Monsters don't always have a good childhood, even if they're the top predators.

I've always envied cubs who can see their parents when they open their eyes, not that I like the kind of life where you have unearned meat, restful nights, extra body temperature in the winter, and so on. Living in a group can deprive one of the ability to survive alone, and in the impermanent hunting grounds, it means death.

I envy the fact that they can learn all the necessary survival skills early on from the blood—running, hunting, hiding and healing, learning to identify dangerous territory and inferior water sources, learning to fight monsters more powerful than themselves and squeezing every bit of heat out of the cold ice fields, and even how to rub off the broken scales and dull claws of the previous year on the stone walls.

These are the skills I have learned from escaping death time and time again, but they can be found at my fingertips like the morning dew on a spring day or a scareless herbivorous dragon. The lucky guy can spend the first two years, or even three years, by the side of the mother, and then, with a body fat enough to survive the cold winter and complete and immature skills, live alone in isolation, occupy the territory of an old and weak monster, and start a new life from there.

And those who are lucky enough to inherit the territory of the previous generation...... Oh, they're the darlings of this world. These monsters don't have to bother to explore, they can know every trap left by nature in their territory, every fork in the road and hidden healing places, and just by releasing their fighting spirit, they can make the captive herbivores obediently sacrifice their sick and weak members. However, on the other hand, the darlings have experienced very few real battles, and almost all the unique conditions imposed on them have been wasted. Aside from being punctured with horns and teeth by desperate low-level monsters, he has not experienced any injuries.

I love fighting people like that, they're always happy to lose, and they don't have much nostalgia for their innate territory and everything on it - unless they're hungry, I'll let them go. Watching them leave with their tails hanging down, limping on one leg or blind in one eye, I thought of my mother's words: "Fighting is what the Ragane are all about." ”

She may not have said that, but we are not born with such precise intentions. But in those cold and bitter winter nights, I remembered over and over again in my dreams what she had been like when she conveyed the words with a clumsy howl—dark golden fur, one corner as if broken by something, bleeding profusely, dying.

Like all of my kind, my father was gone early, my mother was killed by a human crossbow, and it wasn't until much later that I realized that the inconspicuous particles of metal, no more than a finger thick, were more formidable than a strong claw strike. I was thrown into the ice cellar, where I spent some of the longest days and nights of my life, fortunately without the attention of the hunters, and that was the only and last memory I had of my mother.

Anyway, I wandered alone for a long time, and it wasn't easy to survive on the ice fields, and I had to stuff every bit of food I could find into my mouth. For a long time, I could only feed on the cubs of the Poison Dragons - those white bugs were not delicious, and if I was not careful, they would be attached to my body and suck out a mouthful of blood, but the Poison Dragons were one of the few monsters on the snowy mountains that didn't care about the number of children.

How many inferior monsters have never thought of envying the powerful physique of our race, but in fact, my mind has to grow up before my body, and every day I can feel that my vision is clearer, my mind is more sensitive, and I can remember more things. But I'm still weak, and when I'm prey, I'm lurking on the edge of the territory of the strong, and most of the time I'm banished, but I'm lucky enough to see the lords fighting each other, and watching how they scratch each other's chests and throats, that's how I learned to fight.

I left the snow about the following summer, when the snow line was at its highest, and now that I think about it, it was the best decision I've ever made in my life.

I'll always remember the day I crossed the territory of a stupid predator species. At low altitudes, the level of monsters is also incredibly low. I preyed on a few herbivores in its territory and scared the rest away, but I didn't wait for the angry lord to retaliate. Too lazy to search through the criss-crossed forest paths, I finally reluctantly let the coward go.

Distraught by the accumulated war spirit, I threw my head up and howled a few times. There were no birds scattered and no insects chirping in my fright, and I suddenly realized that there might be a strong man lurking near that area. So I followed my instincts and poked my head out of the trees.

From that moment on, my dreams became the same—always the sun casting a little spotted glowworm from the top of the canopy, always the little river that flowed quietly through the woodland, always the mossy boulder in the middle of the river, the leaves of the tree were blown by the wind at the perfect time, and its little back stood on the mossy stone for eternity.

It heard my footsteps and then turned to me and said, "Do you want water?" ”

…………

I had the impression that I was frozen there in dismay—all living beings probably reacted the same way when they saw something they couldn't understand. In my past life, the only voice that I have ever heard in my head that does not belong to me tells me to dedicate my life to fighting all those who are in sight. I've learned countless fighting techniques, but I don't know and don't need to communicate with other beings until that moment.

I never knew that an idea could be expressed so clearly and concisely, as simple as focusing your gaze on an enemy's throat and tearing it apart with your claws. It took me about a minute to understand that this was more than just a sound, but a wonderful, harmonious way of thinking. It's like being pushed from behind into an icy stream, and then climbing ashore unprepared to see a wet, but clearer world.

"Say it again!" I wanted to urge it as I looked eagerly into its red eyes, but all I could say was a word that I hastily learned from its mouth.

"Water ......"

"Ahh I know—" it said, leaping from the middle of the river to the shore. I can do the same, but it doesn't look so fluffy, and I definitely don't let the mane on my back spine spineless. I swore I never liked white things, white snow, white monster scales, I hated all these white things, and that's why I left the icefield. But those manes ...... Hell, that's the perfect shade for it, and I can't think of what it would be like if they were as dark as I did.

