The ability to shift was all that saved Ambrose from the finishing blow as she shifted from the hollam form to the pantrada. The fist meant for her chin barely singed the hair on her ears as she ducked under it. Moving to a crouch, Ambrose kicked the man in the chest with her clawed paw pushing him away from her and leaving gashes across his chest. The tunic he had been wearing split as lines of red soaked into it.

  The man snarled, putting up his hands and keeping his eyes locked on her. Ambrose prowled around him, keeping low to the ground, her tails lashing in agitation, a low rowl rumbling past her lips as she kept him in her sights. She hadn’t taken a hit like that before and it had certainly taken her off guard; the damage this man could put out with his fists was unreal. Ambrose tensed, and then lunged at the man only for him to slip to the side and nearly take her head off with a fading cross. The only thing that saved her was the pantrada’s unnaturally keen instincts and reflexes. She twisted mid lunge and barely managed to evade the man’s overwhelming might with a rolling tumble. The magic coming off of the blow made her hairs stand on end as electricity surged off of his fist and toward the ground.

  Even as Ambrose corrected herself and regained her balance, the male was stepping in, fists high in his tight guard. He tested her speed with a pair of jabs, each of them blazing with heat before he ducked lower than her, rising with his fist skimming the ground. Earth surged beneath Ambrose, tossing her into the air as a stone pillar rose from the pavement and slammed into her torso. Her entire body stung from the intense blow; she barely caught herself against the face of the building as the man leapt after her, fist cocked back for another terrifying blow.

  Ambrose pushed off of the wall just in time, sending herself rocketing back toward the ground as the man’s fist cracked the face of the refinery. All around the building, support wards lit up the building still groaning under the force of his blow even as the magic meant to sustain the building struggled to survive the stress he put it under. Ambrose found herself staring in shock as the man turned to look at her, yanking his fist from the rock. She suddenly felt very out of her league.

  If this kept going the way it was, this man would surely pummel her to a pulp before the foot soldiers arrived. Making a split second decision, Ambrose shifted as the man dropped to his feet.

  By the time he landed, the Anfaunum was ready, standing in its simple cloak, its featureless mask glowing against the moonlight. The man moved at Rose with enhanced speed, yet the Anfaunum’s perception was flawless. One step to the side, and shimmer step activated. A pillar of light bursting from under the feet of the half orc while Ambrose countered with a blade of light.

  The blade strike was blocked by an arm wreathed in a light construct, but the man still hissed in pain as he stepped out of the pillar of light, his skin hissing and crackling from the heat of the counter strike and his clothes burning.

  “Clever,” he growled before advancing again, this time with more caution. The Anfaunum wove to the side, parrying jabs meant to hit the mask as well as strikes meant to cave in her ribs. Each block was timed, not fast, maximizing her nimbleness with the sense of where the next strike would come and how best to turn the blow away. The two became locked in a dance. Every powerful advance the pugilist made was pushed aside, her defense catching his blows on her construct and moving them away from her body where they could do no harm. Every counter she made was ducked or blocked as the fighter outclassed her in his speed.

  Their clashes sent sparks of wild light flying off into the night, illuminating the area as the two fighters continued their deadly trade. Swirling slashes and refined stabs created flashes of wild light. Still the man persisted, determined to beat his opponent into the ground. It was only when the sound of the approaching foot soldiers caught both of their attention that he paused, letting loose a frustrated grunt.

  The Anfaunum tried to catch him unawares, but he batted her blow aside and then cocked back a fist, charging a massive attack. The raw power of the incoming blow snapped Ambrose out of the battle trance the Anfaunum form had thrown her into and she shifted again, using the speed and light weight of the pantrada to throw herself away from the man as his fist came down toward the ground. The arcane explosion rocked the part of the city they were in, the sound of it rushing through the streets as Ambrose tumbled away, her claws shredding the cobbles as she tried to get purchase on the stone.

  When the dust cleared and the charging guards arrived, there was no sign of the half orc. Ambrose cursed inwardly, but the night captain didn’t hesitate. “Men! Into the refinery! Take any who surrender! Kill those who don’t! In the name of the King!”

