I Am A Monster Reborn [A Monster Evolution Litrpg]

‘This heat is fucking intense.’ Victor complained to no one but himself. His oozing and gelatinous body was not well suited for an out and about Sun.

He had found himself traveling a paven path along a golden meadow. So far he had seen no sign of other people. Just the Open field, tall grasses and scattered flowers, and some sparse trees. Nothing but birds humming and the branches of trees whispering with the wind. A heavy breeze made the grass sway and dance.

He had left the darkened hollow world for heavy sunlight, which he couldn't stay in for too long, forcing him every now and then to cool down under the shade of an old oak tree he would seek out. It was a minor nuisance, but he was sure it would go away when the sun wasn't scorching the world or if he got stronger.

The box would pop up, every time he traveled more than under five minutes under the sun. And for another 5 minutes would be stranded and stuck.

He needed some shade and very fast. Victor clammered to the nearest tree that had thick foliage. Thus he needed to wait for the effects to disappear. The air was starting to get cooler, he hoped he found some form of shelter by midnight.

He didn’t see monsters, he tried to be as cautious as possible. It was a dog-eat-dog world and he didn’t want to sleep inside something's belly.

He had the funny idea of carving his initials into the tree with its iron dagger. One step closer to making his mark on the world. As he carved the V and moved on to write the initial for his surname the dagger broke. Brittle steel. Oh oh.

That was going to be a problem later, fighting with tentacles was an annoyance as it physically hurt to hit things with an appendage made from his body.

He retrieved the map from his inventory, which had increased from <inventory size 1 to inventory size 2>. He was going to need a bag or knapsack until it increased significantly.

The map he had stolen from the tower was very vaguely detailed, and many of the inscriptions cryptic or outright unreadable. Just from the look of the general area on the map, records of non-existent or obscure landmarks existed such as caverns and hidden entrances. He didn’t have time to go treasure hunting, his main focus was to reach a village and find proper directions to the Damned men. If Malak the cursed spider, formerly wizard, had told him the truth, there would be a village east of the river to the north.

Which reminded him. He hasn't partaken in any form of swimming activity in years, maybe in a decade. Then there was the fact he was no longer human, would his gelatinous blobby body withstand the current? He would have to do his best to look for a proper crossing, lest the current sweeps him away.

He peered back at the path he came from.

He could still see ‘Seraphines tower’ from here, a long and towering mess of stone and brick. He must have only reached the first floor. As the structure was massive, windows upon windows as far as the eye could see, which meant rooms next to rooms. The closest thing to a skyscraper he had seen in the world, though you can argue he hasn’t seen much. At the very top stood a building upon a building, a giant telescope sticking out of its roof.

‘An observatory.’

People might not be stuck here quite in medieval times, he saw makeshift flare gun before. There likely existed a mishmash of technological applications. Has modern technology arrived here however? The things he would do for a dose of internet dopamine. Now that he thought of it, his smart phone was on him when he took the leap, he didn’t remember arriving here with it.

A question left for another day. He took the shade in, as one does a sunrise.

Something caught his eye, as he felt a streak of wind bypass. A black streak blitzed by him. An animal? Black fur and almost cat-like. It had to have been the druid girl.

He was flabbergasted. He didn’t believe he’d see her again. The figure disappeared behind the trees, in the direction of the river. .

There was a thought perhaps he should go communicate with her. What’s the worse that could happen? She left him alive before, which may or may not have been intentional. But she was the only human he knew. Who else could he request assistance other than strangers.

He heard flapping in the air!?, Soft but thunderous in whole. A earsplitting screech tore through the field. Making Victor’s body hum, like a barrel disturbed water.

He looked up.

And there it was. A giant eagle-like creature soaring through the air after the panther. Its feathers were golden with a bronze sheen, shimmering as it flew lower to the ground. . Its large beak was terrifying, probably as big as a human’s body. His fight-or-flight response kicked in. Victor hid behind the tree in fear of being cornered and snatched up like a two-bit snack.

Suddenly, as if mocking the rhythmic flaps of the ‘Griffon’, a clapping of hooves echoed on the other side of the meadow. Another thunderous wave, this time from galloping of horses. The riders moved along the road in his direction.

‘People, but were they civil?.

