The world, from Seraphina's new, ground-level perspective, was a shimmering, muted tapestry of greens and browns. Now a translucent, amethyst-tinged pool of viscous matter, she found every subtle tremor in the earth, every shifting shadow, acutely amplified. She began to experiment with her altered state, not walking, but flowing—effortlessly gliding over gnarled roots and through sodden patches that would have utterly impeded her human form. The sensation was profoundly liberating, a silent, liquid ballet through the dense, humid undergrowth. Her Awareness Level 2 hummed, a constant feed of raw data, though her visual input was now radically transformed.
She continued her fluid advance, drawn by the faint, persistent glow of the yellow exclamation mark on her internal map. The forest, still steeped in profound darkness, felt less threatening now that she could simply melt into the gloom, a formless, ephemeral entity.
Suddenly, a series of swift, agile movements registered on her heightened awareness, accompanied by the faint, distinct scent of agitated fur and something musky. She instantly arrested her liquid progress, pooling herself low, barely a ripple on the damp earth.
From the deeper shadows, a creature materialized. It was a small, primate-like monster, roughly the size of a large dog, distinguished by disproportionately long, powerful limbs and sleek, dark fur. Its eyes, luminous yellow in the dim light, glowed with an eerie, predatory intensity, confirming its perfect nocturnal vision. It moved with astonishing agility, leaping from branch to branch with effortless grace, its muscles rippling with undeniable strength. This was clearly a formidable threat, a hunter in its own right, perhaps drawn by her lingering presence or the recent disturbance.
The primate-like monster paused, its head cocked, sniffing the air. Its glowing yellow eyes meticulously swept the area, momentarily passing over the very spot where Seraphina lay camouflaged as a shimmering puddle. It did not appear to have detected her yet.
The primate-like monster, utterly oblivious to the intelligent, amethyst-tinged pool of slime concealed mere feet away, continued its wary scan of the immediate vicinity. Seraphina's thoughts raced, sharp and cold. Her Awareness Level 2 meticulously fed her every pertinent detail: the creature's impressive Agility, its raw Strength, and critically, its luminous eyes that confirmed its inherent night vision.
Consuming this primate, she mused, would yield a substantial boost, the Gluttony trait stirring with a nascent, insatiable hunger within her. Not only would it provide invaluable stat points, but the prospect of acquiring night vision was profoundly appealing in this perpetually shadowed forest. It was a perfect complement to her evolving "Agile Apex Predator" archetype.
However, a stark dose of reality swiftly followed: she remained at Level 1, still possessing no dedicated offensive capabilities beyond her monstrous bite and her recently acquired Absorption skill. Her Defense, at a paltry 3, remained abysmal. Engaging this creature directly, especially in her current vulnerable slime form, would be an act of suicidal folly. She had to be cunning.
The primate-like monster maintained its vigilance, its yellow eyes meticulously sweeping the gloom. Seraphina, a conscious pool of amorphous matter, desperately needed a strategy that capitalized on her unique new state while meticulously avoiding any direct, frontal confrontation.
The primate-like monster twitched its ears, its luminous yellow eyes still meticulously scanning, its small, intelligent head cocked as it attempted to pinpoint the elusive disturbance. Seraphina, a shimmering amethyst pool on the forest floor, remained utterly motionless. Her sharp intellect, her highest stat, was already meticulously constructing a plan.
She understood that her slime form offered an extraordinary form of defense. Her body was fundamentally liquid, rendering her exceptionally difficult to harm with blunt force or even piercing attacks—a blade would simply pass through her, leaving only a momentary ripple. This represented a colossal advantage. However, the System's chilling warning about her Monster Core being more exposed in this state resonated with stark clarity. A direct, critical strike to her core could signify instant obliteration. Direct confrontation, even with her fluid form, was unequivocally out of the question.
Then, a chillingly brilliant thought solidified in her mind. Surely, this creature must eventually seek water.
She wasn't the precise hue of clear water in her current slime form; the amethyst tint was too distinct to allow for perfect mimicry of the stream's transparency. But the stream itself flowed into deeper, shadowed pools, areas where the ambient light barely penetrated. She could submerge herself, camouflaging her presence within the natural darkness of the depths, and patiently wait. Wait for the primate's primal thirst to override its inherent caution.
It was a classic, brutal ambush. She would remain perfectly concealed, meticulously conserving her limited energy, and allow the environment to become her unwitting accomplice. When the unsuspecting beast approached for a drink, she would strike—not with brute force, but with the suffocating, inescapable embrace of her liquid form, leveraging her newfound Water Resistance and the grim, terrifying potential of her Gluttony trait. This would not be a fair fight; it would be a hunter's meticulously set trap, and Seraphina, the nascent apex predator, was poised to spring it.
Seraphina waited, a shimmering amethyst presence at the bottom of the shadowy pool. Minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity, each one demanding absolute stillness and unwavering focus. Her Awareness Level 2 strained, meticulously picking up every subtle tremor in the earth, every faint whisper carried on the night air. The primate, still lurking nearby, was proving far more cautious than she had anticipated.
