The system's cold and mechanical prompt appeared in Rayder's mind:
> "To evolve to the next stage—Titan Behemoth—requires 10,000 Evolution Points."
"Ten thousand points…" Rayder muttered in disbelief, his head buzzing as if struck by a sledgehammer.
He instinctively checked his system panel again. His current Evolution Points: 2.
Only two.
The difference was staggering, like an unbridgeable chasm between the present and an unreachable summit.
He tried to recall his most recent battle. It had taken him a full day of strategic planning, near-death maneuvers, and every ounce of power to slay that monstrous, cunning sandworm. That single victory had earned him just two Evolution Points.
> "If killing a single high-level sandworm gives two points…" he began calculating grimly, "how many would I need to face to get even close to 10,000?"
The ruins of Valyria were swarming with sandworms. But only a fraction of them were strong enough to give Evolution Points. Worse still, they were excellent at hiding and ambushing their prey.
Even if Rayder hunted tirelessly—day and night—with his current strength, he might be able to slay ten of them in a month. That would yield a mere twenty points.
In one year, assuming everything went perfectly, he would only earn a little over two hundred points.
At that rate, reaching 10,000 points would take decades—far longer than Egon had left to live.
Rayder felt suffocated by the hopelessness of it all.
> "I'm just a twelve-year-old kid…" he thought bitterly, "not some battle-hardened warlord who can slay monsters endlessly."
He still had to grow, explore, and evolve—not just physically, but emotionally and mentally.
Worse yet, he didn't have decades.
Red Dragon Egon had only nine years left in its natural lifespan.
A sinking feeling of futility settled in Rayder's chest. He had just formed a bond with this powerful, ancient companion… and now he might have to watch it wither away.
> "It seems… extending Egon's life isn't going to be simple at all," Rayder murmured, his voice tinged with bitter helplessness.
The system had felt like an omnipotent gift—a cheat code for survival in this deadly world. But now, the harsh truth was evident: Evolution Points were the cruel currency of progress, and there was no shortcut.
He gazed once more at Egon's aging profile in the pet panel. The spark of hope that had flared in his heart was now smothered under the cold, heavy blanket of reality.
But Rayder wasn't someone who gave up easily.
He opened the system's deeper menus, poring through the definitions and rules surrounding "Evolution." Perhaps there was something he'd missed—some loophole or hidden mechanism.
Every word on the interface was sharp, clinical, and stripped of comfort. Still, he read each line with unwavering focus, analyzing them like a scholar searching for a sacred truth.
And then, something caught his eye.
Whether it was Egon or Black Dragon Im, their next evolutionary stage led to the same formidable form:
> Titan Behemoth
And each required 10,000 Evolution Points—no exceptions.
That number again. Ten thousand.
It haunted Rayder like a curse etched into stone.
He dared to wonder—what would come after Titan Behemoth? Would it be a Divine Dragon, a Draconic Overlord, or even a Dragon God?
The blurred and locked areas of the interface hinted at further stages. Unreadable numbers stretched into a sea of zeros—an evolution tree so vast, it was almost incomprehensible.
Every "0" was a battle, a drop of sweat, a brush with death.
Rayder's scalp tingled at the thought. His youthful optimism clashed with the brutal demands of this world. It was exhausting.
But then… he scrolled to Kidora's information panel—and his mood shifted.
Unlike Egon or Im, Kidora's evolution path was completely different.
The system displayed Kidora's progression not as a leap toward a defined transformation like Titan Behemoth but rather a gradual and natural growth curve, akin to a living being maturing over time.
> Kidora Evolution Path:
Infancy
Adolescence
Adulthood
Maturity
Each stage required Evolution Points, but nowhere near as many—at least not until the final transformation.
From Infancy to Adolescence, it only took dozens to a hundred points.
From Adolescence to Adulthood, maybe a few hundred to a thousand.
Only the final leap from Adulthood to Maturity required that dreaded number again—10,000 points.
Rayder stared at the figures in silent contemplation.
> "So, Kidora will also eventually need 10,000 points—but it doesn't need them all at once."
That changed everything.
Egon's and Im's evolutionary paths demanded massive, singular leaps—brutal, high-cost promotions.
But Kidora? Kidora evolved like a growing child, steadily and safely.
Rayder compared their timelines. Kidora had only just been born, still at the start of life's journey. Meanwhile, Egon and Im were like seasoned veterans, attempting to ascend even higher peaks late in life.
Perhaps this gradual evolution path was the better one. It offered short-term gains, allowed incremental progress, and could build a powerful ally step-by-step.
But Rayder knew the other side of this path too—it was long. It would take years for Kidora to fully mature, even with steady feeding of Evolution Points.
Still, what shocked him most was that even now, as a mere "infant," Kidora already possessed strength that could rival or even surpass the dragons in adulthood stages.
> "So what happens when it reaches 'Maturity'? Just how terrifying would Kidora become?"
He felt a chill of awe crawl down his spine. The name "Titan Behemoth" wasn't just a dramatic label—it represented a peak of raw biological dominance.
Perhaps even in infancy, Titan Behemoths were born superior—apex predators not just of their time, but of existence.
Humans could craft tools, build cities, and form empires, but when facing a creature whose birthright was destruction, no sword or wall could stop them.
Rayder's gaze flicked between Egon and Kidora in his pet panel. Each had their own path.
Egon: A mighty ancient being, already at the twilight of its life. To extend it, Rayder needed to climb a mountain of Evolution Points—a brutal, uphill battle.
Kidora: A creature born with limitless potential, progressing steadily and controllably, stage by stage.
Two dragons. Two roads.
And Rayder stood in the middle.
It wasn't just a question of who to evolve.
It was a deeper decision—what path of growth did he want to pursue?
Would he chase quick power spikes with enormous risks? Or embrace a long-term, stable rise that required patience?
No matter the path, the road ahead was steep.
Rayder took a deep breath, the pressure mounting again. He could feel the weight of choices piling onto his twelve-year-old shoulders.
He wanted to take the first step—anything to move forward.
He returned to Kidora's tab, hoping for a bit of hope in its less daunting evolution track.
But then, a tiny detail he'd completely overlooked before struck him like a thunderclap.
At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.
But no.
There it was, nestled under Kidora's data panel, obscured by a collapsed tab:
> "Potential Traits: Locked."
One word blinked faintly beside it.
> "Parasitic Evolution (Hidden)"
Rayder's pupils shrank.
He had never noticed this line before.
> "Parasitic Evolution…?"
The term was unfamiliar. Dangerous. Alien.
His heart pounded in his chest. Was Kidora… evolving differently from everything else because of this trait?
He quickly opened the expanded description, but the system only responded with a vague prompt:
> "Parasitic Evolution: Requires external symbiotic stimuli to unlock."
> Status: Dormant. Cannot be triggered under current conditions."
Rayder's thoughts began racing. Symbiotic? Stimuli? Dormant?
It meant that Kidora's evolution wasn't just based on points—something else entirely might shape it.
A hidden trait, deeply buried.
Was that why Kidora's power already felt so alien—why it was capable of things even veteran dragons couldn't do?
His chest tightened.
What exactly was Kidora?
He had thought it was just a dragon—albeit a powerful one.
But now… perhaps Kidora was something entirely beyond classification.
Rayder shut the panel slowly, the lingering words "Parasitic Evolution" etched into his thoughts like a mystery demanding to be solved.
For now, the only thing he was sure of was this:
The road ahead was far more complicated than he ever imagined.
And the real evolution?
It had only just begun.
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