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

Nerthus sat on the branch of the juvenile ancestral tree, basking in the potent life coursing through its limbs. The tree wasn’t nearly as powerful as its forebear, but then again, Nerthus had never expected it to be. It was still young, and it hadn’t been afforded the same opportunities for growth. Even so, it was maturing well, and now that it had finally connected to its progenitor, Nerthus could at last visit it in person.

However, for once, he was less interested in the tree than in the curious creatures scurrying around its base. Nerthus had never had much opportunity to observe other people. Before he’d come to Earth, he had been barely more than a seedling, and his sapience was almost entirely undeveloped. Of his old life, he mostly only remembered emotions. Warmth. Love. Comfort. And of course, safety. He had an image of his progenitors, but it was blurry, and at times, he thought that those memories were a figment of his imagination.

So, everything he’d witnessed since awakening inside the ancestral tree that had brought him to Earth had been new for him. More than four-and-a-half years later, the novelty of it all still hadn’t worn off. From Elijah’s stories, Nerthus knew that the planet was a wild, unforgiving, and violent place. He’d lost count of how many times Elijah had nearly been killed – which would have been a disaster, both emotionally as well as from a practical standpoint. Until now, though, Nerthus had only known peace.

Certainly, there had been the incident with the Voxx surging out of the tower, but Elijah had dealt with that before it had affected Nerthus or the grove. The same was true with the invaders who’d come from Ironshore, intent on either vengeance or greed. So, given that, as well as the fact that he’d spent his pervious years safe in his progenitors’ embrace, Nerthus had lived quite a sheltered life, short though it had been.

Which was why he found the little creatures below him so fascinating.

In most ways, they looked a lot like the dwarves and gnomes who’d skirted the island on their way to the tower. They were tiny, with slightly stubbier proportions and an exuberance for life that surprised Nerthus.

That was on display as they chased one another through the area known as Druid’s Park. They laughed and screamed as they ran among giant mushrooms and the vibrant flora that had grown amidst the ever-increasingly dense ethera surrounding the juvenile tree. At first, Nerthus thought the little creatures were engaged in a battle, and he’d very nearly intervened. After all, the off-shoot of the grove was no place for fighting. Yet, as he watched, he had come to realize that the aim was not to hurt one another. It was a competition, and one whose rules were nebulous at best.

The tiny people shouted at one another, making rules up as they went, and Nerthus found himself smiling at their antics. They were all so innocent, completely unaware of the issues of the wider world. Elijah had given them that. Without him, the entire city would have been overrun with orcs. Or subjected to the dangers of a surging tower. But with his help, they were now safe. The city prospered. And the grove remained safe from outside interference.

As he watched, Nerthus channeled Plant Authority: