Ahh, the mont I opened my eyes, I felt it.
This body of mine… this ti, it was massive.
It felt weird. Almost too weird. Not just because of the size—though that was definitely new—but because of the shell surrounding . A cocoon of turbulent air that wrapped around like a solid storm.
The first thing I noticed was the darkness. Absolute. Nothing beyond the shell was visible. Just the howling void of storm and shadow pressing in.
Sure, my size felt strange, but not unfamiliar. This ti, I was at least three tis bigger than before—roughly the size of a large horse, previously. Now? Towering. I did a quick check:
Limbs—pillar-thick.
Talons—clicked. Razor-delight.
Tail—a battering ram with scales.
Wings—twitched instinctively, but bound by the shell. Still, the wingspan was imnse—I felt it.
Neck—viper-graceful. Nowhere to stretch it here.
And the tentacles—ah. Anchor chains dipped in nace.
Yeah. I was absolutely not fitting into my old room anymore.
Guess it was ti to break out, get to hiding again, and—hopefully—just once enjoy so peace without anyone trying to murder or detonate . The storm shell radiated isolation. Even my air sense was dulled—limited only to the confines of this shell.
But before I did anything else...
“System! Bring your dusty arse here.”
A familiar panel blinked into place in front of .
Mission Progress:
Study the Case – Absorb all the sordid little details. Who’s lying? Who’s worse? (Progress: 1/1)
Render a Ruling – Pass judgnt that satisfies Xaleth. It all hinges on a single order. (Progress: 1/1)
Optional: Identify Hidden Threads – Notice anomalies or hidden truths for a bonus reward. (Progress: 0/?) (Incomplete)
Rewards:
Xaleth’s Spellbook
Bonus Rewards:
1 Unique Species Skill available in Skill Shop
10 to all stats
100 Morphogen
2 Skill Points
Huh. Still no clue what “hidden threads” I was supposed to notice. Sothing in that vision, probably—so secret buried in the taphors. Well, it could stay buried. Curiosity gnawed, sure, but it was too late to chase it now.
Besides, the bonus rewards were looking juicy.
Hold up—what did it an by additional species skill? And a unique one at that?
The last evolution's shop had been disappointing. Just one extra skill. Tail-constrict or tentacle-whip. h. But I had a feeling this ti would be different. Bigger evolution, bigger pool. And if they were labeling it unique, I wasn’t going to be disappointed.
As for the spellbook... where was it?
I focused on the reward.
And imdiately, I felt it—like a ntal thread tugging at the edge of my mind. A pulse of understanding washed through .
I had the book.
It was mine.
It just tugged at my consciousness, whispering “summon eeee.” Bad idea. This claustrophobic eggshell was no place for spell arts and crafts. It could wait until I wasn’t wedged in like a canned dragon.
Later then. When I was safe. Anywhere but here.
I shifted focus to the second screen floating in the air.
Mission Progress:
Cleanse the Streets – Slay or capture the wraith-summoning necromancers. (Progress: 5/7)
Follow the Rot – Track the leader. (Progress: 1/1)
Save the City – You failed to stop the elven commander, and he unleashed a beast that should’ve detonated and leveled everything around you. You stopped it anyway. (Progress: 1/1)
Kill/Capture the Elven Commander (Progress: 0/1)
…Wait.
The quest was still ongoing?
I thought it would disappear once I averted the middle district’s apocalyptic ltdown. Technically, I failed—didn’t stop the plan in ti. But I also succeeded—prevented the destruction anyway.
I leaned in ntally, scanning the quest panel again.
Sure enough, sothing had changed.
PENALTY: None.
The looming punishnt—gone.
Replaced with silence. A blank line.
Guess the system didn’t know what to make of it either. I’d screwed up the intended outco, but still dragged the city back from the brink. That... kind of sumd up my entire existence, didn’t it?
Still, one task remained.
Kill or Capture the Elven Commander.
That preening, bone-bedazzled twiglord wasn’t on my imdiate radar. But mark my words—he’d get a front-row seat to my special brand of hospitality.
Eventually.
I’d peel his hide like a overripe fruit. Lace his morning tea with acid ants. Let them nibble a path from his gullet to his gallbladder. Mail his kneecaps to his childhood teddy bear.
The thought pulled a deep, low chuckle from sowhere in the dark corners of my mind.
ss with the dragon, get the pyrotechnics. Patience, though. Karma’s a sniper, not a shotgun. He’d waltz into my crosshairs eventually. Maybe with a soliloquy about destiny. Adorable.
