The tunnel zigged and zagged, narrowing with every step, the air subtly shifting in ways only I could notice. I craned my neck, nostrils flaring as I honed in on the faintest puff of air. It wasn’t just a hunch—this was my Skill, something more refined. The airflow, ever so obedient, always told me its secrets. There were patterns, delicate changes in pressure and temperature. The way it brushed against the walls painted a mental map of the tunnels. Tight spaces sent the wind rushing faster, while wider chambers stretched the current, slow and thick. My skill wasn’t just sensing the breeze—it was reading the very space around me through its movements.

Funny thing was, I reckoned that, at higher levels, I wouldn’t even need sight. Whether it was my increased intelligence or the skill itself sharpening, it had become instinctual. I could track my path, mark the tunnels I’d passed through by the texture of the air alone. Handy, really, in a place like this.

I was heading far, far away from the ritual site—the spot where Barn and the Queen had their little dust-up, and where that whole tomfoolery with the cultists went down. Hanging around there any longer would’ve been tantamount to begging for the elves to sniff me out. And, let’s be honest, even mid-level grey core warriors or mages? Yeah, no chance I could take them on at this stage.

So, I legged it.

Deeper into the dungeon—that was the ticket. A proper challenge awaited, a chance to evolve, grow stronger. With stealth still engaged, my scales merged with the shadows, shifting with the dungeon’s glow. Sneaky dragon mode engaged! Stalking my prey, ever so slyly. Heh.

My current quarry? Creepers. Always moved in packs, these third-stage nasties, but I’d spotted a lone one. Also, something about them was a tad strange. Odd to find them lurking up here, of all places. Their growth would be stunted without anything above second-stage monsters to munch on.

I could sympathise.

That cursed morphogen and experience penalty was the bane of my existence. Anything below my level gave me barely a crumb. Even when I ate them, I’d get a fraction of the morphogen I needed. Took three of those bug monsters in that sap tunnel just to increase it by 1. Ugh.

At least those bugs had mana cores. That had been a small mercy.

I pulled up my stat screen.

Name: Jade

Level: 1

Species: Voracious Manaweaver (Draconis) (III)

Abilities: Mana Devourer

Attributes:

* Strength: 17

* Durability: 34

* Intelligence: 42

* Will: 29

* Mana Points: 13/13

* Stamina Points: 39/44

Species Skills:

* Echo Claw Swipe: Level 1 (III)

* Tail Whip: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Roar: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Scale Harden: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Stealth: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Spectral Crunch: Level 1 (III)

* Quick Dash: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Flight: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Deep Breathing: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Air Sense: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Climb: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Crush Claw: Level 5 (I) (+)

* Flamethrower: Level 1 (I)

* Mana Manipulation: Level 1 (I)

Exclusive Skills:

* Transformation: Level 1 (I)

* Lightning Affinity: Level 1 (I)

Mutations:

* Eyes - Focusing Lenses, Peripheral Optimization (III): +0

* Claws - Claw Flexibility, Razor-Edge Claws (III): +0

* Scales - Colour Adaptation, Shock-Absorbent Scales (III): +0

* Wings - Hollow Bones (II): +0

* Legs - Joint Flexibility (II): +0

* Fire Gland - Mana Reservoir, Mana Conservation (III): +0

* Macro-Trophic Sac - Stamina Surge Reservoir (II): +0

* Mana Conduit Vasculature (I): +0

Resources:

* Skill Points: 1

* Morphogens: 5

After my latest evolution, I awoke with a modest 10 mana points in the bank. But after polishing off those three bug creatures, my mana shot up to 13. Their little cores must've done the job. They were the only stage two beasties I'd encountered with mana cores so far, and apparently capable of a bit of magic as well. How charming.

On my travels, I ran into a few more creatures—sadly, not a core among them. They all ended up in my stomach, adding to my morphogen but little else. Quite the inconvenience, really. If I wanted to make any actual progress, I needed more cores. And that meant delving deeper into this dungeon. Pronto.

But first... MANA!

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I froze mid-step, taking a sharp breath. Finally, I could feel it—the elusive energy that had been playing hide and seek with me. A pleasant warmth from my core, seeping through my veins like molten gold. It was everywhere, coursing through me, filling me with untapped power.

Controlling it, though? That was a different story.

At first, it was like trying to catch smoke with my claws. Slippery. Faint. It kept shifting, dodging my attempts to grasp it. Even human mages struggled for years to feel mana, let alone wield it properly. I wasn’t any different, apparently.

