Calarata was a city of thieves and liars, and if you asked anyone, Albo was its champion.

More specifically, if you asked Albo. He was still struggling to have the anyone part work out in his favour.

He slammed his mug down, ale sloshing over the rim; four pints in and his cheeks burned like a solar newt's tail. Two weeks on the sea coming back to this—gods, he'd missed Calarata and its endless freedom. Pretending to be some high-n'-mighty merchant making port in the Kingdom's taverns just wasn't the same.

No place else could he toss back mugs and boast about selling a pack of hoarfrost wolves or the horns of a storm-bringer kobold to dozens of adoring fans—made easier by the fact there was no government to point out that they were all lies.

Well. One government, specifically of the one-man sort, but it wasn't like the Dread Pirate had any reasons to look at him. Far too busy demanding taxes and tithes from ships with a bit more gold where their mouths were.

The man across from him, equally foul-tongued and ruddy-cheeked, gestured at the bay with a sloshing mug—the tavern had an open-water wall, letting the merrow and sirens drink their fill alongside the terrestrial races. His clothes were plain but not shabby, manner quiet but not timid; a rather perfect boast partner.

"Then I beat the shit out of him," Albo drawled, rapping his four fingers on the bar table. "Steppin' on my ship without permission, he right deserved it. Bastard gave me all the gold he was carrying and double more when I carried his sorry ass back to port. I had ol' Oña toss him overboard. Ain't that right, Velesso?"

Oña rolled her eyes, downing another mug next to him—crewmates together, neither particularly friendly but both rather fond of alcohol. Velesso, though– the merrow rumbled unhappily from his place in the bay, finned hands splayed over the floor of the tavern's open side. Bastard had no reason to complain, not with his gills getting him drunk twice as fast. Especially with Calarata's hideous ale prices. His voice bubbled and danced with boredom. "You did make me take care of someone when I was on guard duty."

"See!" Albo slapped the table. "Got a fat payload off that pirating stowaway without a drop of blood. Although I could've killed him, no problem. Been a fighter for even longer than a sailor. Tell him!"

Him and the merrow were business friends at most, the underwater city of Arroyo situated just outside Calarata's cove and similarly uninterested in Leóro's rule; by the flat look in his white-ringed eyes, Albo could tell he was getting knocked down to business acquaintance. So be it. The merrow relied on them for legal trade.

"He's a fantastic fighter," Velesso droned, resting his finned elbows on the floor and carelessly knocking aside an empty mug to splash into the bay. "Good enough to fight pitch-sharks, even."

His drinking partner did raise an eyebrow at that, leaning in. Even Oña glanced over.

You bastard.

"Of course I've fought 'em," he said, leaning forward with as much swagger as he could while sitting down. "No pirate worth his salt hasn't fought with those gods-cursed devils. I took this knife here–" he fumbled, dragging his old coral blade out of its sheath "–and split one from its second maw down to its tail. Ever heard of anythin' like that, ho?"

"Can't say I've even heard of pitch-sharks."

Albo raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re in Calarata, which means you’re either a pirate none-too-fond of Leóro’s trading laws, or an adventurer none-too-fond of Leóro’s adventuring laws. Either way, you’ve heard of them.”

The man snorted, raising an offhand in surrender even as he drained another half a mug. "You got me. Adventurer. But besides, what's to say you could take one down?"

He narrowed his eyes. Bastard wasn’t believing it—which, fair, considering it was a lie—but that just wouldn’t stand. He was Albo of the Diving Darling, greatest ship in Calarata—another lie—and he certainly wouldn’t have this two-bit piece of shit call him out on it. "Now, I know I didn't just–"

"Excuse me?"

Both of them glanced over.

A rail-thin boy, lanky and skittish with malnourishment, padded closer with hands wringing. He looked like a stiff seawind would knock him over. "Apologies," he muttered, peering at the dozens of other bar patrons. "But are you sailors on the famed Diving Darling?"

Albo could have kissed him.

"No need to flatter me, boy," he pronounced, leaning in like he was right embarrassed by the praise. Oña set her mug down but didn't interrupt. "You've come to the correct man. Who're you?"

His drinking partner also settled forward, eyes bright. Hook, line, and fucking sinker with that one.

"Nicau," he said, hands still wringing. "And I wanted to ask if you know about what lives in the mountain." He glanced to the side again like he feared someone would pop their ugly head out from under a bar table and catch him. "My… friend went inside to collect treasure and hasn't come out."

Albo felt gold reflect in his eyes.

"It just so happens that I'm in the midst of two trade jobs," he said, pushing up from his chair. "And I'd be more than willing to help you reclaim your friend. Treasure, was it?"

The boy nodded.

"Now, I'll need the details if I'm going to help you. All of 'em, really…"

His drinking partner, interest fully peaked, stood to match him—Oña mirrored him. Both gold-hungry and plumped fat with ale, alongside the little streetboy starting to lead them out of the tavern, all timid and meek. No better stepping stones to clamber his way up to power.

It was fate, really. Things were all going Albo's way.

-

The great fat bear lumbered into my cavern, paws like boulders as they stomped and squished all my mushrooms without care—cave spiders chittered and spat with rage but did nothing, skittering higher into their ceiling safety.

But I had moved past relying only on Seros. My creatures, though still small and riddled with weaknesses, were developed.

I pushed strands of mana containing my plan into my chosen few.

The most aggressive of my spiders, the spindly little brute who'd already chomped and gnawed his way through a full lacecap, shuddered as my full attention dug into his insipid brain; but then he straightened, aiming all eight eyes down at the intruder marching below.

Three hundred feet until the bear reached my core.

