Scott curled his hands into fists then flexed his muscles briefly. "This is what I was supposed to have become all along?"

He marveled briefly at the raw sense of power that coursed throughout his soul space. His stats had no doubt increased a little once more, though he would have gained no new skill points.

"Fingernails more akin to claws than anything a human might possess," he said softly. Until now he had transformed many times, but this moment was different in many ways. No longer did he feel a sense of disorientation. He was merely positioned in one phase of his physical existence.

He willed his hands to become slimmer, more human. His nails shrank down slightly but would only reduce to a certain degree. Weakness began to creep up within him. The longer he remained in that pseudo-human shape, the weaker he became. "My life force is draining.... is that it?"

The power of his true nature was such that he could achieve his three base forms without cost, but further transformative abilities beyond the baseline came at a hefty cost in life force.

Scott did the opposite. He willed himself to approach the middle ground, his draconic state.

Scott's spiritual body flickered then stretched out and became the dragon immediately. His draconic appearance had also changed slightly. His musculature had increased, and his horns were more impressive. The most noticeable change, however, was to his wings. As a hatchling they had been stubby. After his first growth spurt that had expanded a bit, but were of limited utility.

Now, however, he could extend them outward with an act of will and cause them to at least be truly capable of allowing him to glide long distances over an area. His ability to fight against his personal gravity also seemed to play a part, as that increased through will as well. True flight without the cost of life force would take a bit more growing up, however he felt certain that he could glide freely for at least a few minutes at a time before he would need to rest.

Thoughts turned toward the shadow. His body quickly dissolved into jet black nothingness. He no longer had to take several seconds to focus on the idea of changing. There was no temporarily discarded body that would dissolve within a few seconds. There was only the primordial darkness.

A brief experiment was undertaken. In his soul space he tried using various abilities that he possessed. Magic, his draconic auras, all manner of things. He could even increase the amount of space that his shadowy mass covered if he exerted his will. Speed of movement also functioned as an act of will. He found that he could move around at a much faster pace if he exerted himself heavily.

There was a downside to his new metamorphic freedom. Using ability beyond his baseline came at a hefty cost, but more importantly he realized that he would not regenerate his life force while he exerted himself heavily. In his base forms he seemingly regenerated at an even faster rate than before to compensate.

"I can use my abilities in either form now, I see... kind of makes the points spent I needed to spend before to add those functions to my forms a waste," he said with a nod of his head. He would never get those points back, but he also no longer needed to spend skill points to add those functions to his other abilities.

Most of his skill points expended on the shift to his metamorphic abilities, he considered his remaining options. Following a hunch based on the nature of his new existence and the tidbits of knowledge passed on by Logos Remnant, he spent the rest of his points on mana manipulation and mana sense skill sets. In the process he increased the ranks of the draw mana and life sense sub-skills. No new technique appeared, but he was certain that his upgrade would prove to be the missing piece to a puzzle he'd attempted to sort out ever since he acquired the ability to take life force from the world around him and turn it into mana.

There had been once been a disconnection within himself that no longer existed. The interfering plug-ins designed by the gods were largely to blame for some of the oddities he faced. Now that he was truly the race he had selected, and not just an approximation, he could perform his abilities with much greater natural comprehension. There was still interference. Over time he would need to learn how to return to this place so that he might add his other racial skills to the exceptional area of his soul. At that time, he would be complete at last.

"I have no idea how long I can stay here, but there's no sense in it..." Scott had spent all of his earned skill points and acquired far more than a few ranks worth of skills in the process. However, preparations were complete. It was time for him to do a lot of things that needed to be done, but first he needed to end the fight with Girtablilu.

Scott raised his head up to the scenery flashing across the lightened sky high over his head. "Let's see who's truly the legendary monster..."

He did as his fragmented memories did. Scott leapt upward toward the light that beckoned from high above. A sense of movement suffused his existence and then in a flash of light he regained his senses.

Briefly, there was a split-second of disorientation. However, he quickly realized what he had to do. Scott, now in his guise of Blackthorne once more, exploded into a cloud of darkness that covered the area.

Girtablilu shrieked and flailed about impotently as its senses were cut off from the world around it. While it could see in the dark perfectly well, this was no mere lack of light. It was the primordial element of darkness itself that it found itself within!

Blackthorne let out a roar that reverberated through the area. His aura of terror washed over the beast. Girtablilu froze in place briefly then shrieked once more.

"Strong enough to resist that..." said Blackthorne. "Fine..."

In all honesty, it was no longer a battle. Girtablilu was purely physical. Without magical abilities or weapons it could not harm the midnight shadow that had overtaken its world. From legendary monster to a mere sack of experience points in the blink of an eye, such was the fate of one who so egregiously chose to min-max his stats.

Blackthorne focused his attention on the beast while it raged within its dark prison. A brief moment of intense concentration passed before he felt it, the tiniest trickle of life force. "It works...." he said thoughtfully.

