When two cats fight, they puff themselves out and arch their backs, standing on tippy-beans to appear as menacing as possible. Be it a back alley, or a couch, or even a warm spot, the cats square up in their way. A dance of violence then occurs. Sharpened claws flash out to tear skin, and a flurry of strikes proclaim a victor.

Emilio's tail puffed. His back hair stood on end. He circled and hissed, daring the abomination to join him in the time old tradition of feline battle. But [Pushkin], the thing that was not a cat, stood stock still under the light of the moon in the backyard and refused to join the dance.

Ridiculously offensive.

"HISS!" Emilio warned as he took a giant step closer to get in range for a strike.

Still [Pushkin] seemed to stare at nothing but the air around Emilio. A dribble of his fetid drool dropped to the ground and burned away the life. He couldn't have that. The Gnomes he loved vowed to protect the Earth as well as serve him.

In a flash, Emilio pulled the static electricity from the rustling air and the swaying leaves. [Lightning Infusing] his [Murder Mittens], he [Zoomied] forward with a grunt and flared out his beans for a brutal strike.

Raw energy tore out of his claws as he struck true. Rotted flesh sizzled under his power, blasting away through the yard as his sharpened [Murder Mittens] ripped a chunk of the Monster. Calling upon his [Skyward Prancing Flow], a beam of power followed his claws, doubling down and sending a surge of contained Essence from his Core to his enemy.

Then with a flash of light he [Zoomied] away, putting some distance between him and his opponent to watch what torment he had inflicted.

Lightning and Earth Essence ripped through the Monster, cracking both fang and sizzling away leathery fur. Emilio watched as his passive damage spell, [Righteous Lightning Gut], unleashed the force of a dozen lightning strikes through the hit. With just a simple swipe, most monsters would have perished instantly.

Dried skin flung out and sizzled the ground. Emilio heard the distinct crack of a tail bone breaking. Though he anticipated the collapse at his mighty, casual strike, he kept ready.

But [Pushkin] did not fall.

Its body stopped convulsing, having lost most of its fur. Only its skinny head hadn't been damaged, and it stood there on bone legs and creaky tendons. Then for the first time during their dance, the abomination of a cat regarded him.

Its head tilted to the side with several crunches of aged bone to look at Emilio with dehydrated, deflated eyes. There was no anger of being bested there. No sign of pain or the scent of fearful prey. [Pushkin] just looked at him with dead eyes on legs of bone as another drop of drool fell to the ground.

A dreadful sound scraped from Pushkin's vocal cords.

"Mruh." It attempted to meow.

Black energy slicked across Pushkin's bones. It didn't break eye contact as Emilio felt the life of the world around him dragged around the monster. Patches of fur whipped back toward Pushkin along with the bone he'd torn off. They reassembled imperfectly, like patchwork denim over a skeleton. The whole while, the monster groaned miserably through its malformed Skill.

Emilio did not feel fear. Hadn't felt it in years, since he was a kitten. He was the Ruler of Sun and Shade. But the morbid Skill in front of him…concerned him. As a cat, whether he understood it or not, he was part of the circle of life. Slaying critters and vermin lest they overpopulate.

When he or Petal drew on the flow of Earth, they always returned it stronger. Pushkin seemed to be stealing it. Collecting it and hoarding it to make something twisted.

The birds perched tucked themselves together in terror. They felt it too. The primordial warning one gets before a car crash. It might be an itchy left palm, or a tightening of the gut in anxiety. Emilio's tail stayed puffed as he circled while Pushkin's head tracked him with an unmoving body.

Then without a hiss or even a twitch of muscle, the abomination flung itself at Emilio in a cloud of black to attack.

Emilio got his [Circle of Slumber] up just in time. A melted together torrent of teeth and claws collided with the slightly opaque field that surrounded him. He hissed through his shield as he measured how much power Pushkin was delivering on the other side. While under the shield, he could not draw in any more Essence from the Earth or energy around him, and for the first time in ages, he felt his Core start to drain from the draw. His pupils dilated fully as he analyzed his enemy. No one had challenged him since his ascension began. And now a dead thing wearing cat's skin took a chunk of his power from its attack.

Emilio sat down in his bubble as Pushkin raged against the protective wall. It seemed to have more claws than made sense, striking and thrashing like a horde of cats tossed into an ice bath after someone stole their treats. Except Pushkin did not hiss or meow. The Monster was just cold, psychotic rage without any of the nobility. Tilting his head, Emilio waited and measured his enemy. It was thousands of slashes clawing, hundreds of bites attempting to pierce, delivered with cold ferocity and no style.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Yawn.

Finally, after a full minute and a quarter of his available Essence, the potent attack of Pushkin flashed away back to its starting position. Emilio dropped his shield and filled his Core back up.

Pushkin just stood there with a dripping mouth staring at him, damaged and patchy, but standing and staring. Still without a puffy tail or a traditional circling fight stance.

Emilio decided it was time for another warning of the incoming attack. "HISS--!"

Right in the middle of his masterful hiss, the black blur of Pushkin leapt again, coving the distance in the blink of an eye. The spinning rage of the dead cat flew over instantly as Emilio reacted. Thankfully, a fighting cat doesn't ever blink.

Emilio allowed Pushkin to ram into him. As he felt the first strike bounce harmlessly off his [Magestic Fur], he wrapped all four powerful limbs around Pushkin's grotesque, spindly frame. Rather than initiate [Backleg Bashing], Emilio couched and launched them into the air, carrying the abomination with him as lightning began to fill every nook and cranny of his body.

