Norobo

Cliche. Another monster progression story. That was probably what you thought when you read the title of my story. And, I can't lie, for the most part, it probably is.

But, what else am I supposed to do when I've been thrusted into a world that could kill me in an instant? There's nothing to do but to progress, to devour and evolve. You would do the same too.

Such is the basis of a monster.

Such is the right of any living being. 

So that's what I did. I ate, I killed and I hoarded anything I could get my big limbs on. Friendship, allies and love? There used to be a little god calling himself "Heaven's Equal" who spouted of such things, before I ate him. The world went pretty quiet after that.

Follow my story. Read for yourself how I evolved from a little monster in a lake I thought was the ocean, all the way into the Titan Of Destruction. 


What To Expect:

- A relatively quick progression story

- Ruthless, I mean - Fang Yuag levels - of ruthless protagonist. 

- A system? that grows stronger along with the protagonist

- Big Monsters Duking It Out, with minimal humans/beastmen/elves, etc. . .focus. Basically, monsterverse without annoying ass humans ruining the show.

- Did I mention that the protagonist was pretty evil?

God, Help Us All [Monster Evolution/Progression/LitRPG]

James's breath hitched as he staggered forward, his legs screaming in protest. The barrier they'd torn through was still shimmering faintly behind them, the heat of Elyndor's fire-and-spirit energy lingering in the air like a suffocating blanket.

Ahead, Elyndor stood in the center of his ritual circle, the high-grade control rune glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. The lines of its intricate design pulsated in sync with the monstrous cocoon behind him. The molten surface of the cocoon was alive with cracks, molten energy seeping from the gaps. Each pulse of light seemed to sap the world of its strength, making even the air feel heavy and oppressive.

"Stay back!" Elyndor's voice boomed, distorted as if layered with the whispers of his spirits. His once pristine robes were scorched and torn, his face gaunt and shadowed by the ritual's toll. Yet his eyes burned with manic determination.

Rise Of The God-Beast