The Dragon Heir (A Monster Evolution LitRPG)

'Parda' was sacred, a term the Church of Thalador used to denote the fabric of reality. It wasn't merely a single fabric but rather a weave, comprising different dimensions. According to the Bible of Thalador, seven dimensions existed within Parda. I was familiar with the Astral Plane and the Abyss, though I couldn't recall the others.

Nevertheless, they all existed in a certain harmony, governed by specific rules. The church upheld the sanctity of these rules.

And here I was, on the verge of committing a most egregious breach.

It's not that I didn't hold faith in Thalador, or any other deities for that matter. Quite the contrary, really. My belief only served to heighten the terror of my impending transgression. Although I was fairly certain I wouldn't be smote on the spot, a lingering dread still clung to me.

I had ceased attending church, not out of disagreement, oh no, but rather the opposite. The Church had once been my sanctuary, a place where I felt grounded and safe as a child. But as I grew older, I began to see the true colours of those around me. I recall the day a woman snatched her daughter away from me as we were merely playing, all the while whispering and glaring. The guard who perpetually barred my entry, the whispers, the stares—all crystal-clear indicators of their disdain. For the first time, I saw them for what they truly were.

There was no other reason—they despised me simply for existing. For worshipping a god whose entire doctrine centred around protection. Those hypocrites! I often found myself wishing Thalador would smite their hateful arses one fine day.

I finally placed the mirror down over the runic circle I had so meticulously etched. Its surface reflected my visage in a blend of moonlight and candlelight. I looked around, noting that everything was nearly ready.

I lit the three candles, each one precisely positioned equidistant from the mirror at the center. The mirror itself sat within the summoning circle. This circle, traditionally drawn with ordinary chalk, had been altered under Lotte's guidance. She'd instructed me to mix in a vial of nightshade essence, transforming its usual white hue to a striking red.

Each candle was set atop a different rune: one for purity, another for protection, and the third for connection. By tweaking these runes just a bit, the candles would also serve as coordinates. What I was about to perform was a targeted summoning—at least, that's what Lotte had assured me. The Spirit Plane harboured some truly nasty entities, and it was alarmingly easy to make a blunder when dabbling in summoning. By determining exactly where to summon from and what kind of spirit I desired, the process should be safer—provided one knew the perfect runes, the precise ritual, and had all the necessary materials.

I glanced at the box. My resolve wavered momentarily, but I slapped myself to shake off any second thoughts. This was no time for doubt.

One by one, I set the candles aflame. Finally, connecting a few lines of the ritual caused the three mana batteries I had placed beside each candle to hum in response. The crimson runic lines flared brightly for a moment before settling into a dim glow.

My heart was doing a jittery waltz, but it seemed like the first step of the ritual was done. Each candle was now burning in different colours. Red. Golden. Green.

I needed to wait until their colours turned black, blue, and red instead. Those were the coordinates Lotte had asked me to seek. Where they connected in the spirit plane and what kind of entity I was inviting, I seriously had no clue. All I had going was blind faith in Lotte and dread for tomorrow, which, if I were honest, was more than enough for a push.

I scampered around while the candle fire danced and slowly changed hues. Collecting some dry sticks, enough for burning, I placed them into the cauldron I brought with me. Knowing the candle coordination step would take some time, I saved a step to save time.

I lit the sticks inside the cauldron, adding the sprig of netherbloom petals and three drops of shadow asp venom inside. I covered my face. Being an alchemy dabbler, I knew how foolish it was to add venom to a burning flame, but Lotte had reassured me it should not release any noxious smoke. Probably due to some sort of specific interactions between the netherbloom and venom, which neutralized the toxins in the combustion process.

I trotted 'round the cauldron, letting the smoke swirl and weave its way through the ritual area, before setting it down just behind the mirror. Now, it was time to wait. Time itself seemed to crawl for me. Not only was there the chance that this whole affair could go spectacularly pear-shaped at any moment, but also the knowledge that I had nary a scrap of control over any of it. I couldn't feel mana, much less manipulate it, so I was essentially a puppet. Lotte had designed the setup so the runes did all the heavy lifting—from energy gathering to ritual focus and even the summoning. My sole duty was to tweak or nudge the runes at specific intervals.

I was positively jittery, not being in control. Moments like these made me long for a chat with Lotte outside of my dreams, where I could endlessly bend her ear with my complaints. But really, what a fanciful notion—dreams manifesting in reality. Silly me.

Time ticked by, the flickering candles playing havoc with my nerves. There was no rhyme or reason to their shifts. Every two minutes, they changed colours in unison. From red to orange, then yellow, and so on, until finally black. Black? That was unexpected.

I glanced around. One candle burned black, another blue, and the last one red. Alarmed, I shuffled forward, scraping off a rune to lock in coordinates. Grabbing the crimson chalk powder, I swiftly etched another rune.

After double-checking that all the runes were in their proper places, I positioned myself in the centre of the invocation circle. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth and intoned...

"Omni serpeni, voco te! Custos in tenebris, da mihi fortitudinem tuam.

Praesidium et potentia, aeterna gratia, consilio meo!

Per lumen et umbram, nos coalescimus.

Protemis me, forti servo."

I hadn't the foggiest what language it was, but dear Lotte had me perfecting the pronunciation like a diligent parrot. I must say, I think I hit the right notes, though words like 'fortitudinem' tripped me up a tad. Still, I eventually got there.

