Name: Jade

Level: 15

Species: Wraithscale (Draconis) (IV)

Attributes:

* Strength: 219

* Durability: 191

* Intelligence: 244

* Will: 186

* Mana Points (MP): 154/154

* Dark Mana Points (Wraith Heart): 30/30

* Stamina Points (SP): 305/305

Abilities:

* Mana Devourer

* Distortion Cloak

Species Skills:

* Resonance Roar: Level 1 (II)

* Reinforced Scales: Level 2 (II)

* Advanced Flight: Level 3 (II)

* Rich Respiration: Level 4 (II)

* Breath of Shadows: Level 7 (II)

* Adaptive Grip: Level 3 (II)

* Flame Jet: Level 3 (II)

* Advanced Mana Manipulation: Level 7 (II)

* Advanced Core Stabilization: Level 5 (II)

* Constrict: Level 2 (I)

Exclusive Skills:

* Transformation: Level 2 (I)

* Lightning Affinity: Level 4 (I)

* Dark Affinity: Level 2 (I)

Techniques (1/1):

* Phantom Dragon Dance: Level 4 (I)

Mutations:

* Eyes: Focusing Lenses, Peripheral Optimization (III)

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

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

* Wings: Hollow Bones, Mana-Infused Fibers (III)

* Legs: Joint Flexibility, Mana-Responsive Cartilage (III)

* Fire Gland: Mana Reservoir, Mana Conservation (III)

* Macro-Trophic Sac: Stamina Surge Reservoir, Toxicity Neutralizer (III)

* Mana Conduit Vasculature: Micro-Mana Control, Mana Conduit Resilience (III)

* Dimensional Lamina: Resonance-Stabilizing Membranes, Phase Microfilament Clusters (III)

* Dimensional Convergence Tendrils: Reactive Tendrils, Refined Neural Pathways (III)

Resources:

* Skill Points: 37

* Morphogens: 76

It was almost laughable how far I'd come—two months since first crossing paths with Gwen, and it felt like I'd lived through a whole saga. In that brief span, I’d learned so much—about the world, about myself. And, oh, how reckless I’d been. The thought had me chuckling. I’d fancied myself an “exotic ritual ingredient” once, what with being a manaless half-beast. But now? Now I was a dragon. Exotic? Pfft, I’d gone full gourmet. No one would get a taste, though—I'd see to that. The days of reckless dungeon dives were over for me.

Not that I minded. I’d found an entirely new buffet for hunting levels and morphogens—the 4th dimension. I licked my teeth at the thought. It was crawling with delectable critters, though every bite came with a side of danger. There was something sinister lingering around the city these days, keeping me on high alert. Not to mention, the beasts in that dimension had a... peculiar flair for combat. Still, if a ghostly monster fancied itself brave enough to try me, I’d happily prove it wrong.

For now, my attention turned to the glowing stats on my screen. Blimey, had I grown. My strength was absurdly high—if I punched these walls, I’d probably bring the whole place down. Tempting as it was, I’d save that test for later. I could lug around far more weight now, and my durability? Through the roof. In both dragon and half-dragon form, I could take a beating and still be laughing. Shame those stats didn’t fully translate to my suppressed drakkari form, but one can’t have it all.

At least my mental stats carried over without a hitch, and oh, were they glorious. Intelligence was a staggering 244—impressive, even for me. Was I smarter? Maybe. What it really meant was sharper thinking, faster problem-solving. With tentacles at my disposal, I could juggle five tasks at once, and everything just... clicked. My memory was razor-sharp, my instincts keener than ever. A proper upgrade.

Then there was Will, a stat I’d come to respect only after my first 4th-dimension encounter. Those horrors attacked the mind—suppression, possession, parasitic nonsense. Will let me fend off their meddling, resist fear magic, and stay in control. It also fine-tuned my magic control, a perk I deeply appreciated.

And with high Will, mana recovery was a treat now. I gained a full point every 15 seconds, a huge leap from before. Throw in my upgraded Core Stabilization skill, and that time dropped to a mere 4 seconds. Smooth as silk. The upgrade also let me stabilize my mana mid-channeling, making me frighteningly efficient.

Speaking of upgrades, I’d polished off quite a few lately.

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Some skills had crept up a notch, though none were flirting with their caps just yet—though a bit of effort might nudge a few closer. I did pick up a new one for efficient tentacle constriction. Handy, that. But the real meat of my progress lay in the mutations, which had taken quite the leap forward.

