The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

Ah, the sweet scent of progress! I could practically taste it—no, not the kind of taste that lingers after chomping down on a dungeon critter—but the taste of victory, of growing stronger by the day. It was quite a simple notion, really. I was becoming more powerful, something I'd fancied for ages.

Learning magic, carving out a path, and wielding strength all my own—something I had always wanted! And even though mana was still playing hard to get, I was advancing, improving bits and bobs of myself like some sort of self-taught, monster surgeon. With each enhancement, I could practically feel the power surging within me. Every time I levelled up a skill, it was like a jolt of pure joy, a little triumph all of my own.

One day, mark my words, this whole wretched dungeon would grovel at my feet! Or, er, whatever I happened to be standing on at the time.

But, alas, dreams aside, my current predicament demanded a rather more pressing solution—unlocking that mana and maybe, just maybe, returning to my former human glory. If I didn't want to be skewered on sight up there, I'd need to pull it off before that.

Perhaps I could pass as a magical beast, join Stephan, and waltz out of here. Yet, that plan was about as watertight as a sieve. Would I stay like this, forever? Not that I particularly loathed this body of mine—living weapon or not, it did have its perks, even if they were rather on the murderous side.

But if there was to be any hope of reclaiming my old self, it seemed the only way forward was through—killing more monsters, levelling up, and then... well, I'd have to see. But as I grew stronger with each monstrous defeat, the dream of wielding magic didn't seem so distant. In fact, I could practically feel it within my grasp. Maybe evolution was the key to it all!

But, alas, evolution would have to wait, no matter how much I itched for it. Lotte knew better, bless her. So, I sat tight. No threat loomed in this tunnel—at least for the time being. That bugger of a bug seemed to be a loner. Perhaps there were more up ahead in this murky passage. A part of me fancied a little jaunt down there. After all, their illusions were about as useful as a chocolate teapot against me. I could see right through them if I kept my wits about me and my eyes peeled for anything hinky with the hues.

But I stayed put. First off, because I was stuffed to the gills—bloody hell, what else would I hunt those bugs for? Morphogen, of course! I'd already hit the level cap, and it didn't seem like any more experience points would be rolling my way. The mere thought of another bite had my stomach doing cartwheels.

Naturally, the amount of Morphogen I could gather was strictly tied to how much I could chow down. So, my motivation had taken a nosedive. Besides, maybe I'd reached the cap at lightning speed.

Still… there was a bit of time before Barn would stir. I could really go for a kip and a chat with Lotte. It felt like eons since our last natter, which was, erm, just a few hours ago… Arghhhhh! I hadn't the foggiest idea how much time had passed since I munched that bug monster and flopped here. Four hours? Maybe five? No clue, but these weird voices echoing up ahead in the tunnel were driving me absolutely bonkers! Why was time dragging its feet like this???

I sprang to my feet, peeling myself out of that sticky, bright sap. Honestly, I was getting far too chummy with that goo! Sitting here just wouldn't cut it! Even if it was safe… the tunnel was narrow… and I'd spot any threat a mile off… I reckoned something was seriously amiss with my noggin. This restlessness, this itch to keep moving, to uncover more, to learn—it was like a bloody fire under my backside, even though staying put was probably the sensible option.

What was this madness? The sensible bit of my brain knew that parking myself, catching some shut-eye, and maybe untangling the knots in my head was the clever thing to do. But then there was this other bit—the bit that had been poking at me since I first opened my eyes in this new, scaly hide—that wouldn't let me rest.

It was as if my brain had split down the middle. On one side, the urge to be cautious, to survive, to play it smart in this whole cock-up of a situation was hollering at me to stay put. On the other, there was this relentless curiosity, this burning itch to know, to explore, to push the boundaries of what I could wrap my head around, even if it meant hurtling headlong into the unknown.

This turmoil wasn't just all in my head—it was physical too. My scales itched, my muscles twitched, and my heart thudded away, as if some primal part of me was dead-set on the idea that staying still was as good as rolling over and letting the world pass me by without so much as a fight. Was it fear? Excitement? Or some bonkers blend of the two? All I knew was that I wouldn't be able to stand it for much longer.

I could tell from my own scatterbrained thoughts, from the changes I'd clocked, that I wasn't the same as before. Didn't really have much time to dwell on it. And now that I did, I almost didn't want to stop. I peered down the tunnel, ears pricked for the noises up ahead—the growls, the flapping wings… I—

I'd just have a quick butcher's. Just a little one!

So, on I waddled, through that wretchedly sticky sap, the squelch of it a rather rude accompaniment to my musings. It wasn't long before I noticed something odd—yet another part of the tunnel where the hues seemed... off.

Oh, splendid.

Probably another one of those bug-eyed bastards, catching wind of my not-so-discreet slogging through the muck. No matter. I was now certain that these lot fancied themselves a bit of an ambush artists, always lying in wait to pounce. Adorable, really. I had half a mind to dispatch it now, save the body for a late snack when I wasn't so uncomfortably stuffed. Sounded like a decent plan.

Creeping closer, I feigned ignorance, playing the clueless dolt while inching into range. And then—wham! Claws out, no swiping this time. Oh no, I drove them straight in, relishing the creature's delightful shrieks as it latched onto my paw with all the ferocity of a particularly vexed toddler.

