry one distinct scent, these radiated a foul stench, of unclean bodies clad in the skin and hide of many others. And their raucous noises were painful to hear; screeching, shouting, hooting, banging with those sticks of theirs. She wanted them gone as soon as possible, her mood and even her appetite was soured, these would serve better as territorial markings than food.

No matter how many she seemed to cut down, more arrived to take her place, better armored ones with even stronger tools that escalated the prickling sensation across her hide to painful sores and searing gashes cut so thin it made the very act of moving a terrible thing to endure. But she had to, for her home, her future mate, her cubs…

By the time night fell however, the horde had overwhelmed her, driving her out while pelting her incessantly with those scorching rocks of theirs, she was fast, but they were faster. And when combined with her bulk, that meant every one of those things made their mark; singing fur, piercing hide, spreading poison, weakening her muscles, dulling her senses…running mad in the dark while being assaulted on all sides, her vision awash with hypnotic colors and blinding flashes, letting loose roar after roar, trying to get her pursuers to stop, to give up the chase.

That was her life from then on; manic pursuits by a seemingly endless amount of these small animals, leaving her little chance to rest and catch her breath. And during the few times she had to herself, all she could snag for a meal were scraps left behind by greater predators she had no fighting chance against. Forced to devour half eaten remains that were burned, putrefied, poisoned or a mix of the above.

It felt like the world had suddenly turned against her…

But the drive to survive would inevitably lead her out of that dark pit she had found herself in, wreathed in a fit of rage that seemed to burn without end alongside newfound strength that bestowed upon her abilities never thought possible, all other goals would soon fade from memory, unable to think of anything else besides tempering the ire of her rage, taking it out on anything that crossed her path, especially groups of those small two legged creatures that loved to bundle close together in weak straw dens. Losing her grace and beauty for feral ferocity and brute strength.

She was able to eat her fill once more, fend off threats without an issue. But she felt restless, maddened even. Unable to return to the peaceful routine she was beginning to forget.

The rest of it was a haze to her, she didn't know how much time had passed. She only knew she killed many living beings she considered nothing more than playthings, destroyed many homes that were as good as arranged piles of rubble. Until she would meet her match in the form of another one of those annoying two legged animals.

But he was different, smelled different…looked different from those who had come before him.

Unlike the others who wore the hides of others to protect their fragile flesh, this one wore simple threads of silk and fabric. Wielding a blade of iron rather than the bones of others. He moved with grace and speed, reminding her of her distant kin in far better times. And most curious of all; she felt no anger, fear or greed emanating from the body of this pointy eared individual.

Instead she felt sadness, pity and disgust. And the more she traded blows with him, the more she felt drawn to his presence. For the first time in a long while, something other than rage had broken through to her simplistic mind. But with the vast difference between them in terms of physiology and language barrier, neither could understand the other, fighting an evenly matched battle for weeks on end…

Until her haggard mind would make a fatal slip after catching up to her sworn adversary. Falling easily to the obvious trap laid out for her after so many sleepless nights spent pursuing him across the land.

Her body demanded blood to sate it's irritation, but at that point, her mind had had enough, closing her eyes as the glimmer of moonlight refracting upon the man's pristine blade dulls the last moment of pain she would ever feel in her long lived yet fleeting life. From there, the journey would loop once more, dulling her senses each time she relives her past life, instilling a sense of fear and isolation the more she seemed to forget what she had always wanted; a family to call her own.

But there was something else nearby experiencing the memories with her, something spiteful, exuding so much negativity it put her fur on end…but within that roiling mass of vitriol, she could also sense the same sadness she felt weighing down her heart, tempering it's anger just enough for it to remain docile.

Just before the thought of being condemned to an eternity within the cold darkness of an empty void, a subtle warmth makes itself known within the black space of her ethereal prison; a second presence, a foul one. Calling to her like a fire would a corpse-eating Hornetaur. Despite her unwillingness to approach however, an unseen force grabs her by the nape of her neck, dragging her towards the source of the disturbance. But the closer she got to the source of the disturbance, the heavier she seemed to feel, no longer a weightless entity as the burden of living flesh begins to fill her lifeless limbs once more, as if her very being was slowly slipping inside a new vessel, a familiar vessel she held no love for. Accompanied by an affirmative growl from her condemned partner who likewise felt the same about the intruder.