Both Dimensional Lamina and Dimensional Convergence Tendrils got a double dose of upgrades, propelling them to Tier III. The first upgrade for Lamina was a practical delight: mana efficiency. I could stretch my time in the 4th dimension longer with less mana bleed and fewer tedious cooldowns, which felt like the mana equivalent of squeezing blood from a stone. The second upgrade added a dash of tactical flair.

I held up a claw, letting a trickle of mana seep in. It vanished from view, an icy shiver rippling up my arm. Now I could phase parts of myself into the 4th dimension selectively—ideal for slipping past an incoming strike without committing to a full spectral retreat. All told, it was a sharper, wilier tool in my arsenal.

As for the tendrils, they’d grown into something truly nasty. The first upgrade gave them a new party trick: attuning to the 4th dimension’s residual energy. Lotte reckoned it wasn’t quite mana, but rather the glue that kept that plane from unraveling into chaos. By absorbing slivers of this energy, my tendrils became excellent disrupters of spells and mana flows—like a magical spanner in the works. They also gained a bit of muscle, making the Constrict skill truly lethal. Suffocation by spectral tentacle? Cheery thought.

The second upgrade turned my tendrils into spellcasting conduits. With mana veins now threading through them, I could cast short, sharp spells directly from my tentacles. While the amount of mana veins in them didn’t hold a candle to my claws, the ability to sling spells from a shadowy dimensional perch was too good to pass up.

Lastly, my Wings and Legs received some serious reinforcement at tier 3. They could now channel raw mana, boosting both durability and offensive versatility. The wings, for example, could store lightning mana, which I could unleash as arcs of thunder on command, or dark mana for a smokescreen fit for a dramatic exit. As for the legs, channelling Lightning mana in them turned me into a streak of pure agility, while dark mana lent itself to shadowy, stealth-driven manoeuvres.

In short, I’d blossomed into quite the formidable beast—sharper, stronger, and an absolute nightmare to pin down. I let out a little giggle. Oh, how I enjoyed perusing my stat screen. A delightful reminder of just how far I’d clawed my way. But the road ahead still stretched long and winding. I wasn’t there yet. Not by a long shot. If I truly wanted to be a free dragon one day, the sort who could saunter through broad daylight without so much as a care for prying eyes, I’d need to be stronger. No, unstoppable. The kind of strength that turned the revelation of my dragon side into not a liability but a proclamation—a banner reading: “Tread carefully, or be turned to ash.”

I shook my head, snorting softly. Wishful thinking? Perhaps. But one day... surely. My claws clenched tightly, as if to hold onto the dream.

My reverie was interrupted as Belle padded onto the bed beside me. The little badger had evidently wrapped up her dishwashing duties. She chirped, leaning in for a well-deserved head scratch. Oh, she adored that, my clever little badger. Her rightful reward for being a good girl.

She tilted her head up, letting out a curious, “Squee?”

Ah, yes. I’d told Lotte about Belle, hadn’t I? And Lotte, in her infinite wisdom, had declared Belle my first supplicant. I understood the term well enough, though its full significance remained murky—more instinctual than intellectual. There was this odd sense of protectiveness I felt over her. In return, I’d confided to Belle about Lotte. After all, the only creatures privy to all my secrets were Lotte and Barn. Naturally, Belle wanted to meet her.

It seemed impossible at first, but then I remembered Barn had once slipped into my dreamscape. Surely Belle could do the same? Lotte certainly thought so, suggesting a ritual that would allow them to meet. She seemed almost giddy about it, truth be told. Ah, I could hardly wait. Lotte had said she wanted to talk with Belle. Well, naturally!

“Soon!” I told Belle, who chirped in contentment.

I had most of the ingredients for the ritual, barring a few elusive ones. Thankfully, I’d put in a request with Vasilisa’s network, and she’d been only too happy to lend her resources. Ah, the perks of being connected to civilization—and to people who wield some influence.

According to Lotte, the ritual would formalize Belle’s position as my supplicant. She’d grow stronger as a result, which suited me just fine. Much as I adored her, my precious little badger wasn’t exactly the sharpest fang in the maw. A power boost that gave her some bite of her own? Absolutely welcome.

After a bit of back and forth with her, I finally settled in, closing my eyes.

The waking world dissolved into mist, swirling and fracturing before reshaping itself into dreamland. First came the colours, then—snap! My eyes opened to the sight of my dragon form, sprawled on my back in an endless grassland with the sun warming my scales. Blissful.

