The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

 

 

The grating noise persisted. Constant, unnerving. Rusty hinges—laughter. I knew it. No, I understood it. Twisted, unmistakable.

Her head locked on me, but the sound—that sound—was hers.

Then she spoke. Low, guttural, grinding. Not laughter, but close. Like rocks, scraping against one another. No words. Only sounds, relaying meaning.

Fragmented.

A picture painted.

No pity.

It wasn’t for me. Her eyeless gaze shifted, fixing above me. Right at Barn.

No restraints. No mercy.

My thoughts raced, assembling pieces. And then, clarity. I knew what she wanted.

This wasn’t about survival anymore. No. She wanted a culmination, a proper end to this hunt—Barn’s hunt. Her noise, jagged as it was, carried an emotion I couldn’t ignore.

The challenge wasn’t mine.

It was his.

She didn’t want me to save her. That wasn’t the point. What she wanted—needed—was the fight. The chase. The thrill. To end it on her terms, not bound like this. If defeated? She growled again. End me. No half measures.

I froze.

I didn’t understand her. Maybe it was because I was a coward.

Why face oblivion when you can cower and scrape by? Why ask for a final fight you cannot win?

But she did. She would. And somehow, I knew. She’d rather face death than stay like this—helpless.

Her gaze. Hard. Unyielding. Demanded it.

Release me. Face me. End me right.

Again, directed at Barn.

I took a breath, steadying my shaking thoughts. Why did I even understand her this well? Maybe the dragon in me understood her best. This primal need for a true hunt. The idea of her being restrained, denied her final challenge—it grated against everything in me.

But to kill her outright? No. My core rebelled against it.

There wasn’t a decision to make. If this is what she craved, what she demanded, who was I to deny her? I locked eyes with Barn and gave a curt nod. He understood. These cramped tunnels wouldn’t do for what was coming. No, I had a better location in mind.

The logic of it all—cold, calculated—left a foul taste in my mouth, and my insides churned with rage at my own practicality. But if those blasted cultists had indeed thrown their lot in with the elves, they’d need an explanation for the carnage that had unfolded down here. Why their pitiful little ritual had failed, why no one had survived. A clash of titans ought to cover it nicely.

A wicked grin curled across my face as the dragon within snarled at my audacity. Not today, Miss Vanity. Today, it’s Miss Sensibility’s turn.

"Let’s find somewhere a bit more...spacious," I said to the bound beast. "A forest, perhaps?"

 

***

 

Claws dug into the earth as I made my slow ascent. Yet, curiously, my paws weren't quite meeting the soil. A veil of sorts, a barrier. Some trickery of Barn's, no doubt. Even with my claws burrowed in, they remained unsoiled. A smirk crept across my face as I climbed. Barn's protection was still with me.

I was scaling the dungeon’s second opening, the one Barn had crafted earlier. As for Barn and Her... well, I hadn't settled on a name for her yet. There was an air about the way she spoke, something regal and dignified. Despite the grim fate awaiting her, I couldn't help but feel a touch of admiration. She had a certain majesty. Queen, perhaps? Yes, Queen seemed fitting.

The exit loomed closer, branches and foliage carefully obscuring it. I peeled away the camouflage and pulled myself free. Staying within the dungeon during what was about to unfold simply wouldn’t do.

Then, as my claws touched the grass of the clearing—BOOM!

An explosion reverberated from the depths below. The ground shook violently, and the forest around me erupted into chaos. From the trees burst forth monstrous vultures with ebony feathers, kites with razor-sharp wings, gargantuan bat-like creatures with talons like knives and other aerial monsters. For a heartbeat, they didn't turn on each other; they were all just intent on escape. I unfurled my own wings, joining the exodus, rising higher to survey the pandemonium.

The forest spread out beneath me, vast and wild. The higher I soared, the more the world revealed itself. While the other creatures darted past in a frenzy, I hovered, ascending ever higher, where the sky’s boundless expanse welcomed me once more.

Ah, the air up here—cool, crisp, tinged with the scent of dawn. The sun was nudging its way over the eastern horizon, casting a blood-red hue through the clouds.

The ground trembled again, a shudder rippling through the earth as the behemoths below clashed at the ritual site, just as I’d planned. The rumbling persisted—once, twice—something enormous was thrashing within the bowels of the earth.