Unlike her however, her more voracious partner leaps forward with a snarl, followed by the loud snap of fangs gnashing together…but the presence remained, and a frustrated growl was all she needed to know that any attempts at physically removing the presence would be futile.

'Hewman…ugly…wan gone…let die…you too…go away.'

Her pleas to be left alone would remain ignored, feeling more of herself slip away from the comfort of darkness while a familiar muzzle nudges against her face, blasting her incessantly with hot air until she finally gives in, opening her eyes to a ghostly figure that held her former appearance; wild striped fur, red eyes, mottled wounds and old scars staring her down. The manifestation of the mental scarring she had been forced to bear for the last few months or so of her life.

And floating just a few feet away was a curious red ball of flickering flame with a visible core of light. The intruder, the source of the foul human presence.

A gentle rumble from somewhere deep inside it's throat was all she needed to know what her other self wanted, turning tail before heading in the opposite direction of the light, leaving her behind as soothing waves of white wash over her vision, blurring the sight of her silver furred self vanishing forever, bidding her goodbye with final flick of its barbed tail.

As she draws closer towards the rift through intangible space that bordered the worlds of both the living and dead, the soul of the recently deceased Nargacuga would soon begin to grow aware of her surroundings, feeling strength, vigor and a renewed will to live drawn from the dwindling red sphere surge within her as she feels her massive frame begin to shrink and contort, surrounded by wild red energy that inspires a smidge of fear and confusion within her, watching as her menacing forearms begin to lose muscle, wingblades retracting, paws extending into dexterous fingers, purring in wonder at the sight of midnight black claws reforming into smooth pink shells that tapered off into white. All while the thick coat of fur covering her body flakes away to reveal porcelain smooth skin with a slight yellow hue to its pale coloration,  a far cry from thick dark gray hide overlaid with scales, letting out a sad grumble from a rapidly slimming neck as her muzzle begins to retreat back into her face, forming the sleek arch of a perky nose while calcified skin softens into a pair of pink kissable lips adorned with a glossy texture.

By the time her ribs had reformed to connect to the rest of her skeletal system that needed very little changing besides compacting the overwhelming size difference, the Nargacuga could barely be called so anymore with most of her fur removed besides a cute patch adorning a drastically different crotch flanked by long, curvy legs that ended off in small feet tipped with dainty toes, all while maintaining the strength and dexterity of the formerly digitigrade limbs. Lifting them up in curiosity while running curious hands over firm calves and fattened thighs, the halfbreed soul lets loose an unfamiliar sound as her fingers grace the puckered slit between her legs, foxy eyes narrowing in surprise and arousal as her barren chest begins to balloon outward into a pair of buoyant masses tipped with painfully erect nipples.

Another spasm of that strange electrical shock from earlier sends her toppling to her knees with a yelp in front of the weakened orange flame after having sapped it of its essence entirely, the remnants of the Nargacuga's skull and vocal chords finish their transformation, accompanying the sickening sounds of snapping bone and shifting flesh with a long drawn out groan that slowly loses its bestial baritone for a sonorous melody, throwing her head back in lust as her hair elongates into a spiked mane that flows down her arched back in smooth spikes of raven black silk, topped with protrusions that recalled the keen ears of the monster she once was as eager hands move on instinct to pinch and grope at her nubile young body, collapsing onto her firm behind just as the last traces of her tail finish shrinking into a neutered tailbone, never to be used again.

Within seconds, the ghostly visage of a defeated Nargacuga had been reduced into a waifish human female in the throes of ecstasy, letting loose uncertain cries and startled gasps that hinted at her own confused mind struggling to comprehend all these strange feelings she had never felt before. Her skin was on fire, slick with salty sweat, her mind was pounding and her innards were throbbing like a beating heart. But no matter how hard she wanted to stop what she recognized as a mating display, her body seemed desperate to cleanse itself of its heat.

