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

“Don’t take victory for granted. Palir es Umbranix is a capable opponent.”

Elijah stared at the floor, cycling his plan through his mind. “Anyone who could make it this far is capable,” he countered Birk’s point. “I know that.”

The big drake grunted, then resumed pacing. With every fight Elijah had won, Birk had given him a little more respect. He still wasn’t an equal. Or even someone Birk would consider worthy. Instead, he was something like a promising novice. But considering where he’d started, Elijah would take that assessment.

But the fact that he was pacing like a caged animal told Elijah that Birk cared more than he let on. And it wasn’t just because Elijah was his student. It went deeper than that.

It was almost heartwarming.

“Is Sara here?” he asked.

“She is in the stands with Tura.”

“How is she?”

Three days had passed since Elijah had completed his cultivation session, but he still hadn’t seen his adopted sister. Partially, that was because there hadn’t been much time. But it was also because he didn’t know what to say to her. After all, Skahan’s violation of Kaela had echoed Sara’s own trauma. It wasn’t as overt, but there were enough similarities that it assuredly left a mark on her psyche.

Elijah wanted to help her. He needed to comfort her. To protect her. She was so vulnerable. But he didn’t know how to help, save to enact his plan. Perhaps that would give her some peace of mind.

Given her personality and the fact that she was also a dragon, he expected as much.

“She is well. Oddly subdued, of late.”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“I am always subdued.”

“Only to those who don’t know how to translate grunts to real words.”

Birk grunted dismissively, but he offered no other retort. For the next few minutes, the pair existed in silence that didn’t break until an attendant came to fetch Elijah.

He followed her in silence, oddly relaxed for a man about to go into battle. Part of that came from confidence, not in his technical abilities, but rather, in his will. He would not allow himself to lose.

Elijah didn’t much care about the tournament itself. Sure, the levels he gained from each victory came in handy. And he wouldn’t turn down the reward, which was the opportunity to use one of the most potent cultivation aids in the entire Empire of Scale. The First Fang would doubtless grant him the fuel he needed to push his core to the next stage.

Yet, Elijah’s motivation had never been tied to external rewards. He liked loot and progression as much as the next guy, but his goals were more personal than that. He fought because he needed to fight. He won because winning was better than losing. And in this case, he would defeat Palir es Umbranix because he was in the way.

After the Chronomancer created his anchor, Elijah approached the door separating him from the arena floor. He could feel the power in its construction, the absolute artistry in a simple door.

He ignored it, his focus coming to a sharp point.

The door opened, and Elijah stepped forward. As he did so, he allowed himself to take on his draconic form. The crowd gasped as his emerald scales flashed in the afternoon sunlight.

Was it bad form?

Did it break with custom?

Elijah neither knew nor cared. It was what he needed to get through the fight, and with only three fights left, he had no reason to hold back.

His dragon form took up a lot more space, but the arena adjusted with him. The floor which had once measured only a few hundred yards across grew to half a mile wide. Elijah hardly noticed. Instead, he only had eyes for his opponent.

Palir es Umbranix’s humanoid form was tall and willowy, like a whip ready to strike. His purple scales gleamed dully, absorbing most of the light. Otherwise, he looked no different than a hundred other dragons Elijah had seen. Handsome, certainly. Preternaturally so. But that tended to lose its value when it wasn’t unique.

The dragon cocked his head to the side, clearly surprised at Elijah’s form. He offered no other reaction, clearly choosing to remain in his humanoid shape.

The Curator hesitated for only a moment before launching into the introductions. As he did so, Elijah gathered ethera, funneling it into three spells. He couldn’t cast before the battle began, but he could compound them as much as the time would allow.

The effect of his grandmaster soul was immediately noticeable. The spells flowed faster and far more easily than ever before. So, when the Curator announced the beginning of the fight, they had compounded into considerable power.

Yet, Elijah didn’t release them.

Nor did he move.

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Instead, he simply waited.

Palir disappeared, just as Elijah had expected from someone with an assassin’s build. Still, he remained motionless, the spells roiling within. Palir must have found Elijah’s actions – or lack thereof – curious, because he took far longer than expected to attack.

But eventually, he struck.

Elijah felt him an instant before the attack landed. In that time, he released all three of his spells.

Even as the dragon’s spear slid between Elijah’s ribs and destroyed a handful of vital organs, Bough of the World Tree settled onto him.