The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

Right, so, I knew they had this rather nifty trick where their bizarre little exoskeletons changed color to blend into the surroundings—quite efficient at that, especially in the dark. And this new upgrade seemed to offer just that. Still, I couldn’t just go picking willy-nilly, could I?

So, off I went, whizzing through the lot. Tempting as it was to grab the first shiny one, I couldn't risk missing something brilliant. After all, I was a dragon of impeccable intellect and far-reaching vision! Or, well, I liked to think so. Was Lotte sure my head was in proper working order?

Bah, never mind. Right, focus. Time to categorize!

First up, Scale Overlap and Keratin Hardening—definitely more of the "keep me safe" variety. Scale Overlap extended the criss-cross pattern of my scales, giving me a bit more coverage. I thought of it like a full-body shield. Brilliant for when things got up close and scrappy.

Though, in an ideal world, I’d rather not get smacked about too often, thank you very much. Sure, the upgrades made me harder to hit, but I wasn’t about to test out the dungeon crawlers’ smashing abilities on my glorious hide. Best to keep reading.

Next on the screen was Keratin Hardening. Rather than boosting coverage, this one beefed up the toughness of my scales. Straightforward, really—just making them tougher and more resistant to any unwelcome pokes and slashes. Perfect if I ended up tangling with some heavy hitters or critters with claws sharper than my wit.

But did I really need more hardening if the plan was to dodge most of the trouble? Hmm. Then again, that extra toughness might come in handy during a sticky situation.

Ah, decisions, decisions...

Flexible Scales. Is it odd that anything with 'flexible' in the name immediately called out to me? Honestly, heaven help me if ‘Flexible Dragon’ popped up as an evolution option – I'd be all over it! This one, like the rest, was mighty tempting. Flexibility just made sense, didn’t it? I could shimmy about quicker, less restricted, especially with all the nimble maneuvers I was hoping to master. Dodging, ducking, and darting around like a proper elusive creature—that was the style I fancied.

But here’s the thing: I never thought my scales were holding me back. It’s like finding a fix for a problem I didn’t even know I had. And even if it was a problem, it must’ve been so tiny that I hadn't noticed. Maybe it would become more obvious as I matured? Or perhaps not. Who knew? Anyway, I reckoned I’d pass on that for now.

Now, Heat Regulation… this was a bit more niche. I wasn’t entirely sure what kind of fiery pits or icy caverns these dungeons had in store, but if the system offered this, there were bound to be some extreme temperatures down the line. Still, I had to be honest—it felt more like a cozy comfort thing than an actual upgrade. If things got too toasty, I could always just leg it out of there. Hardly worth it.

And then… Colour Adaptation. Oh yes! Now we were talking! This little gem had me buzzing with excitement. It was practically tailor-made for my stealthy dragon aspirations! Blending in with my surroundings like a proper sneak, lying in wait, poised for the perfect ambush—glorious! It was like having a cloak of invisibility, except it was all me. Granted, it wasn’t going to fool any beastie sniffing around with other senses, but for visual stealth, it was bang on the money. Pair it with my ever-improving Stealth skill, and I’d be a nightmare to spot.

So, after mulling it all over, Colour Adaptation was the clear winner. It just felt right, efficient, clever, and wonderfully synergistic with my skills. I locked it in, braced myself, and once again welcomed that familiar jolt of pain with open claws.

 

***

 

The tunnel shimmered with hues, but it was eerily quiet. There was always a breeze down here, though where it came from? Not a clue. The agony from upgrading my scales was gone, and they were already shifting colors, blending into the murky surroundings without me even thinking about it. Sure, I was seeing everything in technicolor brilliance, but the tunnel itself was mostly steeped in darkness. Not that it mattered—my scales were already a nice shade of black, so the shift was barely noticeable.

I turned my attention back to the screen. Right then, time for the final one: the fire gland upgrade.

Just as I was about to mentally hit the button, a sudden, bone-chilling dread crawled up my spine. That first sharp jab of existential terror made me whip my head toward the far end of the tunnel, where I could now hear a slow, deliberate scraping sound, like bones dragging over stone.

I quickly looked away and squeezed my eyes shut, my brain finally catching up to what was happening. Ah yes, that all-too-familiar feeling of existential dread, only this time, it was a bit more... intense. Of course, it had to be Barn. He must’ve returned from his mission, probably in his true form. Didn’t fancy being paralyzed with fear, so I kept my eyes closed.

Then, I felt it—that slow, familiar scuttle on my wrist. Cracking my eyes open, there he was again, the little bony serpent with his ridiculous but oddly endearing fake eyes.

And naturally, he hadn’t come empty-handed.

My eyes drifted toward what was now clogging the tunnel. A massive tree, made entirely of bones—pure white and gleaming. The hues bounced off it, casting reds, blues, and yellows in strange, almost hypnotic patterns. It might’ve been serene. Might’ve. But that wasn’t what grabbed my attention.

No, it was the grotesque monster rats entangled in the bone tree. Each one was half as tall as a human, with grotesquely thin, lanky bodies, and disturbingly long hands, their fingers tapering into sharp claws. They were all frozen in place, completely ensnared by the tree’s bone branches. The branches coiled around them, winding through their bodies, holding them snug in a white, skeletal embrace. No blood. Their eyes darted about madly, wide open—definitely alive. Just... properly stuck.

Barn had finally found them—the Valar Rats Lotte had told me to sink my teeth into.

I felt a pang of sympathy, deep down. A whisper, somewhere in my mind, telling me what I was about to do was horrifically wrong. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t a proper hunt. Did I even deserve this?

But I didn’t have the luxury of listening to that voice. No, there was another one, much louder, manic even.

Magic.

Magic was right there, within my grasp.

Dangling like a tantalizing treat.

