The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

I despised those blasted creepers. Filthy little blighters! All they’d ever given me in this godforsaken dungeon was grief. Every time I crossed paths with them, it was an excruciating ordeal. Bah! Just you wait, you venomous sacks of misery! I pulled back, claws sinking into the stone beneath me.

Sure, I could try legging it past them, but let’s not be daft. Who knew what horrors were lurking further ahead? And while I had strength and stealth in my corner, sneaking past these cretins seemed a touch too dicey. Four of them... even I wasn’t daft enough to fancy my chances in such a suicidal venture.

I wasn’t immune to their toxins, and let’s be honest, I wasn’t about to play fast and loose with my life. Especially not with those wretched barbed tongues of theirs. I always avoided those particular bits when dining on them—far too risky for my liking.

No, a head-on clash was out of the question. I took a step back, an idea already brewing in my mind. Pausing for a moment, I tasted the air, flicking my tongue to catch any familiar scents on the faint breeze. If my hunch was correct… I’d spotted something nearby that might do the trick.

Two creatures in this dungeon had managed to crawl under my skin like no others. First, obviously, were the creepers. My disdain for them had become downright personal. One of the vile creatures had once devoured an entire spider colony, even though it didn’t gain the slightest bit of experience from it.

Ludicrous! Was it showing off? Trying to make a statement? Even when I ate a stage-two monster, it barely gave me a third of a Morphogen. A third! What sort of rubbish was that? If I had the misfortune of eating a stage-one, what would it be—one-ninth? One-twenty-seventh? Ugh, I couldn’t be bothered with the arithmetic. All I knew was that these creepers were sadistic little parasites, preying on the weak instead of facing proper foes. Cowards, the lot of them.

The second menace? Rats. Filthy, slimy, repugnant rats. Always travelling in packs, swarming over one another like a festering soup of vermin. Just thinking about them made my scales itch. I had the unfortunate pleasure of stumbling across one of their nests on my way here. No idea what stage they were at, but their numbers—hundreds, at least—made my skin crawl. I’d watched them gnaw away at the skeleton of something that vaguely resembled a creeper. Utterly revolting.

I slipped past them at the time, not wanting to take on their sheer numbers, but the thought of their disgusting little bodies still sent a chill down my spine.

They moved as if they shared one mind, operating with an unsettling synchronicity. Hive-mind? Perhaps. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that I had a plan. If I could lure the rats toward the creepers, let them duke it out amongst themselves… I might just rid this dungeon of its two most repugnant denizens in one fell swoop.

Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! I rather liked the sound of that.

Ahem.

One whispered prayer to Thalador, and I glided—well, ran—down the tunnel. I still needed a name for this kind of sprint. It was ridiculously fast, and I loved it. Occasionally stopping to check the airflow or sneaking just in case another monster was lurking nearby, I reached my destination in no time. A vertical slope loomed ahead in the tunnel, a sharp decline that would make my running-gliding trick even easier. The hues were always there, lighting the tunnel like a twisted beacon. And there they were, in the distance—the pack of rats. Monster rats. Each one the size of a cat, with sharp, needle-like teeth tearing into yet another skeleton.

Bloody hell. Like a swarm of locusts, they were. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more disgusting.

Focus, Jade!

First, I funneled mana into my fire gland—only half this time. Enough for two torrents of flames, which should be plenty. Holding the fire mana in my throat, I activated stealth. My scales blended with the cavern walls, my breathing shallow, claws bent, even my heart barely making a sound. Sneaky!

I crept closer, holding back the urge to gag at the sight. Filthy monsters. I just needed to set one trail ablaze. As I inched forward, I let loose—a burst of red-hot fire from deep in my throat. Instantly, the nearest rats were seared alive, their flesh bubbling and their shrieks echoing through the tunnel.

DIE, YOU FILTHY RATS!!

A curious thing, though—while only a handful caught the brunt of the blaze, more rats shrieked in agony. As if they all felt it. Huh. How peculiar. But no time to ponder that; their beady, malevolent eyes were now all on me. One plucky rat leapt forward—straight into its fiery doom. Good riddance.

But hundreds more were coming, lunging at me like a sea of screeching fury. Time to go!

I ran—fast. Faster than I’d ever moved in this dungeon. But their size betrayed their speed; they were surprisingly quick, their furious screeching filling the tunnel behind me.

After me? Or... led by me?

Ohohoho! Perfect!

I kept running, slowing now and then to make sure the rats didn’t lose sight of me. I couldn’t help it—I wagged my butt at them. Ahahaha! Come on then, you vile lot! Let’s see if you can keep up. Their rage grew, as did their speed. Excellent. I needed them angry, frothing mad, right on my heels.

