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

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

Elijah looked up the basket of cherries he’d just picked. Tura stood nearby, hunched over her cane and wearing an unpleasant frown that left her scaled face even more wrinkled than usual.

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently as he turned away from the coffee tree he’d grown.

“Do I need to make a list?”

“Uh…”

“One, that tree is not native to this jungle. Growing it could have far-reaching consequences on the ecosystem. What do you think would happen if a crate-lizard ate one of those cherries? Hmm?”

“Um…”

“No answer, eh?” she asked, her cane suddenly appearing in one of her hands. She stomped forward and whacked him in the shoulder. “Two, you’re doing it all wrong. You’re like a lamellar ape with a club when you should be like a –”

“I used to be able to turn into one of those. Are they native here? Do you know where I can find them?”

She hit him again.

“Ow. Can you please stop doing that?”

“Can you please stop making so many mistakes?” she demanded in return. “That tree. Look at its roots, eh? Look at its vascular system. Those leaves. Pitiful. Why grow things if you’re not going to do it properly, hmm?”

“This is how the tree grows on my world,” he insisted.

“And you don’t think you could improve it? Give it a little boost, eh? You did it with your little tree in the abyss. Why can’t you do it with this one?”

“I just wanted to grow some more coffee cherries. I didn’t want to create an entirely new species of coffee tree,” he answered, feeling a little defensive. An attitude of constant improvement was one thing, but if nature had already achieved perfection, then there was no reason to change it. Could the coffee be better? Always. But that wasn’t the goal.

“That is your problem, boy. You lack purpose. Every act should be undertaken with the intention of improvement,” she explained. “You want to grow a tree? Make it better. Learn from it. Don’t want to change it? Then don’t. But you can always make it hardier. More energetic. Instead, you just throw your spells at it like a dumb beast. You are better than that.”

Elijah frowned, anticipating another smack from her cane. It didn’t come. Instead of looking angry, she just looked disappointed in him.

“And three, you are meant to be training with Birk.”

“I was, but he was called away.”

“And you still cut your training short?” she asked.

“Uh…I was going to go back and finish?”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

She rolled her eyes. “You realize that I don’t believe you, do you not?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re still sticking with that answer?”

“One hundred percent.”

This time, she did whack him. “Do better, boy,” she chastised. “Now, come with me.”

“Why?” he asked. That morning, he’d spent hours training with her. He still wasn’t great at recognizing the formation of his spells, but he was starting to get the hang of it. He was proud of his progress, right up until Tura reminded him that he’d barely reached the expertise expected of a child.

“Your seeding came in. I thought you might like to see where you rank amongst your peers,” she answered. “Besides, I assume you’re not going to roast those yourself, eh? Come along. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

After that, Elijah followed Tura from the meadow where he’d planted his coffee tree. By all rights, growing it should have been the work of years, but he’d managed it in the space of a few days. It was nothing more than a side project, and not one he’d taken very seriously. He still had plenty of coffee in his Arcane Loop, after all. But the less he needed to dip into his stores, the better.

He could see things from Tura’s perspective, though. It reminded him a little of some advice he’d received as a teenager. Back then, he’d fancied himself a real boxer. Did it matter that he’d never really had a shot at being anything more than a moderately talented amateur? Not really. Not with the optimism of youth pushing him forward.

In any case, his trainer had told him something that seemed applicable to his current situation. He was just warming up when the grizzled old man had told him, “Always do things with intention. Every punch should have a purpose. Don’t just flail around. Don’t equate popping pads with a good warmup. It’s not about noise. It’s not about strength. It’s about precision.”

From that moment on, Elijah had done just that, and the improvement was stark. It wasn’t impactful to put him on another level, but it did teach him the value of intention. Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten that lesson.

He needed to remember it if he was going to make the most out of his time in the Empire of Scale.

Tura led him back to her hut. Its primitive construction was a stark contrast to the wonders of the city above. And Elijah couldn’t deny that it gave the place a cozy feeling that Ashakar lacked.

Once inside, he handed Tura the basket of cherries, which she set aside on a scrubbed wood table in the center of the room. Then, she grabbed something from her pocket and handed it over.

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Predictably, it was a crystal.

For whatever reason, the people of the Empire of Scale didn’t use paper. Instead, they used information embedded in crystals. Elijah reached out with a bit of ethera, resulting in a holographic display that looked a lot like a system notification: