Continuing his path through the scorching, desolate landscape, Arthur’s every footstep sent tremors through the cracked earth, dislodging chunks of lava rock and scattering ash. The heat here was stifling, but he relished it; his thick scales absorbed the warmth, invigorating his monstrous frame as he ventured deeper into the Scorching Badlands. His destination lay ahead, marked by a faint yellow signal blinking on his map. Unlike the vibrant red or dull green signals of lesser creatures, this yellow hue indicated something unique—a new challenge.
The jagged canyon stretched out before him, walls rising steep and high on either side, casting strange shadows that flickered in the heat. Arthur’s sharpened senses scanned every crack, crevice, and ledge for signs of life, yet the canyon remained eerily silent. It seemed empty, yet the sensation of being watched prickled across his scales.
As he moved further, Arthur felt a strange surge deep within his core. His horns flared, and a sudden, intense pressure flooded his mind. A flash of light exploded in his vision, blinding him momentarily. His surroundings disappeared, replaced by another place, another time.
He stood, or rather, he felt himself standing, in the heart of a sprawling city that stretched into the night sky. Glowing towers and blinking lights pulsed around him, and distant voices buzzed from all directions. It was a world of stone, metal, and glass—strange yet familiar. He felt an intense pull toward someone nearby, a figure cloaked in shadows. They reached for him, their hand outstretched.
Just as quickly as it came, the vision faded, leaving Arthur in the oppressive silence of the canyon. He staggered, shaking his massive head to dispel the residual disorientation. That vision—those city lights, that figure—felt real, too real to dismiss as some system glitch or environmental influence. There was something… or someone in those memories, buried in the depths of his mind.
With a snarl, he forced the thoughts aside. There was no time for distractions; his focus had to remain sharp in this land where the weak were devoured. But as he raised his head to survey the canyon again, movement caught his eye.
A flicker of red scales darted from the shadows—a lizard-like creature, moving with predatory speed and stealth. Then another, and another. Arthur’s [Analyze] activated instinctively.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Species Identified: Ember Strikers
Classification: Fire-based, lizard-like predators
Size: 6 to 8 feet long
Abilities: Extreme speed and coordinated ambush tactics; capable of cloaking in heat mirages to remain undetected
They struck in unison, a coordinated ambush designed to disorient and overwhelm. The first Ember Striker lunged at his left side, its blazing claws slashing toward his armored flank. Another slashed from above, aiming for his head, while the third circled behind him, teeth bared and ready to sink into his leg.
Arthur roared, an earth-shattering sound that echoed off the canyon walls. The roar alone forced a split-second hesitation in the creatures, and in that moment, he unleashed his [Destructo Beams]. Thin, pulsing beams of red energy shot from his horns, zipping through the air and slicing into the oncoming Strikers. The first was incinerated mid-leap, its body disintegrating in a burst of ash.
The others, however, adapted. They scattered, using their natural camouflage to blur into the heat waves around him, turning almost invisible. Their scaled bodies merged seamlessly with the distorted air, making them hard to track.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and he activated his [Psychic] skill, feeling the familiar strain as his mind expanded, seeking out the creatures’ presences. He could sense them now, faint shadows against the backdrop of his mental landscape. He shifted his weight, swinging his thick tail in a sweeping arc, catching one of the hidden Strikers mid-dash. The creature let out a strangled cry as it was hurled into the canyon wall, its body reduced to a charred smear.
The final Ember Striker saw its chance and lunged at his throat, its claws extended. Arthur’s horns flared, his psychic energy surging, and the creature froze mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. It struggled, snarling, its limbs thrashing helplessly. Arthur held it there for a moment, savoring the sight of its desperation, before slamming it down onto the ground with brutal force. The impact silenced it instantly.
Silence returned to the canyon, broken only by the faint crackle of embers and the slow drip of lava seeping from the canyon walls. Arthur exhaled, letting the tension drain from his muscles. The battle had been swift, a reminder of his dominance, but the vision still lingered, a ghostly imprint at the edge of his consciousness.
