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

“Come on! Why can’t I go with you?” demanded Miguel. “You always said that having someone to watch your back is important.”

“This ain’t that kinda city, kid,” Colt said, running his hand through his short hair. He’d had the barber back in Ironshore cut it down to little more than a fringe, which was his preferred style. Easier to handle, that way. “You heard your uncle. It’s ‘bout as safe a spot as there is. ‘sides – you need to venture out on your own a bit. Havin’ me or your uncle hoverin’ over your shoulder won’t do you a bit of good. A boy needs his independence as much as he needs guidance.”

Miguel looked like he was going to argue, but then the boy thought better of it. That was as expected. When Colt had first taken the young man under his wing, he’d been a bit unruly and very undisciplined. But he’d latched onto the structure Colt provided, his grip tightening even more after their exile.

That wasn’t to say that Miguel never acted like the teenage boy he was. He certainly did, and often. But he’d learned that when Colt gave instructions, he expected them to be followed, and without complaint.

“Fine. Whatever,” Miguel said. “Maybe Isaak can show me around.”

“Maybe,” Colt allowed. “But that ain’t much different than havin’ me or your uncle ‘round.”

Miguel glared at him.

Colt didn’t waver, though. “And don’t leave the city.”

“But –”

“No buts, kid. It’s dangerous out there. I heard stories about some kinda maneater from a while back. Nobody ever killed it, either. It ain’t hit nobody in a while, but that don’t mean it ain’t still out there. And somebody like you? Without levels? You make a juicy target for a monster like that.”

“We should go back to the swamp,” Miguel said. His cheeks reddened. “To check on the kids. You know, to make sure they’re okay.”

“The kids, huh.”

“Yeah. I thought we should’ve stayed until they had everything they needed. But Uncle Elijah said that he didn’t want to influence their decision,” the young man persisted. “By now, they had to’ve made a choice, though.”

“That’s the only reason you wanna go? To check on the kids.”

“Uh…no. I think the swamp is…uh…cool. With all the mud and…leeches…”

“Right. Leeches. That’s what all the kids’re into these days, eh?”

“I’m not a kid,” Miguel insisted. “I’ll get my archetype any day now.”

“Well, ‘til you do, you’re a kid,” he said. Then, he shook his head and said, “Now go on. Git. Don’t wanna see you ‘til sunset at least. Go get into some trouble. Have a rock fight. Explore. Just be a kid. You ain’t had much opportunity for that kinda thing since…well, since forever.”

“Fine,” Miguel huffed. “Can I at least take a sword, though?”

“Spear.”

“But I don’t like the spear!”

“That’s all you get ‘til you prove you can handle the sword,” Colt said. In truth, Miguel had progressed exceedingly well with his swordsmanship, but Colt had high standards that the young man had yet to meet.

After that, Miguel only argued for a little longer before taking up the spear they’d brought with them, then leaving the hotel’s common room behind. For his part, Colt glanced at the innkeeper, Agatha, and shrugged, saying, “Kids, right?”

“Don’t have to tell me. My boys were a lot worse. At least he listens.”

“Most of the time,” Colt said with a chuckle as he leaned against the bar. Then, he reached up, intending to tip his hat to the elderly woman, but brought himself up short when he remembered that he still hadn’t replaced the one he’d lost back in Easton. “Say, you don’t know of a decent haberdasher ‘round here, do you?”

“Haberdasher?”

“Hat maker,” Colt explained. He gave her a tight smile, adding, “I seem to’ve misplaced my bonnet.”

She answered, “Old Markakis is your best bet. He’s got a fair few hats. Not sure if he makes them, but he’s a Tailor.”

After she gave him directions, Colt said, “Much obliged, ma’am.”

Then, he left the hotel behind. Vaguely, he was aware of Miguel following him for a bit, but eventually, he left the boy behind. As he walked through the town, Colt was amazed at how normal it all seemed. There were plenty of cultural differences from any other place he’d ever been, but aside from those, it was remarkably similar to his hometown back in Oklahoma. Or, presumably, hundreds of other mid-sized towns throughout the world.

Argos was too big to be considered a town, though. If he’d had to guess, he would have said that it played host to at least a hundred thousand people. Maybe more. That was how most towns were, from what he could tell. Anywhere that offered a modicum of safety attracted refugees like moths to a flame. The settlements that didn’t grow usually ended up getting overrun.

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Colt had seen plenty of evidence of that during their exile. And he suspected that more would fall everyday until everything normalized. But one thing was certain – the world wasn’t getting any safer, and humanity needed to take its own progression seriously or there would be another culling not dissimilar from what had happened directly after Earth experienced the touch of the World Tree.

For his part, Colt was lucky. He’d always been a man of action. As a former soldier, he felt he was well-suited to the new world, and his lifelong fascination with the art of Bushido had served him well with his Warrior archetype and the Samurai class that had followed.

However, he hadn’t had a purpose until he’d reached Easton and found Alyssa. She’d shown him the good people were capable of, and he’d followed her willingly. After her death, he’d pledged himself to Carmen. And now, she’d become something of a little sister to him. After everything they’d experienced together, they were practically family.

But Colt knew that he needed to keep pushing forward. He was just outside the top one-hundred, but that could be said for thousands of people. Maybe tens of thousands. It was especially necessary because, like everyone else, he’d gotten a notification a couple of months before: