The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution/Progression LitRPG)

A chorus of groans. Ahh, the sounds of pain, of rending flesh, of bones meeting their breaking point.

It felt almost like a game, the kind where you save the princess. Viper was the princess. They came at me like a bunch of overinflated balloons, I abandoned the rock analogy because rocks at least imply a threat of impact, a capacity for harm. These guys were utterly incapable of it.

So I worked my way through them. I didn't kill them, though… as Viper had suggested. That didn't mean I couldn't get creative.

A sword came in from the left, but I'd sensed it long before. It was sheathed in a blazing aura of flames. I didn't even give it a second thought as I drove my fist into the gut of the guy in front of me. The flaming blade came down on my shoulder, and where it struck, golden scales rippled into existence. The sword shattered into a hundred glittering pieces and my following uppercut neatly unplugged the guy's consciousness.

Ugh. It was almost too easy.

There were close to thirty of them when this started. Now only ten were left, and they were properly fucking scared. Well… too bad for them. They were going down regardless. If they wouldn't come to me, then I had no problem going to them.

The little skirmish ended with them trying to climb the walls like scaly-legged lizards, screaming when they found no exit, until I became the exit for their consciousness. Creatively. I made sure to break at least three bones, no less, for each person.

Fun.

I finally looked over at Viper and flashed a grin. He just looked down and let out a long-suffering sigh, but he didn't reprimand me. Good. That meant I'd done my job right. And quickly.

***

Apparently, this base used to belong to an alchemist who was somewhat famous in the underbelly of Varkaigrad . He worked for the wrong crowd and managed to piss off several reputed gangs, which Varkaigrad has in abundance. Lysska bailed him out on the strength of her name, but it seems there's an unspoken rule here: if the bottom feeders attract the attention of those higher up the food chain, they're as good as finished. Their influence is nothing compared to what a full noble house can unleash.

And since Lysska was taken by the Sablethorn Patriarch himself, everyone wrote her off for dead. How that rumor reached them so quickly was a mystery to me, though, considering how Thibault found out, it isn't far-fetched to think the gangs caught wind of the talk his men were spreading. Or maybe they've got their own information networks. Not that they'd be half as effective as Lysska, who was a one-woman intelligence apparatus.

Whatever the case, one of their opportunistic leaders saw an opening and immediately started seizing the territories Lysska used to operate. Like vultures. Frankly, it showed just how fast and ruthless these people can be. For Thalador's sake, it hadn't even been a day.

And one of those areas was this very place. The alchemist that Lysska saved, this Viktor, apparently held quite a bit of value, from what I'd gathered listening to Viper.

"What did you do?!?" That whiny sound belonged to the man in question. Raven-black hair, grey eyes, he might've looked halfway decent if his face wasn't stained with grime and shadowed by an unkempt beard. A little less stink would've done wonders, too.

I glanced up from my scrutiny of the glassware cluttering his table, along with whatever was bubbling unsteadily inside one of the flasks. The man had been in the middle of chopping a Gleamlily.

"Do it diagonally instead."

"What?"

"The Gleamlily. Chop it diagonally, increases the surface area. Makes that transfiguration potion you're working about ten percent more efficient."

"Wait, how did you know what I was making?"

I just frowned, then shot him an incredulous look. "It's obvious. Written all over your setup. What kind of question is that? Even an alchemy novice could tell. It's not like transfiguration potions are exactly complex."

He stared at me in stunned silence, mouth slightly agape, before finally turning to Viper. "Who the hell is she? I don't think I've seen her before…?"

"New member. Meet Venam. Venam, Viktor." I gave a casual wave, then picked up a piece of Voidroot, crushed it smoothly into a paste in my palm, and mixed it with a ground powder from another jar. Then I shifted a portion of my throat, activating a smaller fire gland, and breathed a controlled stream of flame directly over my hand.

Viktor jumped back instantly. "Careful! You'll burn your-"

But golden scales had already shimmered across my skin. This level of heat didn't even tickle. The flame aerosolized the mixture, and it burst outward in a rush of fragrant smoke.