The Monster raged in his grip, but he clamped his nails in deeper to hit bone. Pushkin scraped uselessly against enchanted fluff and fat. Emilio did not take damage, of course. But if the Monster wanted to play games at being a cat, he might as well teach him the Art of the Feline.

His favorite game, naturally, was how high could he go?

Since he could now perch anywhere, he figured he would show the cat that was not a cat what a truly high perch a majestic feline such as he could attain.

Up over the neighbourhood a chunky gray cat with glowing green eyes ascended. On static electricity, Emilio pulled them upwards, glowing brighter the higher he got. Cowering birds peeked their eyes out to ogle. For millennia, they had used the air to fly away from predators. Thanks to the System, and the indomitable stubbornness of a lazy cat, the sky was no longer safe. Hadn't been for some time. Not since the one known as Emilio had ascended, controlling both the nooks, the crannies under beds, as well as the sky.

Lightning rumbled as Emilio called it from the cloudless sky. Pushkin freaked out and convulsed. The gray tabby glowed in the night, looking like a chunky missile carrying an angry, wet blanket. He was impossibly smug as he soared upward with the Monster clenched tightly in his grasp. If he could smile, he absolutely would have.

He wondered, should he strike with full power before or after he dropped Pushkin? The monster played a cat, right? Surely the cat would land on its feet.

A mile above ground he stopped his flight. Pushkin lost its mind further as dark Skills burst from its half-knit body, shadowy claws and bone spikes. Each pinged against Emilio's [Majestic Fur] like little pebbles. One particularly vicious black flare ripped a splice of Essence from him, but up here in the sky, it did not matter. The violent winds filled his Core to its brim immediately.

He regarded the Monster thrashing in his [Murder Mittens], holding it like a plaything prey. Didn't they understand?

Emilio knew exactly why this thing had been sent for him. It had been sent to keep him away. To deal with him. To pull him from his duty. To distract him from protecting his kin while the real predators struck from the shadows.

Alex was his.

It wasn't a Familiar bond, or a System contract. It wasn't something nefarious which allowed him to control Alex, or have Alex control him. Through hunts, scritches, naps, and the following of the Gnomes through the GnOpal, Emilio had begun to ascend to the upper tiers currently available within the System.

There were Liches, powerful undead tied to this plane of existence through phylacteries. Dungeon Bosses who twisted space and defeated Adventurers to match their will. Roving hordes of Monsters that moved as one, Adventurers and System-users who had carved their way to power. Still, Emilio was different from them all. He knew there must be others like him, but he hadn't met any yet.

Pushkin unleashed another Skill, a bone lance. It struck Emilio's fur, only to shatter like glass and sprinkle the night as its power fell. He was in his element now. Under the moonlight, above the world on his formed perch, surrounded by everything and hidden in plain sight. A true Feline.

A whisper brushed his ear, and instinct flowed through Emilio. It was time to stop the play and go.

Without a second thought, he pulled his claws free and dropped Puskin from a mile in the air. The Monster's thrashing form spun downwards to plummet toward the earth. Emilio didn't watch it fall. He compressed the glow radiating from his body and pulled the light inward to streak across Toronto. He knew he was needed elsewhere.

As he streaked across the night's sky, he pulled up his hidden nameplate.

[Emilio – Hidden Demigod of Felines]

It wasn't something a person or a monster could ever earn. It was what happened when a creature cultivated enough sunbeams while sleeping, instilled fear in every bird, and in his case, extended his hunt and slumber through an entire city. When a chunky cat simply kept climbing to the highest available perch. Yet there were still higher places to ascend and loaf.

He went in the opposite direction of his [Chosen Companion]. Due to his Title, and his obvious selection, he could always feel Alex in the back of his mind. The mewling he'd found on the street was a warm thread tied directly to Emilio's Path to Godhood. He needed to protect the boy, since he was his human, and bugger anyone who tried to hurt him.

When he'd found a skinny, wet Alex sleeping in a cold corner, the boy's first instinct was to find Emilio food to win him over. It wasn't the food that convinced Emilio to stick by Alex's side all those years. It was the boy's immediate care of another creature out on the streets despite his state. Choosing Alex as his companion, and now officially his [Chosen Companion], had been the easiest decision Emilio had ever made. Yes, it helped him in his path, but Emilio's was one of nobility. The System [Path] he had chosen to ascend through the reaches of Skill levels one hundred and above would be carved true from the instinct of his noble species.

Also, of course the only path available when the System notified him had been [Path of The Feline].

Apt.

Below, Pushkin's falling body neared the ground. Emilio called forth a full lightning strike, as was his right.

From the cloudless sky, a spear of energy tore downward and struck the abomination right before he hit. The force lit the neighbourhood with a tremendous boom and blew apart the Monster into a million pieces before it landed, disintegrating it completely. Emilio had wanted to play with another cat, and the abomination was just disappointing on all fronts.

Birds flew in every direction, terrified, but grateful that the apex predator wasn't hunting them tonight.

Emilio just purred as he streaked onward. Using his sight Skill to look back at the house, he was pleased to see that the bits of the Monster did not reform, as well as that the bots celebrated in Mary's sleeping quarters.

The Hidden Demigod of Felines had more work to do. If he hurried, perhaps he could stop for a bird snack.

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