It was then that a chilling realization, entirely unbeknownst to Seraphina, began to unfold. The primate, its head still cocked, wasn't merely sensing random forest noises; it was detecting something far more primal, more disturbing. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of raw bloodlust was subtly seeping into the air around the stream, an insidious aura of pure, predatory intent. It emanated, unmistakably, from her. Unbeknownst to Seraphina, her agonizing transformation, the brutal consumption of the slime, and the awakening of her Monster Eater class and Gluttony trait had profoundly, subtly altered her very presence. The shift had definitively begun.
This nascent, unconscious emanation of her killer instinct almost completely sabotaged her meticulously laid trap. The primate stiffened, a low, guttural growl rumbling deep in its throat, its glowing yellow eyes darting towards the water with renewed, profound suspicion. For a terrifying, drawn-out moment, it seemed poised for immediate flight. But the relentless, gnawing thirst, amplified by the humid night, ultimately proved to be its undoing. The primal, overwhelming need to drink, an instinct as ancient as life itself, finally triumphed over its heightened caution.
With a series of quick, furtive movements, the primate descended to the stream's edge, its powerful limbs tensing, poised to spring away at the slightest hint of danger. It lowered its head, lapping cautiously at the surface, its yellow eyes still sweeping the dark, expansive pool. It was close. Close enough for Seraphina to execute her plan.
Seraphina, a shimmering, amethyst pool at the bottom of the shadowy stream, watched with an intense, predatory focus. The primate, its muscular form tensed, lowered its head, cautiously lapping at the water's surface. Every fiber of Seraphina's being, every heightened sense, screamed at her to move, to strike, but she held herself in perfect, agonizing stillness.
Her quarry was undeniably faster than her, even with her recently increased Agility. A direct ambush, if detected even a fraction of a second too early, would be utterly disastrous. She required more than mere proximity; she needed a moment of absolute, unassailable vulnerability. Her entire plan hinged on a split second of dropped guard—the momentary flicker of an eyelid, the brief indulgence in the cool water's taste. That, and only that, was her window. A micro-second, a fleeting fraction of time when its superior speed would be utterly nullified by its own momentary lapse.
She waited. The humid air hummed with the soft sounds of the primate's cautious sips, the faint, rustling whispers of the forest, and the silent, burning intensity of Seraphina's concealed will. Her Monster Core pulsed with grim, cold anticipation. The moment had to be flawless.
Seraphina watched, a coiled spring of amethyst slime, as the primate once more lowered its head for a drink. This was it. Not a blink, not a moment of blissful indulgence, but something else entirely. A faint rustling sound echoed from deeper within the trees—perhaps a small, unseen animal, or merely the wind—and for a critical, fleeting split second, the primate's head snapped upward, its glowing yellow eyes darting towards the source of the subtle noise.
That was her opening.
With a sudden, violent burst of speed, Seraphina shot out of the water, a liquid projectile propelled by raw, unadulterated predatory will. Her translucent, amethyst form arced through the air with chilling precision and enveloped the primate's head. The creature shrieked, a muffled, gurgling sound of pure terror, as its entire head sank into Seraphina's fluid body.
Panic, raw and absolute, seized the primate. Its powerful, agile form thrashed wildly, desperately attempting to tear itself free. Its thick, sharp claws raked furiously at Seraphina's surface, but its efforts were futile. They passed harmlessly through her amorphous mass, grasping only at water, unable to find any purchase. Within Seraphina's engulfing body, the primate's muffled struggles grew increasingly frantic as it fought for air, slowly, inexorably drowning in her viscous form.
Seraphina, meanwhile, concentrated with fierce intensity. This was where her acquired knowledge became paramount. She could feel the primate's frantic movements, its desperate attempts to dislodge her. Her own Monster Core became a rapidly shifting, elusive target within her liquid body, constantly moving, rendering it impossible for the primate's flailing claws to land a critical, fatal blow. She had trapped it, and now, the true process of consumption began.
The primate's struggles ceased abruptly, its body going limp within Seraphina's engulfing form. With the grim precision of a seasoned predator, Seraphina began to retract the tendrils of slime that had invaded its orifices. As she pulled back, the dead creature's form was still intact, but that state would not last for long.
Seraphina, a shimmering pool of amethyst, paused before the ancient, tree-encased temple. The System, however, interjected with a warning that sent a cold, agonizing wave through her liquid form.
"Another solid question," the System conceded, a flicker of something almost like approval gracing its plain text display. "Yeah, there are a few handy skills or traits for that. Stuff like Pain Resistance, Pain Void, or Pain Nullify would do the trick. Even a minor healing skill could take the edge off the damn agony. But if I were you, if you snag a healing skill, I'd push to get it to Self-Acting Healing. The name's pretty much a giveaway, but it's one of the top-tier healing skills, a real bastard to get."
It continued, brutally extinguishing her fleeting hope with its very next statement. "But to get those kinds of skills, you're looking at taking on monsters in the fucking double or triple-digit levels."
