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

Elijah’s fingers danced along Sadie’s bare shoulder, but as distracting as she was, his attention fell squarely on external factors. Specifically, concerning his immediate future. He had spent the past few weeks mentally preparing to assault the troll Primal Realm, and now that eventuality had been denied him. His presence wasn’t just unnecessary. It would be detrimental.

In short, he felt unwanted.

And given that normally, it seemed that he was being pulled in a hundred different directions, those feelings were both novel and frustrating.

“Are you still feeling sorry for yourself?” Sadie asked, her hazel eyes flicking open.

“No,” he lied. Had she gained an ability that allowed her to read minds? No. She just knew him, and probably better than he knew himself. “I’m fine. Just not thrilled about leaving you down here by yourself.”

“There are nearly ten thousand people with me. I’m hardly alone.”

Elijah had been a little surprised to learn that both Svetogorsk and the guilds had more than come through with their promised support. The number of soldiers in Sadie’s army had swelled to nearly double the initial estimates. Cynically, Elijah considered that was probably less about the need to combat the Primal Realm and more because those organizations saw an opportunity for growth.

The trolls were great for grinding, after all.

Even Elijah had made some gains, and his requirements were much higher than anyone else’s.

It was also a reminder that he couldn’t afford to wallow in his own self-pity or loneliness. Instead, he needed to get to work, lest he lose the lead he’d worked so hard to create. He knew the rest of the world would have a long way to go if they wanted to catch him in terms of cultivation, but he was also aware of just how quickly people could rack up levels. In addition, there was the issue of his archetype, which was powerful but unfocused. He’d spent most of his choices to rectify its non-combat theme, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked.

Elijah rolled over onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Not really,” he said. Of course, Sadie had noticed when he’d arrived with much denser cloud of sin around him. And she knew precisely what that meant. He’d killed a lot of people since they were last together. Her skill didn’t really differentiate between justified and unjustified, either, and it had taken the whole of her mind cultivation to deal with the skill.

She draped her arm over his chest, not even flinching when she brushed against his scales as she pulled herself closer. “I’m not talking about war,” she pointed out. “I’m talking about your cultivation. The thing with your sister.”

He’d given her a rundown of his process, as much to unburden himself as to give her some tips for when she reached that point. But he’d done so in a passionless tone, almost like he was giving a lecture. None of his emotions had leaked out. Sadie just knew him well enough to recognize how seeing his sister – even as a figment of his imagination – had affected him.

That seemed to be the theme of their relationship.

“I don’t know what to say. It was like seeing her again,” he admitted. “But it wasn’t really her. It’s like a really clear dream, you know? I know it isn’t real, but that doesn’t matter. Not where it counts.”

Elijah had dealt with his trauma, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still affect him. The best he could manage was keeping it from driving his every decision. That was why he’d spent so long shoving it into its own facet. But now? It was like an echo of that pain remained. An emotional soreness that no amount of stretching could remedy. Only time could grant him some measure relief.

And it hadn’t been long enough for that to happen.

“I’m here for you,” she said. “You know that, don’t you? Even if we have to communicate through the Branch, it can help.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Use it like a diary.”

“Or like those old Civil War letters?” he asked, cracking a small smile. He adopted a cultured accent, saying, “I pray this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I plan to march into what they call a Primal Realm, and I confess, it chills me to the marrow. The very air trembles, and the air hums with the whispers of forgotten beasts. Yet, I press –”

A playful slap to his bare chest, followed by a giggle, cut him off. “Stop it. Primal Realms are no joking matter.”

“My courage shall not wane, for it draws its power not from steel or spell, but from the memory of your touch and the warmth of your enduring love,” he intoned seriously.

“Stop it,” she repeated, though Elijah heard the smile in her voice. A quick glance to the side told him that she found his performance at least a little amusing. So, he kept going, recounting some of his adventures in the same tone.

But eventually, he let it fall away, saying, “Seriously though. I’m fine. I feel better than I have in years. And I understand the reasoning here. Nobody can advance if I hog all the experience. And if I don’t, I stand a chance of falling behind. So I need to go off and play by myself.”

“You could take Oscar.”

Elijah shook his head. “I think him being around other people is good for him,” he said. “Just…”

“What?”

“Take care of them, okay? Oscar. Kurik. Miguel. Ron. All of them. The world can’t afford to lose them,” he said.

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“The world? Or you?”

“Both? Don’t tell Kurik, though. He’ll get a big head.”

She let out another giggle, and for the next couple of hours, they just enjoyed one another’s company. However, their responsibilities wouldn’t wait for them to spend another couple of days on holiday. So, they were inevitably forced to part ways. After an ardent goodbye, Sadie set off for the frontier, while Elijah gathered his things for his own departure.

His first stop was the grove, where he wanted to at least show his face so his new members understood that he wasn’t the absentee leader he’d been labeled. But before that, he needed to engage in a bit of diplomacy. This time, his meeting with the empress was one steeped in formality, and as such, nothing of note was said. The show of cooperation was important though, and not just for the people of Eldrathûn. They needed to know they weren’t alone, that the most powerful man in the world hadn’t chosen to ignore their plight.

Of course, that was precisely what he was doing. His abandonment of the Hollow Depths was strategic, and though he accepted that it was necessary, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

In any case, he played the role he was meant to play, which involved quite a lot of standing there and looking strong while the empress addressed the upper crust of her people. And when it was all over, he assured her that he would come if needed. At last, he teleported back to his grove, thankful that he wasn’t expected to engage in politics very often.