It was frustrating—until the system chimed in with a reminder: Mana Manipulation.

Ah. Of course.

Instinct had been spot on, as usual. There was a skill for this. With a handful of points still in reserve, I bought it.

Immediately, the fog lifted.

Now, this wasn’t some ethereal force swirling around inside me—it was tangible, something I could control. Slowly, methodically, I started directing it. First, from my core outward, guiding it through my veins. I carefully nudged it toward different areas—my limbs, my chest—not rushing. There were natural pathways, channels where the mana flowed more easily, and I honed in on those.

No more chaos. Every movement was calculated. Precise. Each push of mana became a test of control, a measure of how far I could go.

Casting a spell? Still a way off, I think. But now I had the medium. The groundwork. With a bit of time, I’d be the fiercest caster this world had ever seen. Ohohoho!

Ahem.

More than just that, though—my fire gland was now in working order. Time for a proper test.

I took a deep breath and let the mana pool in my chest. Instinctively, I channeled it towards the gland nestled in my throat. Heat began to bloom—not a wild explosion, but a steady, contained force. Like holding food in your mouth—only, in this case, my throat. The sensation was odd, to say the least. My natural impulse was to spit it out or swallow it, but I resisted.

I could hold it there. Control it.

Probably for quite some time, too.

This newfound finesse must’ve been thanks to my recent upgrades—one for extra mana capacity, the other for holding fire longer. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as I’d anticipated. Sure, my throat burned a bit, but the heat was bearable. Controlled. Almost... pleasant.

A quick glance at my stat page confirmed: 4 mana points to fully charge the fire gland. Absolutely perfect. I was primed for action.

I crept forward, ever so slowly, eyes locked on a twisted creeper hanging above me like a grotesque chandelier. Ambush predator, was it? Well, so was I. And with the enhanced hues I could now perceive, whatever camouflage it thought it had? Completely useless.

It had no clue I was even there.

But I knew.

And the first strike? That would be mine.

The creeper hung motionless, its claws poised in anticipation, twitching. It was still unaware. My muscles coiled, ready to spring. My body sank low, barely a sound escaped me—only the soft thrum of my heartbeat filled the silence.

Now.

I opened my throat.

Fire erupted. Hot. Blistering. A roaring torrent shot from my maw, guided with precision by my skill, burning through the air with a vicious hiss. The flames engulfed the creeper in a single breath. It screeched—a jagged, ear-splitting wail as its blackened skin bubbled and peeled, its body dropping from the ceiling with a thud.

But it wasn’t done. It thrashed, desperate, still moving.

And just like that, my stealth broke.

I stopped the flames, throat still burning, but the fire gland was still three-quarters full. I could still unleash three more volleys like that. With a quick, practiced thought, I used one more mana point, filling it back up. That left me with 8 mana.

The creeper, despite its injuries, still had the presence of mind to open its mouth, its jagged teeth glistening with venom. I knew what was coming next.

Raising my wings, I waited. Timing was everything.

The familiar barbed tongue shot toward me, slick with that paralytic toxin, but I was ready. With a single, powerful wing flap, I shot upward, the tongue whipping beneath me.

Perfect.

I glided effortlessly through the air, jaws open wide as I snapped down. My teeth found their mark—the creeper’s tongue. Spectral Crunch maximized the force of my bite, my jaw clamping down with bone-shattering strength. My goal was simple: catch its tongue and keep it from running.

What I didn’t expect was for my bite to sever it completely.

The tongue snapped off with a delightful squelch, followed by the most ungodly screech as the creeper lost its one and only defense. In a fit of panic, it spun round like a headless chicken, scrambling to scarper.

“Oh, not a chance!”

As if I’d let my dinner make a run for it.

“Come back here, Food!”

The poor creature took off, limbs flailing about in a comically desperate fashion—its speed was something to behold, given the circumstances. But alas, no matter how swift, I was swifter.

Much swifter.

My wings snapped open, catching the air. One powerful beat, and I surged forward, closing the distance. I wasn’t flying—no way that would work in these cramped tunnels. But gliding? That I could do. It was low, predatory, and efficient. Each motion was smooth, my body streamlined, my muscles working in perfect sync. The Flight skill’s innate knowledge made every movement calculated, deliberate. I barely touched the ground, claws grazing the stone with each leap. It wasn’t just running—it was a hybrid, blending agility with the short bursts of a glide. Fast, silent, lethal.

