Even with all of the wonderful, lovely, darling, beautiful evolutions I'd already done, there were still three more messages crawling across my core.

Don't misunderstand it, I was still not particularly pleased at the mass-scale invasion, and I raged and cursed and hated all that they had taken from me; but, well. These evolutions were very, very appreciated.

Not even appreciated, earned. I'd earned these fucking evolutions, and it was well within my right to claim them.

So claim them I shall.

The vampiric mangrove disappeared under a scarlet glow, the last of the blood from the dryadic corpses dissolving into motes of light that swirled around its trunk as it settled in for a long change—I'd, um. Hm.

It was a tree. How was I supposed to move it down a floor once it finished evolving? I couldn't just keep it in the Drowned Forest—Rhoborh wouldn't accept the new changes and for all that I'd been a sea-drake, I had a moderate understanding of how dryads worked. They needed to protect their Ancestral Tree, and leaving said vulnerable tree in the front entrance of my second floor felt like, to put it lightly, a terrible idea.

But. Ah.

Again, it was a tree. I couldn't very well open up a path down a floor and wait for it to merrily trot its way down.

A question for a later me.

I drifted away from its evolution, sending a few calming tendrils of mana throughout the room to keep creatures from latching onto its current defenseless state, and called Seros back to me; he straightened, sea-green scales still crackling with excess mana, lightning forking around his frills and ivory fangs. His will was indomitable, but creatures were meant to evolve; he could only hold this back for so long before the urge to sleep took over the hunger and the hunt.

To my hoard room, I urged, carving the quickest path out in his mind; he rumbled his agreement and slipped back into the canals, letting the current tug him along as he swam on. A few creatures, particularly those slighted by not having received an evolution, poked their heads out of their dens as if they planned to attack.

The mana burning off Seros' scales quickly convinced them that no, they did not in fact want to fight him.

Smart choice.

As Seros made his way down to my fifth floor, I had one more task to complete before I read his message, and I flew to the Jungle Labyrinth with a glee that bordered on hysteria. It had been a long, long time since the first cave bear had graced my halls with its presence, and since a crushing force had fallen from the ceiling and wrapped it up tight enough to cut off blood flow and let the cave spider's venom and Seros' mighty claws finish off the rest. Her evolution had been one of my first, and look how far she'd already come with it.

So now it was time for another.

The horned serpent was ready to evolve.

She hadn't taken quite the same level of care as Chieftess, merely a few glances over her serpentine horde before she'd slithered back to the den herself, dragging the unconscious body of the naga-ancestry human, Kriya. But I'd expected that of her. She ruled her horde with tyrannical precision, and those that fell behind were left behind; she had no time nor care for those that couldn't keep up with her.

It was an interesting discussion. Were the kobolds made weaker by Chieftess' kindness, or were the snakes made too few by the horned serpent's apathetic cruelty?

I certainly tended to lean towards draconic strength, but I had also seen how well the kobolds worked together and how one could rise above, such as with Chieftess, where in the horned serpent's army, the only way a snake could prove itself was by evolution. Whereas there were healing kobolds, hunting kobolds, defending kobolds already, even if they all shared the same species. On the fourth floor, a snake proved themself by either bringing back enough food for the horned serpent or becoming food themselves, but by sticking with her, eventually they garnered enough mana to evolve, which was more than many of the kobolds above could say, and they'd been a group for much longer than the horned serpent's horde.

Fascinating, really. That was why I had such a diverse dungeon; if I only had one or the other, I would never have seen this perspective.

But for now, the horned serpent slithered back to her den, snakes clearing the way before her in a rippling wave; very understandable, considering her grey-black scales were glowing like a second sun with excess mana. She bowed her antlered head to get through the opening, underbelly scrapping on harsh limestone before she reached the gentle moss I'd spread over her den. She peered into the mound I'd carved in the back, piled high with slumped bodies of other evolving serpents, and made a distinctly pleased hiss; greater soldiers for her sprawling army. I was, in particular, looking forward to seeing her reaction to the newest horned serpent.

Absolutely no doubt in my mind she'd beat the young thing into the ground first, to make very, very clear that this would not be a rivalry situation, but then hopefully she would train her little follower into reaching the same heights that she had.

The heights that were only ever climbing as she finally, finally, curled up atop a bed of granite I warmed as best I could with a faux sun of quartz-light and settled down for her evolution.

I read her message with a glee that can truly not be overstated.

Your creature, a Horned Serpent, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Psionic Serpent (Rare): Its body is covered in crystalline horns, extending from the point of its nose to the tip of its tail; harnessing raw mental force, it has no need for simplistic movement, carrying itself by power of mind alone.

Naga (Rare): From the foes it kills and claims, it takes; shedding its animalistic form, it hunts with both claws and tail, speaking hissed lies to those greater and ripping out throats of those weaker.

Empress Serpent (Rare): For all its followers are blindly loyal, it demands more; slipping from mind to mind, it controls its rising horde to do its bidding, allowing only perfection from those that swear fealty.