As far as he was concerned, it was all useless posturing. Nothing really came of any of it.

But all that faded away when he arrived in the center of the grove. While away, he’d been keeping tabs on everything, but seeing it in person was very different than focusing on his locus. And he was more than a little glad to be home.

He took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air as he closed his eyes and basked in the atmosphere. The weather had turned, and winter was right around the corner. He could practically taste the frost on the subtle breeze.

“You are back,” came Nerthus’ voice.

“I am. How are things?” Elijah asked, turning to face his friend. “I’ve noticed the pillar trees are growing well.”

“They are. I expect it will be at least a year or two before we can expand the settlement,” the spryggent said. Nerthus looked much the same as he had when Elijah left, though he’d obviously gained a level or two. It seemed that the expansion of the grove’s membership was a good way to advance.

“How is everyone? Settling in?” he asked.

Nerthus took that opportunity to give Elijah a thorough rundown of everything that had happened since his departure. Despite the fact that he’d been gone for less than two months – by his count – much had changed. The sea elves had taken to the grove like they’d been born to it, which probably wasn’t far from the truth of their origin. Most worked on or around the coast, helping Nara cultivate her nascent coral reef.

“Some of the non-combatants seek to change their fate,” Nerthus stated. “They are training with the army in Ironshore, hoping to choose a hybrid class when they are given the opportunity to evolve.”

“Is that smart?” Elijah asked. It wasn’t so different from his own path, but the Druid archetype had always had at least a little combat potential. A Tradesman or a Scholar was in a very different situation.

“They are a broken people,” Nerthus answered. “They mistakenly trusted the world to let them live in peace. Their naivete was rewarded with pain and suffering. It is natural that they wish to prevent that.”

“I thought that was why they joined the grove.”

“That is true, but it is not the whole truth. They need to be able to protect themselves. They have taken those matters into their own hands.”

“Will they be successful?”

“Who can know? It is necessary, though,” Nerthus allowed. “There is also a celebration tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“Can you not feel it?”

Elijah opened his mouth to respond, but then chose otherwise. Instead, he focused on the cluster of leaves that represented his expanded locus. At first, it was a little overwhelming, largely because of its increased size. Hundreds of square miles of territory, and he could feel every last leaf. Every animal. Every bacterium. But with his improved mind cultivation, he managed to wrangle that feeling into submission.

It only took a second, but it was a reminder that he still had a long way to go before he’d completely adjusted to the new paradigm. One more item to add to his to-do list.

In any case, it only took him a few moments to drill down to his awareness of the members of the grove. As always, Miguel glowed the brightest, followed by Nerthus, then Nara. The others were so dim as to barely be noticeable. However, there was one other that seemed only a shade brighter than the rest of the bunch.

“Rosabella got her class!”

“Indeed. It happened this morning while she was fighting near Argos. There was a low-level infestation of beetles. Too weak to attract true adventurers, but too strong for non-combat fighters to repel. She and a few others from Ironshore went there on a training expedition,” Nerthus explained. “Once the threat was contained, she returned via the Conclave Spires and went straight to the Branch, where she chose her class.”

“What did she pick?” he asked. He knew she had chosen the Warrior archetype, but given her attainments in cultivation, he expected her class to be special.

“I will let her tell you.”

Elijah frowned. “You’re no fun at all.”

Then, he threw himself skyward, but instead of using Shape of the Sky, he simply activated Cloud Step, then threw himself from the air-wrought edifice with as much strength as he could muster. He sailed over the top of the surrounding forest, then skipped off another Cloud Step. That was all it took to reach his destination, which was one of the beaches, where Rosabella was leading the other children in a jog around the island.

One of the crabs skittered awkwardly beside her.

Elijah landed in front of them, kicking up a cloud of gravel and sand.

The kids skidded to a stop, but the idiot crab just kept going. Elijah ignored it, focusing instead on the little gnome girl. He knelt in front of her and said, “I hear you reached a milestone. You get a good class?”

Her normally serious face broke into a broad smile, and she said, “It’s so good.”

Then, she told him the name, flowing right into its description. Before she’d said two sentences, Elijah was smiling right along with her.

Not at the class name. Hartwood Sentry was clearly named after his grove, which in turn, bore his surname. Elijah couldn’t help but cringe a bit every time he heard that, but the system clearly hadn’t taken his opinion into account when it had chosen to name the grove.

In any case, he’d mostly just accepted that he couldn’t change it. He was far more interested in the nature of Rosabella’s class, which seemed very similar to Miguel’s. Not an out-and-out copy, but a lower-tier class meant to work closely with the young Knight of the Hartwood. The description gave hints of alliances with powerful guardians, as well. However, what Elijah liked most of all about it was that it wasn’t wholly reliant on combat for experience.

Elijah had done a little research into other classes – at least as far as he could afford – and he’d discovered that, among others, there existed a sub-type of combat classes that didn’t necessarily rely on killing in order to gain experience. Most prominent among those were Guards and Sentries, who were expected to progress by doing their jobs. That meant that they got a trickle of experience from guarding and policing their chosen areas.

Following from that, Rosabella should be able to progress perfectly well by simply guarding the grove. Which was quite a relief to Elijah, who only wanted the newest members of his grove to be safe.

In the end, he didn’t think there could have been a better class for the little gnome girl, and judging by her expressions as she excitedly told him about it, Rosabella didn’t either. And more than anything else, her happiness was worth more than anything else to Elijah.