  The men roared and charged in response and Ambrose loped after them, scanning the area in the hopes that she would at least catch a glimpse of where her last opponent was fleeing to. She had no luck, reaching the open doorway of the refinery just before the mass of guards to see the inside of the refinery already in trouble. The guards inside were outnumbered and several were already on the ground, dwarves or adventurers standing over them. There were some unconscious dwarves on the floor as well, but Ambrose couldn’t see many. This group was powerful.

  Ambrose sped into the building before she could be reacted to, checking one of the nearby dwarves with her shoulder and sending him flying before he could land a debilitating blow on one of the night stalkers. Rather than stopping to check on the man she shifted her weight, her personal gravity changing as she fell toward another dwarf, slamming her paws into him and launching him chest first into one of the tables, sending him toppling over the structure, which fell and tossed fine twinkling dust into the air.

  “It’s a bust! Pack and retreat,” called the cloaked figure, his voice telling Ambrose she was dealing with a man. He raised a hand from beneath his cloak, sending spidery purple fingers of lighting across the ground after her. Ambrose dropped, rolling and then kicking off of the ground to evade the spell, which was singing the stone floors, leaving sizzling black marks as it passed. The roar of the foot guards accompanied their arrival into the refinery as the battle began to turn and chaos took hold.

  —

  Lita leapt high, bringing her heel down in a deadly, rolling axe kick onto the head of the guard attacking her. The man’s helm split and he collapsed like a dropped rope, falling disjointedly to the floor. The girl looked around herself at the carnage the room had turned to in such a short time. The men of the guard just kept rushing in, trying to overwhelm the smugglers with numbers.

  Lita and her group were not novice adventurers. She was level 24, almost at her own class awakening. Both Kamden and Trevor were close to her level. Fighting with the standard city guard wasn’t out of the question. But a prolonged fight against dozens of trained men was a losing battle. “Trev! Let's get out of here!” she called, looking over at her bruiser, who was hacking away at a guard with a spear, the two of them exchanging furious blows until Trevor kicked the guard in the chest, knocking him to his back.

  Kamden cast a quick lightning element spell on the downed guard and started running for Lita too, taking the hint. The three regrouped even as other guards tried to corral them in with the other smugglers.

  “Where to?” Trev asked, looking for an exit.

  “There are three hidden doors in the back. The one in the back east corner is the one we’re going for,” Lita hissed as quietly as she could between them before turning to the nearest string of guards trying to close them in. “Break their line!” she shouted, charging the warriors.

  Some of the dwarves must have heard her cry as well, because there was a roar in answer and many of the dwarven workers charged too, pushing back at the guards and causing enough of a distraction that when Lita and her group met the wall of guards, they were too disjointed to stop her.

  Kamden blasted the one on her left, the man seizing up as his armor fed the electricity of the spell. The one ahead of her caught her heel to the face as her flying reverse spear kick landed with blinding speed, sending him spiralling back. Trevor simply trampled the guard on the right, not slowing down as all three of them ran for the exit. Their retreat was cut short as another night guard stepped from the shadows and kicked Kamden onto his back before he could respond.

  The halfling shouted as the guard set upon him with a club, batting away his wand and then beginning to beat him. Lita turned to try and help their ally, but Trev grabbed her wrist. “We have to go!” he said, pulling her away and toward the door. Lita tried to pull away, but Trevor gripped her tightly.

  “Kamden!” she called out, even as she was dragged away.

  —

  Just when things seemed like they were turning in the favor of the night guard, a woman clad in a beautiful dress swept her hand out over the room, spreading a shimmering dust into the air. “Caller! Now!” she cried. And the man who had been holding Ambrose at bay with his lightning magic turned, malevolent intent evident even from under his cowl.

  Ambrose felt in her bones that something terrible was about to happen, shifting back to the hollam, she coughed up a little blood, the wounds from the fighter still taking their toll on the form, but she held up her shield nonetheless.

  The resultant, thunderous boom that went through the room as the caster charged that powder threw Ambrose off of her hooves and into a nearby wall, her back screaming at her as she was crushed to the wall by the raw force.

