Demonic Devourer's Development

The griffin didn't attack first. It stood to its feet, keeping its unblinking eyes steered at me. Behind these bird's eyes, a predator's intelligence calculated possibilities. Was I a threat, or a new, unfamiliar prey? Unknown was always a risk, and when losing a bet meant losing your life, the best strategy was to avoid risks whatsoever.

With some conclusion achieved in its monster brain, the griffin spread its wings. They were wide and broad, a dazzling display of blue feathers fluttering on the harsh mountain wind. They appeared to be huge compared to the griffin's body, almost tripling its perceived size. Then, the creature let out a loud screech, a threatening and powerful call to get the fuck off its hunting grounds.

"You wish," I muttered, not intimidated in the least. Cautious, yes—this was a new, unknown opponent—but not afraid. I flexed my fingers, extending my claws, and dropped my travelling bag on the ground so it won't obstruct my movements.

The griffin was in elevated position, a good seven meters above and twice as much away, which was to its advantage. If it went on the offence, I would have a harder time dodging its pounce. But with these eagle wings, the griffin would have a hard time manoeuvring in the air, especially compared to me. I imagined that like eagles, griffins flew around the mountains, scoping their prey from the air and then swooping in.

So I just had to keep the griffin below me. That would prevent it from escaping, too.

With a jump and a thunderous buzzing of my wings, I took off into the air in a direct line towards my opponent. Not just prey. The griffin was too much of a predator, and too much of a powerful creature to be only a prey. For now, at least.

It let me come closer before it met my movement with its own. A mighty leap, with a trajectory intercepting mine. The griffin's wings were open, not flapping but helping it to descend, and its front legs with their wicked bird claws aimed for my chest.

Adrenaline filled my veins, but instead of the usual rush I felt, something more filled me. A detachment, as if I was a guest in my body even more than I already was. A feeling not unlike being an observer from the side, except I was still looking from my own eyes. I could analyse everything that was happening easier than before, and the rush of blood and wind in my ears was a distant thing.

I looked at the griffin's claws and thought that, yes, this creature must've had 'Blade Claws' taken instead of normal ones. And, just like I did before, I also knew that this meant nil if they won't be able to touch me.

I turned my wings, changing the direction of my flight well before the griffin could reach me. It didn't hit the ground; instead, it turned the jump into a glide and used the momentum and some furious flapping of wings to get back and right at me again.

This was some admirable turn speed, especially with the weight of all these lion muscles. The inertia in a body like that must've been awful, but the griffin's movements in the air were graceful. Still, compared to me, it could've as well been a rock.

When the griffin tried to go at me with its claws again, I dashed up and let it fly by below me. By now, I had a better measure of its speed, and left less space between us. The griffin went close enough that the wind from its wings hit my face.

In that moment, I wanted to grab on them with my claws and mount the creature—and it was such a great opportunity!—but I didn't calculate its speed well enough. It swished past me faster than I expected, and my fingers met only thin air.

We both were left frustrated by our misses. The griffin let out an angry screech and flew back to its cliff. It crossed the distance of a dozen meters with just a few powerful flaps and from there, stared at me. Its wings were raised in a silent threat. The griffin wasn't so keen on dealing with me right now.

Cats. They were all lazy creatures. Call that conserving energy, but I didn't like them much. I didn't plan to let that one go.

Next time I would be ready to meet it.

I dashed up first, until I was several meters above the griffin's perch, and then swooped at it directly. The creature expected it and reared to raise its claws in defence.

In the last moment, when there was less than a meter between us, I feinted again and changed my flight trajectory to fly above the griffin's head. The inertia of my body moved me down close enough for me to take a swipe at the griffin's forehead.

My claws tore at its feathers, leaving bloody gashes behind. Even though they were too shallow to hurt it much, the griffin screeched in fury. It clawed at me, but its pose was too unbalanced. Gravity pushed it back on all fours again, while I turned my body in the air and landed right between the griffin's wings.

Immediately, it buckled under me, forcing me to hold hard. This position was perfect for finishing a creature with one precise stab of a stinger. It was already extended, and but before I could stick it in, the griffin rolled to its back.

With that weird clarity I had, I knew that if I stayed where I was, I'd be flattened into a pancake like the ones Risha liked to make. Was there such a thing as a meat pancake?