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

While trekking across the Painted Wastes, Elijah was surprised at how far the influence of the dragon Primal Realm had stretched. Its effect spread for more than a thousand miles in every direction, and the wasps ranged even further. After all, he’d run into them in the ash cloud over Rubibi, and he expected that some even flew further out to sea.

But the influence of the troll Primal Realm was even wider. Sometimes, it felt like the entirety of the Hollow Depths had been infected with blood-tinged ethera. Elijah was well aware that impression was inaccurate. It just seemed like it because, to reach the Primal Realm, he and the army were forced to ascend, descend, and backtrack multiple times.

It truly felt like they were taking one step forward only to take two steps – or sometimes more – back. And every mile felt like it was contested. Sometimes, their way was barred by one troll army or another, but other times, they were forced to fend off the local wildlife. Elijah might’ve been able to travel through the wilderness mostly unmolested, but the same could not be said for the bulk of the army.

They had to fight for every single step they took.

The initial push hadn’t stalled for almost three weeks, and in that time, they killed countless trolls. The benefits were obvious. According to Sadie, the average level in the army had risen by nearly ten. And there were no signs that it was going to slow down anytime soon. Even the more powerful among them had seen benefits – none more so than Kurik, whose class was tailor-made to kill vast quantities of enemies.

Others, like Miguel and Carmen, had made huge strides as well.

Even Sadie had gained almost five levels, and she was getting closer to level two-hundred with every passing day.

Of course, Elijah hadn’t come away empty handed. He’d pushed all the way to two-twenty-four, where his progress had stalled. He suspected he’d need to kill millions of trolls to continue his advancement.

For that reason, he was eager to reach their destination.

By now, he’d internalized the mission, accepting, if not embracing, it as the most viable course. That had led him to think of what lay in his future. Inevitably, he’d confirmed his decision to hit the Broken Crown rather than help Benedict in the Labyrinth of Dead Gods. Partly, because he thought of the former as his birthright. But mostly because he didn’t think anyone else stood a chance.

There was no way that Seattle’s people could even reach it. And if they did? It would chew them up and spit them out the other side. Elijah knew that down to his core, and that wasn’t just his draconic instincts speaking.

He’d say the same about the djinn Primal Realm. That squad he’d met before reaching the Painted Wastes wasn’t weak, but they definitely weren’t strong enough to combat a Primal Realm.

In Elijah’s mind, only he could make that claim.

And he desperately wanted to get started. He knew he was in for a ton of suffering. Plenty of pain. Hardship as well. But once he’d committed to that course, he pushed the resultant fear away and focused on what mattered. And he had to admit that there was a part of him that felt a twinge of excitement. Doubtless, he’d gain plenty of levels. And he stood a good chance of seeing some things no one else would get the chance to see. That was enough to keep his misgivings at bay.

Those thoughts – and many more – accompanied him as he returned to the army’s latest encampment. They’d initially thought to keep moving, but as enduring as the army was, they were not equipped to keep going for nearly eleven weeks. They had been forced to stop after the third week, and after recognizing the necessity, Sadie had instituted a new rule that would see them resting at least once a week.

That was the schedule they’d followed since. More or less. At times, they’d been forced by circumstances to delay the rest days, but there were enough smart people in the army’s Administrators to keep the schedule intact.

As he entered the camp, he lamented the stares that followed him. By that point, everyone there had seen what he could do. They had watched as trolls practically melted from his afflictions, and they had borne witness to him ripping trolls apart like they were nothing. They had even seen him activate Domain of Vines.

And from those experiences flowed a mixture of awe, fear, and respect that set him apart from everyone else. Even Sadie, who was known among the soldiers as the Angel of Death, didn’t make them as uneasy as Elijah. He’d also gained something of a fan club – people who practically worshipped like he was their favorite football star. Thankfully, they kept a respectful distance. Even they weren’t immune to fear, it seemed.

At first, he’d tried to bridge that gap by acting like one of the normal soldiers. It hadn’t worked, cementing his status as something outside of the army’s normal structure. Someone too powerful to contain.

Someone who could kill everyone there without issue.

Elijah wanted to point out that he’d have trouble putting people like Sadie, Oscar, and Ivin down – all three were powerful in their own right – but he didn’t think that would help with the rank-and-file soldiers.

As Sadie had told him, it was one thing to know he was the most powerful man on the planet, but it was something else entirely to see him in action.

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By now, he didn’t even slow his gait as he entered the camp, which was just as organized as it had been when he’d first joined the army. The only difference was that the fortifications weren’t nearly as extensive, though they’d maintained the defenses far better than he might have expected. Apparently, they carried the palisade with them when they moved, and everyone had to take a turn digging the ditches.

It was a good system, and one that had protected them on more than one occasion. The first had been a surge of blood beasts that would’ve overwhelmed the camp if it hadn’t been for that ditch. With it – along with Kurik’s traps at the bottom – the blood beasts were no more than a nuisance.

Some of the elves gave him nods of respect as he headed toward Sadie’s tent. Elijah hated that almost as much as the fear radiating from the others. But he ignored that, too.

Soon enough, he reached her tent and ducked inside.

