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

The portal shimmered with barely-contained heat as a snake-like demon slithered around Benedict’s arm. It left tiny scorch marks on his bare skin, but otherwise, its control was phenomenal. Much better than imps, which were uniformly unrestrained and difficult to manipulate properly. Most of the time, it was better to simply point them in the right direction and let them foster their brand of chaos.

The hell wyrm was much better, though it strained his attributes to keep it summoned for more than a few minutes. Not surprising, considering that it was a much higher-grade demon than he usually summoned. That didn’t really transfer to power, though. If he wanted that, he would re-summon one of the knights.

While Vesimath had perished in the Labyrinth of Dead Gods, there were plenty more just like him. In fact, there were whole legions comprised of the black knights.

But Benedict wanted something more. He wanted better control. More ethera. Portals to new and novel dimensions. He already had access to creatures from most of the nine realms – and even some who were confined to their own, odd dimensions that fell outside those parameters – but it still wasn’t enough.

In short, he needed more power.

Idly, he reached out to the portal, but when his hand drew closer, it found an invisible wall he couldn’t bypass. So had it always been. He could drag things through from the other side, but he couldn’t enter the dimensions he accessed through his rituals.

For months, he’d tried to change that. He’d spent countless hours altering the ritual circles. He’d even created a series of new glyphs. But he’d yet to find any means to bypass that restriction.

Most of the time, the ritual simply refused to activate. And in some cases, they’d blown up in his face. Fortunately, he had Dimensional Shield to protect him from that backlash.

“I wish Hu Shui was here,” he groaned aloud, though no one was there to hear him. Jasai’i was engaged in her duties to the town – she was a Scholar by archetype and an Archivist by class, and she spent most of her time managing Dravkein’s library.

When she wasn’t with Benedict, that was.

Over the last few months since Elijah’s departure, Benedict’s relationship with Jasai’i had progressed quite rapidly. When she looked at him, she didn’t see the weak man he’d been before the world’s transformation. She didn’t note the odd style he’d adopted. Nor did she recoil at the nature of his power.

Instead, she accepted him as he was. She understood the need for sacrifice – both in literal and figurative terms. And most of all, she enjoyed his company. They’d spent long hours bonding over a shared fondness of romance stories, which seemed a universally beloved subject.

And that had led them to deeper conversations about life, philosophy, and everything else. More than anything, though, they bonded over the trauma of their pasts. Jasai’i’s life hadn’t been easy, not least because she was stranded on an excised world without hope of escape. In addition, she was something of a tolerated outcast. They didn’t shun her – not outright – but they didn’t really accept her, either.

Benedict sympathized.

What’s more, as the days had worn on, he’d found himself craving her company in a way he never expected to experience. It was one thing to read about love and accept that it existed, but it was something else altogether to feel it growing in your own heart.

And for the first time since childhood, Benedict felt true happiness.

But even more than that, he felt something – ephemeral and unseen – poised above him, ready to snatch it away. His every past experience told him that his dread was genuine and warranted, that something terrible was coming. And he needed to be strong enough to stop it, powerful enough to hold on to the life he’d begun to build.

Was the danger real?

He had no idea.

However, he’d long since decided to treat it as such. Thus, the constant study of his ritual circles. The exploration of new dimensions in the hopes of finding some hint that might enable him to preserve what he cherished most.

Doing so also had the side benefit of pushing him forward in terms of experience. He still had a long way to go – six more levels – before he’d reached the pinnacle of ascendency. That was where his journey would end, though. Because there was no way those in charge of Ithalon would ever allow someone like him to use their Branch.

He was an outsider, but more importantly, he had too much power. If he was allowed to progress, he might threaten their hard-won hegemony. They would never permit that.

Maybe Elijah would have some luck where Benedict surely would not. He was better with people, after all. Perhaps they would welcome him with open arms.

Then again, it was more likely to end in a fight than anything else. If that happened, his longtime traveling companion would certainly die. As powerful as Elijah was, there was no way he could stand against nine peak demi-gods. That was the nature of progression. It was possible to jump stages and fight people who’d bypassed you. However, there inevitably came a point where sheer attributes and the potency of evolved abilities would outpace cultivation and skill.

No – there was a good chance that Elijah had gone to Ithalon to die.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

And while Benedict would grieve his passing, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Knowing that the Synod, who everyone acknowledged were the most powerful people in the world, were still demi-gods did bring to mind plenty of questions, though. If they’d reached the peak of that stage, then why hadn’t they taken the first steps into deification?

When he’d asked Jasai’i, she’d had no answer, save to say that if they could acquire more power, they would have. Among the people of Dravkein, the Synod did not enjoy a positive reputation. Not surprising, considering that most of them were descended from people who’d risked everything to flee their despotic rule.

Briefly, he considered the chain of events that had led to the world’s excisement. He wanted to believe that Earth wouldn’t succumb to such stupidity, but he’d already seen plenty of evidence to the contrary. They spent more time jockeying for power than they did trying to preserve the planet.

Ever had that been the case.

And by the time everyone realized their error, it would be too late.

The passage of time was difficult to gauge on Gorveth, and it had been even worse in the Labyrinth of Dead Gods. But Benedict estimated that Earth only had weeks left before the deadline.

Maybe it had already passed.

