Waking up with Mana Perception was like seeing the world for the second time. Every morning, as sunlight slipped through the forest canopy, Ren watched golden threads of ambient mana drift through the air like glowing dust. Tree roots drank it in. Mushrooms pulsed with soft, rhythmic light. Even the insects left faint trails of magic behind them.
If they can use it, he thought, why can't I?
He decided to find out.
For the next several days, he did nothing but experiment. He found a quiet hollow under an old oak, where the mana flow seemed strongest, and lay on his lizard belly in the middle of that invisible current. He closed his eyes and reached out with his new sense, trying to pull mana into his body.
His first try was clumsy. He imagined his scales as open pores, sucking in the glowing threads like a sponge. A few strands drifted toward him, touched his skin… and vanished. Like smoke through a screen door.
Try again.
He focused harder. He pictured a whirlpool in his chest, a core of spinning energy. He pulled. Mana came—a trickle at first, then a steady stream. It entered through his scales, flowed through his muscles, and gathered in his belly.
For one glorious moment, he felt full. Powerful. A warmth spread through his core, and he thought, This is it. I'm making a magic core.
Then the warmth faded. The mana leaked out like water from a cracked bowl. Within seconds, his body was empty again. The glowing threads drifted away, not caring about his struggle.
He tried again. And again. And again.
Morning became noon. Noon became evening. He pulled mana until his head hurt and his scales tingled with exhaustion. But every time, the same result. The mana wouldn't stay.
Why?
He opened the panel, hoping for an answer.
Gene Upgrade Panel
[Name: Ren]
[Species: Forest Lizard (Adult).]
[Available Gene Points: 0.2]
[Abilities:]
Clawed Strike - Developed.
Grip Jaw - Developed.
Mana Perception (Basic) - Developed.
[Note: Current species has no natural mana storage capacity. Mana cannot be retained without a mana core or compatible racial trait.]
Racial limit.
The words hit him like a slap. Forest lizards weren't magical creatures. They were born, they ate, they hid, they died. They didn't breathe fire or cast spells. Mana flowed through them like water through a wire sieve—briefly, uselessly.
He thought of the iron mantis, with its unnatural size and strength. The Thornspike Boar, with its bone spikes. Even the green snake had moved with a speed that felt wrong for its size.
They have magic cores. Or something like that. I don't.
Frustration burned in his chest. But he wasn't a baby lizard anymore. He didn't give up.
If I can't store mana, maybe I can use it directly.
He extended his claws and activated Clawed Strike. The usual sharpness flowed into his nails—but this time, he also pushed a thread of mana into them as he struck a fallen branch.
The result was explosive.
His claws tore through the branch like wet paper. Wood splintered. Shards flew. The cut was twice as deep as normal, and the edges of the wound were singed, as if heat had come with the blow.
The panel flickered.
[Clawed Strike + Mana Infusion - Temporary amplification detected. Damage increased by approximately 150%. Mana cost: negligible but non-retainable.]
Yes.
He tried the same with Grip Jaw. He bit down on a thick root, channeling mana into his jaw muscles as he clamped. His teeth sank deeper than ever before, and the root cracked under the pressure. When he let go, he saw deep gouges in the wood.
[Grip Jaw + Mana Infusion - Temporary amplification detected. Holding strength increased by approximately 120%. Mana cost: negligible but non-retainable.]
He couldn't store mana. He couldn't form a core. But he could borrow mana from the air, channel it through his body in the instant of an attack, and let it fade afterward. Like a lightning strike—short, violent, and gone.
It's not real magic. But it's a weapon.
He spent the rest of that week practicing. He learned to pull mana faster, to aim it more precisely into his claws and jaws. It wasn't always perfect—sometimes he pushed too hard and the mana burned his own scales—but slowly, he got better.
Then he checked the panel and saw something new.
[Next Evolution Threshold: 100 Gene Points.]
[Upon reaching 100 GP, you may select a reptilian species to evolve into. The panel will unlock a Gene Library containing available variants based on consumed genetic material.]
[Current consumed species: Ordinary Dung Beetle, Blade-Legged Centipede, Green Racer Snake, Thornspike Boar (partial), various insects.]
[Suggested evolution paths:]
Venomous Skink (requires 100 GP, +venom glands, +agility)
Spike-Tailed Gecko (requires 100 GP, +tail weapon, +camouflage)
Draconic Newt (requires 100 GP, +fire resistance, +mana compatibility)
??? (Locked - requires more genetic data)
One hundred Gene Points. He had 0.2. It might as well have been a million.
But the locked path—the one that needed more genetic data—made his heart race. Draconic Newt already had mana compatibility listed. If he could unlock something even closer to a dragon…
I need to hunt. I need to eat. I need to grow.
The next three weeks became a blur of killing and eating.
He hunted every morning, every evening, sometimes through the night. His adult body grew larger than any forest lizard should—his scales darkened to a deep bronze, his claws lengthened, his jaw muscles bulged. By the end of the second week, he was nearly forty centimeters in body length, with a tail that stretched another fifty. He was a monster by lizard standards.
He devoured frogs, snakes, big insects, and even a small bird that made the mistake of nesting too low. Each meal added Gene Points—tenths, sometimes halves. The panel's total climbed slowly but steadily.
Week 1 total: 12.7 GP
Week 2 total: 31.4 GP
Week 3 total: 58.9 GP
And then, on the twenty second day, he found him.
The brown lizard. The house cat sized predator from his hatching nest. The one who had crunched his siblings like popcorn.
He was basking on a sunlit rock, his mottled brown scales gleaming, his lazy reptilian eye half closed. He had grown fat on the forest's smaller creatures. He didn't see Ren approaching.
Ren was no longer the tiny hatchling that fled from his shadow.
He circled downwind, his bronze scales blending with the fallen leaves. His heart pounded—not with fear, but with cold, focused rage. He channeled mana into his claws before he even struck.
The big lizard sensed something at the last second. His eye snapped open. His head turned.
Too slow.
Ren leaped onto his back and drove his mana infused Clawed Strike into the base of his skull. The blow cracked bone. The big lizard thrashed, his tail whipping, his jaws snapping. But Ren was bigger now—almost his size. He locked his Grip Jaw onto the big lizard's neck and poured mana into the bite.
The struggle lasted less than a minute.
When the big lizard went still, Ren sat on the corpse and breathed. The forest was quiet. Somewhere, a bird sang.
For my siblings.
He ate him. Every scale, every organ, every scrap of flesh. It took hours.
[Mottled Brown Predator Lizard consumed - Obtained 18.3 Gene Points.]
[Total Available Gene Points: 77.2]
Ren was dragging the last of the bones into his hideout when he heard the voices.
Human voices.
He froze. His Mana Perception flared—and he felt them. Three warm, bright signatures moving through the forest to the east. Their mana wasn't just floating around; it was controlled. Organized. Each signature had a small, dense core of energy.
Mages? Hunters?
He pressed himself into the shadows under a root and watched.
They came out of the trees—three humans in leather and cloth, carrying spears and bows. Their faces were sharp, focused. One of them, a woman with short hair, held a crystal that glowed faintly in her palm. She pointed it toward his hideout.
"There," she said. "Something big. The residual mana is fresh."
The tallest human—a man with a scar across his cheek—nocked an arrow. "Beast core?"
"Maybe," the woman said. "Or something else. The reading is strange. Not quite a beast, not quite empty."
Ren's blood turned to ice.
They're hunting me.
He backed deeper into the hollow, his claws scraping against dirt. The crystal's glow brightened.
"It's close," she whispered.
Damn it.