But that was a soday problem. For now, I dismissed the quest screen. Elf hunting wasn’t on today’s docket. Unless one materialized mid-swing, grinning like a lobotomized goblin.
Right now?
I wanted to see what I got out of all this.
“System—stats. Show the loot.”
Na: Jade
Level: 1
Species: Quantum Arbiter (Draconis) (V)
Alignnt: Judgent (Lightning), Freedom (Dark)
Attributes:
Strength: 404
Durability: 291
Intelligence: 449
Willpower: 286
Mana Points (MP): 677/677
Dark Mana Points (Wraith Heart): 100/100
Quantum Mana Points (Quantum Node): 200/200
Stamina Points (SP): 1041/1041
Abilities:
Mana Devourer
Distortion Cloak
Reality Gremlin Paradox
Quantum Attunent
Alignnt Abilities (2/5):
Thunder Verdict
Court of Quantum Edicts
Species Skills:
Resonance Roar: Level 1 (II)
Reinforced Scales: Level 5 (II)
Advanced Flight: Level 4 (II)
This content has been unlawfully taken from ; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Rich Respiration: Level 5 (II)
Breath of Shadows: Level 9 (II)
Adaptive Grip: Level 3 (II)
Fla Jet: Level 4 (II)
Advanced Mana Manipulation: Level 8 (II)
Advanced Core Stabilization: Level 5 (II)
Constrict: Level 2 (I)
Exclusive Skills:
Transformation: Level 4 (I)
Quantum Affinity: Level 1 (I)
Techniques (1/2):
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)
Dinsional Lamina: Resonance-Stabilizing mbranes, Phase Microfilant Clusters (III)
Dinsional Convergence Tendrils: Reactive Tendrils, Refined Neural Pathways (III)
Quantum Nexus (I) ( 0)
Resources:
Skill Points: 62
Morphogens: 249
Deep… heaving… breaths.
The heavy stat bonuses were nice, sure—but the one thing I didn’t know from the damn book was how much mana I’d end up with after evolving.
And then I saw it.
HOLY THALADOR.
Six hundred and seventy-seven points of mana?!?
Plus another 300 from my supplental cores?
What the actual fuck?!
Before this evolution, I had what—153 mana? Toss in the 30 from the supplental wraith core… yeah, decent. But now?
Now even that core seed to have undergone so kind of tamorphosis, bumping its contribution from 30 to a clean 100.
But honestly, it didn’t even matter.
Because right now, I was holding more mana in my core supplent than I had total last evolution.
977 mana.
My mouth started watering at the possibilities. So much mana. What the hell couldn’t I do now?
Everything else seed more or less the sa. Mostly.
Except… one thing.
Sothing had changed—sothing fundantal.
I’d attuned with the concept of darkness too.
Could people even do that? Resonate with multiple core elents? Was that a thing? Or was this just a dragon perk? No clue. I didn’t have the background or the knowledge to make a proper guess.
But that wasn’t the only new toy in the box.
There was the Quantum Nexus.
An organ unlike anything else.
It felt weird—alien, yet intimately mine. Located just behind my chest, small but impossibly dense, with slender filants threading throughout my body like living circuits.
Right now, it was dormant. Silent.
So, naturally, I poked it.
I reached out through my Quantum Node—
FWUMP.
The Nexus woke hungry, slurping mana like a parched demigod.
Not even a second passed and it had devoured a hundred points from the Quantum Node.
I slamd the faucet shut.
“Sweet screaming void,” I hissed.
This thing was a mana black hole.
And it was only half full.
I hesitated… then grimaced and let it keep drinking.
Another hundred gone.
And then, finally—completion.
The feeling of fullness. Of connection. The Nexus was ready.
200 points of Quantum mana. That’s how much it took to fuel it entirely.
Two hundred.
To put that into perspective, those overcharged lightning blasts I used to fire—the ones that shattered my veins and made bleed power? Those cost maybe fifty, max.
Even my fire gland—my volatile, energy-spewing death organ—was so much cheaper than this thing.
But then again…
The Quantum Nexus didn’t spit fire or launch bolts.
It made clones. Not illusions. Not cheap tricks. Clones.
Would they be brainless at puppets? Smug, sentient mini-s? If they packed my strength and durability? Terrifying.
Would they share my mana pool? Have their own? No idea. I’d have to test it. Carefully.