  Silence rang loud in the room as she fell off of the wall, groaning. She felt dazed and her knees wobbled even as she tried to steady herself against her tower shield. Whatever had just taken place had knocked the wind from her. That explosion had likely done a lot more damage than she could recognize in the moment.

  Leaning around her shield, she took in the destruction the attack had wrought. Most of the night guard and the Dwarves were on the ground, very few of them moving. The captain and a pair of drow warriors were the only three on their feet, and they were charging the woman in the dress, having spotted her as the most dangerous target.

  The caster, who was still facing away from Ambrose leveled his hand toward the three, likely looking to even out the fight, but Ambrose lowered her head and charged with a bellow. The bellow seemed to not only bolster her, but a surge of power ran from her body and the guards moved with reinforced vigor and speed. The noise also drew the attention of the caster back to her.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  The man sent a thick bolt of electricity at her, the violet energy coursing into her body and burning some of her fur as she charged. Yet the empowered charge did not stop. She plowed through the pain and into the man, her horns not catching his body, but her head slamming into him and sending him flying into the giant vat in the center of the room with a mighty gong noise.

  Ambrose roared, fighting through her pain as she tried to stomp after the electric spell caster only to see the woman fending off the guards with quick bursts of fire that lashed and then coiled into flaming serpents that continued to strike after the spell was cast. Bursts of cold turned into slow moving phantoms of frosted mist that chased after the shadow stalker who was trying to outmaneuver the woman and get close.

  Nothing the three of them did quite overwhelmed her, and even when the captain managed to slip past a spell and try to stab the woman in the thigh, she dispersed into a flock of fluttering butterflies and darted away, reforming several feet from the captain and already aiming a spell.

  Ambrose ran for them, wanting to help. This bust had turned out poorly, but the last thing she wanted was to lose all of her allies in this fight and risk their enemies escaping.

  —

  The bang that had rocked the entire refinery left Lita and Trevor without pursuers, and as Trevor dragged her toward the far corner of the building, Lita wondered just what had happened. Was Kamden alive? Had anyone survived that?

  Her questions were cut short as Trevor found the hidden latch and yanked it, slamming his shoulder into the hidden door and charging out of it into the night air. A moment later, his momentum halted as his stomach ran into the crossguard of a sword. The guard who had been waiting outside of the door for them grimaced as Trevor impaled himself on the warrior’s weapon.

  Lita screamed in anger and disbelief as Trev let go of her hand, grabbing the wrist of the man who was staring wide-eyed at him and still holding onto the sword. Cocking back a fist, he punched the other warrior in the face. Lita lunged at the dazed guard and smashed her own fist into his face, finishing what Trevor had started as her team’s bruiser crumpled to his knees, still holding in the sword.

  Lita crouched, wanting to help him, wanting to save him, she looked through her bag, finding a potion, her emergency potion. She paused for a moment, then held it out, offering it to Trevor. If he took it, it just might save his life. The boy looked at it, then up at her, then smiled, coughing up blood as a chuckle rose in him. Holding out his hand, he pushed the potion back at her, shaking his head.

  “D-don’t think that’ll do it, Lita… You go… Run.. Get out of here,” he managed, his hand pressing to her thigh.

  “What? But- but you could- we can both get out of this!” she hissed, frustrated. The sides of her eyes burned with unbidden tears. “Just take it! Take the potion! Let me save you!”

  Trev shook his head again. Raising his hand, reaching out for her. She thought, for a moment that he was reaching to cup her cheek, that he wanted to say something sweet. Then Trevor, being Trevor, groped her breast. “One for the road,” he chuckled, blood dripping from his mouth.

  It was at that moment that Lita chose not to save him. Standing, she turned and ran, heading away from the refinery and into the castle town of Diestol, eager to put the night in her past.

  —

  Ambrose was almost close enough to barrel into the woman who had been fending off the guard when she turned, locking eyes with Ambrose past her bangs. The moment their eyes met, Ambrose faltered, she felt weak, confused. The woman in front of her was… an ally? Wasn’t she?