Living creatures of a certain intelligence would resist his attempt to draw their life force away. Grass barely resisted, while previously someone like Sonja would ignore his attempts altogether. Now, however, he was on a whole new level of ability. Without the disconnect from the plugin, and with incredible charisma for his level, he could actually break past the resistance brought up by less intelligent creatures. Girtablilu, for all its power, was quite stupid and lacked charisma. Far less capable of resistance than even a normal human being, its life force was slowly sucked away while it flailed around in the darkness.

It might resist elemental magic, and normal damage, but a power born of pure will was a different story. "Give me your energy!" cackled Blackthorne in a mildly demented bit of glee.

He stopped laughing suddenly, then began to laugh once more. The situation had changed so much, so quickly, that he'd had time to make an anime reference. He had realized that he sounded, for all the world, like a bad Sailor Moon villain. They were always screeching about life energy, and how they wanted to collect it from people.

Though, the life draining work was steady it was also slow. Blackthorne was forced to continually move around in order to keep the creature trapped inside the darkness. On more than one occasion, it tripped or fell heavily against one of the support beams that held the roof in place.

"You know, it would have been a problem before if the roof caved in... Now, you're shit out of luck fella," said Blackthorne.

Girtablilu screamed and flailed uselessly. Soon, it became desperate. It jumped around like it had lost its mind. Yet, despite its many attempts to escape its fate the creature slowly succumbed to the persistent drain effect.

How long did it take to deplete the creature's life force to the point that it lost consciousness? Blackthorne could not even begin to guess. It took long enough that he was forced to cast spells in order to release the excess life force gathered. Black lightning, and dark flames roared through the space inhabited by his shadowy presence. Unfortunately, though his magic could hurt the beast it was no different than the sort of injury one might receive when they touched a hot wire for a horse pasture, or a too hot frying pan. It hurt, but it clearly did little else to the beast but cause pain.

In the end, it felt like a lifetime to Blackthorne. Hours, at least, must have passed in his estimation while he waited for the beast to die.

That, of course, was not the end of the struggle. Once Girtablilu crashed to the ground, it was merely unconscious. Blackthorne continued to drain its life away for quite some time before its hearts finally stopped beating.

"Seriously, what the hell was this thing made of?" he asked rhetorically. Sometime or other during his thrilling and entirely epic battle with the legendary beast his wisp had departed for the abyss. In truth, he did not even know if she had been around for the battle as she might have left when he was drawn into that place inside of himself.

Blackthorne reformed back into his human-esque self then sighed wearily. "My life force is fine, but it's like I ran a marathon while I was doing my taxes..."

Every part of his body hurt, and he was exhausted to his core. A bit of warmth along his upper lip caused him to check his nose. "Bleeding? Damn..."

Normal status and information could not be relied upon to account for his exceptional skills. They were powered by something far more fundamental, his direct will alone. If nothing else, he would have a particularly nasty headache for a time. He could use his abilities whenever he wanted, but everything came with a cost. His constant mana drawing effect had increased his skill rank a few times during the battle. Given that much usage it was no wonder to him that his physical and spiritual stress were so high.

He checked his body condition information and noted several light stress fractures, high blood pressure and an irregular heartbeat. "Seriously... there's status effects for that?"

Blackthorne looked to the corpse of his fallen foe. Girtablilu was strong, far stronger than the one that took its life. Yet, it was dead while Blackthorne lived. Strength was not everything. Will, intelligence, and above all.... patience. Those were the keys to success. Of course, being a dragon also helped.

"I wonder if all that screaming Girtablilu did is the same thing that mages do when someone silences their spells?" It was a powerful reminder to him that a well-rounded individual with a few specialties was better than someone who mastered only one ability.

A magic wielder who could not cast spells, would be helpless against a powerful physically oriented foe. Just as something as immensely strong as the legendary monster Girtablilu had easily fallen to someone immune to physical damage. Easily, of course, did not mean quickly.

He sighed wearily then began searching the corpse for bits and pieces of loot. A few large scales hopped free, much like the occasional finger or tooth did from a zombie. "No coins or anything, but several useful synergy ingredients at least."

Suddenly, the fragrant aroma of the dead beast filled Blackthorne's nostrils. Previously he had only wanted to avoid gagging due to the stench of the creature, but now there was something quite delightful about the corpse.

His stomach growled and a shiver ran through his body. The words that came from his lips surprised him, yet he only felt the idea that he should be repulsed and not the actual sentiment. His human upbringing called it disgusting, but his draconic nature was far more pragmatic. Slowly, he came to terms with his true desires. "I mean... if no one else is going to have any?"

Blackthorne looked around a little. No one spontaneously appeared before him to demand a portion of Girtablilu. So, he assumed it was all for him.

In the places where bits of shell had broken off, he tore a large chunk of meat free. He held it up to eye level then frowned. "Why isn't this disgusting?"

A brief moment of personal confliction passed then he sighed once more and bit into the juicy morsel. Despite the disgusting nature of the meal a trill of pleasure danced across his tongue. He closed his eyes halfway and he acquired an expression akin to one that might have crossed the face of a starving man who had just found a free piece of cake.

Blood and various bits of gore dribbling down his chin, he chewed merrily on the remains of his fallen foe. "Man. I'm having the best kind of day."

He gnawed on a bit of Girtablilu again then swayed his body happily from side to side. "Hehe. Meat."