For all he knew, the planet had long since been excised. And he knew for a fact that no one on Earth, save for Hu Shui, possessed the expertise to potentially replicate the feat of Gorveth’s natives.

And he might’ve died in the Primal Realm.

Elijah had seemed confident that that wasn’t the case, but the Druid was always confident. He didn’t doubt himself, and when he claimed something – anything – he did so with his whole heart.

Benedict envied that.

And he dreaded the arrogance required to reach that state.

In any case, there was a very good chance that Earth had already met its fate. Oddly, Benedict mourned the inevitable loss. Humanity had never given him much. He’d endured so much unnecessary pain, all because his people couldn’t accept his differences. And yet, he didn’t take pleasure in their extinction.

If he could have, he would have saved them.

Yet, he lacked the power. And what’s more, he’d found a better place. That it lay in the midst of so much desolation was both ironic and appropriate.

With a gesture, he closed the flickering portal, then rose to his feet. Soon, Jasai’i would return, and then, they could lose themselves in one another’s company. In her presence, it was difficult to remember all the horribleness of the world. All the death, destruction, and selfishness just faded into the background, banished to the shadows by the light of her life.

As he considered that, Benedict couldn’t help but smile.

With that in mind, he strode from the home he shared with Jasai’i and toward the market. He was a poor cook, so he couldn’t prepare a meal for her. What he could do was go to her favorite restaurant and purchase her preferred cuisine. He set out, hoping he could find something appropriate.

That wasn’t always the case. The Farmers grew their crops in cycles, so availability was always an issue. Couple that with their dependence on hunting, and they might go months without the appropriate ingredients.

More than once, Benedict had considered setting out on his own and hunting something himself. He now possessed one of the purification crystals, which he wore around his neck, so he could survive the corrosive atmosphere outside the rings. Yet, he’d so far decided against such an excursion.

He told himself that it was because he was no hunter, but in reality, he stayed because he was afraid of revisiting the weakened state that had accompanied him across the face of Gorveth. It had nearly broken him. Before reaching Dravkein, he had considered giving up. He’d stood poised at the edge of the tent’s protective embrace, ready to take that next step.

A part of him had wanted it.

He’d even convinced himself that it was a noble sacrifice. Without the need to carry him, Elijah could focus on his own survival.

In the end, he’d been too much of a coward to go down that road. With the benefit of hindsight, he was grateful for his own fear. But its mere memory remained a crippling detriment.

A deformity no different from the tentacles adorning so many of the natives’ bodies. Or the extra limbs. The additional eyes. The black, rubbery skin so common amongst the hunters.

The abyss left its mark on everyone.

In Benedict’s case, it just wasn’t outwardly visible.

The only exception was Elijah, who seemed entirely at home among the corruption. Not because he’d adapted to it. Rather, because he was just too vital to corrode. He was like a massive tree standing sentry in the midst of a hurricane. His branches might break. His leaves might be torn away. But he remained firmly rooted and unmoving.

Benedict could scarcely comprehend the willpower necessary to personify such a vision.

Lost in thought, he almost missed the commotion, but Dravkein was small enough that any disturbance would be noticed. Especially near the farms. The rings kept most monsters at bay, but on occasion, they still ventured close enough to threaten the crops. When that happened, everyone in the city was expected to respond.

Even a newcomer like Benedict.

He turned away from the market and raced across the town, leaping over the low wall that separated the settlement from the farms. That was when he saw something he never really expected to see again.

Elijah strode among the crops.

It had been months since his departure, and in that time, he’d obviously been through a lot. His clothes were torn, his shoulders slumped, and his gait was that of an exhausted man.

But even from a distance, he still seemed stronger than ever before.

Had he done it?

Had he managed to access the Branch and reach the demi-god tier? If that was the case, then Benedict was very much disappointed. Elijah was stronger. More solid. The turf beneath his feet depressed a couple of inches with every step, suggesting that he even weighed more.

It didn’t seem like the power of a demi-god, though.

Benedict did not possess a physical archetype or class, but he still managed to outpace the others. So, he was the first to reach Elijah.

“Did you do it?” he asked.

Elijah blinked. “You look good. Healthy. Town life seems to have treated you well.”

“Answer the question, Elijah.”

“Oh. No. I mean, yes. I accessed the Branch, but it didn’t work. Sort of. It’s a long story,” Elijah said. Then, he grinned. “I might be persuaded to tell the whole thing over a meal…”

Benedict chuckled. “Always thinking with your stomach.”

Then, he nearly recoiled when Elijah reached out to grip his shoulder. “It passed. You know that, don’t you? Either they conquered the remaining Primal Realms, or Earth has been excised.”

“I…I thought…I hoped we still had some time.”

Elijah shook his head. “No. We failed. Hopefully, someone else stepped up in our absence.”

“Can you feel your grove?”

“No. Echoes, maybe. Like a flickering shadow seen from a mile away. I don’t trust that it’s not just a figment of my imagination,” he admitted. It was the same way he’d described it since they’d been stranded on the excised world. “For all I know, we’re the last two Earthlings left.”

That simple statement settled onto Benedict’s mind like a heavy blanket. The implications were overwhelming, and his chest constricted at the thought. But a moment later, he felt a familiar presence by his side.

Jasai’i had joined him.

And that made everything a little easier to bear.