Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO ON KINDLE SEPT. 2)

Elijah thudded down outside of town, numb to the emotions roiling in a quarantined part of his mind. He’d given himself entirely over to the simmering rage, and it had burned through everything else, pushing it out until nothing else remained.

Nothing he would acknowledge, at least.

Still, the screams of his victims echoed in his mind. Most of them were pirates. They were a stain upon the world, preying upon those weaker than them and profiting off of death and plunder. Yet, most was not all, and Elijah had killed quite a few people whose only real crime was association with the wrong people.

He refused to regret his actions, though. The destruction of Bloodrock Bay was necessary, and an example needed to be made. Even so, he wished events hadn’t pushed him in that direction.

Those feelings only lasted as long as it took him to remember the violation of his grove. It made him sick just thinking about all those dead creatures, about the destroyed flora and, most of all, about Nerthus. The spryggent was still immobile, though Ron’s efforts had begun to bear fruit. Elijah could feel his friend recovering with every passing hour.

But it had been close.

So, so very close.

And ultimately, there were only two more people he held responsible for what had happened. All the pirates were dead. Bloodrock Bay was destroyed. And now, he was standing outside of Kel’ilathen – an elven settlement where he knew he would find the man who’d hired the pirates.

Breeze.

The alchemist was famous. Elijah didn’t really travel in the sorts of circles where the elf’s name might come up, but even so, he’d heard of Breeze. Even Biggle had acknowledged that he was the elf’s inferior, at least when it came to alchemical pursuits.

It was a shame, then, that he would have to die. Elijah had been warned about Alchemists. Across the multi-verse, they were known as ruthless collectors of natural treasures. Their profession practically demanded it. And yet, Elijah hadn’t heeded those warnings. He’d thought the grove was safe – if not via direct means like Nerthus’ stewardship, then due to Elijah’s reputation.

Who would willingly cross the most powerful man in the world, after all?

The answer was an Alchemist who couldn’t resist the allure of an untouched Druid’s grove that was, quite possibly, the most magical place on Earth. The ancestral tree was certainly the most powerful natural treasure in the world, and the grove had created a perfect environment for others to grow.

That was its point, after all. Elijah had invested two major natural treasures in the tree’s growth and multiple of his rewards – like the ash lotus seed and the frozen oak – into the development of the island. Nerthus’ entire purpose was to cultivate and grow the power of the grove.

So, Elijah didn’t really blame Breeze for surrendering to the pull. For an Alchemist, it was the holy grail. Yet, understanding did not preclude hatred, and Elijah very much hated the elf.

He strode forward, barely noticing the dried viscera on his jacket. Or the blood on his face. Those were unimportant.

The settlement was placed in the middle of an idyllic grassland, nearly a thousand miles inland from Bloodrock Bay. There was a set of Teleportation Spires nearby, though Elijah hadn’t bothered to use them. Instead, he’d flown the entire way, using Lightning Rush to cut the travel time by quite a lot. He’d hardly even noted the terrain – a rarity for him – and instead, focused on the fury in his heart.

The town itself was unremarkable, save for a large palace placed upon a subtle rise. That was his destination. As he passed through the town, he noted that the place was entirely populated by elves. However, they were slightly different from the others of their race he’d met. Short and lithe, they were only a little taller – on average – than dwarves, with tan skin and tattoos. Most wore minimal clothing and bore decorative flowers or garlands in their hair. It all contributed to a slightly wild look that reminded Elijah of primitive and remote tribal people who eschewed modernity.

But the town was little different from many others he’d visited. There were the normal eateries he’d come to expect. Individual houses, as well. Gathering places. Drinking halls. It was just a normal town, and one that seemed fairly prosperous, considering the general health of its inhabitants.

However, there was a note of fear underlying the entire population. They didn’t precisely cringe away from him – though that would have been expected, given his appearance. Rather, they seemed to hold themselves with a degree of subservience that, even in his distracted state, stood out to Elijah. Bowed heads, a lack of eye contact, and furtive glances were just the start, but there were a thousand other indicators in their body language.

