Tough.

Chewy.

Rubbery, but it had its charms. It wasn’t the best taste she had experienced but it wasn’t the worst either.

After digging deep into the flavours dancing on her tongue, she swallowed before biting down on the bloody arm. Its owner lay a few metres away, the fear apparent on his face even in death. His corpse was a mess. An arm and a shoulder were both missing, probably the same arm that was currently being feasted on by his killer. Stretching out of a gaping hole in his abdomen were tubes of flesh whilst fragments of organs lay scattered around the body.

This grievous wound, however, was not what killed him. Piercing deep into his throat was a strange weapon. Dull white in colour, it was without a handle, possibly a throwing weapon of some kind. A closer look at the weapon would reveal a different story though. It was a bone—one of the ribs to be more exact. Where the rib came from, there was only one possibility.

It was quite a gruesome way to die.

But his killer had no care for the circumstances of his death for the taste of his flesh far too enraptured her. She had almost cleared all the meat from the bone, and her next meal was likely the heart resting next to her feet.

Alas, just as the final strips of flesh vanished into her mouth her ears twitched, picking up faint traces of activity in the surroundings. His friends had finally realised that their group was one person smaller.

Though she was vexed about having her meal interrupted, the bloodlust oozing from her form displayed the sheer excitement coursing through her. Sure, she would have to wait a while before the vibrant flavours of a heart would bless her tongue but in exchange, the demoness would get a few more to savour. It was a fair deal.

Without hesitation, the demoness leapt to her feet and began to spread her senses, searching for the exact location of her prey. It didn’t take long for her to do so as she pounced towards the left, where the trees were denser in number.

Hidden behind the trees was a tall, scaly figure, its body started with a reptilian head and ended with a thick tail. A lizardman. But this was one somewhat different from your normal lizardmen. Light blue scales coated its body from head to toe, each shimmered with a polished sheen, even in the darkness of the night.

Blue was splattered red as the beast tore off a chunk of his shoulder, his reptilian face contorted with fear and anguish whilst she grinned with sadistic pleasure. It was intoxicating. As his jaws opened up to let out a scream, the lizardman found that his voice was stuck in his throat, forcefully trapped by the fist that had snuck into his mouth. Sensing an opportunity to strike his opponent, he fought through the pain and attempted to bite down on the arm, only to be inflicted with more agony. Something was missing. The tongue in the beast’s hand confirmed his thoughts. But that was all he could.

A deprecating smile found its way onto his lips as a grasp latched onto his neck, slowly squeezing the life out of him. His final thoughts were of his weakness in the face of this superior opponent before they were ended by a distinct snap.

‘One down’

She had sensed four of them, three were like the lizardmen she had been feasting on moments ago, but the other was different. The aura her senses had shown her was stronger, it radiated a faint sense of bestial tyranny. It looked delicious.

Her soul thrummed with excitement and longing if she ate that lizardman, something would change. A new power would be awakened within her.

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Lazaro had been promoted only recently. After evolving into a High Lizardman, he was lucky enough to awaken a trace of the Storm Dragon bloodline, courtesy of his belief in the God of Roaring Storms. Of course, belief wasn’t the only factor at play when it came to awakening a bloodline, luck was quite important too. Devout belief could tip the scales in this situation but the lizardman knew for certain that it was his luck that granted him this power.

But after experiencing the boons of the Storm Dragon bloodline, even with how little he possessed, his faith naturally bloomed. Their leader, the Storm’s Blessed, had shown them the capabilities of the full bloodline, it was how he had managed to quickly expand their territory beyond the swamp they resided in. And Lazaro could acquire this very same strength as long as he continued to evolve, allowing him to further purify his bloodline.

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In fact, the reason he was out patrolling their border was that an opportunity to progress in his path had popped up. Over the past few days, some night patrol squads never made it back from their duties. Investigations revealed ragged corpses, each brutally torn apart in different manners. A powerful beast was on the loose. A unique beast. A common trend found in each corpse was that the heart was missing, nowhere to be found in the surroundings. It could only mean this creature specifically targeted the heart, suggesting some level of intelligence.

