Chapter 10: The Hunter and the Hunted

  The tunnels stretch before us, an endless maze of darkness and damp stone.

  My vision adjusts perfectly to this environment, revealing details I hadn't noticed before. Probably the low-light trait combined with the strange effects of the soup. I can see small cracks in the stone, trails of tiny creatures along the ground, and the subtle shifts in the air currents that suggest larger spaces ahead.

  Magba, despite her blindness, moves with the confidence of someone who has memorized every crevice of this labyrinth.

  "Keep up, little one," she hisses over her shoulder, her claws clicking rhythmically against the stone floor.

  "What exactly are we hunting?" I ask, ducking under a low-hanging stalactite.

  "Cave crawlers," Magba replies, and I really don’t like the plural there. "Same as the one you killed before. Good practice for fresh evolution."

  "Practice?" I mutter. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

  My stomach tightens. Even after everything I've endured, the prospect of facing more deadly creatures doesn't fill me with confidence. But I've learned the hard way that in this world, hesitation equals death.

  "And how do we find them?" I ask, scanning the darkness ahead.

  Magba's wrinkled face splits into that unnerving grin. "Oh, no problem there. They find you first."

  With that cryptic warning, she turns and continues deeper into the tunnel. The air grows cooler, damper, and the soft drip-drip-drip of water provides an eerie backdrop to our descent.

  Eventually, we reach a large cavern. The ceiling stretches high above us, disappearing into darkness. The walls glisten with moisture, and that same small luminescent fungi cast an ethereal blue glow across the stone floor.

  "This place," Magba says, gesturing to the expansive chamber. "Perfect hunting ground."

  I glance around warily. "So... what now? Do I just wait for…"

  Before I can say anything further, Magba retreats to a high ledge near the cavern entrance, settling herself with a satisfied grunt. From her perch, she has a perfect view of the entire chamber.

  Muttering curses under my breath, I move cautiously into the center of the cavern. The soup's effects still linger, sharpening my senses to an almost painful degree. Every droplet of water, every subtle shift in the air currents registers with crystal clarity.

  That's when I hear it. A faint clicking sound, like brittle claws against stone. The noise echoes from multiple directions, making it impossible to pinpoint the source.

  My muscles tense instinctively as the sounds make me feel like I’m being surrounded. Movement flickers at the periphery of my vision.

  I spin around, heart pounding, but see nothing except the shifting patterns of fungal light on stone.

  Then, without warning, the ground beneath my feet trembles. A jagged crack appears in the stone, spreading outward like a web. I leap backward just as something erupts from beneath the surface.

  A cave crawler.

  At least a dozen legs, each tipped with a sharp claw, propel it forward with unnerving speed. At its head there is no visible sign of any form of eyes, but his mandibles click and snap hungrily.

  Unfortunately, I don't have time to contemplate the monster's biology because it's already charging toward me, mandibles spread wide.

  The creature charges, much as it did before. But this time, I see its movements differently. They're not just terrifying, they're predictable. The same straight-line charge, the same stabbing motion with its forelegs. The fact that it is now way smaller in comparison also helps a lot.

  Timing my move carefully, I dodge to the right just as its legs extend for the strike. And again, it struggles to turn, its bulk working against it as it laboriously changes direction to face me again.

  "Use your new strength!" Magba calls from her perch. "Don't fight like a Lizardling!"

  Easy for her to say. I'm still learning the limits of this evolved body. But she's right, I need to adapt quickly and finish this creature as fast as possible to avoid any surprises.

  As the crawler charges again, I stand my ground. Instead of dodging, I time my movement to the last possible second, then pivot and strike with all my might, driving my fist directly into the side of its head.

  The impact sends shockwaves up my arm, but I feel the satisfying crunch of the creature's exoskeleton giving way under my newly enhanced strength. The crawler screeches, a high-pitched sound that echoes through the tunnels, and staggers sideways.

  Emboldened, I press the attack, following up with a flurry of blows. Each strike comes easier than the last as my body remembers its capabilities, muscle memory forming in real-time.

  The crawler retreats, disoriented by my unexpectedly powerful assault. For a moment, I think I've won this first encounter.

  That's when the second creature emerges from the cave ahead.

  This one is a little bit larger, its shell bearing several deep scars that suggest previous battles. It approaches more cautiously than its companion, circling and testing my defenses with quick feints.

  I divide my attention between the two monsters, keeping my back to the center of the cavern. The injured crawler has recovered somewhat, though it seems hesitant to pursue the attack.