Through the winding tunnels, I led the swarm deeper and deeper into the dungeon. Just one more turn, and there they were—those creepers, still clinging to the ceiling like the patient predators they were. Perfect.

I slowed, wings shifting as I grabbed hold of the tunnel's ceiling, mimicking the creepers. My Climb skill guided me, letting my claws dig in for stability. I pressed my wings tight against my back and flattened myself against the roof. The rats, oblivious to the trap, surged into the tunnel. Their shrill, hungry squeals echoed off the stone, and their beady red eyes gleamed with feral rage. Packed so tightly together, they moved like a singular, disgusting mass—a living tide of fur and teeth. Ugh, revolting pieces of shit.

Up ahead, the creepers remained utterly still, perfectly camouflaged—just as I’d left them. Efficient predators, those, with the patience of saints, lying in wait for the next hapless soul to wander into their grasp. Today, that honour belonged to the rats.

I pressed even closer to the ceiling, my scales blending into the stone, with Stealth keeping me nicely hidden. My breath slowed to shallow puffs, though I couldn’t help but wonder—what if the rats had another way of detecting me? By smell? By sound? My heart raced a bit at the thought, but no, the little terrors were too consumed by their own fury. They surged ahead, none the wiser, not even sparing a glance upwards. Bless their tiny minds.

The first rat reached the zone beneath the creepers. All it took was the smallest flicker of movement. One of the ceiling dwellers shot its tongue out—barbed, venomous, and straight to the point. The rat barely had time to blink before it was yanked upwards in one swift motion. A sharp crack later, and it was curtains for that one.

Yet the horde pressed on, utterly undeterred.

The rats surged like a furry flood, and the creepers responded with well-practiced efficiency. Three more tongues lashed out, each snaring a rat with surgical precision. In mere seconds, more writhing bodies were pulled into the air, and the tunnel was filled with the grisly symphony of snapping bones and punctured flesh. The creepers moved with a machine-like precision, transforming the tunnel into a macabre assembly line. I might have found it mesmerising—if it weren’t so thoroughly disgusting.

The rats were not helpless either. Their strength lay in numbers, and it quickly became clear that these numbers granted them a near-overwhelming advantage. The instant a creeper struck, several rats shifted their attention, launching themselves onto the walls, scrambling over each other to reach the ceiling. Needle-sharp teeth gnashed into the creepers’ legs and abdomens. For every rat that the creepers snatched, several more swarmed them in retaliation.

It was a brutal spectacle. The creepers lashed out wildly, their venomous tongues flicking through the air like whips, catching rats and flinging them aside with mechanical efficiency. But the rats were relentless, biting and clawing at anything they could reach, heedless of how many of their own fell in the process.

I observed from a safe distance before slowly creeping forward. The way the creepers moved along the ceiling… it was almost laughably simple. Their motion was mechanical: claws served to anchor them while tongues provided the necessary leverage, with joints extending just enough to avoid any wasted movement. Each limb had a specific range, optimized for pulling prey into their mouths as efficiently as possible. The entire structure of their bodies was built for this—the perfect ambush predator. But their one flaw? They weren’t built to handle an attack from all directions. Especially from something as chaotic as a swarm.

A plan began to form in my mind, a little experiment I was curious to test: how did the experience system work in cases like this? If multiple creatures wound one target, who gets the experience when it dies? Would it be split evenly? Did the creature delivering the killing blow claim it all? I had no clue. But this situation presented the perfect opportunity to find out. Slowly, I slinked forward.

Despite their strength, the creepers were struggling under the assault. These were stage 3 creatures, after all. But the rats had sheer numbers on their side. No wings to flee, no ranged attacks like mine. The creepers were limited by the range of their venomous tongues and the occasional mutated appendage—one of them had a barbed tail that skewered rats left and right. But even that tail had its limitations. Once the rats got on them, it turned into a mess of gnashing teeth and flailing limbs.

And me? Oh, I had no plans of letting these creepers perish before I could get a few hits in myself. Risky? Sure. But curiosity has always been a bit of a fickle friend. Besides, I had two things those creatures didn’t: wings for a swift retreat, and the upper hand when it came to ranged attacks.

Fire mana surged into the gland in my throat. Full this time. A quick glance at my screen showed I was five mana down. Ten left. Perfect.

I also had a skill that would make this a lot easier:

Flamethrower: Optimizes control over flame projection, enhancing precision and directional targeting of flame torrents for more effective application in both offense and defense.

