A sudden, sharp sting shot through my paw—ah, yes, the cheeky little beast had bitten me, and with enough gusto to pierce through my scales, no less! I squinted at the bite marks, something rather peculiar caught my eye. My wounds were drenched in the glowing sap beneath me, and... good heavens, was this stuff alive? Tiny, glistening tendrils were slowly inching their way up toward the bite.

Naturally, I did what any perfectly reasonable creature would do in such a situation.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

I shrieked and yanked my paw back, shaking it about like a mad thing, but those tendrils weren't having any of it. No, they kept creeping up, stubborn as a mule.

What in the blazes was this stuff? Why on earth was it moving like that? Before I could even begin to make sense of it, the sap had wormed its way into the wound. I shook my paw furiously, but it clung on like a desperate lover. Was it... drinking my blood? It seemed to vanish as it soaked up the crimson, leaving the wound drier by the second.

And then, just like that fancy light magic the priests of Thalador were always banging on about, the wound began to knit itself back together, all neat and tidy. The torn skin was pulled tighter than a miser's purse strings, bit by bit, until it was as though the bite had never had the nerve to happen. Scales and all, good as new.

The sap, clearly having done its job, finally loosened its sticky grip, retreating down my leg like it had better places to be. I stood there, utterly gobsmacked, my thoughts whizzing about like startled pigeons. Did this sticky muck just... heal me? No, that couldn't be right. Surely not.

But there it was, as plain as the nose on my face. Well, there was only one way to settle this, wasn't there? Without a moment's hesitation, I sunk my sharp canines into my paw again. Pain shot through, but I gritted my teeth and bore it.

Blood welled up, as expected. I stared down at the infernal sap, daring it to do its thing. After a few agonizingly slow seconds of nothing, I dunked my paw back into the goo.

And ofcourse, the moment I did it, the tendrils sprang to life, slurping up my blood like it was their favourite tipple, and the wound stitched itself back together right before my very eyes.

Blimey, this stuff actually healed! What in the blazes was it? Now, I fancied myself a bit of an alchemy buff—been dabbling in it since I was but a tot—but if anyone had told me that dungeons were just hoarding top-shelf healing potions like this very sap, I'd have given them a good whack upside the head for talking absolute codswallop.

Healing potions, like all proper alchemical creations, demanded a certain finesse. You've got to strike that perfect balance of heat, give it just the right stir, pause at the precise moment, cool it with care, and introduce those volatile catalysts at just the right tick of the clock.

One tiny slip-up, and poof—congrats, you'd turned your ingredients into a useless, bubbling mess. A touch too much heat, or a hasty stir, and you were left with nothing but a cauldron full of disappointment.

Alchemy's always been a bit of a passion of mine. Lotte was a top-notch mentor, taught me more recipes than I could count. The common thread through all of them? Time, effort, and the perfect ingredients.

And yet, there I was, staring at this glowing sap, dribbling out of this… dungeon… tree, with no idea what the fuck it was.

No base, no catalysts, no carefully-timed manathermic reactions—just pure, potent healing power, handed to me on a silver platter. I mean, take that salve I whipped up to cure those burns on what was supposed to be the last peaceful day of my life. That had taken ages!

It all started with Sunbarm Root Paste, thickened and stabilized in holy water to act as the magical solvent. Then I had to add White Salamander's Breath, a finicky little catalyst that, when introduced to the cooled base, set off a controlled boil—exactly what one needed to blend everything together on a fundamental level.

Then, for that final touch, it needed something like Moonshadow Extract, or anything equally rich in light magic, to bind the whole thing together. Timing was everything—too soon, and you'd ruin the Moonshadow's delicate properties; too late, and it wouldn't integrate, leaving the salve about as effective as a soggy tissue.

And yet, this sap, just oozing through this tunnel like it's no big deal, was packed with all the potency of a master-crafted potion, without any of the faff. It was bloody baffling! BLOODY BAFFLING, I SAY!

I turned my gaze back to the stat screen. Evolution? Oh-ho! So that's a thing too, is it? Naturally, it was. And let's not forget that Lotte once gave me strict instructions—under no circumstance was I to initiate it without her. Why? Who knows? But it was Lotte, and after all these years with her, you'd be daft to question it.

I waved away the screen, staring at the bug monster's remains. Oddly enough, I wasn't feeling particularly peckish. I had already feasted on a spider monstrosity and a turtle-like creature—feeling quite stuffed, actually. A bit like when you've overindulged at a Sunday roast, and the thought of another bite makes your stomach threaten revolt.

Still, waste not, want not, as they say. And this squashed critter was brimming with mutagen, too good to pass up.

I swallowed hard, eyeing the mangled mess my claws had made. Green ichor oozed from the creature, but the healing sap seemed unbothered by it—probably because it was, well, dead. With a resigned scrunch of my nose, I opened my mouth and bit down. "Oh, yuckies..." I wanted to say, but to my surprise—just like the spider and turtle before—it was actually rather scrumptious. Nom nom nom!

[Morphogen source assimilated.]

[Morphogens acquired: +4.]

HAAAAH! I flopped back with a groan after finally polishing off that bug—by Thalador's knickers, that was a feast and a half! I couldn't have managed another bite if I'd tried, not even if they'd offered me a spot of pudding after. I stretched out, letting my paws soak in the healing sap, though even with my upgraded eyes, I still couldn't look directly at the stuff. Too bloody bright! But it did remind me that I'd nabbed four whole morphogens from that critter.