"Ah… much better." I glanced back at Viktor. "Sorry, but you smelled like a sewer. This whole room did, honestly. Those ingredients in the back have spoiled, by the way, you could still turn them into sealed stink explosion orbs, but I wouldn't recommend storing them. The stench lingers."

Viktor looked utterly stunned. As he should be. Now the place, and he, smelled halfway decent. He ought to be thanking me.

"You sure she's right in the head?" Viktor whispered a little too loudly into Viper's ear.

"You do know I can hear you?" I drawled. Words like that stopped affecting me a long time ago.

"Let's not get sidetracked," Viper cut in smoothly. "We're here for a reason. We need you to open a spatial ring through alchemical channelling." He produced the ring and handed it over.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Viktor studied it, frown deepening. "Seems high-class. Very expensive. Where'd you get it? Please don't tell me you looted a house head this time." He looked genuinely horrified.

Viper shook his head. "Nothing like that." Then he glanced at me. "Let's just call it repayment for the favor you owe Lysska."

"I'm warning you, be straight with me. If this belongs to any house head, I want no part of it. I value my life more than favours."

"I swear it," I cut in calmly. "It doesn't belong to any house heads, noble families, or even the Iron Pact."

I saw Viktor visibly relax.
"Alright, you know what I need, blood, skin, flesh… anything from the original owner."

Oh, fuck. I'd forgotten.

"Give me, like, five minutes. I'll be back. In the meantime, set up whatever you need." I vanished on the spot.

The last thing I heard before leaving was Viktor muttering, "Is she going to take that stuff freshly from its owner?"

Didn't take long. I came back holding the torn-off hand of that elf. A few more enchanted rings clung to his fingers, looked like standard mana boosters or a magic focus. Rich bastard.

When I walked in, Viktor and Viper were already setting up the apparatus.
"Is that an entire arm?!" Viktor screeched.

I shrugged and tossed it their way, after pocketing the rings, of course. Viktor caught it with a look that hovered somewhere between disgust and disbelief.

"This looks like a noble lady's arm…" he whined. "I hope you both aren't lying to me."

I snorted. Elf. No wonder he mistook it for a delicate woman's. Those glitter princes always looked soft, but there was nothing delicate about those rotten bastards.

I watched as they worked. The process was straightforward enough once I got the gist of it. Fresh blood still "remembered" the original owner's mana flow patterns. Alchemy could replicate those patterns, making it effective for unbinding or unlocking anything tied to that person's mana.

But it went deeper than that, it wasn't just that everyone's mana felt different. It was how it moved. The turbulence through someone's mana veins created a unique eruption pattern for every single person. Didn't matter for spellcasting, but it made each mana expulsion as distinct as a fingerprint.

Binding relied on two things:

The user's unique mana signature.

The user's unique mana eruption signature.

We already had the first from his blood. The alchemy medium replicated the second.

Viktor said the process was easier because we had the whole arm, no need to build a substitute medium from scratch, which would've taken way longer. Good news for us.

Soon enough, it was ready. The arm hung suspended inside the apparatus, and blazing mana veins began to form within it, mimicking the original owner's network.

Viktor frowned. "Such refined mana veins… this lady must've been at least a high red core. You people really want me dead, don't you?" he complained, but his hands didn't stop moving. He clearly wanted to see what was inside the ring just as badly as we did.

"Alright, stand back. This method isn't selective, I'll have to expel everything inside the ring at once."

"Hold up," I cut in.

I suggested we move the apparatus outside because if something nasty came out, I'd rather it wreck the open air than the workshop.

Better safe than sorry.

Outside, some of the goons I'd knocked out earlier had woken up. I'd felt their movements before, just didn't give a fuck. They were dragging their less fortunate buddies out of the underground hall when Viper and Viktor emerged, lugging the entire apparatus table between them.