All I knew was this: whatever this power was, it was starting to shatter any sense of normalcy I had left.
I was itching to test-drive this madness when dread sucker-punched my euphoria. Right. I’m still squatting in a giant egg above the clouds. I couldn’t waste ti here.
People would have noticed I’d gone missing. And if anyone connected the dots between that “enigmatic silver-scaled drakkari” and ?
I’d be so deep in shit I’d hit magma.
First things first—I needed information. Lay low, stay hidden, see what the situation looked like below.
So, Intel. Vanish. Spy the surface circus. If safe, maybe slink back to the Alchemy Tower with a tall tale.
If.
Unfurled my wings—Thalador, they could eclipse a small barn—and heaved upward. Neck coiled, muscles screaming. The tempest-shell split with a sound like the sky clearing its throat.
Freedom.
“AHHHH! SWEET, SWEET LIBERA—” The roar choked as I scanned the horizon. Not awe. Horror.
My “solitude”? Obliterated.
Elves. One. Two. Skip math—twelve leaf-munching glitter-princes.
“—ahem,” I croaked, as the shell dissolved into cloud-scraps.
Silence. A dozen eyes wide as banquet plates.
Air Sense buzzed awake, scouting the area. No backup. Just these clowns. And… there. A pulse prickling my senses.
Foxian tails. Hair like spilled ink. Ears twitching like guilty antennae. Breath hitching in a rhythm I’d know mid-nightmare.
Pupils sharpened to dagger-points.
Lysska.
What in the seven scorched hells was she doing here?!
Oh, Thalador’s stinky left boot. Triple-fried fuck.
Lotte and Gwen’s warnings clanged in my skull: Never. Ever. Flash the scales.
And here I was—preening like a gilded monunt, sun-kissed and colossal, while Lysska stood statue-still, gaping like I was a museum exhibit labeled “Dood Dragon: Touch at Your Peril.”
Anyone with clearance in the upper circles knew what dragons looked like. And Lysska? She used to be a Vor’akh. Those terrorists worshipped dragons. Revered them. She definitely knew what she was looking at.
And the elves?
I swallowed hard.
But then sothing clicked. A spark.
Every elf here was airborne. Riding mounts.
I scanned them again—and sure enough, Doltharion stood among them.
Him. That pompous prick. Even he looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his skull, frozen stiff at the sight of .
These were elves.
And I was a dragon.
There was no room for hesitation.
Math was simple: No witnesses.
They had to die.
Right. Now.
Lysska? Future-’s migraine.
I reached inward, into my core. Now swollen, restructured, blazing with energy.
And right beneath Thunder Verdict, another spell had etched itself into the crystal architecture. Massive. Complex. So densely written it made my head ache just trying to comprehend it.
I didn’t need to understand it. I just needed to use it.
I latched onto it with my will—and imdiately, it drank from my mana like a dying man in a desert.
But that flicker of power seed to stir one idiot to action. An elven rider twitched, hand jerking up in a pre-cast reflex.
My wings flinched. Just once.
And in a blink—my massive head was inches from his face.
There was no ti to marvel at the sheer speed I possessed now. Not with so many potential threats.
“Who gave you permission to twitch, you knife-eared cunt?”
I growled the words, letting that draconic arrogance drip like venom.
His eyes widened in horror, his arm frozen mid-spell—
—and then blood gushed from his mouth.
He looked down.
My claw—as large as his torso—was buried through his chest like a spear.
He didn’t even get to scream. The light fled his eyes before I even twitched again.
I tore sideways, shredding his body and hurling the pieces off his mount. The mount—a massive eagle-like beast with four shadowy limbs—screeched in panic.
WHAP.
A tentacle snagged it mid-panic.
SQUELCH.
One squeeze. Now a feathery stress ball leaking jam.
Down the hatch. Crunch.
Hmm. Monch. Monch.
Tasty. I was feeling rather hungry after my evolution, anyway. But that wasn’t the point. This wasn’t about hunger. This was a performance. A theater. A gory matinee to buy thinking ti while painting the sky red.
“I—IT’S A D—DRAGON!”
The scream finally ripped from one of the riders. And of course, it was Doltharion. That coward.
Still, his sound broke whatever fragile sense of courage remained. Faces whitened. Bodies stiffened. Fear bled into the air like ink in water.
Even with my Distortion Cloak still active—flickering, blurring my edges—so of them could still see clearly. Sharp eyes. Red core, at least 6 of them.