From afar they almost looked human. Though he could only see metal men. Victor removed himself from the tree crouching deeper into the bushes. These men were riding , Stopping them might have been an instant way to die. It was probably better to approach some lone villager in the dark than to attest to this challenge.

He hid further, crept deep into the thicket. Pieces of thorny vines stabbing holes in him. But he resisted his irritation. They also appear to be moving in the same path of Griffon, and panther girl.

As they passed, Victor glimpsed at their faces. They were human alright but something was ‘off’. All clad in heavy steel armor, and all carrying a weapon whether a lance, a sword or a spear. l. At the center of silvery chest plates was an embroidered metal skull. Interwoven motifs which seemed to imitate a knitted skull with intersecting lines, the eyes of the skull hollow and black..

Not a single rider spoke a word. For a brief second. One glanced at the spot Victor was in and turned back forward. As if he saw nothing.

Something absurd was occurring, and he was thankful he wasn’t going to be caught in the crossfire again.

He was unwilling to cross paths with unknown variables, so he changed his plans. He would go slightly north but travel west, cross the river and then wait out the chaos that ensued. If everything had settled down. He take his chances

And so he moved forward, cautiously making sure no predator stalked him from behind. The most interesting thing is he hasn’t seen a single monster since he got out of the Cave. Perhaps monsters knew not to meddle here in fear of civilization or perhaps they were waiting for him. Watching, and reading themself to strike.

---

Nearing the bank of the river, he stumbled across a crossroad. Wooden boards stuck deep in the ground, wood decaying and breaking down. The very first read: North across the river lays Marrbridge. The second read: To the south lies the wizarding school of Malita which was scribbled out without proper care which now reads the Spire of Seraphine. A motif was graffitied on it. Killgob was here. ANd he couldn’t help but smirk.

The sign was very similar to something he knew from history back home. It made him wonder if the people here also consume amounts of propaganda and ideological strife.

And finally, the final sign stated: To the west lies the tomb of Cenere the eternal (arch wizard).

He certainly will not go grave robbing on some dead wizard’s tomb any time soon. It was probably filled with treasure. Perhaps if the winds of fate take him there.

He moved west, in search of a way to cross the river. The river tide was too heavy even a larger animal or human child might not make it across safely. He hoped nothing unpleasant came upon, as this side of the meadow was dense with trees.

There was nothing except just the occasional large sticking out og the water, if he finds nothing he would have to backtrack. He couldn't exactly jump so that was out of the way. Maybe when his <limb manipulation> had leveled up significantly he could form some legs.

Moving along the riverbank he became increasingly frustrated, hunger started to irritate him. The life of an ooze was a miserable hell when the entire body of a monster or a man couldn’t fill him for a few days. He suspects why he and his ‘siblings’ were considered disposable tools. An unfilling hunger and an acidic body made for the perfect way to dispose of unwanted bodies.

He had seen a few fruit trees, but they were laid out across the river, out of reach.

It had happened again, hunger had occupied his mind he would have to find something edible soon. He oozed along the river, moving as fast as his body allowed him.. All he could see was patches of dirty longrass, scattered rocks and clumps of muddy dirt. Nothing to pluck and nibble on, and surprisingly no fishes he could snatch out of the deep water.

His frenzy grew. He felt control slipping, an animalistic urge overtaking him. It was a sealed deal, he was a monster and he needed to feed.

Not far away, a golden orchard tree stood in the ground deeply rooted. It was an apple tree and carried golden and vibrant fruit. Glistening just waiting to be eaten.

He sprinted towards it..

He knew this food was probably dangerous. Bright colours are clearly a warning. Perhaps it killed fast, maybe it killed slowly. He however was confident he could stomach any position. He’d take the risk.It couldn’t wait. It had been half a day since he had eaten, and his stomach felt as though it wanted to rip itself apart.

He sped up, like he had taken a mouthful of hallucinogenic shrooms.

He formed a magical hand with his limb manipulation. Shooting it towards the golden fruit, and before consuming, stop to admire it. For it was beautiful. It was strangely polished like how you would keep an ornament clean, the surface of the skin was unnervingly smooth. A freshened scent came from the fruit.

He tore it to pieces, absorbing it.

Its juices made him burst on the inside and jiggle with excitement. Sweet. Sweeter than any of the honey and nectar he had tasted. It filled him, he was really full. There was no hunger any more.

He was fine, everything was fine.

It was surprisingly dense for what it was, a magical apple. Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t all so bad. Perhaps some just god really did look after him.

‘Neat!’ but he wasn't eager to upgrade his stats yet. Those were decisions for the future. He couldn’t just toss it around willy nilly. Generalist?, specialist? who cared right now.

Greed now overtook him as he stared at the tree. There were more than three dozen fruits hanging. If he ate all of these apples he could gain so much exp. Leveling up several times over. It was amazing, but his stomach was full right now, he couldn’t stomach anymore.

It dawned on him that the appearance of this tree was out of place. It appeared when he needed it. He hoped no one was guarding the tree or would come looking for missing fruit he had not. The orchard tree was strange; it stood alone in a field of maple and oak trees. As if waiting for someone.

He couldn’t risk getting caught; he needed to move. And quickly. Victor plucked another apple from the hanging branches and plucked it in his inventory space. Which now contained a Map and an apple.

He started stressing. It was time to slip away.

Then he heard the wind whisper his name.

“Victor.” the wind whispered.

Chills. Something called out his name.

“Victor…Leave….” It was that of a specter, he heard them in the cave. It wanted him out.

He would not. Something was wrong with this tree, something was odd about the whole immediate area. The air felt foul. He wanted to find out why.

The wind blew in the direction behind the trees and the clouds obscured this area, shadowing an already dark part of the forest.

He moved towards the thicket. And there, once, out of normal sight. Lay the dead, a mass grave. Curved Swords, long blades, halberds, bows, and arrows scattered among the crime scene. A strange sight indeed. Each corpse had different armor, a view into many different eras of civilizations.. Many of them naked and their armor beside them. One resembled that of fully plated samurai, what appeared to be a janissary. He spotted a viking, braided beard, an ancient warrior clinging to his shield. Then he spotted the unmissable roman soldiers, the roman eagle marked on their shields. There were many more, but he couldn’t recognise them.

“Run, Victor,” The same voice repeated.

He caught a glimpse of them, a glimmer of light, masquerading these fallen men. They stared at him hollow, but sad.

“You are not safe, victor!” a new voice said, furious.

They weren’t lying; he needed to leave. They weren’t haunting him, they were stuck here. It was time to go.

But something in the center of the mass grave stood and drew his eyes. It stood out in the chaos of the field. A sunray had broken through the clouded sky and stayed on the shining shortsword. He recognised it. Arminius had fought with one, a Roman gladius.

He needed it. He lost his dagger, the heavens itself highlighted it. He lost his dagger, he needed to take it.

He approached it, cast observe on the object.

Cryptic.

He moved towards it. And a happy spirit appeared. Resembling a dead centurion, one who’s corpse lay not too far.

“It was mine once, a fine blade. Take it,” The specter smiled at him.”Take it, then leave.”

And so he did. He plucked it from the ground. A childhood memory played in his head. He had once pretended. To be the king of camelot plucking his sword from the stone. The legendary blade, Excalibur claimed.

This wasn’t that but he felt giddy, joyous. As it was crafted for him. he put his slimy hand on it pulling it from the cracked ground.

“Now leave, she is coming!” ANother spirited shouted from afar, frantic and desperate.

From where the tree stood. Out of thin air, a naked woman materialized.

“You’ turn your back for one moment,” she ranted. “you go off on an errand for a great tree, and when you come back there is a filthy beast in your home, disturbing your guests.”

The spirits were gone, none stood in her presence.

A young woman naked in every sense of the word. She was desirable. A curvaceous body. Smallish but supple. She held not a single piece of clothing. she had no clothing but was covered in patterns with vines and plant roots. Soft visible aura radiating from her, and was rising with her fuming temper.

A spirit of nature.

He casted observe.

 

“Begone beast!” She commanded with fury. She peered at her tree and noticed that her fruit was missing a few pieces.

“My tree! A filthy creature like you plucked from my tree! You will pay for this.”

She was pissed. Perhaps she was justified in her anger, he really was a thief. But the mass grave told a different story. These men were victims. Her victims.