Eighteen years of longing crashed through any hesitation. Their misery would be short-lived, over soon enough. But still...

"Are they hurting...?" I asked Barn, my eyes fixed on the twisted tree of bones.

The sound of bones creaking and knitting answered just as usual. “No. Restrained. No magic.”

I was glad.

I turned my focus back to the screen—only one last upgrade left. Then, finally, I’d start my evolution.

I opened the Fire Gland upgrades.

 

Fire Gland +5 Advancement Options

Choose one of the following:

• Mana Efficiency: Enhances the conversion efficiency of internal mana into fire mana, allowing the user to generate more potent flames with reduced mana expenditure.

• Mana Compression: Improves the user's ability to compress fire mana within the gland, resulting in more intense and focused bursts of flame with increased destructive power.

• Mana Reservoir: Expands the storage capacity of fire mana within the gland, enabling the user to retain more fire mana simultaneously, allowing for prolonged use of flames without the need for immediate regeneration.

• Mana Surge: Augments the user's capability to release fire mana rapidly, facilitating quick succession flame attacks or a sudden, concentrated burst of heat.

• Controlled Conversion: Refines the user's ability to precisely control the conversion of internal mana into fire mana, allowing for better regulation of flame intensity and duration.

 

Ah, now this was a proper mana-centric upgrade!

I hadn’t even tried using my fire gland yet—not a drop of internal mana to my name, after all. But now my doubts were flaring up (pun entirely intended). It really seemed like I’d be spewing flames from… well… somewhere. I vaguely recalled those Amber Lizards had a rather ungraceful method of doing it… from their, er, posterior. Good grief, no thank you!

I gave my head a firm shake, banishing that nightmare of a thought. Right, on to the options then.

First up: Mana Efficiency. Sounded quite sensible. The idea was to make my conversion of internal mana to fire mana a more well-oiled process. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but if I understood it right, I’d be squeezing more fire out of less mana. It made perfect sense on parchment, but there was one teeny-tiny problem: I had no clue just how efficient this upgrade would be. Oh, for a handy little chart or some percentages! I was going to have to make a guess and, quite possibly, throw myself at the mercy of Lady Luck.

Efficient flames sounded like a lovely bargain—more blaze for my buck, if one will. But without knowing the exact numbers, I wasn’t about to make any rash decisions. Time to explore the next option.

Barn suddenly curled tighter around my wrist. I looked at him—still fixated on his bone tree. Hmm? What was that about?

Nothing, probably.

I tore my eyes away from him and shifted to the second option: Mana Compression.

Now this was intriguing. If the description wasn’t telling porkies, this one involved squeezing the fire mana into tighter, more potent bursts. More intensity, less fluff—like shooting out a powerful jet of fire! A mini flamethrower, but from where?

Thalador preserve me, not my rear end, surely! Ahem. Moving on.

On the surface, Mana Compression was rather tempting. A concentrated, more intense flame? That certainly tickled my fancy more than the Efficiency option. But I wasn’t ready to make a choice just yet.

And then, oh then, there was Mana Reservoir. Hooo boy!

Why were they all so bloody brilliant? I wanted every single one, right there and then!

This one promised more fire mana storage. Wasn’t hard to picture—I’d be belching out flames left, right, and center, but instead of running out of juice after a few bursts, I’d have a lovely extra tank of fire mana just waiting to be tapped into. Fire, pause, recharge? Oh no, none of that nonsense. This was fire, fire, fire—no timeouts, no breathers, just relentless flamey goodness.

I could practically feel my heart racing. I wanted this. NOW! But no, Jade, don’t be hasty! A wise dragon doesn’t rush headlong into things. Must assess all options before deciding. Be cool, calm, collected… and absolutely not setting anything ablaze just after getting mana.

The fourth option, Mana Surge. Now, I’d be really honest here—umm, how was this supposed to work? I hadn’t the foggiest. Not even a smidge. I could read what it said, of course, but having never actually fiddled with this gland, the whole concept remained hazy at best.

According to the description, though—quick-fire bursts of flame or a rather spicy surge of heat? It had a certain charm in theory, sure. Apparently, there was a bit of a kerfuffle with the fire mana resisting its own release, and this option would... smooth things over?

Seemed logical enough. In essence, rapid-fire attacks in a flurry or one enormous fiery kaboom to end it all. Aggressive, sure, but was it, umm… sustainable? And was I even remotely right in my assumptions? I hadn’t the faintest clue how much resistance we were talking about, or if it was even necessary. Rather like the flexible scales upgrade, really—I was getting along just fine with the ones I had.

So, onwards I went.

Controlled Conversion. The name alone had me buzzing. I’d always been a fan of tinkering, whether it was alchemy, enchanting, or anything requiring a bit of finesse. This upgrade promised to sharpen my control over the flame, adjusting its intensity and duration with a flick of precision. Oh yes, this one felt practical. Especially useful if a little subtlety was required. Less about raw, untamed power, and more about refining the craft. Not the flashiest upgrade, of course, but the sort of thing I’d definitely pick if I weren’t smack in the middle of a dungeon. A solid, long-term investment, that one.

But truth be told, the choice wasn’t even close. There was just one option that screamed at me from the top of a metaphorical hill, one I knew I’d never regret: Extra Mana Storage.

Yes, my very first real mana upgrade—Mana Reservoir.

My heart was practically doing a jig. This one wasn’t just an upgrade; it was something altogether more grand. It felt... special. And with my mind made up, I eagerly locked in the choice and braced myself for the inevitable pain.

Ah, the pain! There I was, grinning like a loon as my chest felt like a pincushion for a thousand tiny, stabby blades. But I welcomed it—because now, now it was time for the next phase.

My first-ever evolution awaited.

So did magic.

Soon.