It all added up to oppression.

These people didn’t look like they’d been mistreated, but any sense of independence had long since been beaten out of them. And in Elijah’s state, he knew precisely who to blame.

Fortunately, none of the elves tried to stop him. That might have been due to the fact that he’d manifested his Crown of Authority and let Nature’s Flame envelop him. That, combined with his shimmering cape and the aura that came from holding multiple spells on the cusp of activation, painted a vivid picture that told them not to impede his path.

So, he reached his destination – the palace – without issue. As he approached, Elijah couldn’t help but notice the architecture, which was quite a bit curvier than anything made by humans. Any other time, he might have appreciated the artistry on display in the stained glass windows, graceful arches, and asymmetrical design. However, in his current state, he just catalogued the details as confirmation that he’d found the elf’s abode.

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He met his first resistance when a pair of guards – both wearing full plate armor and carrying wicked halberds – tried to stop him from entering. They did not succeed in their mission, and their heads ended up separated from their bodies. Elijah didn’t even need to strain, his attributes were so much higher than theirs.

The next set of guards also fell victim to his scythe, though one managed to raise her halberd in defense while the other thrust his forward. Elijah slapped the oncoming attack aside, then rammed his fist into the guard’s chest. He went flying backward to collide with the doorframe behind him. The female guard’s raised weapon proved no impediment to the Verdant Fang, and she died at the end of a descending blade.

Elijah finished off the male – whose breastplate had collapsed, crushing his sternum – with a quick swipe of his scythe.

Then, he kicked the door in. It flew off its hinges, splintering under the impact. The remnants flew inside, skipping across the tile floor until they hit a statue of a regal-looking elf. Elijah didn’t break stride as he entered.

No one else stood in his way. Either Breeze didn’t think he needed more than four guards, or the remainder had chosen to flee. Whatever the case, it didn’t take Elijah long to cast his awareness across the entire palace and pinpoint the Alchemist’s location. Predictably, he’d placed himself inside his laboratory.

Oddly, he didn’t seem panicked.

Indeed, it was like he was waiting for Elijah, patiently sitting in his lab, his legs lazily crossed and his hands on his lap. For some reason, that infuriated Elijah even more, so when he reached the laboratory, his fury practically crackled in the air. Once again, he kicked the door in.

“It was unlocked, you know. You didn’t need to destroy my door.”

“Are you the Alchemist Breeze?”

“Guilty,” the elf said, spreading his slender hands. He looked different from the other elves in the settlement. Tall, slim, and refined – he was like an idealized version of the features associated with other elves. Even his ears were longer, tapering to a fine point after nearly four inches.

Otherwise, his blonde hair had been gathered into a queue at the nape of his neck, while his attire was clearly rich, though with an undeniable air of practicality.

“Did you hire the pirates and send them to my plunder my grove?”

He sighed. “I won’t deny it.”

Elijah stepped forward. He didn’t really need the confirmation. He’d heard the tale from more than one mouth. Still, it was good to know he’d found the right guy.

“Wait.”

“I won’t spare you. You had to expect that.”

“Truthfully, I didn’t expect them to fail so miserably.”

“Then you are stupider than I thought,” Elijah remarked, his grip tightening on the haft of his scythe.

“Perhaps. At the very least, I am afflicted with inexcusable hubris. However, I don’t believe you will kill me.”

“Why not?”

“Two reasons, actually,” he said. “The first is simple – I am far more valuable to you and your planet alive than dead. Already, my body cultivation potions are being used by the world’s elite. Those are the people who will conquer the Primal Realms. Eventually, those benefits will trickle down to the commoners, exponentially bolstering this planet’s defenses. Ultimately, that’s why I targeted your grove. A mistake, I’ll admit, but an honest one. I’m only trying to do my part for this world’s survival.”

Elijah’s grip tightened.

“What’s the other reason?” he growled.