He gripped gladius, he would strike her down if she as much as touch him. She was beyond beautiful but he would throw his life away so easily.

She judged him for a moment. Her piercing gaze touched him, touched his ‘soul’. She had seen him for what he is.

 

'Concerning'

Her eyes changed for a moment turning as red as her aura and then it dissipated. As if captured by her sight

“What are you? She demanded. Silently judging him. “You’re no monster, you are a man, trapped in one.”

Her radiant aura completely dissipated. Then she locked eyes with his small body. A mix of curiosity and anger.

“Victor,” she said with a soft tone. The spirits whisper your name, often they are pests but they do bring me comfort sometimes. Would like to stay and talk with them.”

Reddish flags start to wave in victor’s mind, he refuses to be stuck.”

“”How did you come to be like this Victor, perhaps my talents can even fix you.”

“Do you want riches victor, do you want me.” She teased seductively her finger tips tracing along the sensual parts of her body, even the lower part.

“She looked at him again, I know what you want. We can help each other..”

Maybe she could, but Victor couldn’t afford to trust her. It made sense why this grave existed . She lured these men here. They all likely strayed off the path hoping for respite and recovery. She had used them and discarded them.

“You wonder about these men,” her manner of speaking shifting stoically. “It's the duty imposed upon me, so I punished them. As they deserve. Men, nature’s bane”

She approached him slowly. A step in his direction every so few seconds.

“But you deserve more, you’re special.”

“My body is different, I will not succumb to the woes of the succubus” he shouted aloud. Telepathy at work.

Her eyes narrowed, her arms reaching for him

“Is it murder to execute criminals, dear victor? Come closer and I'll give you what you desire.

Victor was fool by his own admission yes, but never again will he fall for an elementary trap. Not after the snakeman.

He slimed away in the opposite direction, his senses on high alert.

“Come back here!” Her voice thundered behind like an angry god. “You took what isn’t yours, pay me back,!"

The air clapped with a loud ping, like an artillery shell being fired.

A Giant boulder bursted into the air, just narrowly missing him. Colliding with a tree, making it fall over. Dust rock and wooden fragments exploding everywhere. A poor man's shrapnel bomb.

A large piece of wood, spun in the air, turned towards him and chased him like a missile, piercing him.

“You ate from my tree!” she shouted. Sending a flurry of sharp pebbles at him.”

The allegory creeped Victor out, did the fruit contain a physical piece of her?

He ran. He was impaled by something and it slowed him down. Vines started tussling and tree branches started coming alive, a thick vine lashed out. It reminded him of Arminius, whipping the air. He imagined he was back in that militia, and was marching. The vine was the whip punishing him, he did like being punished.

He sped up.

He sped up, slithering away from the obscured grave.

He was free of her, one obstacle remained in his way, the river, his only escape route. There was only one way out.

The river called out to him, alluring but sinister. Like it wanted a piece of him, a piece. Like it was alive and it wanted to consume him.

He turned around, and to his irritation, the nymph was approaching calmly.

“I can help you little Victor,” She spoke as if he was a child. Then the charade faded very quickly. “Even if you leave me now,we'll be together soon, and you will pay, you'll take proper responsibility as a man should.”

Her aggression was gone. Was it because he had left the part that was her home?

He couldn't care any less. He had Desperation to live on, nothing could compel him anymore than that. He wanted to live longer and that was all that mattered.

Victor jumped into the river. It was cold and wild. It dragged him across its body,he looked back, and for a moment, they glanced at each other. A cold smile on the devil's face.

As the river tossed him around. He felt the water mixing with his insides. Excruciating pain, yet he didn’t lose any health. He had tried struggling with this force of nature but it proved futile.

He held tightly to the gladius. It was slipping, and soon he would lose it as quickly as he saw it.

He didn’t know if he would wake up again. And thought of the few acquaintances he had met. Markus and Malak. They were strange folk but he hoped he could see them again.

The sword finally slipped from his grasp. Audible words escaping from it.

“I came. I saw. I conquered.”

Then everything was black.

An: I really try. Really try to write short chapters, but the word creep happens naturally and then the editing (Takes more time writing) is absolutely horrendous. Sometimes I write like gigantopithecus, other times like Stephen king on white powder. Thank you for bearing the weight of my words.