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

“Can I help you, friend?” asked the man leaning against the door frame in the back of the shop. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Thor, with a slender waist and wide shoulders. It was the build of a Warrior, yet Thor suspected that the man was no true fighter. However, there was a sense of menace about him that made Thor hesitate to force anything.

“I seek a Druid,” Thor stated.

“I’m an arm’s dealer, not a rumormonger,” he stated. “You want weapons? I’m your man. I even a few pieces of decent armor. Our adventuring team recently completed a run of the tower, so –”

“I don’t need your trinkets.”

“Ah, see – that’s where you’re wrong, friend. Everyone can use a solid weapon. Sure, you’ve got that spear. Nice weapon. Probably suits you quite well. But everyone can use a backup, right? And a big fellow like you? With those arms? You seem like an axe-man,” the merchant said. “I can –”

“Enough of your babble!” Thor growled, his fingers tightening on the haft of his spear. “Tell me about the Druid.”

“You should watch your tone, friend,” the arms dealer said, his demeanor shifting. “You’re number three on the list, but how do you think you’d fare against an entire city? We only have one person on the power rankings, but I can tell you right now – you cause trouble in Argos, and you’ll not leave here alive.”

At that moment, Thor sensed something strange. A weakness he couldn’t explain.

“What did you do?” he demanded, stepping forward. His legs wobbled, and as a result, he nearly stumbled. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Atticus, friend,” the merchant said, stepping forward. There was no kindness in his voice. “And in here, I’m basically a god. Zeus himself could walk in here, and he would tremble at my wrath.”

“You’re only level thirty…”

“You don’t deal with many merchants, do you?” asked Atticus, approaching a glass case containing a golden short sword. His hand passed right through the glass pane, and he withdrew the weapon with nonchalance bordering on dismissiveness. Then, he pointed the weapon at Thor. “Now, are you going to be a good boy while in my town? Or am I going to have to show you why nobody messes with a merchant in his own shop? Your choice, big guy.”

Thor wanted nothing more than to put the man in his place. Yet, he knew better than to fight a battle he didn’t understand. That was underscored when his mind flicked to his status: