Ahead lay a dark, towering rock formation, twisted and jagged. At the center of this grim shrine was a statue of Volcranax, carved from molten rock and obsidian, its eyes carved into gaping pits that seemed to glare down upon him with indomitable rage. Etched along the base of the statue were intricate murals, their depictions crude yet powerful: Volcranax and his children, each of them reigning over the Scorching Badlands with fiery, relentless might.
Arthur’s gaze swept over the carvings, lingering on each panel. The murals told tales of Volcranax’s children unleashing fury on the land, their forms massive and fierce, covered in magma and stone. Offerings lay strewn around the base of the statue—jewels blackened by fire, charred bones, and strange artifacts left by the ancient inhabitants who once feared and revered the fiery behemoth. Arthur’s claws brushed against a shard that gleamed under the light, different from the rest. He leaned closer, his reflection faintly visible in the glossy, obsidian-like surface.
As he touched it, an onslaught of memories struck him. For a brief, agonizing moment, he saw himself—smaller, frailer, human. He remembered standing in front of a mirror, consumed by his own ambitions, thoughts of control, dreams of outlasting his own limits. It was a glimpse of his humanity, the drive for dominance he had never outgrown, even in this monstrous form. A mocking voice echoed in his mind, questioning his every victory, each one rooted in a desire to rule, to never bow to anything or anyone.
The irony left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he sneered, almost amused by the twisted path he had taken. "So, this drive for power was always in me," he thought, shaking off the memory’s remnants. If anything, it only served to harden his resolve. Mortality and ambition were mere whispers of a past life, fuel for the beast he had now become. He wasn’t haunted by them; he was driven by them.
But then he sensed it—a powerful presence, a pulsing aura of heat and fury awakening from the shadows.
He focused, letting his psychic power reach out to the artifact. The ancient chains binding the creature began to shake, one by one, cracking under the force of his will.
The silence shattered as the last link broke.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
You have unlocked the chains of the Third Child of Volcranax, a descendant of the Titan of Fire. Prepare for battle.
A low, rumbling growl echoed through the darkness ahead, resonating deep in Arthur’s chest like distant thunder. A hot, fiery glow emerged from the shadows, growing brighter with every passing second. Massive claws, dark as scorched earth and glistening with magma veins, emerged from the gloom. One step. Then another. The Third Child of Volcranax was no mere beast—it was a moving mountain, a mass of volcanic muscle and fury.
It stepped fully into the light, and Arthur took it in.
The creature’s body was covered in hardened magma scales, glowing veins crisscrossing its frame, pulsating with raw, molten energy. Thick, powerful legs dug into the earth with every step, sending small tremors across the scorched ground. A towering, dragon-like head crowned its shoulders, a mouth full of jagged, serrated teeth—each dripping with searing hot magma.
Arthur felt his instincts flare, sensing the sheer strength radiating off the Third Child. This wasn’t just a creature. It was fury incarnate.
And it was staring straight at him.
Arthur’s psychic senses pulsed, reading the raw anger and territorial dominance flowing from the creature. He felt his own blood rise in response—a dark thrill, the call of the hunt echoing in his veins. No words passed between them, yet both monsters understood the stakes. Only one would leave this scorched land alive.
The Third Child’s eyes flared. And with a bellow that shook the Desolate Plains, it charged.
Arthur braced himself, activating [Hardened Carapace] in an instant. The creature’s first strike came fast—a molten-coated claw slamming down at him with deadly force. Arthur absorbed the hit, gritting against the impact, the sheer weight of it shaking his massive frame.
A second blow. A third. The ground splintered beneath his feet as the force of each hit tore through the land, sending molten fragments of earth flying. Arthur barely sidestepped a swipe of the creature’s fangs, his own tail lashing out, smacking against the beast’s molten hide.
It was like hitting a wall of fire.
But Arthur wasn’t just a creature of brute force; he was clever. He let his [Psychic] ability flare, focusing hard, sending a wave of disorienting fear into the monster’s mind. The Third Child paused, if only for a split second—its enormous, glowing eyes flickering with confusion.
And that was enough.
Arthur lunged forward, claws aimed at the creature’s chest, raking across its magma-infused scales. Sparks flew as his claws scraped against its hardened shell, leaving deep gouges that oozed fiery magma. But the creature didn’t stagger; it twisted, countering with a backhanded swipe that caught Arthur off guard, slashing across his side with molten claws.