But my eyes were fixed on the fortress—the elven knights of House Valendris, as Yaroslav had described. I could just make out silhouettes, humanoid figures, darting around the fortress.

What they were up to was anyone's guess. Yet, something stood out. Wings of light unfurled, silver armour gleaming in that luminous glow. Five, maybe six of them, flitting through the air. There were other noises, likely shouts or commands, though I was too far to catch them. Not that it mattered. Keeping my distance was essential.

The fortress stood as a stone monolith, its thick walls reinforced with metallic plating. Tall, narrow windows lined the exterior, though given the increasing number of knights armed with bows gathering behind them, they seemed more suited for archers than for allowing light in. The battlements were crowned with spikes, and the only visible entrance—a heavy stone gate—was securely bolted. As for the dungeon entrance, I hadn’t the faintest clue where it might be; perhaps it lay deeper within, where they could regulate who entered and left. Perhaps it was even used to slay the creatures bold enough to stray outside.

I hovered in place, sensing the air with my Air sense and making micro-adjustments with my wings, altering air pressure and wing angles to maintain a steady position. It was effortless, just hovering in one spot. The Level 5 flight skill greatly improved my ability to remain still, masterfully controlling turbulence and airflow. And in doing so, I could already feel my scales shifting hue, blending into the soft colours of the morning sky. I doubted the elves would be paying much attention to what forest-dwelling creatures were up to, not with the greater danger lurking beneath them. Still, better to err on the side of caution. I resolved to be as stealthy as possible.

BOOM. Another tremor. Stronger this time. The ground beneath pulsed, shuddering like some colossal, living thing. The elves on the ground faltered, stumbling where they stood.

What were they feeling in that moment? I couldn’t say. But they should be safe enough, provided they possessed even a scrap of survival instinct and didn’t end up caught between Barn and Queen’s battle.

Yet one of the knights caught my eye. One of the five adorned with those wings of light. Clad in grey armour, perhaps some Orichalcum alloy plated with gold. He, along with the four flying behind him—likely his subordinates—moved in a direct line.

He halted, barked something, and the four scattered. They each conjured staffs out of thin air, with the lead knight at the centre, the focal point of it all, right where Barn and the Queen clashed. The ground trembled once more, and without hesitation, they began. Sigils began to swirl around each of them as they channeled their magic. My eyes widened—five people, all likely red core, given their confidence in the face of such earth-shaking power—working in unison to channel a single spell. I was immediately fascinated, and part of me instinctively began analysing the sigils that floated in the air, forming spell matrices around them.

Two parallel lines appeared, each embedded with distinct sigils. At the vertices, script formed—a mana-sharing matrix, perhaps. The lead knight raised his staff, murmuring another incantation. As he did, geometric shapes locked into place around him—a triangle at the base, arcs connecting the points, all encased within a larger circle. Hmm?

The more I studied it, the more baffled I became. Was this a shield? A sealing spell? Or perhaps some kind of channeled attack? Bah! I really needed to stop obsessing over elven magic.

By now, more knights had begun gathering on the ground, preparing for whatever was unfolding, even as the unrelenting rumble of the earth beneath them caused unease. Though I remained distant, I could still sense the prevailing emotions. This tension and uncertainty. Almost tangible. Electric. They knew something was amiss, but couldn’t grasp exactly what. Perhaps even the sharp, searching glances they exchanged betrayed them.

The ground trembled once more, and with it, the undercurrent of unease deepened. It seemed they were attempting to form up—hurriedly, yet with effort. Commands were barked, and they spread out, surrounding what they believed to be the origin of the disturbance. Their stances were steady, swords drawn, tips catching the glow of magic. Flames danced along some blades, while others shimmered with the icy blue of frost. A few radiated shadowy mists or sparked with lightning—elemental infusions of all kinds.

Then the earth shook again, but this time fissures splintered across the forest floor. Whatever was coming, it had begun. Another fresh wave of apprehension.

Another deafening boom. Louder. The cracks widened, the ground buckling under the strain. Above, the knights with wings of light had finished channelling their spells; massive matrices swirled around them before a barrier of pure white light formed, enclosing the source of the tremors.

But I knew better. They weren’t ready for this. They couldn’t be. The real threat wasn’t here—at least, not yet. It was beneath them, much deeper, and it was approaching rapidly. Another entrance to the dungeon was about to force its way through.

And soon enough, it happened. A ray, dark and pure, erupted from the earth, shattering the barrier as though it were made of glass. The ensuing shockwave tore through the air, and the gust that followed almost knocked me off balance mid-flight. I barely managed to maintain my position, wings instinctively angling and adjusting for turbulence. Body tilting to minimize the sudden force. A precise interplay of muscles in my wings and back helped stabilize me once again.

The sky went quiet.

And then the earth split.

Barn appeared first. His true form—finally revealed. I’d never really seen him like this. Not fully.

Icy dread prickled my skin, crawling up my spine. But I didn’t freeze. Maybe I was too far. Maybe the contract between us shielded me somehow.

Even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. His true form was… beautiful. In a way that twisted the very meaning of the word.

A massive skeletal serpent. Far more immense than when he’d shown himself to the cultists. His bones shimmered—translucent, like glass, but darker. Something more sinister. Like a painting on the edge of existence, not yet fully realized. The more I stared, the more it shifted. Warped. Sometimes darker, sometimes lighter.

Wherever his form touched the earth, things just... ceased.

Grass withered. Trees sagged. Entire patches of the forest simply blinked out of existence. Gone.

His eyes locked on me. Wide. His jaw cracked open three times, a thunderous cackle echoing pure joy.

He was enjoying this.

One thing caught my eye—the mirror. A massive, hovering mirror encircled by his skeletal coils. It spun slowly, catching glimpses of the forest. Whatever it reflected twisted. Distorted. I couldn’t make sense of it. Each image flickered, warped.

I saw myself.

Or was it?

It wasn’t me.

Was that real? I had no idea.

But I had no time to dwell on it.

Queen followed.

She didn’t erupt from the earth. No. She bent space around her.

A spatial monster? My eyes widened.

One second, the forest around Barn was whole. The next—it was fractured. Shattered. Like shards of glass.

And between those cracks, she slithered. A silhouette of shifting shadows, slipping through the gaps. Right behind Barn.

Her tail shot forward. Lightning fast. Aimed for his head.

Barn’s mirror spun. Space warped. The tail vanished. Reappeared above Barn’s head.

What followed was too fast to track.

The mirror kept shifting. The forest blinked out of existence in patches, only to reappear. Barn didn’t move. Not once.

Queen darted through space. One second here. Another second, gone. The world was a curtain, and she flitted through it—using it to strike. To hunt.

Rays of destruction erupted from her. The forest exploded, turned to charred ruin. Her claws, her teeth, her tail—every strike slicked with poison, all aimed at Barn.

But every time, the mirror moved. Reflected. Warped space.

I couldn’t grasp what it was doing.

This was a hunt on a scale beyond my understanding.

But I couldn’t look away.

I knew Barn was holding back. He had to. I’d asked him to. To give her this. Her final hunt. Her last chance to give everything.

And she was.

The spatial magic she wielded... she had to be high Red core. Close to Gold, perhaps.

But this fight—it was the chaos I needed.

The Elves. Some were frozen. The moment they laid eyes on Barn, they froze.

The knights with wings of light fell, collapsing when he erupted from the ground. Only one remained aloft—the leader. But even he wasn’t attacking. He was helping his comrades, pulling back, retreating.

Screams echoed.

The frozen knights were dragged away. Their eyes shielded by comrades as they fled back toward the fortress.

There was no fight to be had. Not unless they had a Gold rank among them.

Another crash. My gaze snapped back.

Queen was on the ground.

Barn’s mirror shifted—reflecting her.

For a moment, she was frozen there, her form warped in the reflection.

Then she vanished.

And the forest around her... ceased to exist.

It started again.

A blur of motion. Too fast for my eyes to follow. Their battle consumed what was left of the forest, dragging it into their chaotic dance.

Barn lashed out, his mirror spinning faster, warping space, reflecting things that didn’t belong. Each time it captured Queen in its reflection, she would vanish—gone for a split second, only to reappear somewhere else.

Most of the forest was gone now. Erased.

Queen darted through the folds of space, trying to land a single attack. Each attempt failed. Her claws, her tail, her teeth—all useless. Even the black beams of destruction that she fired from her mouth dissolved before they could reach him.

The fight would end soon.

Where before her movements were a blur, now... now I could see. It wasn’t much. A flicker. A difference. But she was slowing down. The exhaustion was creeping in.

Barn still hadn’t moved. Not once.