“Not the altruistic sort, are you? That should not be surprising. A man of your stature does not achieve power through generosity,” Breeze said. “Then you should understand how much I have to offer you, personally. Doubtless, your cultivation has stalled, has it not? This baby planet can only support so much progress. I can assist with that. With proper support, I can brew potions that will allow you to reach the third – maybe even the fourth – stage within the next twenty years.”

“Twenty years,” Elijah muttered.

“Perhaps as soon as fifteen!” Breeze said, smiling. He obviously thought he’d struck a chord. “But only with proper support.”

Elijah stared at the elf for a long moment. Then, he said, “No.”

“Pardon?”

“I said no. Because of you, seventy-four animals are dead,” stepping toward the elf.

“What?” Breeze breathed, flinching away.

“And countless plants have been destroyed.”

“I don’t under-”

Elijah took another step forward, continuing, “They killed a guardian, too. A beautiful lunar deer who left behind two children and a mate.”

“They’re just beasts…”

Breeze clearly knew what was coming, and he’d fallen backward, his eyes darting around in fear.

Elijah didn’t care.

“My friend was injured. Nearly killed by one of your concoctions.”

“The spryggent? They’re not even truly –”

Elijah stopped, only a few feet away. “But do you want to know why I’m going to kill you? Truly?”

Breeze could only nod.

“Because you violated the sanctity of my grove. I will not stand for that.”

Elijah raised his scythe, but before he could bring it down, the Alchemist produced a small glass vial, which he flicked in Elijah’s direction. It shattered against his chest, erupting into a cloud of black smoke that, in the space of an instant, filled the room. It didn’t stop there, either. Instead, even as Elijah staggered backward, weakened by whatever affliction it had inflicted, he felt the smoke spread throughout the palace. Wherever it went, people dropped dead. There was no coughing. No outward indication that they’d been poisoned. They simply fell.

Then, the smoke seeped out of the palace and into the surrounding town.

Elijah lost track of it, then. The sense granted by Soul of the Wild wasn’t powerful enough to envelop the entire settlement. But he knew that, wherever that cloud of smoke went, it would kill.

Breeze remained perfectly healthy, though.

Even as Elijah struggled to breathe, Breeze straightened to his full height. Then, he said, “You silly barbarian. Did you think I would allow you to simply come in here and threaten me? I –”

Elijah released the spells he’d been holding, casting Wild Resurgence, then Nature’s Bloom, and finally, Blessing of the Grove. A huge and glowing sunflower bloomed as rain fell upon Elijah’s head, soothing the ill effects and working to banish the affliction.

“What?! How?” the Alchemist demanded as Elijah pushed himself upright. “You’re not even in your grove...”

“I’m not that kind of Druid,” he said before he swung his scythe. The Alchemist tried to defend himself, but the blade sliced through his upraised arm with ease. Then, it bit into his neck at an angle, cutting through until it hit the spine. There, it got caught – a testament to the elf’s level and, subsequently, his constitution – but by that point, the damage was done.

Breeze staggered backward, tripping over his chair and crashing into a workstation filled with glassware. As he clutched his half-severed neck in a useless effort to staunch the bleeding, he thrust his hand into a small pouch at his belt. A second later, he’d retrieved a vial filled with glowing red liquid.

He raised it, clearly intending to imbibe the contents.

Elijah didn’t allow it. Instead, he cast Storm’s Fury, sending a bolt of lightning to slam into the elf’s chest. His body convulsed, but he maintained a deathgrip on the vial. Elijah took care of that only a second later, when he removed the elf’s hand. It fell to the floor, and the glass receptacle clattered upon impact. The vial must have been high-grade, because it didn’t break. But even as the seizure continued to assail Breeze’s body, the life-giving potion remained out of reach.

Finally, Elijah stepped forward and finished the job.

A surge of experience confirmed that Breeze had achieved a reasonable level, though it wasn’t enough to push Elijah over the next threshold.

He took a breath, knowing he still wasn’t finished.

Breeze might have been the instigator, but he never would have considered attacking the grove a viable idea if it wasn’t for the last person on Elijah’s list.

It was time to show Isaiah the consequences of his actions.