And with her mind going blank momentarily as the building fire within her newly altered womb explodes into a soothing wave of gentle heat, the newborn human collapses into a heap, panting heavily as the bright red glow in her eyes slowly fade into a dull indigo green, still sporting hunts of her feline descendants in the shape of serpentine irises. Her voice heavy with the husk of a woman in her prime, very deceptive when said voice came from the lips of a young lady who looked to be in her early twenties.

Not giving her a chance to rest however, the last vestiges of the ghostly red soul flicker out of existence as they funnel themselves directly into the woman's ears, filling her mind with unfamiliar scenes and ugly emotions that reminded her of her own past, wincing in pain and discomfort as the post coital bliss gives way to a bumpy mental ride through the memories of someone else in their entirety.

By the time the last scene plays of a man cowering in fear against a looming shadow after putting on that ugly hide she recognized as being made out of her own skin and bones. She was left shivering on the floor in disbelief and rage, clenching her fist at the sight of her desecrated remains being wheeled into a camp to be dumped alongside many other monsters who had the misfortune to fall into their hands.

"Monsters…each and every last one of them! Gugh?! My voice…words…I can speak their tongue?"

With the initial shock wearing off, the woman pushes herself off the floor with a bob to her bristling mane and a newfound sense of familiarity with her limbs, tripping only for a moment before placing her full weight on each leg, hopping to and fro with ease while being just as lithe and mobile as her old form was. She felt smaller but stronger. Lighter yet sturdier than ever before. It was as if she'd lost nothing in exchange for this body, clenching her fists while marveling at the muscle protruding from beneath her slender forearms. Pushing aside those dark memories while focusing on the then and now.

With the exception of her razors and barbed projectiles however, the humanized Nargacuga was beginning to take a liking to her new body. Lips spreading into a wry grin, cheeks flushed red with the effects of estrus soon returning to her loins and nips.

Until she realized she was just a soul without a body, frowning at her see-through skin that acted as a constant reminder of her current predicament, clicking her tongue while tapping her feet against the non existent floor of the white void that had long since taken her from that dark prison. Struggling to think of a way out as her eyes darted everywhere, finding nothing discernible until another ghostly flicker catches her attention; presenting a neatly arranged suit of armor complete with misshapen threads and ragged cloth. A very familiar piece now that she had acquainted herself to the newly installed archive of human knowledge within her brain.

"Those memories…that shadow…my..skin…that's it!"

It didn't take long for her to realize that the man whose memories she now bore had had his soul, his very being, removed from his body. Extracted and contained in the fiery red orb she had absorbed only moments ago.

That meant his body was vacant, up for grabs in other words. Smiling faintly upon the realization of what the armor that laid before her represented;

Her second chance at life. To live once more not as a monster but as a human, to fulfill the one goal she had wanted out of life before it all came to an abrupt halt.

And with a new brain to process her thoughts and filter them through new lenses, she already had one strong candidate in mind, one who ticked all her boxes in what she looked for in a husband; strong, diligent, understanding and most importantly; being capable enough to best her in a battle of wits and strength, running a wet tongue over lips that were midway through healing themselves of cracks and ulcers in the real world while deep set eyes widen into foxy slits, fluttering open with childish curiosity burning within indigo green eyes as she busies herself with the armor, slotting each piece into place as easily as she maintained her fur. Grunting occasionally as tighter pieces chafe against her sensitive skin, especially the strange garment she had to slide up her hips to cover her loins. The body was a symbol of one's status and in her mind, a beautiful one needn't feel afraid of others glimpsing it.

But her newly instilled humanity brought with it new feelings; embarrassment and shame, particularly towards the idea of flaunting her privates, not wanting anyone but her destined lover to see them as she gingerly slid the smooth fabric of the panties over her trembling snatch.

Suited up and ready to go as durable fishnets composed of toughened strands of fur hung taut over her supple belly and tantalizing breasts, the human had truly distanced herself from her past, keeping it close at heart but no longer wishing to remain adhered to it, placing a hand over her chest as the white void begins to flicker and die away, steadily approaching as tile after tile fades to black, unsettling as it was, the new human simply braces herself for its arrival.

Until a growl from behind catches her attention, turning to find her alter ego standing still in an idle position, tail wagging lazily through the air behind it.

"I thought you were gonna already…come to say farewell?"