The grim reality settled over Seraphina like a shroud. She was Level 3. Monsters with two or three digits in their levels? For now, that was completely out of her damn league. She was staring down an agonizing transformation back to human, with absolutely no immediate way to mitigate the goddamn suffering. The temple, and whatever treasures it promised, clearly demanded a price far beyond simple bravery; it demanded soul-shattering, unimaginable torment.
As if sensing Seraphina's mounting dread, the System's notifications continued, its tone shifting to something almost... regretful?
System Warning: The Bleak Truth
"Look, I'm sorry. This world and its people are cruel, and you're about to find that out first-hand. The very laws of this universe are even more brutal, you poor bastard. Good people? They're rarer than a sane politician. This isn't like those other universes you might've heard stories about, the ones with forgiving laws that favor their inhabitants. This universe doesn't give a flying fuck. If you survived what you've already been through, you can survive this. Though, consider this your heads-up: this transformation is going to tank your health, so as soon as you're able, find some medicine, a health potion, or anything to patch yourself up and get your health back."
The words hung in Seraphina's mind, a stark, unforgiving assessment of her new, fucked-up reality. Cruel. Unforgiving. And a warning that this inevitable reversion to human form wouldn't just be painful; it would drastically plummet her Health. She would emerge from the torment not only naked and utterly vulnerable but also severely injured, teetering on the damn brink of death. The desperate urgency to find healing items after she made it through the ordeal became absolutely paramount.
The crushing weight of the decision pressed down on her. Go into the temple, potentially gain crucial gear, but endure unimaginable agony and debilitating vulnerability. Stay a slime, avoid the immediate pain, but risk madness or instant, goddamn death from the World Tree's raw aura. Her high Intelligence and the System's blunt, uncompromising honesty confirmed there was no easy way out of this hell. Survival in this universe truly meant suffering, plain and simple.
Seraphina fought, her will a desperate, raw anchor against the overwhelming, agonizing process. Slowly, painstakingly, her amethyst slime form began to compress, to solidify, molding itself into a grotesque, pulsating outline of her human body.
The initial phase, the regeneration of her skeletal structure, was unnervingly painless. Bones stretched and snapped into place, reforming within the viscous mass with a chilling quietude that made her skin crawl. But that reprieve was nothing but a cruel, deceptive trick.
The excruciating, indescribable pain truly began when her vital organs started to regenerate. Her brain, reforming nerve by agonizing goddamn nerve, exploded with a symphony of pure torment. Her other organs, each one a fresh wave of soul-shattering agony, followed suit. She felt the impossible pressure, the searing heat, as her two hearts reconstructed themselves. The Monster Core—no longer a pebble, but a small, jagged crystal shard—embedded itself within one of them with a final, searing spike of agony that stole her damn breath. Her heartbeats, once a staggered echo, now hammered a powerful, relentless rhythm, like war drums thrumming deep within her chest, both alien and terrifyingly vital.
A new, peculiar sensation threaded through the torment. Because she had absorbed the Rengo, her newly forming bones felt incredibly denser, as if imbued with an unbreakable resilience, yet paradoxically, they retained a surprising lightness, promising unhindered movement. Her muscles, rebuilding fiber by agonizing fiber, solidified into a more toned and defined form, a stark contrast to her prior, softer human physique.
The pain intensified with every returning sense, every recreated sensory organ. But it was only when her tongue, her voice box, and all the intricate components of her speech apparatus finally reformed that the true, unspeakable horror found release. What escaped her lips was not a scream, but a horrifying, unholy shriek that tore through the quiet night, a sound so utterly primal and inhuman that no living soul could describe or recreate it. It was the sound of a body being violently, painfully unmade and remade, a goddamn symphony of torment that finally shattered her consciousness.
The world went black. Seraphina's newly reconstructed, naked human body lay crumpled in front of the temple—still, utterly vulnerable, and unconscious from the overwhelming agony of her rebirth.
Hours passed, marked only by the slow, inexorable crawl of the sun as it ascended above the swamp's perpetually shadowed canopy. When Seraphina's consciousness finally flickered back into existence, it was to the searing agony of her re-formed body and the blinding, unwelcome glare of goddamn daylight.
Her eyes, unaccustomed to the sudden, brutal brightness, burned and watered. She tried to push herself up, but her muscles screamed in protest, a symphony of torment that was almost as overwhelming as the transformation itself. All she could manage was to roll onto her side, her throat constricting. A guttural retch escaped her, and she vomited onto the damp earth, the bile shockingly mixed with blood. Her entire body was slick with it, not just her own, but what seemed to be the residual remnants of the transformation process, covering the ground beneath her in a sickening, reddish-black pool.
"S...stats," she croaked, her voice raw, barely audible, a pathetic rasp. The translucent screen shimmered into view, and her eyes, though still swimming from the agony, immediately fixated on the most critical number: Health: 1/24. The System had been brutally, chillingly correct. The transformation had utterly ravaged her, leaving her on the goddamn precipice of death.