Arthur lumbered deeper into the cavern, his heavy claws scraping over loose gravel, each step sending low vibrations through the ground. The heat pressed against him relentlessly, thick and suffocating, like the air itself wanted to choke him out. His wings twitched against his back, tucked tight to avoid scraping the walls. The cavern was massive, yawning open in all directions, with tunnels twisting off into the darkness like arteries leading deeper into the heart of the island.
The place felt ancient—a burial ground where time itself had come to die. Dirt and gravel coated the ground, and volcanic vents hissed with bursts of sulfurous steam. The oppressive heat didn't bother Arthur much—his evolution had toughened his scales—but even with his hardened exterior, the atmosphere made him wary. It wasn't just heat he felt; it was something buried beneath the layers of dirt and ash, a lingering sense of old violence, as if the land remembered every battle fought here.
He glanced at his [Map]—the glowing, pulsating white signal still blinked north, deeper within the network of tunnels. The system didn't explain the nature of the signal, which gnawed at Arthur's nerves. He didn't like mysteries, especially not in a place that could collapse on him at any moment.
Just in case, he used [Analyze] to survey the area around him.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Location: Molten Tombs
Description: An ancient burial site for both monsters and warlords, its tunnels carved from molten rock by nomadic tribes of the past. Legend states that the fiercest of beasts were entombed here, their bones encased in stone as both trophy and warning. The remains of these creatures were believed to keep Volcranax—the volcanic dragon—appeased, ensuring the island's survival. Yet time has eroded the tribes and their sacrifices, leaving the tombs to be reclaimed by nature and wandering monsters.
Arthur mulled over the message, his gaze lingering on the uneven walls that looked clawed and torn, as though massive creatures had struggled to escape their final resting place. "So the nomads weren't just hunters—they were beast slayers. Monsters and warlords, buried in the same dirt? These people were something else," he muttered.
It was a sobering thought. These humanoid nomads, long forgotten, were strong enough to capture and kill creatures of his size—maybe bigger. For the first time since his evolution, Arthur felt a flicker of doubt. If these ancient people could take down monsters like him, could there still be survivors or descendants on the surface capable of doing the same? He shook the thought off. Now wasn't the time for hesitation.
The cavern opened wider, and the emptiness gnawed at him—no scavengers, no insects, nothing alive. Just oppressive heat and silence, broken only by the occasional hiss of steam. His claws clacked against the ground as he pressed forward, winding through narrow passages and over mud pits bubbling with molten sludge.
When he came across a broad clearing in the cavern, Arthur's eyes locked onto a strange object resting in the center—a stone tablet, cracked down the middle but still intact.
He approached cautiously, his instincts prickling. The last time he'd encountered an ancient relic, it had given him useful information. Maybe this one would, too.
Arthur tapped the stone lightly with his claw and activated [Analyze].
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
The Stone Tablet of Volcranax:
This tablet records the rise of Volcranax, Lord of the Scorching Badlands, a beast born from molten earth and flame. To keep the dragon from laying waste to the island, the nomads offered sacrifices—both creatures and lesser fire spirits. These rituals kept Volcranax dormant, but without these offerings, the dragon's fury would awaken.
Current Status: Dormant—But unrest stirs.
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "So you've been sleeping, huh?" he muttered. Volcranax was dormant—for now—but nothing stayed dormant forever. It was only a matter of time before the beast woke, and if Arthur wanted to survive, he'd have to prepare for that confrontation. He could almost feel the heat of the dragon's breath on his scales.
But just as he started to turn away from the tablet, his instincts screamed.
Arthur tensed, wings twitching as a skittering sound echoed through the cavern. He barely had time to react before the Ember Beetles emerged from the walls, their glowing exoskeletons reflecting the heat around them, making them nearly invisible. They scurried toward Arthur with surprising speed, legs clicking rhythmically as if in sync with one another.
[Analyze] kicked in automatically.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Enemy Detected: Ember Beetles
Description: Insectoid creatures with heat-reflective exoskeletons, capable of camouflaging within volcanic environments. They possess a collective mental link, reducing the effectiveness of individual psychic attacks.
Threat Level: Moderate.
Arthur snarled. "Great. Bugs."
The beetles wasted no time, circling him in a coordinated swarm. Their collective mental link threw off his attempts to use [Psychic], his telekinetic focus bouncing uselessly between their shifting minds. They darted in and out of his range, using the heat-warped air to disorient him, their pincers clacking menacingly as they tried to find weak points in his armor.
Arthur swiped with his claws, the molten tips glowing red-hot, but the beetles were too fast. They scattered just before his attacks could connect, skittering up the walls and vanishing into the heat-blurred haze. It was like fighting shadows—every time he thought he had one, it slipped away.
"Annoying little bastards," Arthur growled, his tail whipping through the air. But the beetles dodged again, their exoskeletons shimmering as they disappeared into the cavern walls.
He needed a plan.
Arthur planted his feet, letting his [Destruction Pulse] hum to life. The energy gathered inside him, building like pressure before a volcanic eruption. As the beetles swarmed closer, sensing an opportunity to overwhelm him, Arthur released the pulse in a controlled blast.
The ground shook as a section of the ceiling gave way, rocks and molten debris crashing down on the beetles. Their collective screeches filled the air, frantic and desperate, as the falling stones pinned them beneath the rubble.
Arthur lunged forward, molten claws flashing. This time, he didn't miss. The trapped beetles shrieked as he tore through their ranks, crushing their shimmering bodies one by one until the cavern fell silent once more.
Panting, Arthur surveyed the damage. The ceiling was partially collapsed, but the tunnel leading north remained intact. He flicked the last bits of beetle remains from his claws, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.
But as he devoured the beetles' remains, a cold realization hit him—the system gave him nothing. No essence absorbed. No evolution progress.
Arthur's chest tightened. What if his evolution had hit a wall? Could [Destruction Pulse] have burned away the essence before he could absorb it? If that were the case, his strongest ability was also a liability—a double-edged sword.
The thought gnawed at him. What if he couldn't evolve any further? What if he was stuck in the second stage forever?
Arthur exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus. Panic wouldn't solve anything. He'd figure it out—he had to.
He cast one last glance at the rubble before turning his gaze north. The white signal on his map still pulsed, beckoning him deeper into the tombs. Whatever awaited him there, he had a feeling it was important.
Arthur's wings twitched as he flexed his claws.