Four! Proof positive it was a higher level than me. Not that it was a surprise—it was the first beastie I'd encountered that could toss about a bit of magic. Illusion magic, no less!

The only reason I managed to take it down was because of those hues. If I hadn't been able to see through its wonky illusions, I'd have been six feet under before I'd even set foot in this blasted tunnel. Probably with that creeper munching on my remains. This dungeon was dangerous—no, scratch that—bloody dangerous!

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Now that I could evolve, maybe that 'II' after the bugger's name meant it had already gone through a round of evolution? Second stage, perhaps? Who knows. Ugh! Barn, you absolute git, wake up already!

I let out a long sigh, swirling the sap beneath me with one of my claws. It parted around them, closing up as quickly as I cut through it. Would've been quite soothing to watch if it didn't singe my retinas every time I glanced at it. And why on Earth couldn't I store the stuff? It was practically a top-shelf healing potion, and it was just lying about, going to waste. It rubbed me the wrong way, seeing it all just... there.

I glanced down the tunnel. My ears, always sharp as a tack, were just as keen in this monster body. Odd that they weren't listed as something I could upgrade, but there you have it.

I could hear it—soft noises, whimpers, the fluttering of wings like some oversized fly, even a few growls. There had to be an open space up ahead, probably crawling with more beasties.

I wasn't sure what lay ahead. Maybe I didn't want to know. For now, I had enough mutagens for a few more upgrades. I pulled up my stat screen.

Name: Jade

Level: 5

Species: Dragon Hatchling (I)

Attributes:

* Strength: 15

* Durability: 12

* Intelligence: 30

* Will: 17

* Mana Points: 0/0

* Stamina Points: 03/14

Species Skills:

* Claw Swipe: Level 3 (I)

* Tail Whip: Level 1 (I)

* Roar: Level 1 (I)

* Scale Harden: Level 2 (I)

* Stealth: Level 3 (I)

* Crunch: Level 2 (I)

* Quick Dash: Level 2 (I)

Exclusive Skills:

* Transformation: Level 1 (I)

Mutations:

* Eyes: +3

Resources:

* Skill Points: 2

* Morphogens: 7

Upon closer inspection, there was a cheeky little "(I)" tucked right behind my own species name. Rather curious, hmm? So perhaps, after a bit of evolutionary sprucing up, I'd be sporting a shiny new "(II)" as well. Made perfect sense, really.

Ah, and dragons! Yes, that word tickled something deep in the back of my mind. I hadn't quite had the luxury of pondering it, really, what with all the running for my life and whatnot. Never actually encountered a beastie by that name in this world, though it struck a familiar chord—likely from my dreamworld. Not that I was particularly well-versed in the local fauna here either.

What on earth was that creeper that fancied chasing me? Or that monstrous bug? I was slapping the most obvious labels on them—spider monster, creeper, bug monster—terribly original, I know. Was it odd, though? Their species names were even more of a head-scratcher. Titanus Adolescentus? What in blazes was that supposed to mean? But "dragon," now that stood out, no doubt about it, probably because it echoed from my dreamscape.

The images bubbling up in my noggin confirmed that dear Lotte was one of these dragons, too. It's all a bit befuddling if you dwell on it for too long, so I decided not to. Better to shove it aside and keep my wits about me. Speaking of which, a quick swivel of my serpentine neck revealed no immediate threats lurking about—splendid. Perhaps I'd linger here for a spell.

My focus drifted back to the stat screen, particularly to the resource section.

Skills available for acquisition:

Crush Claw: Requires 1 SP. Augments claw precision and impact force.

Select a mutation:

Eyes +4: Improve visual processing and targeting accuracy.

Wings +1: Reinforce wings to enhance flight performance.

Legs +1: Augment leg power and maneuverability.

Claws +1: Upgrade claws for increased lethality.

Scales +1: Fortify scales for superior defensive capabilities.

Fire Gland +1: Enhance fire gland for elevated internal mana input.

Well, that was a bit of a doddle, wasn't it? Eyes, of course! I mean, really, who wouldn't? All I wanted was to feel a smidgen more like my old self. Sure, the other options had their merits, but these blasted eyes of mine were the real bother. Bright hues? Useful, I'll grant you that, but they'd be even more splendid if my brain could process them without turning every proper glance into a migraine.

So, I'd be left with three Morphogens, eh? Might as well put the rest to good use—perhaps invest in some claws and scales, beefing up both my offence and defence. It's only logical, after all. Then I'd still have one Morphogen left in the tank. Perfect for another go at the peepers once I'd gathered a few more. Sounded like a plan!

Right then, Eyes it was!

Would you like to use 4 Morphogens to upgrade your eyes?

Hold on a tick—could I select multiple upgrades at once? The pain was inevitable, so why not lump it all together? Take the hit in one go, rather than dragging it out? Seemed the sensible thing to do.

I mentally ticked a few more boxes.

Would you like to use 6 Morphogens to upgrade your eyes, claws, and scales?

Brilliant! It worked! Now, all that was left was to brace for the inevitable agony.

Yay! Go on, Jade, just say yes! It's only a teensy bit of pain—nothing you haven't handled before, right? Of course, a bit of self-deception never hurt anyone. The only way I was ever going to get through this was by convincing myself it was no big deal.

I dug my claws into the bark-like material of the tunnel, took a deep breath, and mentally clicked "Yes."

…

…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!