It's like being in a distant foreign wilderness, and suddenly encountering the lords you knew well as a young man, the predators who once robbed you of your food and shelter, and beat you to the ground. You don't hold a grudge against it, but rub it on the neck and maybe have a good fight.

So I did that, showing my teeth and horns at the beautiful unicorn in front of me.

The next thing I remember was sinking my face into the icy stream and watching a small fish an inch long swim in panic in front of the tip of my nose. I was over three meters long enough to easily defeat a monster twice my size, but I couldn't do anything about a creature that was only two-thirds my size, with no claws or fangs. I don't feel humiliated by the feeling of its cold hooves against the back of my head—even if it is defeated, a monster that grows into a low-level herbivore will never be able to kill me.

"Water ......," I pleaded intermittently, shaking my head as I could. Perhaps moved by my exhortation, it relaxed its front hooves before I could exhaust the last breath in my lungs.

I climbed ashore and, covered in water, without hesitation, sent the right horn into its slender hind legs.

It wasn't until much, much later, that we went through countless battles, and that was the only time I actually hurt it. Its fur was thicker than I expected, but there was nothing it could do about the invincible horns. I've killed countless monsters, but the feeling of this blow is the only one that I will remember for a long time.

As expected, I received immediate retribution, not by the thick pillar of thunder that fell from the sky, but by its blood. It was a hundred times more noble and dangerous blood than me, and it corroded my right corner to a thousand holes in the middle of a breath, and for the next six months, I had to keep tilting my head while fighting.

It's just that at that time, I didn't have time to care about the wound on my head, and I broke free from the dazzling blue lightning, and I felt that the electric light that fell on my body did not dissipate, but flowed between my fur. The tiny arc of electricity was like a rare hot spring on the ice field, gently kneading every muscle in my body.

It was a power I had never felt before, and I let out a roar and leaped into the middle of the river, only to be stimulated by the thunder and lightning, I was much more powerful than I had expected, and my body flew directly over the whole river, and in an ugly position I fell into the mud pile on the opposite bank.

I stood up, shook off the mud spots from my body, and looked at it in disbelief. It dragged a few steps back on one of its injured hind legs and looked at my body with some surprise.

"What's going on?" I wanted to ask, but I still only said "water ......"

"Go to the water's edge," it said to me, its tone full of surprise.

I approached the stream obediently, and the reflection on the surface of the river was something I had only seen in my dreams—dark golden fur, broken horns, and filthy body. I walked left and right, and the vague shadow of the beast on the water also moved left and right, and I stared at it for a long time, until I realized that this familiar and unfamiliar monster in my sight was what the Ragane clan should be.

And the guy who helped me find this appearance was standing on the other side of the river, covered in a wonderful white fur like snow.

…………

We walked through the wilderness, saw deserts, swamps, volcanoes, and strangely shaped rocks laid out by the humans of the past, and we fought all sorts of powerful monsters - it was always me who fought, and it would stand silently in the distance that I couldn't see. Sometimes, when I met a strong man who couldn't be defeated, it shook its beautiful silver horn and sent down a thunderbolt for me. Once I'm dressed in golden fur, no monster will dare to stop us.

It was the happiest time of my life, I learned to communicate and think like it, and fighting and hunting were never as easy as those days. Except that it doesn't like to share its prey with me - it always says, "True dragons don't need to eat." Then he stroked his mane and watched me from afar as I feasted on all kinds of fat animal meat.

Its attack didn't hurt me alone - it might burn a little if you got serious, but that's about it. So occasionally, we would climb to the top of the mountains, and it would summon thunder and lightning from the night sky for the two of us to bathe in. I love it for doing this, and the turquoise electric light that falls from the sky seems to make me step into a river flowing from the stars. At that time, even though I have learned too many words, I will stubbornly cry out "water!" Water! That was the first word I learned from its mouth.

…………

That's why when the phrase "you should leave" came out of its mouth, it caught me off guard. The lightning was heavier and louder than ever, and the lightning pierced through my fur, causing my limbs to ache like thousands of ants. I poured, prayed, but I couldn't remember what I said, and the lightning struck my mind into a nasty void.

It retreated to the other side of the cliff, and there it spoke, as if I were some kind of unapproachable taboo: "There are countless powerful monsters living on the entire continent, and this hunting ground is only the tip of the continent. When you defeat every strong man, you will be qualified to protect me. ”

"Kirin!" It was the first time I had called it by its name, and instead of sadness, I felt anger, the only emotion in the blood of the Ragane. "I'm not as smart as you, but I'm not stupid either! I've seen you summon a storm, and I know you're the strongest monster on the continent. I don't need to defeat the others, I just need to defeat you! ”

"You'll regret it." Its red eyes were unfamiliar at first sight.

I was so angry, I stood up, lightning poured out of my body, and the hair on my body shivered involuntarily. My hair turned a solid blonde that even I couldn't believe, and the two strands of mane on my back straightened upwards and stretched into two majestic wings, and additional electric light spilled out from under my skin and wrapped around my chest and arms. I don't know where this power comes from, and I don't care, the arc next to me is so bright that it makes my eyes sour.

"Fighting is what the Ragane are all about." I responded, "It doesn't matter who the opponent is. ”

It was a long time before I realized that being able to transform into a golden body on my own was a sign of my coming of age as a golden lion.