The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

I awoke to a sharp pain gnawing in my innards. Vision blurring at the edges, twisting, the world shifting between shades of red and black. My chest… heavy. Breathing… shallow.

What… just happened? I… was preparing a Quick Dash when… I lost my vision. Something else hit me. Other than fireball.

Another breathing a searing gasp. Pain, all around my body. Couldn’t… think clearly. No… No… Get a goddamned grip. But vision was slipping once again.

Flashes—feathers. Heat. Smell of blood. So much blood.

Something sharp dug into my side. No… not just sharp. Tearing. Pain immediately bought the focus back. Eyes groggily opened once again, trying to focus, the sensation repeating once again. Sharp. Jagged. Like something was… sawing through me.

The thought was enough. Danger. I was in danger. Fragmanted thoughts started to pull together as a surge of panic and anger awoke the adrenaline inside. Vision sharpened once again, the hues blinking in existence.

Another tear. I felt before I saw. A shadow… claws. Talons? Yes. A beak.

I twisted, claws sunk in, digging into my abdomen. Another searing sensation of pain.

My eyes snapped wide open, the haze lifting in a storm of burning fury.

My once gleaming scales were now blackened, my skin scorched. One eye wouldn’t even open, vision lost. Every bone felt shattered, every breath a torment.

Then it hit me—I wasn’t even on the ground. The filthy creature had me pinned, its mangy claws gripping my broken form, dangling me like a ragged carcass over a thick branch as it feasted—on me.

Another scorching wave of agony as that wretched beak stabbed deeper into my insides. It was eating me. Not just attacking—eating me alive.

That was it.

A searing, blinding rage ignited within me. This filthy, feathered vermin DARED to lay its rancid claws on me? Dared to treat ME as prey?

On instinct, my fire gland flared to life, mana coursing through my exhausted body, stamina flooding into my claws, crackling with untamed, furious power.

The heat of anger exploded within me, igniting every nerve, every muscle.

My claws twitched, flexing as fury consumed every inch of my battered body. The vulture—oblivious, filthy—thought I was dead. Its greedy beak tore through my flesh, savoring each bite like I was just another meal.

Ahh, it was enjoying itself.

I waited. It chewed.

I waited. It savored.

And I waited… until the moment came.

My flesh, too tempting to resist, lured the beast into one final mistake. Its beak edged closer, closer still, until it dug into me once again. This time, it would regret every second.

SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKER!

The flare sparked, and the air around us hissed—scorched by the fire building within my gland. The vulture’s screech echoed across the battlefield as I unleashed it. Molten flames erupted, consuming its disgusting head in a torrent of heat, blistering and violent. Feathers blackened, curled, and burned away in an instant. Its eyes—charred, molten orbs—popped as its skin sizzled and flesh melted.

Delicious.

Its shrieks were music to my ears. Pure, agonized, visceral screams.

Ahhh!

KRRRRRRRRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Now was my chance. I twisted, claws slashing upward in a flurry of movement. Stamina surged violently through them. Echo Claw. Flesh tore. Feathers scattered. The echo followed. Tearing through its innards once again.

The vulture screeched again, its voice raw and ragged—but I wasn’t done. Not yet. Not by a bloody long shot.

SCREAM, YOU WRETCH! SCREECH LIKE THE WORTHLESS FILTH YOU ARE! LET ME DRINK IN EVERY LAST DROP OF YOUR MISERABLE PAIN!

Another breath—another burst of flame—searing through its fresh wounds. The vulture's claws slackened, losing their grip on my broken body. It was my turn now. My jaws snapped forward, fangs finding their mark.

Spectral Crunch.

Teeth sank into its scorched wing, the crack of bone beneath my bite sending another wave of satisfying agony through the vulture. Its scream filled the air again, and my heart raced with exhilaration.

YES! More screams. More suffering.

I held tight, claws dug deep into its hide as I yanked—ripped its wing clean off with a sickening tear. The creature’s body slackened entirely, the pull of gravity taking us both as we plummeted to the ground.

Falling.

We hit the ground with a thud, pain shooting through my own body—it hurt—but the thrill, the manic glee kept me going. My body felt broken, but I crawled toward the vulture, tongue lolling in sadistic glee as its desperate filthy claws flailed weakly at me.