Even though she was responding to simple whines and guttural mewing, she still seemed to understand what the Silverwind was saying as it responded to the affirmative before asking a question of its own. Something her new identity was sorely lacking in.

"Ahh that's right…my name…"

But before she could continue, the last remaining lit square within the empty realm blacks out, drowning the world in silence and putting an abrupt end to the conversation…

"G-Get away from me you shit! You're not real! Not real!"

Falling over onto his ass after a fit of delirium and flailing arms, the shell shocked leader of the bandits soon falls quiet as his rolling head comes to a stop, lying slack and trailing spit and foam down his chest before lying completely still with not even a twitch to be seen in his fingers.

That was when the strange happenings would begin to occur; starting with the jagged, silverstripe armor adorning the man's body as threads unwound themselves, tempered steel and molded hide melt away and the pale tufts of Silverwind Nargacuga especially prominent around the headpiece losing their metallic luster, reverting into the ordinary raven blues signature to the species. Crushing and squeezing the mortal flesh beneath in impossible ways as the sharp bulky mass of armor begins to give way to sleek curves and softer edges, with smooth hairless flesh peering through the gaps far removed from that of the ruthless individual previously contained within.

Unbound threads reshape themselves into criss crossed fishnets, unnecessary mass sheds itself for greater mobility, oily brown hair fuses with dead fur into a long spiked mane of shining black and a tattered loincloth disintegrates just in time to reveal the sight of a man's pecker fighting against animate cloth, bouncing and twitching like a snake resisting an attack, but ultimately, its defenses break as a tendril finds purchase in its sagging skin, pulling hard to give its brethren an opportunity to land their attacks; repurposing the rough hide that once housed testicles into the smooth exterior of a fleshy labia, coaxing useless organs up into the warm slit beneath before finding them a new home between a freshly formed womb, popping out of a spasming pussy just in time for what was left of the man's rough hewn face to distort midway through an orgasm, throwing it back in short, lifeless jerks as they slowly finish their transformation into the face of an exotic woman from another land, soft waifish sighs of ecstasy leaking from perfectly kissable lips, keen eyes struggling to focus before a sudden moan escapes her, reacting to the sudden inversion of her sex as the flaccid dick hanging between her legs shoots back up inside of her, leaving nothing but a tiny nub of sensitive nerves atop her brand new vagina that wastes no time in firing up its inner workings, releasing a strong jet of transparent fluids that stains the cobblestone beneath her with a wet splat, sighing in joy as light returns to her empty eyes.

At this point, the bandit leader was no more. Erased both physically and spiritually as the last vestiges of his presence fade under a burgeoning growth of mass drawn from chiseled pecs with ripe pink nipples leading the charge until a firm and healthy pair of breasts sat atop the new woman's chest, rising and falling as deep breaths fill her lungs, the new resident within clearly eager to feel the warmth of life once more as dexterous fingers trace the contours of hips that were perfect for bearing children with, long curvy legs that held just as much muscle as the buoyant fat that adorned her thighs and ass, a slim neckline flanked by small, rounded shoulders and finally, the pudgy cheeks on her face as she basks in all the sensations that pricked her new form, a look of relief and excitement clear on her face.

But before she could think of what to do next, the door to her room begins to rattle on its hinges under a barrage of angry pounding and panicked yelling. No doubt belonging to the thugs working under the man she had just taken over. Interrupting what should've been a momentous occasion for her with incessant banging and shouts that deafened her poor ears.

"Oi! Boss?! You alright in there?!"

Clicking her tongue in annoyance while rising to her feet, the reborn Nargacuga begins looking around the room for an exit point besides the door the bandits were already beginning to tear down with their weapons. But besides small cutouts in the ceiling for ventilation, it seemed she had only one option; brute force.

Picking up the longsword lying discarded next to the empty armor stand and inspecting it with a keen eye, the nameless woman unsheathes the blade with a subtle frown on her face, recognizing the scales and tempered talon used to forge the weapon as her own. In a twisted way, the wingblades she held dearly had remained by her side, ready for use in this new form of hers.