Immediately, Sadie reminded him that he was covered in troll viscera, so he made a quick about-face and headed to the tent designated for the showers. Inside were dozens of soldiers. Some joked with their fellows, but they all studiously ignored Elijah as he undressed and stepped under one of the enchanted streams of cold water.

Over the next few minutes, he thoroughly scrubbed himself, then started in on his armor, which he’d doused with cleansing powder. Some of the stubborn bits of gore refused to be dislodged via powder alone, so he was forced to attack it with copious amounts of elbow grease.

So it happened that, half an hour later, Elijah reentered the tent, fresh and clean and wearing what he thought of as his civilian clothes. “Better?” he asked, turning a slow circle so she could get a good look.

From behind her camp desk, Sadie gave a sniff.

“Acceptable,” she acknowledged without looking up. Dozens of maps lay scattered across its surface, evidence that even if everyone else was resting, Sadie was still hard at work.

“Did you sleep?”

She didn’t answer, which was an answer in and of itself. For all that she’d taken the burden of leading the army upon herself, Sadie clearly hated it. She was good at it, but like Elijah himself, she would have preferred that her decisions only really affected herself. That did not mean that she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. She already had, and it was obvious that she would continue to do so as long as it was necessary.

But it took its toll.

Largely, in that Sadie had always been a perfectionist. Even when it was only her own life she had to worry about, that nature still affected her. It was even worse when thousands of lives hung on her every decision. As a result, she’d doubled down on her perfectionism, checking and rechecking everything to ensure that she’d accounted for each and every outcome.

That wasn’t possible, though, and every time they hit an unexpected bump in the road, she reacted poorly. Usually by beating herself up, followed by a resolution to work even harder.

It wasn’t healthy.

But with so many lives on the line, Elijah couldn’t really see another alternative. It was especially bad when they lost people. A rational person would acknowledge that they were at war, and that meant that people would inevitably die. But reason never really came into her self-recriminations. She wanted every single person to survive, and when they didn’t, she blamed herself.

At first, Elijah had tried to help. He’d offered comfort. He’d attempted to explain things in an effort to make her understand that none of those deaths were her fault. It hadn’t worked, though.

So now, he just said, “You’re working yourself too hard. You need rest, Sadie. You probably haven’t even eaten, have you?”

She held up a plate of food. Maybe two bites had been taken from the burrito-like thing in the center of the plate, and the rice had barely even been touched. Pointedly, she never looked up from the maps and reports.

“Sadie.”

“What, Elijah?” she asked, finally raising her head.

“Give me thirty minutes,” he said. “Have dinner with me. A real, hot meal. Not rations.”

She objected, because of course she did. But in the end, Elijah’s reason won out. She had to eat. That was obvious. And it was easier for her to acquiesce than to argue with him. Probably more time efficient, too.

She ate a vegetarian meal that was part of a set Elijah had commissioned just for her. She would eat meat, but she preferred otherwise. For his part, he ate a giant whale steak slathered in some kind of compound butter.

“I’ll never get over how much this tastes like beef,” he said after swallowing the last bite.

“I’d think that as an environmentalist, you would have decided issues with whaling.”

“If this was in the old world, you’d be right,” Elijah said. “But I’ve been out there. Those whales can give as good as they get. Plus, people have to eat. And besides, Ramik keeps the whalers on a tight leash. They know better than to overfish.”

“If you say so,” she said before adopting a faraway look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Time,” she admitted. “We’re going too slow. We needed to be in the Primal Realm weeks ago.”

“We can’t go any faster. Not and keep people on their feet.”

“I know that.”

“I think we’re close,” he said in an attempt to mollify her. “You feel it too, right?”

“Not as well as you do,” she admitted. “But yes. Even I can feel it. It’s like walking through a charnel house. The smell…”

Elijah understood that, though he’d have characterized it differently. As disgusting as that could be – as evidenced by his recent experiences in Rubibi – the fact was that Elijah had absolutely zero problem with killing animals for food. Maybe that made him a bad Druid, but he rationalized his position by remembering that every single predator on Earth would do the same thing. If anything, his willingness to give in to that instinct made his views more acceptable.

Or maybe it was all just an excuse so he could eat what he wanted without feeling guilty.

Regardless, the rest of the meal passed without incident. Afterward, Sadie went to the command tent to deal with all the issues that came with running the army, and Elijah took the opportunity to get a little rest. It had been weeks since he last slept, and it had begun to affect him.

The next day, the cycle continued. Elijah spent most of his time scouting with the Explorers, but there were times when he ranged far ahead and took care of dangers before they could affect the army. That was the best way to keep them on schedule.

And then, at last, he saw it.

The second he entered the chamber, he knew he’d found the entrance to the Primal Realm. Part of that was the distinct spike in the local ethera density, but mostly, it was the enormous troll standing in front of a jagged, onyx spire.

After studying it for only a few minutes, he decided to retreat. He didn’t dare get much closer. After all, he’d once been dragged into one Primal Realm against his will, and he had no interest in repeating that experience. Besides, he wanted to deliver the good news to Sadie.

So, he set off to reunite with the camp, knowing that his time with the army would soon come to an end. After that, they’d be on their own. And he’d need to confront his draconic nature by entering the Broken Crown.