PATHETIC. WEAK.

It was nothing. Less than nothing. I hovered over it, eyes wide, breath ragged. And then—another burst of flame.

MORE SCREAMS!

The fire surged again, swallowing the wretched form whole. The stench of burnt flesh, blood—thick in the air. Fire gland? Drained. Mana? Still plenty.

MORE FIRE!

I pushed the flames harder, my fire gland protesting, heat searing my own skin.

MORE SCREAMS!

It kept howling. Good. More mana into the flames. The inferno raged on.

But the vulture’s cries began to weaken, its twitching slowing down.

No.

NO!

Where were the screams? Where was the agony I craved? I needed more—more fire, more pain. But…

The fire gland was empty.

MORE FIRE!

I bellowed, furious. No more flames? Really?

Snarling, I searched inside for more! But I was tapped out, mana gone, drained dry. And yet the hunger, the rage, still demanded. I glared at the charred husk of the vulture as it lay there, limp, lifeless.

SCREAM! I snarled, crushing the pitiful remains with my claws. I DEMAND IT!

Nothing. Just smouldering, silent ashes. How dare they not scream.

SCREAM YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF FILTH!

I wanted to burn the earth itself. But my body, battered beyond recognition, refused to comply. No more fire. No mana.

My breaths came in jagged bursts, but the fury refused to fade.

Hah…

I collapsed, barely breathing. And for a moment, I simply stayed there.

Ashes.

Empty. Hollow.

No more fire. Just… stillness.

Why… didn’t they scream?

I rolled my head through the ashes, the warmth soothing in a strange, comforting way. Ahh… my rage fed on resistance, on the thrill of defiance. But now? Now that there was none, now that the vulture lay as a heap of smoldering ruin beneath me? It all …slipped away. Slowly.

Mmm… these warm ashes.

As the fury ebbed, my mind slunk back into something resembling normality. I lay there, dazed, doing nothing, the adrenaline fading along with the fire.

Something was beneath my head. I blinked, lifting my jaw sluggishly. Ahh… a swirling marble of darkness, faintly glowing beneath the soot. Monster core. I picked it up lazily and tossed it into my mouth, the jolt of energy settling in my chest. With it, the system notifications blinked on.

There were many of them—kill notification, maximum mana increase. Flamethrower had levelled up. But one message caught my eye, standing out against the rest.

Not a notification—a mission.

 

Mission Alert!

Ahh, you've been wounded, ambushed by low-life thieves wielding stolen power! Surely, you’re not going to let them slither away unscathed?

Objective: ELF ERADICATION!
Task: Exterminate every thieving wretch you detected earlier. RIP THEM TO SHREDS!
Reward: +1 Skill Point per elf killed. Bonus: +1 Technique recipe after all four are dealt with. The more creative the carnage, the higher the chance for extra rewards!
Progress: 0/4
Penalty: None.
Accept: Y/N?

 

I stared at the words, waiting for that familiar spark—the rage, the hunger for revenge—but instead, there was only hollowness. Just... nothing. No spark, no fury. The empty feeling lingered as I dismissed the message.

For now, it could wait.

My attention shifted to the scene around me as I activated Air Sense. The subtle shift in the air painted a picture of the battlefield, revealing the hidden monsters skulking about. None seemed particularly interested in me—for the moment, at least.

Through the trees, I could still see the aftermath of the chaos. The battlefield stretched out ahead, a massive scorch mark—shallow, but impressively wide—etched the spot where I’d once stood. Two colossal craters lay nearby, still faintly smoking from the fireballs that had rained down from above.

Fire magic. Not exactly imaginative, but undeniably effective. Low yellow core, judging by the raw power. Fire mana—great for destruction, rubbish for finesse.

Several unfortunate monsters had been caught in the blast, burnt to a crisp and crushed beneath the raw force. I must’ve tried to trigger Quick Dash before the second fireball hit. Maybe I did. Not fast enough, evidently.

I glanced down at my battered body. My throat felt raw, the inside of my mouth dry, though not charred—an innate immunity to my own heat, perhaps. Still, the rest of me was a wreck. One side burned, several ribs broken, and my hind leg... it refused to move properly. Each attempt sent a sharp pain shooting through my nerves.