He hooked a line of silk and dropped from the ceiling, legs contracted tight to his thorax—the bear, covered in its shaggy fur, didn't notice as the spider landed cautiously on its back. It snorted, shouldering past a rocky outcropping. Another three spiders jumped over.

Two hundred and fifty feet.

The spiders swarmed over its back, mandibles positively dripping with venom. I pushed more mana into them, not desperate but probably close, urging them to sink their fangs into its bulk.

They struck, and couldn't find their way past its shaggy fur. Their mandibles glanced off its natural protection, too small and weak to properly deliver their greatest attack; they were built to hunt insects and fend off bats. That was their limit.

The bastard of a bear marched on. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

My constrictors slunk their way forward, curling around stalagmites with their underbellies tensed and ready. Seros slipped into the pond, head raised barely an inch over the water, eyes narrowed to slits. My mana hovered nervously overhead.

And then my spider, most contentious of his bunch, managed to string together enough brain cells to make his own plan. He skittered forward, hooked legs only barely catching traction on the bear's back, and crawled his way up to its head. Specifically its ears.

More specifically, its thinly-furred ears.

Go, I urged, awareness swiveling in. Bite, rip, tear–

The glorious arachnid clambered up to the point of its ear and dug mandibles into flesh.

The bear rumbled, paused in its flippant destruction of my fungal gardens, and slammed its back against a rock outcropping. I snarled, watching three spiders be crushed, motes of mana flowing back to me—but the bravest stayed on, latched to its ear. More venom flooded through its system.

A base cave spider wouldn't have done anything but sting such a massive creature, but these were dungeon-born, specifically mine. Their venom might not kill the bear but it would at least start.

The bear growled, pale brown eyes zeroing back on me. I sharpened my mana to points. Over my dead body.

Ah. Technically under, depending on if they had moved my corpse. I chased that particularly distracting thought away.

My serpents rose sluggishly, barely moving to keep their grey-black scales out of the bear's attention; I jabbed a spear of mana into a den and spooked a group of toads, sending them croaking and panicking through the bear's path. It paused, tracking their mana-filled backs.

Four luminous constrictors raised their heads and exploded in white bioluminescence.

The bear bellowed, staggering back—and Seros shot from his lurking disguise in the pond and snapped his fangs into the beast's throat.

It screamed. Seros matched it in length but was woefully outcompeted in height and weight, and so he didn't try; as soon as he'd bitten it once he let go, slipping away to huddle beneath a stalagmite. The bear swiped wildly before it, claws cleaving through the air like an avalanche, eyes rolling and unfocused. Blinded.

But I, through the mana I'd flooded through Seros' system, got to watch his paralytic venom mingle with that of the cave spider's and start working.

Another wave of serpents reared their heads and blasted it with light—Seros darted around his sheltering rock outcropping and tore into its back flank, fangs and claws working in tandem. It roared and tried to swivel to face him, but its legs twitched and froze out of its control. Its eyes rolled.

A stray swipe tore through a stalagmite and the constrictor coiled around it, ripping it in half before it could even react; its frenzied stomps trampled toads and spiders to mush under its great paws, claws cleaving through another snake. Seros' venom slowed it but not nearly enough.

I pushed a strand of mana upwards.

The largest of my serpents, ten feet with a lazy attitude to match, uncoiled herself from her stone pillar and dropped onto its back.

It bellowed, legs locking to keep it from falling; but all she needed was the moment of confusion to twist her way around its chest, arrow-shaped head curling tight over its ribs. Once, twice—in its blind panic, it only noticed by the time she properly started constricting.

The fear truly set in then. I doubted it had ever felt that emotion before, lower apex predator as it was—but now, legs twitching out of its control and serpent winding her way around its chest, I took full appreciation of just how much it felt fear.

Roaring, it tried to claw at her scales, but Seros' venom had spread through its body and it could only shudder weakly, collapsing to its stomach. She tightened her grip, massive coils spiraling over its form. I watched its breath escape in a mana-filled cloud.

Seros raised his head, blood dripping from his front-most fangs. The hunger in my mana diffused but still my creatures closed in on the dying bear, eager for revenge if they had a pair of brain cells to rub together or merely sensing the mana on the air if not.

Our numbers culled, our mushrooms trampled—but oh, if I didn't near explode in pride as the bear died.

Mana, thick and heady like the finest wine, burst from its corpse to the air—the majority flew back to me but a not insignificant amount flooded through the surrounding creatures. My prized serpent hissed as her pathways filled, the lone spider on its ear—somehow managing to survive its frenzy and fall, I had no idea how—consuming more than his fill.

And Seros–

He padded back to my island as if half asleep, a hazy glow building under his scales; he slipped through the water and curled around my pillar, eyes closing and tail resting over his muzzle. Mana raced through his pathways.

A truly glorious message popped up in my core.

Your creature, an Underground Monitor, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Frilled Lizard (Uncommon): Deadly and mesmerizing, this creature grows wide, multicoloured frills surrounding its neck. When flared, it hypnotizes any opponents, freezing them in place long enough to bite with its paralytic venom. While it doesn't have the immense bulk of its previous forms, its speed and venom lethality make it clear it's a predator.

Seabound Monitor (Uncommon): Born deep in caves, nevertheless it has learned of the seas and wishes to follow. Gaining gills alongside its lungs, its finned claws and limbs allow for speed in both aquatic and terrestrial environments. What it lacks in bulk or venom it makes up for in mobility, highly dexterous and able to wind its way through even the smallest of cracks.

Lesser Crocodile (Uncommon): The great beasts of shallow waters, this reptile hasn't reached the upper echelons but even its lesser form is one to be feared. Trading its venom for overwhelming bulk and power, it disguises itself as it lurks on the surface, waiting for unsuspecting prey to be dragged to the depths by its immense jaws.