And use it would soon see as the Nargalady lets loose a blood curdling scream before leaping through the weakened door, spearing both man and metal in one thrust as the humans pained scream does away in a gurgle of blood before moving on to the next, doing away with a rat like face in one sidewards swipe before bisecting a third with sheer strength alone, carving out a huge chunk of stone in the flooring that would, without context, leave people assuming a monster had done the deed.

And they'd be correct to assume such…

By the time she felt the cooling embrace of the midnight air right outside the underground hideout as she silently steps out of the front gate covered from head to toe in blood and gore, most of the inhabitants had been wiped out, and those who were lucky enough to stay out of the carnage their leader-turned-femme fatale wrought would remain blissfully unaware in their sleep, awakening the next morning to a bloodbath.

But with her bloodlust temporarily sated and the freedom to live as she saw fit guaranteed, the dirtied swordswoman returns her bloodsoaked blade to its sheathe, sighing before heading off into the night. Her body was sullied with the blood of others, and like in her previous life, the best way to clean such filth off was with a good, proper bath in a body of water big enough to support her.

Come morning she would begin her search for her fated man, but for now, she needed to take a bath and maybe catch a good night's sleep up in the trees.

"And if memory serves right…there should be..a lake…just a little bit further down…here…"

Following her instincts and the vague memories of her host's mind, she heads off into the dark forest, happy and content. Eager to start this second wind of hers with a peppy tune to her step.

It had been about a week or so since he'd dealt the killing blow to the Deviant Nargacuga, but after making his return to the local village and reporting his kill to the Guild branch, Bija had been plagued by endless fanfare and praises by the adoring public, thanking him for ridding them of such a fearsome threat despite his obvious reservations about taking credit for the deed.

He knew it was a good thing, but what he saw as an innocent animal robbed of its life because illegal hunts had forced its hand in a desperate plea to live was nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster capable of wiping out entire villages worth of people in the blink of an eye, simply because it could.

'And with such traumatizing memories and emotional scarring…how could they not?'

While he was still a living being that needed to eat and sleep just like any other, taking incredible amounts of money for such deeds irked him the wrong way despite knowing the import of his task; to put down these suffering creatures before they wrought their pain onto others.

In the midst of his thoughts however, the troubled Wyverian knight notices something off with a member of the crowd rushing past and around him. He'd been getting this feeling for awhile now, starting a few days ago following rumors of an entire camp of bandits and illegal hunters being wiped off the face of the earth.

At first, he had assumed it to be a displaced thug looking to rob him, but after glimpsing a brief sight of his stalker, he knew then that she meant no harm; a waifish human female clad in the signature clothes and armor of a little known tribe the Guild had made contact with years ago following their first ever encounter with the Flying Wyverns that dominated the darkness.

And just like them, she seemed to be a skilled tracker and an equally stealthy individual, disappearing and appearing at random, always at the same distance apart, never losing sight of him.

"As beautiful and graceful as the red glare dancing in the dark…I do hope she comes clean soon on what she has in mind."

Heading on down the street towards the marketplace, the presence fades once more as Bija rounds the corner into a herbal store, unaware of the woman appearing atop the rafters with flushed cheeks and indigo eyes glowing with a blood red aura of lust as she keeps watch over his every move, fawning over the words she had heard him say, constantly replaying it in her mind.

After some pain staking footwork and awkward conversations, tracking down the silver haired man with pointy ears had finally paid off. She had plans to come clean with her feelings, but unlike a Nargacuga, love between a man and a woman on the human side of things was a complex mess she couldn't seem to wrap her head around.

'He called me beautiful~ and graceful to boot…I might just have to make my move tonight!'

Struggling to gather her nerves for a face to face meeting and failing to do so would be a thing of the past, for days now she was unsure if Bija felt the same way about her, wondering if she was creeping him out. But after hearing that blatant praise for her coming from his own mouth, she knew tonight was do or die.

'Humans are so strange…they can fight without batting an eye but when it comes to sex, there's all these annoying hurdles to work around…Mmngg!'

Although she was starting to wonder if slipping in on him while he slept with nothing on her person was a better idea than knocking on his door and asking if he'd be down for a talk like a few other kind humans had told her to do so when confessing to someone she loved.

Because there wasn't really anything wrong with brute force if no one was getting hurt, now was there?

THE END