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

Frustration stubbornly gripped Elijah’s mind as the landscape surrounding Benediction flashed beneath him. He scarcely paid attention to the terrain. He didn’t appreciate the wildlife or the ruins. Instead, he was wholly focused on his recent meeting with Benedict.

Once again, he’d committed himself to a Primal Realm, and already, his stomach was twisting into knots as he considered what was coming. It reminded him of how he’d felt when he’d gone to job interviews. Or before a big test for which he was only partially prepared. It was like he knew a storm of pain was coming, and yet, he couldn’t avoid it. He didn’t even intend to try.

Like that, he covered the distance to the mountains. Sometimes, it was easy to forget just how large the world was. In Shape of the Sky, he could cruise at speeds comparable to that of airliners. Even so, it took hours to reach the foothills of the mountains north of New York, and he knew it would take almost an entire day to cross them. More than a thousand miles stood between the war elf encampment and the main pass through the mountains. Another few hundred miles further, and there was Kalki.

When Elijah reached the previous location of the Third Army encampment, he found that it had been abandoned. That should not have been surprising, given it had been more than a week since he’d last been there. They were a mobile force, after all. Their whole purpose was to keep moving, to sweep across the world and conquer as much territory as possible.

The mandate from their empire demanded it.

Still, Elijah was more than a little surprised when he followed the trail they’d left in their wake, and it led directly to the Indian city where he’d met Anupriya Pandey. The surly woman hadn’t left the best impression on him, but Elijah didn’t really blame her. Even if the war elves had moved on, hers was a city under siege. They couldn’t afford to be welcoming.

As it turned out, their precautions were necessary, because the war elves had returned. They camped just out of range of the ballistae, their temporary settlement arranged in that same spiral pattern. At least a hundred thousand strong, they waited, besieging the city through their mere presence.

In the center of the camp, Elijah noticed that they were busy constructing some sort of siege engines. The things looked like giant wooden boxes on wheels, though they were clearly built to the same specifications as the walls of Kalki. Meaning they were intended to help the army surmount those walls.

As Elijah circled the encampment from above, he identified a few hard targets he needed to hit if he was going to defeat the army. The first was the most obvious. He needed to do something about those stakes driven into the ground. Removing one or two would do very little, so he reasoned that he would need to take them all out of commission. Doing so would obviously draw a lot of attention, which led him to the second goal – creating chaos. That, in turn, prompted focus on the other two hard targets.

After the stakes, the next was the command tent. Assuredly, it held the army’s decision-makers and, likely, the Tacticians which would empower the entire force. Killing them wasn’t just important. It was necessary.

Then, there were the Healers. Neutralizing them would cripple the army’s sustainability. After that came the Warcallers, which Hak Tar called the backbone of the Third Army. To Elijah, they sounded like a unique class that borrowed abilities from a variety of archetypes. They could heal, though not as well as dedicated Healers. They could enhance troops, though not as well as a Tactician. And they could fight, though not like Warriors. The combination was a group of versatile fighters whose main purpose was to debuff enemies. In that, they were unrivaled.

Elijah knew they would need to die, too. Or at least be distracted. Otherwise, he might find himself weakened enough that he was forced to retreat. Worse, he might actually find himself on even footing with the soldiers, depending on how powerful the Warcallers truly were.

If that happened, Elijah would die. A hundred thousand soldiers – possibly even more, considering he’d not done a proper count – were not to be underestimated. Even with his abilities, they were strong enough to pose a threat. No – he needed to be smart.

Thankfully, he had a plan.

With that in mind, he continued to circle the camp, studying it from above. As he did so, he identified locations that coincided with his intended targets. Then, he firmed his plan in his mind before flying away, descending, and landing amidst the jungle. On foot and in the Shape of the Scourge, he returned to the area surrounding the camp.

Like any army would, they routinely sent out patrols.

Those patrols were the hinge point of his entire plan, so he spent a little time stalking one particular group. As he did so, he once again felt eyes on him. It was just like back in the mountains, though no matter how thoroughly he searched the area, he couldn’t find the owner of that gaze. It was like he was being stalked by a ghost.

Or maybe he was just paranoid. After all, he had every right to be cautious, so it wasn’t out of the question that he’d gone too far in that direction.

Regardless, despite the feeling that he was being watched, he returned to his plan. If he delayed too long, then he’d be forced to wait until the next nightfall. And he had no intention of that.

Soon enough, he selected his target – a four-man patrol that he hoped would satisfy his requirements. They looked strong enough. Regardless, he had selected three other patrols just in case they were necessary.

Then, at last, he struck.

Taking on the Shape of the Master, he hit hard and fast. The first soldier went down, both of his legs severed by the Verdant Fang. He screamed, though Elijah forced himself not to hear it. Instead, he targeted the other three members of the group. They pursued, putting some distance between themselves and the wounded elf.

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That was part of the plan.

Elijah took out the other in similar fashion, though she was durable enough that it took two scythe attacks to get through both legs. It didn’t matter. The others were too frightened and far too terrified to take advantage of the slight delay.

They ran.

Elijah let them get just far enough away before he once again scythed in, severing the third soldier’s legs. The other sped up, sprinting as fast as he could manage. It wasn’t enough, and Elijah treated him to the same attacks he’d used for the others.

He glanced backward. The attack had taken slightly longer than he’d expected, but it was still within acceptable range. The other patrols were still far enough away that they would take a few minutes to respond. By then, Elijah would have enacted the rest of his plan.

To that end, he returned to the first crippled soldier, who he found trying – and failing – to reattach his legs. Without a Healer, it wouldn’t be possible. Even then, it would take a huge outpouring of ethera. But the elf was in shock. He’d clearly never dealt with such an injury.