  They each click their mandibles some more, in what seems to be some sort of communication and a moment after, the scarred crawler strikes. It darts forward with surprising speed but I manage to jump away. The smaller crawler sees its opportunity and lunges at my exposed back.

  I twist, but not fast enough. Its sharp legs rake across my shoulders, drawing blood. Pain flares, hot and immediate, but already I can feel my regeneration beginning to work, the wounds starting to close even as I continue fighting.

  This dance of attack and counterattack continues, and the crawlers are relentless, coordinating their assaults with unnerving intelligence. I manage to land some solid blows and there are already some deep cracks at their shells, but for every injury I inflict, I receive some more in return.

  Still, I'm holding my own. My evolution has made me faster, stronger, and more resilient than before. The regrowing arm, initially weaker, seems to strengthen with each strike, as if the combat itself is accelerating its development.

  Just as I begin to think I might actually survive this "training session," a subtle movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. What I had assumed was merely a large boulder at the edge of the cavern suddenly shifts, unfolding into a third cave crawler, one nearly twice the size of the others.

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  "Shsh!" I curse, backing away in panic as the giant joins the fray. "Magba! You didn't mention there would be three!"

  Her cackle echoes through the chamber. "Surprise teaches better than preparation!"

  The giant crawler's carapace is thick and heavily armored, covered in what look like crystalline growths.

  Fear surges through me, but something else rises to meet it, a primal, instinctual understanding. This is not just a test of my strength or speed. It's a test of adaptation.

  As the three creatures converge on me, I make a split-second decision. Instead of retreating, I charge directly at the largest crawler. The unexpected move seems to confuse it, slowing its reaction time just enough for me to slip past its massive mandibles and leap onto its back.

  The creature bucks wildly, trying to dislodge me, but I dig my claws deep into the gaps between its armored plates. With my free hand, I strike repeatedly at a soft spot just behind its head, where the exoskeleton appears thinner.

  The other two crawlers, sensing an opportunity, converge. The scarred one pierces my side, while the smaller one scuttles around and slashes at my legs, but with all the chaotic struggle those end up being only flesh wounds and my claw holds strong as I keep on bashing the big one.

  My hands suffer with each blow, but after several brutal strikes, something gives way beneath my fist. The crawler emits a horrific screech and collapses, its legs thrashing in its death throes.

  The smaller crawlers hesitate, seeming to reassess the threat I pose. I don't give them time to strategize. Rolling around, I manage to grab a broken rock from the ground and hurl it at the scarred crawler, piercing what should be one of its primary sensory clusters.

  The creature reels backward, disoriented and in pain and I seize the opportunity to close the distance and finish it with a series of powerful strikes to its already damaged exoskeleton.

  Two down, one to go.

  The final crawler, the smallest of the three but still a formidable opponent, appears to reconsider its options. It begins to retreat toward one of the tunnel entrances, clearly deciding that this prey isn't worth the risk.

  I'm tempted to let it go, being exhausted, covered in wounds and with broken hands. But that awakened instinct resurfaces. A blind rage that refuses to allow prey to escape.

  With a burst of speed that surprises even me, I rush to intercept the crawler before it can disappear into the darkness. The battle is brief but vicious. The creature fights with the desperation of something that knows it's cornered, but my evolved strength proves too much. With a final, decisive blow, I crack its carapace and end its struggle.

  Silence falls over the cavern, broken only by my ragged breathing. My body aches and I can feel all my wounds healing. There is a throbbing pain that comes with a strange satisfaction, a testament to survival against overwhelming odds.

  Magba descends from her perch, approaching the fallen crawlers with an appraising eye. "Good! Very good for first real hunt."

  I wipe blood from my face, uncertain whether it's mine or the crawlers'. "You could have warned me about the third one."

  She clicks her tongue dismissively. "Would not have been same lesson. Now you always look for hidden enemies, yes?"

  I can't argue with her twisted logic, though I want to. Instead, I sink to my knees beside the largest crawler, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving me drained.

  "Now," Magba says, prodding the dead creature with her cane, "you eat."

  I look down at the creature, revulsion rising in my throat. "Raw? Now?"

  "Yes. While still warm. Best nutrients this way."

  My stomach turns at the thought. The scientist in me wants to protest about parasites and bacterial infections, but then I remember, I'm not human anymore. My biology is different. My stomach can probably handle things that would have killed any human.

