Kobolds cower at the bottom of the foodchain, forced to eke out a meager existence in the most wretched of caves.

Most have made peace with their lot in life; one of eating scraps and carrion. They hide and run from predators, delaying the inevitable day when they aren't fast or sneaky enough to make their escape.

But not Samazzar. Sam is different from other Kobold pups.

Traps and caves might keep him and his people alive, but sometimes, just living isn't enough. Dragon blood runs through him, and Sam isn't willing to settle for mere survival. Whether by claw, magic, or cunning, one day he will soar above the plains, predator rather than prey.

And nothing–be it the mockery of his tribe, the hazards of the deep caves, or even the almost insurmountable difficulty of successfully evolving his bloodline–nothing is going to stop him.

She became a dungeon core.

Everything pointed Delta to murdering her way to success. People were just mana farms, right?

No, that was wrong. Delta refused. Then everything became odd.