I was bleeding. The gaping wound where that vulture had been feasting on my flesh throbbed with every movement. Disgusting vermin. I glanced around, half-delirious, searching for something—anything—to help. I would've healed by now if I hadn't given in to that blind fury, and left the vulture's body intact. It had been large enough to heal me after feeding on it.

But now?

Just ashes. Nothing but scorched earth and the stench of death.

And my mana… drained to the dregs.

FUCK.

I growled, my frustration bubbling again. I needed to replenish, needed to recenter. So, I did what I had to. Dragging myself toward a nearby bush, each pull of my limbs sending waves of pain through my broken body, I activated Core Stabilization.

Little by little, I felt the mana trickle back into me, a faint glow of strength returning to my core. It wasn’t fast, but it was something. And it gave me a moment to breathe, to think.

What the hell had I just done?

Images of the vulture’s pain played through my mind like a vivid nightmare, each scene replaying over and over. The thrill I had felt, the satisfaction at its suffering, gnawed at me now. It had been its bite—its claws digging into me—that sparked the rage. But something about my reaction felt… off.

I wasn’t like that. Was I?

I had never enjoyed anyone’s suffering before. The hunt was the hunt, it should end clean. Swift.

Or… was I like that?

The question lingered, unanswered. Now, the memory of it felt wrong, unsettling, but in that moment… it had felt oh so right. Where had that sheer malevolence come from? The hunger to inflict pain? I didn’t know. Like so many things about this place, about me, I didn’t have the answer.

I curled over my battered form, focusing on my mana recovery. Time passed in a blur, my Air Sense scanning the area constantly. Every creature in my vicinity—every shape, every breath—mapped itself out, though none moved toward me.

Until one did.

A new breath signature entered my range. Slow, deliberate. Moving cautiously. My focus narrowed. Close now, I could pick out more details from its breathing pattern, its gait, the way the air shifted around it. A quadruped, light-footed.

A wolf.

Maybe not the same one that had eyed me when I ventured out before. Maybe. But the same species, certainly. My senses flared.

Yet, a wave of hesitation washed over me. Lingering. Pah. Really? Was I going to stop hunting because something primal and ugly had awoken within me? Because it dragged out some… malevolent part? Was I seriously going to let that stop me now?

HELL NO.

I recentered myself, claws flexing. I had a goal—get stronger, evolve, build enough mana to regain my Drakarri form. I had no time for useless musings.

That was dungeon’s first rule after all. Everything here is out to kill and devour.

And I would be a fool to question that.

The wolf inched closer, and I couldn't ignore the feeling bubbling up once again—exhilaration. Glee.

I sprawled on the floor, letting my body relax into the dirt, playing the part. Steadying my breath, I activated Stealth. My chest rose and fell in a slow, practiced rhythm. Even the thunderous pounding of my heart dulled, masking my presence.

The wolf emerged, eyes sharp with hunger. A predator. Oh, yes. I knew that look well. I was its next meal.

Ahh, what a pitiful sight it must’ve been. A broken dragon, too small for its level. Even this wolf, with its hulking frame, was bulkier than me. So much bigger. Stronger. I dragged myself across the ground, my claws digging weakly into the dirt. Each movement sluggish, deliberate. I wanted it to believe I was weak. I wanted it to think I was easy prey.

And the fool did.

What a graceful fella. No hesitation. No brain cells either.

The moment it leapt into the air, its body soaring toward me with all the grace of a seasoned killer, my stance shifted in a blink.

Quick Dash

My one good hind leg thrust me forward, positioning me beneath it. Claws out, I tore through its underbelly using the momentum from Quick Dash. Flesh ripped apart with a delicious crunch. Echo followed, magnifying the carnage. It didn’t even manage a whimper before my tail whipped out, coiling around its snout and yanking it down. With a bone-shattering thud, it hit the ground, dazed and confused.

The hunter had become the hunted.

Spectral Crunch—I bit down on its throat, tearing through flesh and sinew in one swift, brutal motion. Its life ended before it could even register what had happened.

[You have slain a Level 2 Lupinor Canivorax Adolescentus (III).]
[Experience Points acquired.]

Ahh, the charm of being an ambush predator. Quick, efficient, and blood-soaked. But no time to gloat—I needed to heal. So, with all dignity out the window, I ripped into its carcass like a starving beast.