  “Can’t I eat something normal for a change? Something like that meat Shokar brought to us when we were born?” I complain trying to plead for something more edible.

  “Those shshhhs sshhhsss sshhs toads!” With a complete change of tone, Magba angrily repeats that very graphical description of her thoughts about the Frogman. I’m really concerned about what that strange meat was now.

  With a sigh, Magba fixes me with her blind stare, somehow more piercing than if she could actually see. "How you think you survive soup? Body learning. Same with crawler meat. There is toxin inside them, makes you stronger." Well, they didn’t seem venomous at first, maybe something in their blood?

  I glance at the creatures, their still-twitching limbs and oozing wounds. The scientist in me understands the principle, controlled exposure leading to resistance. But the part of me that still clings to humanity revolts at the idea.

  "I can't," I say, shaking my head.

  Magba sighs heavily. "Then stay weak. Die in next fight. Such waste of good evolution."

  Her words sting because I know she's right. In this world, sentimentality is a luxury I can't afford. Survival requires adaptation and by now I've already crossed so many lines I once thought immutable. What's one more?

  With reluctant determination, I approach the smallest crawler. I close my eyes, trying to shut off the analytical part of my brain. I let the Lizardman part take over, the part that understands survival, that knows hunger and strength.

  Its flesh is still warm beneath my claws as I tear away a section of its underbelly.

  The meat beneath is pale and fibrous, glistening with a clear fluid that I suspect contains the toxin Magba mentioned. Steeling myself, I bring it to my mouth and bite down.

  Another taste that I can only classify and indescribable, in the worst sense. As I chew and swallow, a strange warmth spreads through my body, different from the burning of Magba's soup. This sensation is more like strength seeping into my muscles, replenishing what was spent in battle.

  "More," Magba encourages, nodding approvingly. "Take from big one too. Most powerful."

  Surprisingly, the second bite comes easier than the first. By the third, the largest of them, I'm no longer fighting my instincts but allowing them to guide me to the most nutritious parts of the creature.

  And as I continue to feed, an extraordinary change begins. My wounds, already healing thanks to my regeneration trait, accelerate their recovery. The lingering weakness in my regrown arm fades, replaced by a solid strength that feels completely natural. And most noticeably, the burning sensation left by the crawlers' toxin diminishes until it's barely perceptible.

  When I finally sit back, satiated and energized, Magba nods with satisfaction.

  "Now you understand," she says softly. "Body knows what it needs."

  I wipe my mouth, surprised to find I feel no disgust anymore, only a pragmatic appreciation for the strength I've gained. "Will it always be like this? Getting stronger from what I consume?" No wonder Ksh’zar became a beast.

  "Not every time, not every creature." she clarifies. "But yes, body learns. Adapts. Becomes stronger. This is way of our kind."

  As if to confirm her words, a familiar sensation ripples through me, not the full-body transformation of evolution, but something subtle yet still significant.

  [Ability Upgraded!]

  [Toxin Resistance]

  [Grade: Intermediate]

  Your body can now neutralize common toxins with minimal side effects.

  As I close my eyes to blink, the message appears as if it was written inside my eyelids. This very strange phenomenon leaves me simultaneously bewildered but also accepting at the same time. Maybe I could use some sort of meditation, which I unfortunately know basically nothing about, to guide or use it?

  These RPG-like notifications are becoming a normal part of my existence, as natural as the instincts that guided me through the battle.

  "Something changed?" Magba asks, her head tilted curiously.

  I nod, despite knowing she can't see it. "My resistance to their venom. It's stronger now."

  She looks thoughtful, as if remembering something, but immediately after grins, exposing her jagged teeth. "Good, good! Soon you ready for real challenge."

  I look at her, realizing something important. "You're not just training me to fight, are you?"

  Magba's blind eyes seem to see right through me. "Yes, much much more." She puts a gnarled hand on my shoulder.

  I’m not quite sure what to think of that, but for now, I've learned by now not to ask and get clubbered. Whatever comes next, I'll face it with this new body and evolving instincts. But still, there is a human scientist inside, with decades of learning by analyzing and questioning things and I vow to never give up this part of me.

  As we gather what remains of the crawlers to bring back to the cave, I reflect on how quickly I've adapted to this brutal existence. Just days ago, the thought of devouring a monstrous insect would have been unthinkable. Now, it's simply survival.

  The hunter and the hunted. In this world, you must be both to survive.

  And I intend to survive.