He let out a guttural roar, feeling the heat sear through his scales, pain flaring through his side. But the thrill of the fight drowned out any hesitation. He wanted this victory. He needed it.
The beast stepped back, its eyes narrowing with something akin to calculation. And then, with a slow, menacing rumble, the Third Child raised one massive claw and summoned an ability of its own.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
The Third Child has activated [Magma Summon: Blades of Volcanic Wrath].
From the ground around it, massive blades of molten rock erupted, towering pillars of flame and magma forming jagged, fiery weapons that circled the beast. Arthur tensed, watching as the beast gripped one of these magma-forged swords, swinging it with terrifying speed.
He ducked, narrowly avoiding the blade as it cleaved through the air, heat singeing his scales even as he dodged. Another magma blade swung toward him, and he had to leap back, his movements driven by survival instincts and sheer determination.
One swing grazed his leg, and the pain was immediate. Molten fragments lodged in his flesh, searing into his skin. He roared, but he didn’t slow.
Arthur bared his fangs and shot a [Destructo Beam] toward the creature, aiming for its neck. The beam surged forward, orbiting energy tightening before it struck, carving into the beast’s molten scales. The Third Child reeled back, its eyes blazing with fury, magma dripping from its neck where Arthur’s attack had struck.
But it wasn’t enough.
Arthur needed a new plan—something that would go beyond brute strength. He circled around, eyes sharp, looking for any signs of weakness. That’s when he saw it: a crack near the creature’s chest, just over where its heart should be. It was faint, barely visible, but it was there—a weak spot.
A glint of ruthless determination filled Arthur’s mind. He’d seen the path to victory, and he wasn’t about to back down.
He activated [Aura of Dread], flooding the creature’s senses with an overwhelming sense of terror. For a moment, the beast paused, its blazing eyes dimming with hesitation. That was all he needed.
With a snarl, Arthur launched himself forward, claws and fangs bared, every inch of him poised to strike. He dodged another swing of a magma blade, feeling the heat scorch his side, but he didn’t falter. He lunged, ramming his massive body against the beast’s side, claws digging deep into its crackled hide.
The Third Child writhed in agony, but Arthur held fast, sinking his fangs into the molten wound and channeling every ounce of strength he had into the attack. The beast twisted, flailing, its molten claws tearing at him, but Arthur refused to let go. He shot another [Destructo Beam] directly into the crack, driving it deep into the creature’s core.
The beam seared through, and he could feel the creature’s life force waver.
With a final, desperate roar, the Third Child attempted to bite down on him, jaws wide and fangs glistening with molten heat. But Arthur twisted at the last moment, ramming his tail against its lower jaw, locking its maw open. With brutal precision, he fired one last [Destructo Beam], straight down the creature’s gaping mouth, deep into its core.
The effect was immediate.
A rumbling groan echoed through the Badlands as the Third Child’s body began to implode from within. Its molten veins burst, magma pouring out of its wounds in fiery streams, and with one last tremor, the Third Child collapsed. Its body lay still, magma cooling rapidly, hardening into a blackened, lifeless shell.
Arthur staggered back, his own body battered and torn, his breaths heavy. But he had won. The Third Child had fallen.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
You have defeated the Third Child of Volcranax, a direct descendant of the Titan of Fire.
Arthur’s vision filled with options as the system displayed his rewards:
Choose your evolution:
Obsidian Skin: Replace your Hardened Carapace with an obsidian armor capable of alternating between searing heat and impenetrable coolness.
Magma Pulse: Gain the ability to release a wave of molten energy, incinerating foes within close range.
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Rank Advancement: Move to the Third Stage of your evolution.
Arthur’s gaze settled on Obsidian Skin. Rank advancement could wait—there was more for him to conquer at this stage. And magma abilities were tempting, but obsidian armor… that would turn him into an even deadlier force.
He selected it.
The pain was intense but brief, as his scales darkened to a sleek, glossy black, each one hardening into an obsidian-like surface. His new armor pulsed with heat, shifting effortlessly between scorching temperatures and a diamond-hard coolness. He tested his limbs, feeling the strength and flexibility surge within.