I gave the recovering ones a glare. That was all it took, they bolted. A few were still stuck on the ground with heavier injuries. I'd been… liberal with some of them. Pity. My tentacles lashed out, scooping them up into a neat unconscious pile before I dusted my hands off.

"Ready?" Viktor asked, hand hovering over the torn arm.

I nodded, braced for whatever came out.

First thing to pop free was… a rock? Then another. And another. Uh. I caught the massive stones with my tentacles, lowering them carefully.

Then the real haul started, an enormous glass case stuffed with exotic monster mana cores, sparkling vials, and other shiny, dangerous-looking prizes. A lacquered cabinet followed. What the hell was this guy keeping in here, his entire damn house?

Finally, a massive iron tablet landed with a thud, its surface etched with dense script. Definitely an enchantment base. I barely had time to glance at it before the last item fell out.

The air dimmed instantly.

It was a book, a strange, ugly thing bound in what looked uncomfortably like human skin. The cover bulged with a dozen real eyes sewn together in a grotesque image. The title was etched in Elvish, which I could read now:

Book of the Bloodborn.

A strange, invasive surge of energy washed over the room. Viktor rubbed his eyes, and a thin line of blood began to trail from his sockets. The eyes on the book's cover simultaneously went bloodshot.

I didn't waste a single second. I lunged forward, grabbed the book, and vanished with it on the spot.

Even holding it for that brief moment, even through the scales on my hands, I felt my deepest instincts howl in recognition. A raw, overwhelming urge screamed from within me: I WANTED TO DEVOUR THAT BOOK.

A system notification blinked across my vision, but I shoved it aside, forcing every shred of focus into keeping myself from tearing into the book right there. My wings beat, and I slipped through the shadow-layer of the world.

I reached the hidden spot where I'd stashed the elf's arm, hurled the book inside, slammed the entrance shut, and rearmed the wards.

"Fuck." I exhaled hard.

What in the absolute hell was that thing? This was different from the pure, clean hatred I felt for elves. The book didn't carry their particular rotten stench, but it had something else. Something alien. Something profoundly other that made every one of my predatory instincts scream in unison.

Lotte?

I asked the question hopefully into the quiet of my own mind, hoping the lizard was listening. There was no answer. Ugh.

For now… retrieving that thing was off the table. I'd need to have a long talk with Lysska and move it to a far more secure location. Maybe I could ask Lotte, too, next time I managed to slip into my dreamland. This required expertise far beyond my own.

For now, I just turned and left. At least I had a lead this time.
What the fuck even was a Bloodborn?

I headed back to where Viktor and Viper were, dodging their questions entirely. I wasn't in the mood to answer, hell, I wasn't in the mood to hear their questions. The book was already in a relatively safe place for now, and we still had plenty of other loot to sift through from the ring.

They seemed to get the hint. My lack of interest in talking made them drop it, especially once the shiny distractions around us stole their attention. The cabinet in particular, stuffed with exotic ingredients, had Viktor all but drooling.

I was tempted too, but there was something else gnawing at me. A bigger headache.

The fact that those Iron Pact bloodhounds had dared to kidnap Viera.

I glanced down at my claws. Lysska had told me it was bait, that I wasn't required to fall for it.

But… what if I wanted to fall for it? I had a perfect opportunity too.

"Moonveil Draught, Pale Mite Tonic, Ares Elixir, you've got the ingredients for all these, right?" I asked Viktor, whose earlier fear had been completely replaced with an almost childlike fascination for the cabinet's contents.

He narrowed his eyes. "Those are all disguise potions. Moonveil Draught gives you silver hair. Pale Mite Tonic lightens your skin, makes you a little shorter, ghostly pale. Ares Elixir turns your eyes red. If you just want to look like someone else, I could whip up a morphing potion, assuming you've got some of their blood or flesh."

I smiled at him.

The person I wanted to turn into was on every wanted poster in Varkaigrad . And I had a very important test to run. Plus, a few arrogant people who needed taking down a notch.

Sorry, Lysska. There was too much chaos swirling around me right now, and I needed to shape it before it shaped me.

One step at a time.