The creeper’s legs flailed, scrambling to escape. Its movements were frantic now, pain twitching through its body. It zig-zagged through the tunnel, probably trying to lose me in the twists it likely knew well from hunting in these parts. But I was a step ahead, predicting each turn, the airflow from earlier giving me an edge.

I narrowed my eyes, wings snapping once more. A single powerful beat shot me forward, even faster. Stamina wasn’t an issue here. I could’ve used Quick Dash, but it wasn’t necessary. Each precise step and wingbeat was closing the gap. Five feet. Three. One.

My claws extended, razor-sharp and ready.

With one last burst of speed, I pounced. Echo Claw.

My claws sank into the creeper’s spine, the impact sending a shockwave through my body. Then came the echo, a secondary impact, doubling the damage. The creature let out a final, guttural screech as I pinned it to the ground, dust and dirt scattering as my tail coiled around its legs, immobilizing it completely.

No hesitation. No remorse. The hunt was done, and the victor was me.

I opened my jaws wide, and with one quick, brutal Spectral Crunch, I severed its spine. The chase had ended as quickly as it had begun.

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

[Experience Points acquired.]

Well, that’s just grand. No level up, no significant gains. Progress slower than a sloth on sedatives. Ugh! I craved depths, damn it! Dropping the severed spine from my jaws, I licked the metallic tang of blood off my gnashers.

Right, so, I’d already munched through six monsters today. Not exactly ravenous... but far from stuffed, either.

Without any pomp, I scooped up the creeper’s limp body, clutching it close with my claws while balancing on my hind legs. My wings stretched out to steady me, and lo and behold, I actually managed to stay upright—a neat little trick I’d picked up since my recent upgrades. One step. Two. A flutter of wings. Not quite flight, but enough to glide smoothly out of the hot zone.

Creepers always mobbed up. Sticking around for a mid-battle snack would be asking for trouble.

I followed the tunnel’s draft, wings beating to keep up a brisk pace. Eventually, I found the narrow passage I’d spotted earlier. Just the ticket.

Squeezing in, I dragged the creeper’s body behind me. Safe enough, I reckond.

Bon Appétit.

Without further ado, I tucked in.

[Morphogen source assimilated.]

[Morphogens acquired: +2.]

[Mana Devourer activated.]

[Maximum Mana increased: +2.]

This phase was going to be a slow burner, wasn’t it? Still, I couldn’t grumble—my mana had bumped up by 2 this time! Clearly, higher-level cores gave me a more substantial mana boost. Duly noted. I imagined there had to be a limit to how much I could store, but where that limit was? Who knew? Fifty, at least. Surely.

Before venturing deeper into the dungeon, I poked my snout out of my hidey-hole. All clear. Ideal time for a little practice. There was this basic mana drill I recalled—from the school, of course. Once a mage began to feel their mana, they practiced expelling it deliberately, forcing it out through their fingers. I had claws, but the principle was the same. I had the mana to spare, and it was an excellent way to improve my Mana Manipulation. Might as well take advantage of it.

I let the mana flow through my veins, focusing on each movement, and then expelled it forcefully from my claws. Each pulse of energy left me more attuned to its rhythm, more in control. I repeated the process until I had just three mana points left. No need to go completely dry—I needed some in reserve, just in case. Now, I’d wait and see how long it took to recover.

***

I trotted through the tunnels, moving with a catlike grace, one eye keenly fixed on my mana bar. As soon as it topped off at 15 points, I stopped counting. Hmm, three minutes to recover a point, was it? Not too shabby. Occasionally faster, sometimes a touch slower, but a rough average would do. Three minutes per point—acceptable, if not brilliant.

Feeling rather pleased with myself, I shut the screen and turned my attention back to the tunnels. The hues lit up my path as I moved, though I trusted more than just my eyes. Pausing, I drew in a deep breath, almost tasting the air. Something was amiss in the distance. While the usual airflow through these tunnels trickled like tiny streams, this felt different—a great, swirling vortex. This had to be the way down. No two ways about it.

I let my Airflow skill lead the way now, edging closer, stealthily creeping toward it. So close. Almost to the depths! The tunnel veered sharply left, and I knew the source was just beyond that bend. But as I prepared to turn, the hues glinting off the walls unveiled something... unexpected. Or perhaps not.

Grey exoskeletons, lurking against the ceiling, perfectly camouflaged. Four of them.

Naturally. Why should anything ever be simple for me?