Devouring such a creature would propel him straight towards the next evolutionary stage, how could he pass up on such a chance? And he was not alone in this idea, the Storm’s Blessed himself had ordered him to hunt this beast, stating it was to test whether he was worthy of the blood that was now flowing through him.

Remembering the sheer pressure he felt from their leader’s presence filled the young lizardman with excitement for his own future. For the days when he too would lord over the people. A heavy metallic scent pulled him from his thoughts, his body instinctively taking a battle stance as the very familiar scent of blood clogged his senses. His eyes narrowed towards where his spear pointed as a dark presence slowly approached him. It reeked of madness, brutality and…hunger.

With each thud of a footstep, his senses were overwhelmed further and further, seeking to crush his mind before he had even seen the beast that had brutalised so many of his brethren. But the budding dragon within him refused to bow down, it was a creature that sat at the top of the food chain. It was the apex predator. How could it feel fear in the face of a beast that was nothing more than nutrients to boost its growth?

From out of the darkness came a foot dripping with red, and with the next step, the appearance of the beast terrorising their borders was finally revealed. A giant, four-armed monstrosity faced him, even with its scarlet skin, the thick blood layering its arm was very visible to his eyes.

As his yellow eyes met with the orbs of amethyst in its head, a bloody grin cracked across its face.

“Found you”

Its terrifying voice grated upon his ears, slightly unnerving him while making him realise the creature was female. It was female? Taking a closer glance at the beast before him, he noticed its very feminine features. But why hadn’t he realised it?

Did he fear her? So much so that he didn’t attribute a gender to the creature before him? But that couldn’t be, could it? It was then he noticed the tip of his spear shaking, confusion stirred in his eyes before they widened in surprise. His hands…they were shaking.

Then there was a crack. The sound of the world around him shattering as the false bravado flooding him was drained away, and the fear hidden underneath was revealed to his eyes. He was scared? The very thought caused explosions in his mind as he flared with anger at both the creature before him and his cowardice. He held the bloodline of the Storm Dragon, no matter how little it was, he had to carry himself like one.

With that, his spear thrust forward with flaming precision, tearing through the air as it approached the beast’s chest. The lizardman smiled victoriously as he heard the distinct sound of iron piercing flesh, only for his expression to fall as found his spear deep in the creature’s hand. She didn’t give him a chance to recover as she forced the spear deeper into her hand until it pierced through. Even then, she didn’t stop as the shaft disappeared into the wound and came out the other side.

As his mind finally registered what was going on, Lazaro let go of his spear before backpedalling as quickly as he could. Unfortunately for him, his decision came a few seconds too late as an arc of blood followed the claws cutting through his chest. Not giving him a chance to inspect the damage, the beast clawed at him again with one hand whilst she pulled out the spear from her hand with another.

Sidestepping the attack, the lizardman tried to slip past his charging attacker only to be grabbed by the skull and slammed into the ground. Before he could complain about the unfairness of his opponent’s many arms, something penetrated through his already wounded chest before it was slowly twisted. Lazaro desperately tried to hold back his screams but the object was suddenly pulled out before it pierced through his chest again.

And again.

And again.

By this time, the lizardman had long realised the beast was stabbing him with his own spear, befalling him with one of the greatest acts of humiliation a warrior could experience. His chest had been pierced through so many times, yet each attack barely missed his heart. She was doing it on purpose, to toy with him, to show him she could kill him any time. His life was in her hands.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was this fair?

Why were things like this?

He was supposed to hunt a rampant beast and use its corpse to fuel his growth. But now, that same beast was torturing him, playing with his life. Once again, anger began to flow through his veins, but this time it was different. It was an anger that came from the depths of his body, from the draconic blood coursing through him. His bloodline began to purify itself rapidly, using the fury to forcefully cleanse the body it inhabited.

Faye stared down at her prey, observing the changes he was undergoing as a wild grin stretched from ear to ear. It seemed her hard work was being rewarded.

She had finally drawn out the real meal.