The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

Stephan sat there, looking utterly bewildered, but—true to form—not a word passed his lips about my rather peculiar line of questioning. Perhaps he suspected I was onto something. I could almost hear the rusty old cogs grinding away in his head—well, probably. The man had this infuriating habit of keeping whatever harebrained thoughts were bouncing around in that skull of his to himself. Always hesitating, for reasons only he knew.

Not today though. Oh no, today I was determined to dig out whatever nugget of knowledge he was hoarding.

But before I could push further, Barn piped up, treating me to his usual bone-scraping symphony. Again, not a twitch from Stephan. Yep, that settled it—only I had the dubious honour of hearing the clattering clacks of my skeletal companion. Quite handy, that.

I started connecting the dots, sorting out the jumble of details Barn was feeding me in his typically scattered fashion. Clearing my throat, I spoke up: "Their uniforms had... a crest, of sorts. A silver stag, mid-leap, over a shape—curved, like a crescent moon, maybe? Embroidered in gold, no less. And beneath the armour, lined with deep crimson velvet. I may be missing a few bits here and there, but that should paint you a picture."

I hadn’t the foggiest idea what it all meant, but I had a sneaky suspicion Stephan might. After all, he came from some ‘sect’ near the border. He knew about this labyrinth—seemed rather familiar with it, in fact. Come to think of it, I’d never actually asked where he'd been kidnapped from. There was all that business with his family being slaughtered, so maybe I’d avoided the topic without realising.

As I finished recounting the details, I noticed Stephan's brows knotting together in that way of his. Ah, hope fluttered in my chest like a caged bird.

"Anything on your mind?" I asked, gently nudging him.

"Ahh, it’s just… the description you gave me, it matches the Elven knights from the House of Valendris. They’re the ones who oversee the borders. And if this fortress is at the entrance to the dungeon, then yes, I’m fairly certain I know where we are. But…"

Ah, there it was—the “but.” Always a “but.”

"But...?" I shot back, practically vibrating with impatience. For the love of all things holy, man, just spit it out!

"Why are we being so cautious around them? They’re the official knights of House Valendris, after all. Shouldn’t I just pop up there and report what’s happened down here?"

Now, I don’t know what sort of face I made, but judging by the way he recoiled like he'd bitten into a lemon, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

I let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Right, two things. First: how, pray tell, are you planning to explain the carnage down here? Every single cultist met a demise so ghastly, there’s not even a fingernail left to show for it. And you? The lone survivor? You gonna prance up there and tell them you were rescued by some divine act of mercy? Engage your brain for a moment. What do you reckon they’ll do to you? Give you a pat on the back and send you on your merry way?"

His face contorted like he'd just realised he'd been served cold beans for dinner. Reality was sinking in now. The thing about Beastkin? Treatment’s the same wherever you go—dismal at best. And the Elves? Well, their hatred ran deeper than a grave.

I’d never laid eyes on an Elf myself—never had the misfortune—but the rumours? That stuff tended to travel faster than the wind.

‘Lucky you weren’t born in Lethrindel—there, they’ll have your guts for garters before you’ve even drawn your first breath.’

‘Stray too close to their borders, and you’ll end up a decorative head on a spike, skull polished and proudly displayed on some Elf’s mantelpiece.’

‘Better to beg in a human slum than set foot in Elven lands—at least the humans might let you keep your skin.’

Now, sure, those might be tall tales, but every story’s got a kernel of truth buried somewhere in the muck. Wouldn’t fancy testing the waters, personally.

And then there was the second reason. I caught a glimpse of Stephan’s face and, for a moment, hesitated. This next bit—well, I wasn’t entirely sure it was true, but still...

“As for the second reason,” I began, catching Stephan’s attention straight away, “Look, this one’s more of a hunch, something that’s been nagging at me. So, there’s only one way into this cultist hidey-hole, right? A single fortress guarding the dungeon’s entrance, and it’s crawling with—now that we know—knights from the bloody House of Valendris.”

“Erm… was there supposed to be a point to that?”

“For pity's sake, let me finish!” I growled. “You’re not seeing what I’m seeing. This place, Stephan, it’s an absolute treasure trove! The sheer wealth lying around here—ritual tools, those intricate inscriptions, magical paraphernalia—all top-tier stuff. This isn’t some raggedy back-alley cult. No, this is a proper operation. The riches alone, what I’ve seen down here, could buy you generations of luxury in the Aurelia Empire. Are you starting to catch my drift?”

Stephan opened his mouth, then promptly closed it again. Oh, for the love of Thalador!

“DON’T YOU DARE!” I barked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Maybe it was the thunder in my voice, but I had to say it. “You’ve got this maddening habit of bottling up whatever you're thinking. Stop it! I don’t know if you’ve realised, but one’s gut instincts are usually spot on. The second you start overthinking, everything gets muddled with doubt and nonsense. So, just spit it out, man! I need you to be blunt!”

“All right, all right!” he stammered. “I was just trying to gather my thoughts, okay?”

