Arthur's colossal form lumbered through the Scorched Badlands, each step causing the cracked ground beneath his feet to tremble. He was no longer the drake he once was; his wings had grown broader, his tail thicker, and his horns, adorned with pulsing red runes, curled ominously above his head. The air around him vibrated with the power of his newly evolved [Psychic] ability, and Arthur could feel that the very atmosphere responded to his presence now.
I need to test this... properly.
He clenched his claws, feeling the immense pressure of his power boiling beneath the surface. It wasn't enough to tear apart weaker creatures; he needed something substantial, something that could push him. His thoughts immediately turned to the monsters that lurked on this island. The island was brutal—a crucible of survival where only the strongest endured—and Arthur had to evolve, faster, stronger, and more deadly.
