I ate two of the rabbit corpses, forcing down the gamey meat until my HP crept back up to a more comfortable level. The exhaustion was still there though, settling into my bones like lead.
"Hey, system. What does resting do?"
The response came immediately.
"Resting initiates natural health regeneration and mana regeneration. Recovery rate is slower than consumption of food but does not require resources."
So I could heal over time just by sitting still. Good to know. Though eating was faster, and right now speed mattered more than comfort.
I finished the last of the rabbit meat and checked my status.
HP: 18/25
Better. Not great, but I'd survived worse today.
A thought occurred to me as I stared at my status screen. I'd gotten two titles now—Coward and Rabbit Killer. They were just sitting there on my screen, labels that the system had assigned me. But were they actually doing anything? Or were they just for show?
It seemed like everything else in this system had a purpose. Stats affected my combat ability. Skills gave me new abilities. So logically, titles should do something too, right?
"What do titles do? What do my titles do specifically?"
"Title: Coward - Increases movement speed by 20% when fleeing from opponents three or more ranks higher. Title: Rabbit Killer - Increases all stats by 15% when fighting rabbit-type monsters."
I blinked. So the Coward title had actually helped me escape that demon bear. And Rabbit Killer had given me an edge in those fights, even if it hadn't felt like it at the time.
"Huh." I looked down at my claws, flexing them experimentally. "Well. Time to grind, I guess."
I found the slimes twenty minutes later, in a clearing where the trees thinned out and sunlight pooled on the forest floor. They were exactly what you'd expect—translucent blobs of goo, each about the size of a basketball, bouncing around aimlessly.
"Divine Messenger."
Species: Forest Slime
Level: 2
HP: 8/8
Mana: 2/2
Strength: 2
Defense: 1
Agility: 3
Magic: 1
Low stats. Low HP. This would be easy.
I swiped at the nearest slime with my claw.
My talons passed through it like it was made of water. The slime's body rippled, reforming around where I'd struck, completely undamaged.
"Huh?"
The slime launched itself at my face.
I jerked back, barely dodging. "What the hell? Why didn't it die?"
"Forest Slimes possess a core structure. The core must be destroyed to eliminate the creature."
"You couldn't have mentioned that before I attacked?"
The system didn't respond. Of course it didn't.
I looked closer at the slime. There—in the center of its gelatinous body, a small sphere about the size of a marble. Darker than the rest, more solid-looking.
The slime jumped again. This time I was ready. I caught it mid-air with my jaws, bit down carefully until I felt something crack between my teeth, and the slime dissolved into nothing.
+15 XP
"Okay. Core. Got it."
I turned around to find my next target and froze.
Thirty slimes. Maybe more. They'd emerged from the undergrowth while I was focused on the first one, and now they surrounded me in a loose circle. Their bodies pulsed in what might have been anticipation.
"Oh, come on."
I got to work.
The slimes weren't strong, but they were persistent. And there were a lot of them. I lost track of time as I fought, my claws and teeth finding cores, my Dragon's Breath—which I discovered could incinerate multiple slimes at once if I aimed it right—becoming more and more efficient.
+15 XP
+15 XP
Level Up! Level 4 → Level 5
+15 XP
+15 XP
Skill Level Up! Dragon's Breath Level 1 → Level 2
+15 XP
Level Up! Level 5 → Level 6
The notifications kept coming. The slimes kept coming. I kept killing them.
The XP gains from each individual slime weren't much—I could feel the curve flattening as I got stronger—but there were so many of them that volume made up for efficiency. Fifteen experience at a time added up fast when you were burning through dozens of targets.
My Dragon's Breath grew hotter, the flames lasting longer. I could feel the skill evolving in real-time, becoming more intuitive, more powerful. By the time the last slime dissolved, the skill had reached level 3 and I could sustain the flame for a full three seconds.
+15 XP
Level Up! Level 9 → Level 10
I stood among the scorched grass and dissipating slime residue, panting. Then new text appeared.
Maximum level for current evolution reached.
Evolution now available.
Evolution. My mind latched onto the word immediately. That sounded good. Really good. If I could evolve, get stronger, maybe I'd finally have a chance against things like that demon bear.
My first instinct was to do it right now. Just select whatever option looked best and—
I stopped myself. What if the evolution left me vulnerable? What if I passed out, or couldn't move, or there was some kind of transformation that left me defenseless? I'd been in this world for less than a day and I'd already almost died three times. Evolving in the open, where anything could find me, seemed like a great way to make it four.
