Chapter 58: The Evolution of the Two Beasts!

It shed its skin and fur layer by layer like a serpent molting, and when the evolution was complete, it had transformed into a colossal beast over three meters tall, its coat now jet-black and gleaming. Three enormous heads stood side by side, all baring ferocious, razor-sharp teeth. Its eyes burned a blood-red, as if flames leapt within them, exuding an aura of violence and terror that was impossible to meet directly.

Though still somewhat weak, its formidable presence was unmistakable—now a terrifying monster, powerful enough to sweep across the entire arena.

“Three-headed Hound: Special Totem. Evolved. Upgrade possible. Evolution success rate: 12%. Evolution points required: 12.
Abilities: Scorch, Gnaw, Death Howl.”

Charles’s face was alight with unconcealed excitement; he hadn’t expected it to evolve into the mythical Hellhound, the dreadful guardian of the gates of the underworld. Moreover, seething heat now surged within its body—every attack would inflict some degree of flame damage. It even possessed the mysterious, psychic assault of Death Howl.

“The ultimate form should be the legendary Hellhound, endowed with flame abilities, and likely enhancing its psychic powers further, perhaps gaining that most terrifying power of soul-devouring from Greek myth.”

Charles’s eyes shone. He realized his earlier intuition had not been mistaken; this creature was born to be noble and extraordinary, not to die miserably like a stray dog.

He raised his hand to stroke the beast’s glossy black fur, unable to resist. “Very good. From now on, you’ll follow me. Your name shall be Miro.”

He recalled the beloved molten hound pup from his days playing Warcraft, and bestowed its name upon this creature.

Miro dipped its heads in submission, its eerie, blood-red eyes filled with intimacy and reliance. Yet its innate pride kept it from showing the same affection as Firefly, who chirped in protest and perched on Charles’s shoulder to assert its status.

Charles chuckled and turned his gaze to the other arena beast.

This two-headed mutant ape stood two meters tall, its physique burly and robust—stronger even than a gorilla, or it wouldn't have been chosen for the arena.

“There are no apes like this in Western myth. I wonder if it’s a genetic mutation or if it carries some mysterious biological legacy.”

From piecing together the plot, he’d discovered that many future beasts were drawn from Western myth—dragons, phoenixes, and so on. The appearance of Miro, the three-headed hound, only confirmed his suspicions.

Unfortunately, he could recall no multi-headed monkey among legendary creatures.

No matter—Charles decisively activated the multicolored pinecone, converting it into a semi-totem. Fixing his gaze on the translucent interface’s three-dimensional projection, he mentally pressed the “+” symbol, and his evolution points drained away like water.

Just as with Miro, the two-headed mutant ape began to swell, rising from two meters to four in the blink of an eye, transforming into a beast straight out of a science fiction film.

A deafening roar echoed as the gigantic beast pounded its massive arms against its chest, producing a fearsome tremor.

Charles watched in astonishment as its tawny fur fell away, replaced by a layer of golden scales. Its sharp-muzzled, monkey-faced heads grew even more pointed, resembling those of a python, and the tongues it flicked out had become slender, forked serpentine tongues.

“Two-headed Mutant Ape: Special Totem. Evolved. Upgrade possible. Evolution success rate: 6%. Evolution points required: 15.
Abilities: Venom, Death Embrace, Super Strength, Super Agility.”

What on earth was this thing?

It looked as though its heads would gradually morph into snake heads, its body coated in scales, and a massive bulge had appeared on its back—was it about to sprout wings as well?

Charles stared, speechless, having no idea what this creature might eventually become. But its strength had clearly multiplied many times over, making his earlier investment worthwhile.

“A bit ugly. I’ll call you Kong—just don’t go climbing skyscrapers for a human and swatting at planes like that moron.”

The gigantic two-headed ape beat its chest again, the force of it making Charles’s own blood surge; its power was truly immense.

“Just like a dog can’t change its nature, you’re as obsessed with chest-thumping as that idiot. Settle down!” Charles snapped.

The soul-deep bond of master and servant left the beast plopping obediently to the ground, scratching its head in fear—a kind of clumsy, dopey charm about it.

Miro, the three-headed hound, stood to one side, eyes full of haughty disdain.

“As expected, not entirely reliable… Never mind. Get up and start looking for any nearby irradiated creatures worth hunting,” Charles ordered, giving it a kick as he led his two newly evolved monsters away.

Both beasts had evolved twice, costing him a total of twenty-five evolution points. Now he had to hurry and hunt more irradiated monsters, or he’d never be able to expand the number of semi-totems.

Previously, his aptitude allowed him to command one main totem and three auxiliary totems. With the amplification of the multicolored pinecone, he could now control as many as thirty semi-totems.

Just imagine—thirty monsters like Miro and Kong—he could escape from even the ultimate forms with ease!

Escape, yes; but as for defeating them… Charles had no confidence in that.

An ultimate form had completely transcended mere flesh; it was the pinnacle of a creature’s evolution—like a carp leaping the dragon gate, shedding all previous limitations.

Even a venomous stinger bee, once it became an ultimate form, could easily overpower the likes of the three-headed hound.

Only he possessed such a cheat as the Totem Modulator. If a True God Cultist had the multicolored pinecone, they still couldn’t cultivate so many evolved monsters so rapidly, let alone ultimate forms.

That was the root cause of the True God Cult’s eventual defeat in the story—they had quantity, but far too few ultimate forms and divine beasts.

A single ultimate form could slaughter hundreds, even thousands, of evolved beasts; a divine beast could unleash cataclysmic powers and annihilate tens of thousands at once.

Such lack of high-end strength left them helpless before the rising heroes. Even the final activation of the Tree of Life failed, struck down by the intervention of divine beasts, leading to their ultimate, inevitable demise.

“It seems the road ahead is long. I still have far too few totems—I need to find a way to increase my number of evolved forms by at least five.”

Charles sighed. If anyone else heard him complain like this, they’d probably want to cut him down with an axe.

After all, most people could barely manage two evolved forms in their entire lives, exhausting years of savings in the process!