But there was no time for idling. With a lurch, I sprang to all fours and let loose a roar that rippled across the endless grasslands. Ahhh, roaring. Pure, unbridled bliss. It was thrilling in a way few things could match, especially given how the waking world denied me such indulgence. A pity, truly.

“Perhaps you ought to reserve that energy for something a touch more… constructive,” came her voice, slipping into my mind like silk on scales.

I grinned, a toothy, unabashed grin. “Lotte!” I greeted.

She lay lounging, as she so often did, her immense frame sprawled across the nearby hillside. Even from a distance, she dominated the landscape, her massive, black, draconic form blending effortlessly into the idyllic surroundings. Her eyes—each one larger than my entire body—remained closed, her head tilted slightly as though she were humming along to some ancient, otherworldly melody.

I winced, just a little. “I, uh, tried to channel it elsewhere. Might’ve slightly underestimated my opponent…”

That was when she opened her eyes. Twin pools of slitted crimson, so vast they might hold small villages within. I’d grown a fair bit myself, but standing before her was a constant reminder of how small I still was in comparison. One day, though. I’d be as massive as her. No, bigger! Hmph.

“Let me guess—a great deal happened.” Her voice in my head carried a rich amusement, but her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Oh, she was itching to hear what I’d been up to, no doubt about that. I puffed up, wearing my smugness like a second set of scales. Of course, even when things didn’t go entirely to plan, I always made the most of it.

“Wellllll,” I began, drawing the moment out, “I gained information, for starters. Found out which parts of the city are touched by that thing’s rot. A thread to follow. Might’ve even made a decent impression on one of the local gangs. You know how it is—networking opens channels of information. And I’ve got another thread to tug on now.”

I laid it all out for her as usual, detailing everything from my discoveries to Gwen’s message—a plea for help investigating the rot. Gwen could handle it herself, of course, but she was evidently tied up with whatever mysterious plans she was concocting in Lithrindel.

Lotte listened as she always did, her massive form exuding calm amusement. When I finished, she shifted slightly, leaning closer—so close I could see the intricate patterns of her scales, each one an artwork in itself. She brought her ever-present mug closer to me, steam curling lazily from its depths. Its smell was faintly herbal, tinged with the sweetness of a faraway land I’d never been to.

“So,” she said, her voice in my head casual but probing, “what have you decided?”

I smirked, leaning back on my haunches. “Oh, obviously I’ll help her. Since you and Gwen are both so insistent on keeping me in the dark about what this ‘thing’ is, I might as well find out for myself!” My voice carried just the right hint of teasing.

She arched a brow ridge. “Joking, of course,” I added quickly. “I’ll keep to the shadows, collect information, and pass it along to Gwen.”

Lotte nodded, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as if she were calculating the trajectory of every choice I’d just laid bare. “Passivity,” she remarked, “was never going to suit you. Best to give that restless energy of yours an outlet.”

I dipped my head in agreement, a firm nod to seal the plan. Naturally, sitting around twiddling my claws was never my style. Before I could add another word, however, the ground beneath me gave a deep, ominous rumble. My head snapped toward Lotte, my expression sourer than spoiled milk.

“Do we really need to do this every single day?”

Her chuckle slithered into my mind, rich with amusement. “It was you, little one, who chose this path. And I did warn you—it would not be easy. To truly embody the essence of lightning’s elusiveness, you’ll need to give it your all.”

The landscape around me twisted in response to her words. Massive towers of dark metal emerged from the earth, each one etched with runes that glowed faintly like watchful eyes. Their jagged peaks looked more like the blades of a colossal forest of swords, the kind that could cleave mountains as casually as I’d swat a fly. Above, the sky churned with thunderclouds, heavy and volatile. Fog rolled in, thick as soup, carrying the faint rhythm of distant thunder, a low drumbeat promising havoc.

Without a whisper or rustle, Lotte disappeared. She was maddeningly good at that. “Good luck,” her warm voice drifted through the ether, just as the first arc of lightning struck.

The scales along my body prickled as though charged with static. I barely managed to sidestep the sudden bolt, though it nicked me just enough to draw the faintest trickle of blood. A sharp wince escaped me—pain here was a luxury, one that only existed because Lotte allowed it. And, oh, she could revoke that privilege any time she fancied.

Before I could catch my breath, another bolt cut through the fog with merciless precision. This time, I dodged cleanly, my limbs coiling and springing with a dancer’s grace.

And so it began. This was just the beginning.

Lotte, for all her wisdom, was an unapologetic sadist when it came to her so-called ‘training.’