"I need to find somewhere safe first."
Looking around at the devastation I'd caused, I realized this clearing was definitely not safe. Any predator in the area would be drawn to this.
I found a small cave—more of an alcove, really—carved into a rocky outcropping about ten minutes away. The entrance was tight, barely big enough for me to squeeze through, but the space inside was adequate. The walls were close, the ceiling low, but it was defensible.
I ventured back out to gather firewood, dragging fallen branches inside until I had a decent pile. Then I used Dragon's Breath to ignite them. The flames caught quickly, filling the small space with warmth and flickering light.
"Okay." I settled down by the fire, feeling more secure than I had all day. "Let's see this evolution."
Three options appeared on my status screen.
Evolution Paths Available:
Young Fire Dragon
2. Young Lava Dragon
3. Kid Inferno Dragon
I stared at the options. Three different paths, all sounding powerful in their own way. Fire, Lava, Inferno—those all made sense for a dragon. But what was with the prefixes? Two of them said "Young" and one said "Kid." That had to mean something, right? The system wouldn't use different words for no reason.
Was it about age? About how long the evolution would take? Or was there some fundamental difference between Young and Kid that I needed to understand before making a choice?
This felt important. Like the kind of decision I couldn't take back.
"Explain the difference between 'Young' and 'Kid' designations."
"'Young' classification indicates accelerated growth in current stage with reduced potential in subsequent evolutions. 'Kid' classification indicates slower initial growth with significantly enhanced potential in later evolutionary stages."
So Young was short-term power, Kid was long-term investment. That made sense. But what about the actual types? Fire, Lava, Inferno—they all sounded similar, but they had to have different focuses. Different strengths and weaknesses.
Inferno sounded the most aggressive. The most destructive. And if I was going to survive in this world, I needed power.
"And Inferno specifically?"
"Inferno specialization focuses on maximum destructive fire output and heat resistance. Balanced growth across all combat statistics with emphasis on Magic and Strength."
I looked at the three options again. The Young evolutions would make me stronger now, but cap my potential later. The Kid evolution would be slower, but eventually I'd be far more powerful.
I'd already decided to survive. To get strong enough that I'd never have to run from something like that demon bear again. If that meant taking the longer path, so be it.
"Kid Inferno Dragon. Final answer."
"Evolution initiating."
The pain hit immediately.
It felt like my bones were melting and reforming, my scales peeling away and growing back thicker. My muscles tore and rebuilt themselves, stronger. Heat surged through my body, concentrating in my chest until I thought I'd burn from the inside out. I wanted to scream but my jaw was locked shut, my whole body rigid as the transformation took hold.
Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped.
I collapsed, gasping. Everything felt different—stronger, denser, like my body had been compressed and refined. I flexed my claws experimentally. They looked sharper now, more defined. My scales had darkened slightly, the crimson now shot through with veins of orange that pulsed with internal heat.
I stood up and immediately noticed the difference. I'd grown—not dramatically, but enough. Maybe half again my previous size. When I stretched to my full height, I was easily five feet tall now. The cave that had felt adequately spacious before now felt snug.
My status screen updated.
Name: No Name
Species: Kid Inferno Dragon
Rank: D+
Status: Normal
Level: 10
HP: 100/100
Mana: 80/80
Strength: 34
Defense: 38
Agility: 30
Magic: 28
Titles: Coward, Rabbit Killer
My stats had more than doubled. Everything had doubled. I was level 10 at D+ rank with one hundred HP.
"Holy shit," I whispered. My voice sounded slightly different—deeper, with more resonance.
I moved toward the cave entrance to test my mobility and realized the problem immediately. The opening that I'd squeezed through before was now too tight. Not impossibly so, but enough that forcing my way through would scrape scales and probably hurt.
Well, I had claws now. Better claws. And thirty-four strength.
I started scraping at the stone around the entrance, my talons digging into the rock more easily than they should have. The stone flaked away in chunks, widening the opening bit by bit. It took maybe ten minutes of work, but eventually I'd carved out enough space that I could slip through comfortably.
I stepped back and examined my handiwork. The entrance was noticeably larger now, less defensible maybe, but at least I wouldn't be trapped.
This was what I needed. This was how I'd survive.
The fire crackled beside me, casting dancing shadows on the cave walls. Tomorrow I'd test out these new stats properly. Find out what a D+ rank Kid Inferno Dragon could really do.
But for now, I let myself rest. For the first time since waking up in that egg, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I had a chance in this world.
Day one was finally over.