His gaze shifted to the canyon floor, where he noticed something strange—a worn, ancient pillar jutting from the ground, half-buried in ash. Symbols covered its charred surface, geometric patterns that seemed almost familiar. His psychic senses flared again, unbidden, and the image of a human hand tracing similar symbols flashed before his eyes. His own hand.
Arthur growled, his claws digging into the ground as he fought to push the memory away. He was no human. Not anymore. The memories were distractions, relics of a past that held no power over him. And yet, something deep within him stirred—a whisper of doubt, a spark of curiosity.
As he continued through the canyon, the landscape shifted, and soon he found himself at the edge of what looked like an ancient, abandoned village. Blackened bones and shattered clay jars lay scattered in the ashen remains of structures, silent witnesses to a long-forgotten past. He activated [Analyze], his eyes scanning over the charred remnants as the system confirmed what he suspected.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Ancient Site of Human Habitation Description: Ruins of a nomadic fire-worshipping society. Evidence suggests they engaged in ritualistic sacrifices to Volcranax, the island’s guardian beast, in exchange for protection from other monstrous threats.
The villagers had left their mark here, the traces of their existence mingling with the molten rock and hardened lava. For a moment, Arthur could almost see them—the people who had lived here, huddling around fires, casting glances at the looming volcano, perhaps even praying for mercy from a monster far greater than themselves.
This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.
Another flicker of memory surfaced, unbidden. He saw a pair of hands—not claws or scales, but human hands, calloused and strong. They were his hands, carving a path, building something out of stone and wood. He felt the same determination he had now, a relentless drive to survive, to conquer the challenges before him. But there was also a sense of connection, a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
The memory faded, and Arthur let out a low rumble, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Whatever he had once been, it no longer mattered. He was a monster now, a creature of destruction and dominance. The instincts to survive and grow stronger were all that defined him, and he wasn’t about to let sentimental fragments cloud his purpose.
Moving past the ruins, he caught a scent—a faint trace of something alive, yet weak. Curious, he followed the scent, his massive form moving through the scorched landscape with surprising stealth. Rounding a bend, he found the source.
A lone figure, huddled and frail, leaned against a charred tree, their skin sunken and eyes hollow. This was no ordinary human. The figure’s garb was strange, woven with beads and markings that matched the symbols he’d seen on the ancient pillar. Despite their emaciated appearance, their gaze held a glimmer of defiance as they looked up at him.
"You… you are… it," the figure rasped, barely able to speak. "The one… who brings the end…"
Arthur tilted his massive head, narrowing his eyes. The human’s words were nonsensical, yet something about them resonated in the hollow recesses of his mind. He watched as the figure struggled to rise, their voice gaining strength as they spoke of the Cursed Crown, an artifact of immense power, created by their ancestors to combat Volcranax.
"The beast destroyed us," they whispered, their voice tinged with bitterness. "Took everything… our people, our land… all because we dared to resist. The Cursed Crown… it holds power beyond anything in this land."
Arthur listened, feigning interest, but his mind was already calculating. The human’s knowledge of ancient power intrigued him, but he felt no loyalty, no obligation to their plight. He was curious about the artifact’s power and whether it could serve his own purposes, nothing more.
"Why… do you not speak?" the human murmured, gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and fear. "Are you… merely a beast?"
Arthur’s gaze hardened, a faint growl escaping his throat. His horns started to release a red aura, before it tried to latch onto the human’s mind, but of course, he made sure not to release the full burden of his mental prowess unless he wanted this human brain-dead in a second.
"Watch your words, human."
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Thank you for joining Arthur’s journey through the Scorching Badlands! Your support and enthusiasm mean everything as we dive deeper into this world of monstrous battles, mysteries, and evolution. Every chapter is a step closer to unlocking Arthur’s true potential. Here’s to more epic moments ahead—thank you for reading!