And I was a red core now too.
But none of them… felt dangerous.
I didn’t know where the certainty ca from—instinct, maybe, or sothing deeper. But I could feel their strength against mine like paper brushing stone. Even the one I’d already gutted—he had a red core. I’d felt a flicker of resistance when my claws sank into him. That was all.
That resistance felt laughable now. My claws pulsed with Quantum mana. The attunent was working. Claws were my weapons—so were my teeth, my tentacles, every inch of . I could feel all of it humming, resonating with that elusive current of Quantum mana.
Only one presence gave pause.
Lysska. Still hovering behind . Still watching. Still not attacking.
What the fuck was she doing here? What any of these knife-eared fucks were doing here didn’t matter anymore. This secret—my secret—was going to die with them.
Except Lysska.
My core pulsed. The runes of the new spell blazed to life. And suddenly—drain. Heavy. Brutal. Imdiate. 300 mana points, gone in a flash.
The Quantum mana surged like lightning in a thunderhead—elusive, unpredictable, alive.
[Court of Quantum Edicts]
Nothing changed outwardly. No flashy light show. No crackling sky. But I felt it—the reality shift. And so did they.
Every elf tensed. Even their mounts froze.
They didn’t understand what I’d done. But they felt it. Everyone did. The spell wasn’t finished yet. A knot of Quantum mana coiled in my throat, humming with potential.
And I knew what to do.
Declare a rule. Make it law. Enforce it with goddamn thunder.
I opened my jaws—and the sky shook with my voice.
“FLIGHT IS FORBIDDEN HERE!”
The declaration surged out in a pulse, invisible but undeniable. A law carved into the fabric of the sky. And just like that—I felt it. Everyone nearby. Tagged. Bound. Caught in the rule.
Every flying fool here just beca a felon.
Including Lysska’s bird.
Shit.
Instinct overrode panic. I tweaked the spell, sparing her crow—10 mana gone. Worth it.
The rest?
Welco to the no-fly zone.
A 35-ter radius of fuck around and find out.
And guess what elves' mounts love doing? Flying.
The first strike hit like divine spite.
Purple lightning erupted from below, vaporizing an elf and his mount mid-air. Poof. No ash, no scream—just gone, like a snowman in a volcano.
His core was Yellow. Didn’t save him.
Rules were broken. Judgnt served.
And I was the jury, judge, and electric chair.
But it wasn’t a slaughter yet. So of them still had enough brain cells left to throw up shield charms. The violet lightning was still coming down—raw, rciless, every three seconds—but now it was eting resistance. It slamd into barriers, sizzling mana-laced air, fracturing the shields but not quite breaking through.
The yellow cores were dead before they understood what was happening.
No shields. No chance. Just vaporized where they hovered.
Red cores were a different beast. They had the mana. They had the gear. They knew when to run. Sure, they'd normally cover 35 ters in seconds—but not with those barrier charms on. Those things slowed you down to a crawl, like moving through syrup at a quarter speed.
“RUN! FUCKING RUN AWAY! IT’S A DOMAIN! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”
Doltharion screeched.
A domain, huh?
That tracked.
And just like that, panic fully set in. Elves yanked at reins, urged mounts to bolt in every direction. The sky beca a blur of feathers, screeches, shadow-limbed beasts diving toward cloud cover.
But they were still flying. Still breaking the rule. Still inside my court.
And the lightning didn’t care.
Every three seconds, it struck. All of them.
Not one bolt. Not a warning. An executioner’s blitz—one strike per rule-breaker, falling like judgnt from an angry god.
Nine riders. Nine bolts.
Screams ribboned the air. Shields spiderwebbed. One yellow-core elf dissolved mid-curse; another plumted, trailing a cot’s tail of smoke.
Tick. Three seconds. Boom.
Tick. Three more. Boom. Boom.
So far, six elves had died. One red, five yellow. One by my claw, five by the domain.
Only six red cores remained.
I didn’t feel threatened. Not even slightly.
Their barriers were stopgaps, not salvation. Scatter all they wanted—the only exit here was a one-way trip to the compost heap.
My “domain” was limited—35 ters. But distance was a problem I could solve. And I already had the solution.
My Quantum Nexus pulsed in my chest—fully charged, crackling with quantum mana.
I grinned, baring rows of glimring, quantum-attuned fangs.
Let’s audit what 200 mana bought .
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