But did it know what was coming? Of course not. With a grin, I clamped my jaws around its shrieking noggin, tearing it clean off with a satisfying crunch.

These bugs were really a one-trick pony, weren't they? Illusions, illusions, and—oh, what's that? More illusions. Or perhaps I'd simply caught it so off guard in its little safety net that its tiny mind just fizzled out. Honestly, I'd be gobsmacked too if something I thought I was sneaking up on suddenly turned the tables.

[Claw Swipe has reached level 4]

[Crunch has reached level 3]

Sweet, juicy level ups. I could practically taste it! Was it just me, or had these bugs been speeding up my skill level-ups like nobody's business? Honestly, they had definitely been punching above my weight class, so maybe using my skills against such formidable foes was cranking up the upgrades at a rather delightful pace.

Also… The bugger had stopped moving, definitely dead—yet no message had popped up to mark my victory. Welp, made sense. It looked like I'd have to wait until I evolved.

Leaving the bugger's corpse where it lay—for now, at least—I plunged my wounded paw into the vicious sap, watching as the ichor did its work, knitting the torn flesh back together. With a sigh, I resumed my slog, trudging forward until the tunnel began to widen.

I could see it now—the tunnel widening just up ahead. Time to get sneaky. With all the grace of a fox in a henhouse, I switched to stealth mode, creeping forward with the utmost caution. Each step was calculated, deliberate, until I reached the tunnel's yawning mouth. There, I paused, swallowing a lump the size of a goose egg, and stretched my serpentine neck to take a cautious peek.

What was I expecting? A monster mosh pit, perhaps? I mean, with all those ungodly growls and screeches echoing through the tunnels, none of which sounded like they were on chummy terms, my mind had immediately concocted visions of a full-on brawl. It seemed a reasonable assumption.

Instead, what greeted me was a massive chamber, its walls festooned with little holes—each one a perfect twin to the tunnel I'd just slithered out of. From these openings oozed the same sticky sap, dribbling down the stone and collecting in natural basins below. The sap, as per usual, gleamed in those unnervingly bright hues, casting an eerie glow over the entire chamber.

The floor was an undulating mess, no doubt carved by the incessant drip of sap over the ages. Pools of the stuff shimmered here and there, like sluggish, iridescent lakes. And smack dab in the centre of it all was a colossal tree trunk, easily five metres in diameter, stretching from the chamber's floor to its ceiling. No branches, though—just more of those blasted holes, merrily spewing the same sap as if it were the chamber's lifeblood.

Then there were the monsters. A veritable freak show of the most bizarre creatures one could imagine, all assembled in one place without so much as a snarl or a swipe at one another. Wait, no, scratch that; some of them were snarling at each other.

Near these healing sap basins, they stood, each maintaining a respectable distance. There were scaled wolves, serpents with feathers, and—wait for it—rats. Rats that had somehow piled upon each other in a screeching, writhing mass. Good lord, they were absolutely vile, festering with open wounds that made my stomach turn. What in the name of all that's holy were those abominations?

There were more monsters lurking about, but one thing was crystal clear—this was no battlefield. It was as if they had all signed some unspoken truce, an agreement to refrain from tearing each other to shreds in this one sacred space. How very civilised of them.

They were divided by species, but it wasn't exactly a family reunion. Some of them kept to themselves, isolated from their brethren, while others mingled with their own kind. The one common thread? They were all nursing some rather nasty wounds. One of the scaled wolves, for instance, had a gash on its neck that looked like it had been on the wrong end of a sword. It gingerly scooped up some sap with its paws, applying it to the wound, and once the healing had kicked in, it politely vacated the spot for the next wolf in line.

One of those creepers had also slithered its way into the mix, and judging by the wide berth everyone was giving it, this chap had quite the reputation. Nobody seemed keen on getting too close, not even the scaled wolves.

And then there were the bugs—identical to the ones I'd squashed in the tunnel earlier. The wingflaps I'd heard must have been them, flitting about. Of course, they could fly, too—because why not? They buzzed around the sap-dripping holes in that tree-like monstrosity in the centre, looking as busy as bees around a hive.

The more I observed, the stranger it all became. What on earth was this place? And more importantly, how in the devil were these monsters managing to be so… civilised about it? It was messing with everything I thought I knew about them, which, frankly, I found rather unsettling.

I'd always been told that monsters were these mindless, bloodthirsty beasts, hell-bent on nothing but killing and devouring. While that much had held true, I had never once got the feeling they were mindless.

They were cunning, even if that cunning was solely dedicated to efficiently dispatching other monsters and gobbling them up.

At least my curiosity was sated, for the moment. My mind had something else to chew on. Part of me even toyed with the idea of venturing down there to see if this truce extended to me as well. Perhaps it was some exclusive monster club, and I'd need a membership card to gain entry to their cosy little healing chamber.

Of course, these were just idle musings. No way in hell was I about to risk it. So, I waited, pondering how my life had taken such a topsy-turvy turn, with every bit of knowledge I thought I had being upended.

It wasn't until I felt a tiny scuttle on my paws that my musings were abruptly interrupted.