Flame spilled out of my mouth in a wide breath, drenching the swarm of bats in fire. They were giant bats, if my memory served me right, the sort of C-rank monsters that might intimidate weaker creatures, but to me they were hardly more than a nuisance. A single opponent would have been nothing, slaughter not battle, but groups were always bothersome, not because they posed any real danger, but because they dragged the whole affair out.
One of them thought it clever to dive from behind, as though I had not noticed its presence. Foolish. My wings carried me a little higher, and the instant it passed beneath, I exhaled again. The bat turned to charcoal mid-air, falling without ceremony.
I caught myself wondering, not without curiosity, how it might taste. Bat meat was not exactly something I had ever tried before, either in this life or the last, so perhaps this would be a first.
Nearly three weeks had passed since I left the nest, and I had begun to grow accustomed to this existence. Monsters like me did not require food in the way humans did, the magicules in the air were enough to sustain me indefinitely, provided I was not in a barren place where such energy was scarce. Yet I still hunted, and not out of necessity alone.
Part of it was the matter of taste. The memory of human food lingered, and no matter how far I drifted from that world, I could not bring myself to settle for feeding on nothing but ambient energy. Hunting allowed me to experiment, to try new flavours, even if the results were not always pleasant.
Another reason lay in growth. By consuming other monsters, my own reserves of magicules expanded, though that was only one of several paths. Training could also do it, as could draining myself deliberately and then refilling, or evolving, or defeating stronger foes. But training was slow, draining my reserves carried the risk of death, and evolution was not yet within my grasp. That left me with hunting, the safest and most reliable method available.
There was also the matter of combat experience. Carus's memories and instincts had been granted to me through the template, but borrowed experience was never quite the same as my own. If I was to grow into the strength I sought, I had to fight with my own claws, burn with my own fire, and learn the rhythm of battle for myself.
And, if I were being honest, there was boredom. The days stretched on, empty and monotonous, and hunting at least gave me something to do, even when the outcome was never in doubt.
That was precisely why, after reducing more bats than I cared to count, I grew impatient with the entire farce. Spreading my wings wide, I drew in magicules, shaping them into flames, and released them in a vast surge. Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation washed over the cavern, ending the swarm in one overwhelming blaze.
With two bats clutched under my talons and a third dangling from my jaws, I turned back toward the cave I had claimed, one that had once belonged to a bird monster before he too had fallen to my flames.
Settling down, I tore into the bat's flesh without deliberate care, testing the taste before committing. To my mild surprise, it was not bad at all. A little gamey, but savoury in its own way, certainly better than I had expected. The only pity was that I lacked a Predator-type ability. Had I possessed one, I might have gained their skills along with their flavour.
If memory served, these bats were known for a rather peculiar trait, the ability to temporarily copy the skills of others by drinking their blood, though only to about seventy percent efficiency. That was precisely why I had been so careful not to let them get too close. Had even one of them managed to sink its fangs into me, it might have acquired my flame resistance, and that would have made the hunt far more troublesome than it needed to be.
As for killing them, I did not feel bad in the slightest. A week in this world had been more than enough to teach me the law of the jungle. I had even survived a few assassination attempts already, though calling them assassinations was probably giving those creatures too much credit.
The truth was that most monsters in this world were not sentient in the first place, which was why the category of majins even existed. They were the ones who had evolved from their non-sentient kin, gaining awareness and power, and often hunting the very species they had once been part of. Tempest itself was proof enough of that cycle.
If anyone in this world were to lay eyes on me now, they might very well call me a unique monster, if only because of my intelligence. After all, true intellect was usually reserved for the higher-ranking dragons, while wyverns and lesser dragons were more commonly treated as mounts or hunted for food.
In a way, I could say my situation was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because as a monster, my options for growth were far broader than they had been as a human. I could gain strength, expand my magicules, wield magic, and eventually evolve. But at the same time, it was a curse, since I would inevitably be branded as an enemy by humans, especially because I was not just a monster, I was an intelligent one.
Worse still, there was always the possibility of drawing the attention of that guy. If he ever decided I posed a threat to humans, I would be in far more trouble than just dealing with a flock of bats. After all, I did not have the protection of a Storm Dragon, nor was I on friendly terms with a certain Destroyer.
But just because of that fear, I could not afford to stop growing stronger. If I did, sooner or later, I would just end up being killed anyway.
A paradox, really. Grow stronger and risk being noticed, or stay weak and get crushed.
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Since gaining skills permanent decrease magicules what about skills made/gained by Degenerate/ Usurper and predator does they decreases permanent magicules reserve? Can it be recovered by training and other methods?