  “Oho… You could do some damage, couldn’t you. To trigger that spell,” the woman purred, moving over to Ambrose and slipping around her putting a hand on her shoulder. “You are mighty, a true warrior befitting my need. My magic doesn’t lie,” she continued, whispering into Ambrose’s ear.

  “Get away from her!” one of the night guards shouted, coming around Ambrose’s side and trying to hit the enchantress who danced away. Ambrose remained confused, up until she heard the charge of electricity. Turning she saw the pursuing guard walking into the line of the electricity caster and moved herself forward, holding up her shield to block the oncoming attack. She screamed in pain as her shield conducted the violet blast, sending more electricity through her body, bringing her to her knees. Her extremities twitched and seized, her entire body smoking and steaming from the damage. The hollam couldn’t take more abuse. Not from these high level enemies. It was too much and she was at her limit.

  Forcing herself to shift before she blacked out, Ambrose became a short, red-capped girl, a cleaver appearing in her left hand. All at once, her body felt anew, unscathed, and hungry. The caster shouted in surprise as she shifted forms in front of him. Yet as he raised his hand to attack again, Rose, the redcappi flung her cleaver at him. The bone weapon sailed violent and true, bisecting the man' s arm up to the elbow. He screamed in pain, falling to his back and howling as Rose moved to charge the victim and finish him off.

  She could feel his blood fueling her power, could taste his fear on her tongue like the sweet syrup on hotcakes. She wanted his head, wanted to kill. To kill. To-

  “Hey, look at me!” a woman’s sultry voice called, a beautiful woman in a maroon dress dropping the night guard captain limply to the ground. She and her men had been defeated, it was simply Rose and this woman, this beautiful creature. “That’s it. Look at me… don’t look away, my special warrior. Come here. Come to me,” she said, even as her hand openly drew a dagger.

  Part of Rose, an intensely cautious part of her, one that didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to hurt others, railed against her as she took a step toward the woman. That part of rose screamed that she was in danger, that the beautiful woman was an enemy and would hurt her. Rose wasn’t so sure. How could this pretty, friendly person be a threat. She took another step, and then another toward the woman who beckoned her closer with a curling finger and an alluring grin.

  “Yes, that’s it girl. Come here. Come to me,” she said as Rose got closer. She ignored the screaming in her head, ignored the warnings until something inside of her snapped.

  She grew, long elegant robes hanging from still obvious curves as her body filled out and settled into a beautiful hourglass figure. The plump plushness of her body did nothing to detract from the raw power and control she felt in the new form. Looking down at the enchanting woman, she now saw clearly the magic that had been attempting to control her. This woman was a powerful student in the world of seduction, but she was still a student and lacked the raw talents the form of the deviswine was born with.

  “Put away that little stick, girl. Come to me. I have interest in you,” Ambrose said, her voice just as resonant as the other woman’s had been. The woman even dropped her dagger as Ambrose’s influence took hold. Desire was blooming in the woman’s eyes even as she tried desperately to resist Ambrose’s command.

  “Wh-what are you!?” She asked eyes wide as she tried to look into Ambrose past the shawl and the robes. She was terrified, shocked that she was outclassed and being ensnared even as the two of them spoke. There was a loud gonging noise and then a groan that caught Ambrose’s attention as she spotted the warrior from before pick up the injured mage, running as the vat in the center of the building crashed into its circular setting in the floor of the building. It groaned as it began tilting, leaning in the direction of Ambrose, the night guard, and all of the unconscious dwarves.

  Ambrose made a decision; she turned and rushed toward the vat. Shifting to the merfolk form she summoned large gouts of water, angling them up toward the fixture even as shimmering, mana lined crystals began to fall from the lip and down onto the unconscious people she was rushing, desperate to save. She made thick pillars as the structure continued to lean toward her, moving quickly toward the base before shifting again, moving to the only form she had that she thought might have enough strength to stop the entire vat from crushing everyone.

  Pain wracked her body as the hollam returned, still sizzling and cracking with electricity. Her entire body was wracked with pain as she moved herself against the wall of the vat pressing her hands and chest onto it and pushing with all the force she could muster. Even with the support of the ice, she heard cracking and groaning from her pillars, as she tried to stop the entire structure from coming down on their heads.