“Like hell you were! This is the fifth time it’s happened, and you’ve yet to say a bloody word! You keep swallowing your thoughts!”

That stopped him in his tracks.

“Well, I didn’t think what I had to say was all that important.”

“Every single one of your thoughts matters, Stephan! Whether they’re important or not, let me be the judge of that!”

He swallowed hard, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, well… I don’t know if what I was going to say matters anymore, but from what you’re implying… are you suggesting these cultists down here might be in cahoots with House Valendris?”

At last! “Put it this way, when all the dots start connecting, the truth practically jumps up and slaps you in the face. Our brains are designed to spot patterns. When everything lines up this neatly, is it really a wild guess? I’ve laid out the whole puzzle for you, and we’ve both arrived at the same blinking conclusion. Doesn’t seem like a mere implication anymore, does it?”

“So… we can’t leave this dungeon?” He finally sighed, a man at the end of his tether.

“Not by that door, that’s for certain. If there’s even a whisper of a chance that we’re right, we can’t hang about down here like a pair of ninnies either.”

“What’s a pair of… ninnies?”

Oh dear, another dream term slipped out. “A pair of… well, fools?”

“Makes sense,” he muttered, rubbing his chin with his… trembling hands? Huh? What was up with that? “Hmm, if they’re really in cahoots, they’d twig something was off sooner or later, wouldn’t they?”

“Precisely! Couldn’t have put it better myself. For all we know, they’re on their way down here right now for a nice little investigation… eh?” I could always ask Barn. Threw the question at him, got a no in response.

“We should be safe for a bit,” I assured Stephan, maybe he was just feeling anxious.

“Another handy titbit from your… ‘guardian’?” He quirked a brow, trying for a grin, but I could see the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes, reflected by those hues.

“Yes,” I rasped, “but we’ve still got a chance. Well, you’ve still got a chance. I promised, didn’t I? Maybe not to you, but to myself—swore I’d find a way out and make sure you’re safe. It’s just… ever since I became, well, this, my thoughts are like a knotted mess.” I attempted a laugh as I walked, but it came out as a wheezy croak.

Instead of walking alongside me, he just stood there, stiff as a statue. If he stayed any longer, I half-expected pigeons to land on his head. “What would I even do… after getting up there?” His voice cracked, and only then did I notice the tears—quiet little rivers carving paths down his dirt-streaked face.

“Hah, I’m sorry,” he said with a breathless laugh, swiping at the tears like they were an afterthought. But his hands trembled. “I know you’re trying to save me, but… why bother? I might have a chance—a tiny one—if I head up there. I won’t be shot on sight, at least. So why not let me take my chances? Why risk your life too?”

I squinted at him. Risking my life? For him? Ahh, if only he knew. But that wasn’t the point right now. I had to rewind a bit.

“Wait—what do you mean, ‘What would I even do after getting up there?’” I asked, with a tilt of my head. Too innocent. He needed a push.

“…” He kept quiet, avoiding my eyes like I’d just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Hmm?” I leaned in a little, adding some weight to my voice. A touch of authority never hurt.

He rolled his eyes, new tears pooling up. “I’ve lost everything. What’s left for me? My parents are gone—all dead because of me. The sect wouldn’t even let me linger around, not after this. Maybe I deserve it… for being this weak.”

Weak? I blinked. That was the last word I’d use to describe him. The man had watched his whole world burn, and here he stood, still kicking—well, more or less. I couldn’t imagine losing my father like that. Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine. But… maybe I could help him see it differently.

Stepping closer, I made sure the rubble crunched just enough under my claws to sound… purposeful. I didn’t blurt out my little ace in the hole—not yet. There was something else he needed first.

“You? Weak?” I snorted softly, careful to keep my voice from sounding too sharp. My anatomy wasn't built for gentleness, but I tried. “Stephan, you’re braver than anyone I’ve met.”

He blinked at me, a little bewildered. Maybe it was the way he treated me—or the fact that we shared a kinship. Both beastkins, both kidnapped for sacrifice. But there was more. He had lost everything. And even after all that, he saved me.

“When that blasted white shockwave knocked me out cold, you didn’t even hesitate. Dragged my sorry tail out of there without a second thought—even though I had a hand in what happened to those cultists. Even knowing I’d turned into… well, this.” I gestured to my dragonish form with a toothy grin.

He let out a wheeze of a laugh, so I pressed on.

“You’re not running from fate, Stephan. Someone once told me none of us can outrun it. But here’s the trick: it’s not about escaping it. It’s about how we carry it. And trust me, I know a thing or two about carrying heavy things.” I chuckled.

For a moment, he stared at me, the tears drying up. Was that a flicker of something in his eyes? Bah, maybe I was imagining things.

“...”

“Right!” I wrapped my tail around his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I think you’ve got more reason to keep going than you realize. So pull yourself together, will you? Time to stop blubbering.”

“But still… you’d be risking your life if we go through that entrance!” His voice wavered.

I grinned wide, flashing those nasty curved teeth. “Whoever said we were using that entrance?”