In hindsight, an excellent choice alongside Mana Manipulation. One would think spitting fire was straightforward, but trust me, it was trickier than it sounded. Your vision goes all wonky, and aiming becomes a right faff. But with Flamethrower, I could fine-tune the spread, pick the perfect angle, and make sure I wasn’t wasting mana on some haphazard spray.

I zeroed in on my first target—a particularly miserable creeper, overrun by rats, shrieking as they tore into its flesh. The sheer brutality was almost... artful. But patience, patience. Timing is everything. You don’t rush brilliance.

The battle below was pure chaos—rats crawling up the walls, claws digging into the jagged stone like the scurrying pests they were. One of the creepers was thrashing about, hopelessly trying to fling them off, but its efforts only made things worse. More rats latched onto its underbelly, and then—crack!—its legs gave out under the weight of the horde. One of the beasts had already vanished beneath the swarm, consumed in a frenzy. The rats were everywhere, devouring anything they could sink their teeth into.

I dug my claws into the stone, leaning forward with a toothy grin as I watched the chaos unfold. Only three creepers left, and they were on their last legs—one already half-eaten, twitching pathetically as it succumbed to the swarm. The others weren’t far behind.

My jaws parted, the fire in my throat ready to burst forth.

Now.

I let it loose—a brilliant torrent of orange flame.

Flamethrower.

The attack was swift and precise, flames licking through the tunnel with enough range to keep me distant from the fray. The fire engulfed the first creeper and the surrounding rats, their agonized screeches filling the cavern as the flames consumed them. The rats, though burning, scattered quickly from the corpse.

[You have slain a level 3 Umbrocephalus rapax (III).]
[Experience Points acquired.]

The first burst of flame fizzled out, and that’s when I clocked them—rats scrambling up the walls just beneath me. Bugger. My stealth had well and truly scarpered. No time to dawdle—I had to act sharpish. My gaze fixed on the next creeper, its legs already being chewed on by those little vermin. Oblivious, it didn’t even notice me as I unleashed another flamethrower, this time straight at its exposed back. The fire crawled up its spine, right to the noggin. The delightful scent of charred, sizzling flesh filled the air as it flailed in its death throes before finally packing it in.

The rats scattered once again, leaving the burning corpse behind.

[You have slain a level 2 Umbrocephalus rapax (III).]
[Experience Points acquired.]

Another kill.

One left.

The final creeper clung to the ceiling, barely holding on. Its body was covered in deep gashes, armor cracked where the rats had torn through. It flailed weakly, trying in vain to shake off the few remaining attackers still latched onto its legs.

The rats were already onto me. I felt the sharp sting as one of them bit into my hind legs. IT DARED?!?

I inhaled sharply, chest expanding with fury, lungs stretching like a bellows. The muscles in my throat coiled, tense with anticipation. And then—I let it loose.

It wasn’t just a sound. It was a force. A primal, raw blast that came from the very depths of me. The vibration rippled through my entire body, shaking every scale, reverberating through the tunnel like an explosion of thunder.

Roar.

Everything froze. Every rat, every creeper, every last miserable creature was stunned by the sheer power of it. Except me. I wasn’t about to sit on my laurels. While they stood there, dumbstruck, I zeroed in on the final creeper. Fire swelled in my throat, and I sent it forth with deadly precision. The flames enveloped the creature, its agonized flailing cut short as it was swiftly reduced to ashes.

Job’s a good’un.

[Flamethrower has reached level 2.]
[You have slain a level 4 Umbrocephalus rapax (III).]
[Experience Points acquired.]
[Level increased.]
[Skill point(s) obtained: +1.]

Ah, sweet, sweet progress! Too bad I couldn’t stick around to loot their cores. The rats were shaking off the stun already, and two of them had crept up on my tail.

Not today, you filthy things.

I spread my wings, using the ceiling as a launch point, and Flight guided me into a downward glide. One of the rats still clung to my tail, teeth digging into my scales. I winced as I felt my scales harden instinctively, deflecting the worst of the damage. But I didn’t slow down.

I aimed for the vortex of airflow ahead, the one I had sensed but never seen until now.

Tail Whip. Channeling strength into my tail, I swung it hard against the tunnel wall. The impact was devastating—one rat was splattered instantly, a grotesque shower of blood and gore. The second rat was wounded, screeching as it fell away from me.

It was done.

Theory proved. I did bag the experience for those last hits—like a proper thief.

Gaze shifted. Eyes locked onto the swirling vortex of air ahead. There it loomed. In the distance like the gaping mouth of an abyss.

Leading deeper into the dungeon.