  The weight was immense, bearing down even though the vat hadn’t reached the full swing of its fall. There were literal tons worth of crystals inside of the giant metal cauldron and all of that weight seemed determined to crush her and take the lives of the guards and their evidence with it. Ambrose roared, desperate to protect the people she had come to the refinery with. She bellowed and pushed even as the ground cracked beneath her hooves, even as every joint in her back popped from the stress.

  She just needed to halt the momentum, to stop the thing from moving enough to wedge more supports under it, to wash the prisoners and the Night guard out of the building and find back up. She just needed to- her knees buckled, the damage on her body too much to resist. Her body collapsed to one knee and she held her hands high over her head, screaming as she exerted all the force her body and stats would allow to stop the vat.

  It groaned overhead, the pillars she had made cracking but still holding. For a long moment, Ambrose wasn’t sure if she’d done enough. All the noise and all the pressure on her body was enough that she felt she surely had met her end. Yet, a moment later, everything went silent except for her panting and gasping for air. Her entire back screamed at her, and her lungs burned with new pain, but the vat seemed to have settled. It was no longer falling.

  Ambrose wanted to get up, to go check on the others, to see if everyone was okay. She wanted to shift, to ease some of the intense pain wracking body. She did none of that. She fell to the side and collapsed, her mind blank and unresponsive as she took in long gasps of air.

  —

  By the time her thoughts had straightened out, Ambrose found herself being dragged from the building by one of the night guards. Her entire body was bruised, sore, and in poor condition. Luckily, Ambrose had a temporary remedy. Closing her eyes, for the first time in a while, she returned to her human form. The man pulling her gasped in surprise and let her go, only for her to catch herself before her head could hit the pavement and move herself to her feet. She felt refreshed, none of her body screaming or burnt or twitching as she moved to her feet.

  Still, after the ordeal she’d just thrown herself into, she felt mentally worn out and weak. Waving the guard off to go help someone else, she spent a moment in the fresh air, breathing deeply and looking around herself. For a moment, she’d almost expected that she’d never be able to do so again. Once she’d collected her thoughts, she turned her head and started looking for the captain.

  She found the woman without much effort, seated on a bench near the entrance to the refinery. She was giving out orders even in her recovering state and still maintained her grouchy demeanor. Though that softened when she noticed Ambrose walking her way. “Ah. Our hero of the evening,” she said, pushing herself to her feet with a grunt, “I… no. We owe you thanks. Without your help, we, my people and I would have been in well over our heads. What should have been a quick sting would have turned into a complete slaughter on our part. Their three elites may have gotten away, but if you hadn’t stalled and outmatched them with that class of yours, I’m pretty certain we would have been lucky to get away from them.”

  Ambrose was a little surprised at the genuine gratitude, but she wasn’t about to turn it down. “I’m happy I could help. I just wish I could have don-”

  “Don’t say that,” the Captain said, clapping a hand onto her shoulder and shaking her head. “You did more than enough. You saved the lives of my men out there tonight. You kept them from dying horrible deaths, crushed under a vat or fried by electricity, or tortured for any number of nefarious purposes. You are a civilian, a citizen, and tonight you are a hero. You did more than enough.”

  Ambrose felt a weight that had been trying to settle onto her shoulders leave her. The captain was right. She’d done all she could with the experience and power she had. She’d managed to save people, to help people, and hopefully less people would be exposed to a terrible sounding drug because of her efforts. She shouldn’t worry about doing too little, not when she’d given it her all.

  “Did you capture many?” she asked, looking at the captain who nodded.

  “Enough to get some good confessions. We might even be able to find a source thanks to all of this. If that happens, we’ll be well ahead of these crooks,” she chuckled. Moving a hand to Ambrose’s arm and turning her. “Come, we can talk about the rest as I walk you back to the school. You do know that the place has a student curfew, don’t you?” she teased as she began to walk away with Ambrose, the hero of the evening.

  "Why so long from now?" you might ask?

  Because I am in the middle of some work on other projects and want to make sure I give proper attention to not only your edit suggestions, but patching some issues you have found as readers.