For a fleeting moment, an eerie stillness hung in the air, but my gaze stayed locked on the mirror at the centre. What stared back was my own visage. Skin kissed by moonlight, etched with lines of worry.

Then, everything went topsy-turvy as my reflection twisted its head and locked eyes with me, wearing a chilling grin. My heart did a somersault. Success!

Before I could utter the next bit, my reflection vanished, leaving behind a swirling abyss in the mirror.

A rustle in the nearby bushes made my heart leap. Had that thing escaped? By all accounts of the ritual, it shouldn't have been able to. Dread trickled down my spine as I watched the shuffling foliage. A head emerged, gaunt and serpentine, skeletal with a pair of bulging eyes fixed unblinkingly on me.

My hand moved of its own accord, reaching for the crossbow lying beside me. Suddenly, I frowned, peering down at it. When on earth did I place it here? It ought to be by the tree... there...

Indeed, another crossbow lay there. I glanced back at the one I was about to grasp, and my expression twisted into horror. The crossbow had vanished, replaced by a containment rune.

That blasted thing was trying to break free.

Relief washed over me at first, quickly giving way to anger. The wretched entity was toying with my senses, the cheek of it!

"I know exactly what you're up to, you pile of dung!" I spat out, seething.

Oh, woe is me! I might wallow in the gloom of being unable to feel the tingle of magic, but here, one thing was crystal clear: the ritual was in absolute command. If that cheeky entity was nudging me to erase the containment rune, it only meant everything was ticking along like clockwork.

As Lotte would say, entities were like bloodhounds, able to sniff out our mortal emotions. Whatever it sensed from me, it gave it the cheek to try and bamboozle me. But I had a plan: reverse the trickery and show it who's boss.

With a dramatic flourish, I straightened up, radiating imperious confidence. "You really think you can outfox me, you pitiful, wretched excuse for a spirit?" I sneered, my voice laden with scornful mockery. "The very ease with which I summoned you should have been your first hint."

The wind hushed to a gentle whisper as two slitted eyes emerged in the mirror, locking onto me. The only way to outdo such spirits was to flaunt one's superiority. And there I was, showcasing power I didn't actually possess.

"Did you truly believe a mere illusion would bamboozle me? How adorably quaint. You forget, you're but a puppet in my grand theatre." I laughed, even as a bead of sweat trickled down my spine.

The glare from the mirror grew sharper. "I beckoned you with a flick of my wrist, and I can dismiss you with even less effort." True enough, it was simply a matter of cutting off the connection rune, and the breach in 'Parda' would be sealed tight.

I sashayed towards the mirror, and for the first time, the fierce glare reacted. It fully revealed itself now. Its visage was like a pristine white sheet draped over the skull of a serpent. Hollow sockets housed slitted eyes, black and gold, counterfeit, mere imitations.

Its mouth creaked open, the sides of the skull groaning as though trying to summon a voice it didn't have. Against all odds, it succeeded, the sound that emerged was grating, like a cat scratching a chalkboard while yodelling.

It cackled its jaw three times in mirror, but what I heard on this side was quite different.

"Quid offeres, invocator?"

No clue what it meant, but did this mean my attempt to intimidate it had worked? Perhaps not. Anyway, I remembered what Lotte had instructed me to say next.

"Omni serpeni, ausculta me!

Unum mensem protectionis mihi praebe, et in commutatione, meum sole tibi offero.

Esto mihi fortis defensor!"

For reasons beyond me, Lotte had made me repeat 'sole' at least five times before nodding in approval.

The skeletal serpent simply stared at me for a full minute, not uttering a word. Seriously, an entire minute of silent staring. Did I mispronounce something? Whatever, I was through with waiting for a response. Lotte had prepared a backup plan. If the entity didn't agree to protect me by this point, I just needed to sweeten the deal.

I clamped my hand over my mouth, sinking my unusually sharp canines into my thumb. Once I pierced the skin, I held my hand over a rune situated just before the connection rune.

"Omni serpeni, nunc adveni et gustum cape eius quod offero.

Veni, et tibi praebeo saporem mei sole."

A smattering of blood droplets plummeted, and the rune sprung to life, twirling in a vibrant crimson hue before fading away. The response was immediate—the skeletal serpent in the mirror let out a bone-chilling shriek, its lower jaw grinding against the upper, producing a dreadful symphony. The fabric draping its bony form shredded as if ripples of energy were coursing through it.

"EGO ACCIPIO!"

It intoned, and right then, a searing pain erupted on my wrist. I winced, clutching it as strange symbols began to materialise around my wrist, weaving themselves into a faintly shimmering pattern.

Lotte really ought to have given me a heads-up about this bit. My confident façade almost slipped, but I held steady as the fiery tattoo etched itself onto my wrist. It resembled a serpent's eyes, but instead of lines, it was composed of eerie symbols.

The surface of the mirror rippled as the skeletal serpent slithered into reality. It still felt unreal, as if its entire form was a hurried brushstroke. The temperature around me plummeted to a biting cold in an instant. The skeleton floated through the air, graceful, lithe, and eerie. It paused mere inches from my wrist, gazing at the tattoo, then looked at me with its fake eyes, before touching the symbol on my wrist and vanishing with a pop.