Elijah shifted into his human form, then cast Nature’s Claim. Even as the spores took hold in the war elf’s body and the resulting fungi started to press against his insides, the soldier let out a pitiful whimper that Elijah studiously ignored. Instead, he was already shifting into the Shape of the Scourge.

He used Spreading Blight as he lightly grazed the elf. He didn’t want him to bleed out, after all. He needed to survive as long as possible.

Once that was done, Elijah shifted back into his human form, grabbed the soldier – who was already on the verge of succumbing to the venom – and heaved him as far as he could.

Elijah wasn’t as accurate as he might have liked, but even with his lack of experience as a missile delivery system, the central command tent was large enough that it was hard to miss.

He didn’t bother watching it sail through the air. Instead, he sprinted to the next soldier, then repeated the actions. Just as he’d planned, they were far enough apart so that Nature’s Claim didn’t automatically spread. If that had happened, it would have diluted the effect, not to mention that it might have thrown off the timing. Elijah needed them to live long enough to become instruments of biological warfare.

Two more times after that, he revisited his planned actions. In all it had only taken about two minutes until the bodies had been sent back to where they’d originated. In that time, chaos had erupted within the encampment. Tents had collapsed, and Elijah could feel a steady stream of experience as his enemies died.

It wasn’t enough, though. Soon enough, the Healers and Warcallers would counter the spread. They doubtless had the ability to mitigate it, at least to some degree. So, Elijah needed to keep up the pressure.

Thankfully, that was when the second patrol arrived, and he treated them much the same as their colleagues. This time, there were five, though that didn’t matter much to Elijah. He sent them sailing into the camp – targeting his previously established locations – and sowing even more chaos.

The third patrol found much the same fate.

By that point, disease had spread across whole sections of the camp. It wouldn’t kill them off, but he’d never expected it to do more than sow chaos. In that endeavor, it was entirely successful, giving Elijah the cover he needed to enact the next part of his plan – dealing with the stakes.

With that in mind, he shifted into the Shape of the Master, then sprinted toward the first one. Once reaching it, he used his Mantle of Authority to disable it, then plucked the thing from the earth. Immediately, he dismissed it into his Arcane Loop. Thankfully, the stakes were small enough that they wouldn’t require much space.

He didn’t hesitate before rushing to the next stake. Then the next. And the next after that. Maintaining his Mantle of Authority was taxing, and rapidly shifting from one form to the next – while using and reusing abilities in quick succession – had dwindled his reserves. Fortunately, he had quite a lot of ethera at his disposal, so he didn’t start to feel the strain until he was halfway around the encampment.

That was when the response came.

More than a hundred fighters descended upon him, and judging from the way they moved, they had the benefit of a Tactician among them. There were also a few Healers. And more importantly, a Warcaller.

Elijah suspected he’d diminished their numbers by a significant degree, but there were still a few left. Obviously. And this one looked imposing. Like all war elves, he was broadly built, with shoulders that any NBA player would look upon with envy. What was visible of his skin looked almost desaturated – evidence of orcish heritage that had given rise to the race of war elves.

His armor was functional but unadorned, though the flanged, two-handed mace he carried glistened with so much ethera that Elijah wondered if it wasn’t on the same tier as his own Verdant Fang.

The Warcaller shouted something Elijah didn’t hear, preceding a shockwave of ethera that slammed into him. Immediately, he felt his attributes dwindle, and by no small degree. It was enough to mitigate the benefits of his current form – the Shape of the Master – though he was thankful that it hadn’t gone much further.

Then another Warcaller showed herself. She could have been a slightly more feminine twin of the other, and when she shouted, another wave of ethera smashed into Elijah. His attributes dipped even further.

And his heart jumped into his throat.

They stacked.

That was the distressing thought that flitted through his mind just before he sliced through the first ranks. Aside from a scything attack that severed a few arms, he didn’t bother with the rank-and-file soldiers. Instead, he targeted the Warcallers. Fortunately, he built up a few stacks of his Heart of Fire along the way, so when he reached the two elves – both of whom continued to shout, spittle flying from their mouths as they swung their maces at him – he opened his mouth and unleashed Incenerate.

The wave of fire, dense and unyielding, swept over the two Warcallers. Elijah felt a stream of experience flow into him, but he knew – via Soul of the Wild – that he hadn’t killed his true targets. Rather, the experience came from the nearby soldiers.

When the fire winked out, he saw that the pair of Warcallers hadn’t escaped the effects of Incinerate unscathed. Indeed, they’d been cooked alive inside their armor, and though they were clearly on their last legs, they had never stopped screaming.

And to his horror, Elijah saw their cracked and blistered flesh flake away, revealing new and healthy skin. There was a Healer nearby, and they were pumping great torrents of ethera into keeping the Warcallers alive.

Elijah ended that with a swipe of his scythe.

Two Warcaller heads fell free, and the debuffs faded away. After that, he found the Healers, treating them much the same. Along the way, he continued to build more instances of Heart of Fire as he dodged one attack after another. With his normal attributes – and the increased reflexes that came from the cindrandir form – he had no issues dodging the normal soldiers’ attacks.

And soon enough, he’d killed them all.

With that done, he returned to his task and continued to pluck the stakes from the ground. All the while, he kept his eyes on the encampment, just in case another response team came at him. They didn’t. However, order was established, and they mustered into ranks in an effort to defend against the attack.

Even as Elijah finished retrieving the stakes, he saw their defensive line solidify. If he wanted to finish them off, he’d need to fight a pitched battle. The Third Army clearly thought they’d gotten through the worst of it and were ready for what was coming.

They were not.