His mirror shifted, catching her reflection again. She vanished. This time, not even enough time to strike. She was conserving her energy. Just to evade. But that wouldn’t last.

It couldn’t.

Then, finally... it happened.

Tired. Slipping. The curtains of space faltered.

Her form reflected in Barn’s mirror.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t muster even an inch. Only then did I notice the cuts.

Everywhere. All over her.

When had Barn...?

I never saw him attack. He’d done nothing but shift that mirror, disintegrating everything around them.

But she was so wounded.

And just like that, she collapsed.

Her majestic form was there again. Before me. This time, no restraints. No indignity. She was free.

She looked up at the mirror.

And my heart lodged in my throat.

She wanted this.

This free end.

One final hunt.

Her eyeless face stared into the mirror, a strange glee in the curve of her body.

And then... that roar again.

Low. Guttural.

One word.

Thank you.

And then she was gone.

Erased. Like everything else that touched Barn’s mirror.

 

***

 

It was the same blasted mirror. The very one that had slinked Barn into being, and the one I’d used for that infernal ritual. Now, it floated before me, swirling like a menacing black vortex, as though it were the portal to something far darker than my poor brain could ever conjure.

Barn stood there, his gaze fixed on me—those ridiculous, painted-on eyes as adorable as ever, but now… there was a hint of something new. A glimmer of sadness, perhaps.

I knew what that look meant. He’d burned through more of his chaos—far more than either of us had anticipated—and in doing so, had sliced down his already short time with me to mere crumbs.

But that was fine...

I suppose I should’ve felt something. Grief? Guilt, at the very least. But no, I was numb as a gravestone. Explaining my bond with Barn was like trying to knit fog. Was it just fear, the same terror that Lotte had stitched into his soul and passed onto me? Or was there something else lurking beneath the surface, something deeper that I hadn’t quite grasped?

Fear was a weapon, that much I knew. Dominance was carved from terror, shaping minds and bending wills like wet clay. Was that all Barn was? Just a creature beaten into submission by Lotte and delivered to me? If it was just fear binding us, it would make sense, all neat and tidy.

But what twisted my guts was the affection. That warmth I felt from him, despite his ghoulish form. His loyalty wasn’t just about cowering obedience—it was far more complex. Affection and dominance, they’re like chalk and cheese. Fear keeps creatures tethered, yes—but not like this. Not with the way Barn looked at me now, with such sad eyes, as though the idea of leaving me was the worst of fates. Fear makes you follow orders, sure, but it doesn’t make you seek comfort or protection.

Barn’s loyalty, his gaze, the way he responded to my every command—it all felt so… genuine. Not forced. Not coerced.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

But time was ticking. He was shrinking, bit by bit, like the last dribbles of a candle melting away. Whatever chaos he had left couldn’t even hold him together anymore. The mirror’s abyss swirled faster now, the gateway to the Netherworld opening wider.

Barn looked back at the mirror, then back at me, as if he had no desire to return to that dreadful place.

I stepped closer and gently cradled his small, shrinking form. Whatever the source of his affection, I wanted him to know it was reciprocated. For everything he’d done for me, I wouldn’t forget.

“Maybe one day, when I’ve gathered enough mana and I’m strong enough to keep you here, I’ll summon you again.”

His eyes widened, painted though they were, and for a moment, I could swear he almost looked hopeful.

“You’d come back, wouldn’t you?” I asked, almost pleading.

He bobbed his head furiously in an exaggerated nod, looking for all the world like a cartoon character. I nearly laughed. Silly Barn.

“Then wait for me. I’ll work hard to get that strength.”

With that, I brought my paw to my mouth and bit down, drawing blood. This was Barn’s prize, according to Lotte—a few drops of my blood. It felt absurd in comparison to everything he’d done. He opened his fake mouth, eager as ever, and I let a few drops land on the fabric where his lips would be. They were absorbed instantly.

And then he was off—shooting out of my hands like a missile, clattering his jaws with manic glee.

Suddenly, massive tendrils burst from the mirror. I staggered back, but they weren’t after me. They wrapped themselves around Barn, pulling him slowly back into the swirling abyss.

Just before he was fully drawn in, one final clack of his jaws echoed in my mind. For the first time, it formed a clear sentence.

“I’ll be waiting.”

“And I’ll be preparing!” I shouted back as the last of him disappeared into the mirror.