Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO STUBBING AUGUST 15)

Silvery light shone down on the street between the guild headquarters and the abandoned building as Bruce eagerly watched three groups of seasoned adventurers rush toward the lone figure. Their defenders led the way – two of which held shields, while the other was armed only with a massive sword – while the melee fighters fanned out to surround the man. All three Sorcerers began the process of casting their most potent spells, while the Healers lagged behind. Finally, the two Rangers were the furthest away, ready to pepper the man with arrows the moment the defenders engaged.

It was a standard formation for fighting through the tower, and even if it wasn’t ideal against an intelligent opponent, it had become habit for the members of the Adventurer’s Guild. Meanwhile, Bruce and Mariah stayed far enough behind that they would be able to avoid any stray attacks.

And if it came down to it, Bruce would have time to do what needed to be done. But he wouldn’t commit to that path just yet. He had faith in his people, especially against a singular opponent. Often, he’d claimed that his adventurers could hold up even against those monsters at the top of the power rankings, so he had every reason to believe they could hold their own against the man standing so nonchalantly in front of the building.

“Murder-hobo-ing it is, then,” the fellow said. Then, Bruce felt the ambient ethera swirl.

“Shields!” he shouted.

The Healers responded to his order with drilled quickness, and a series of shields sprang up around them. Then, another set enveloped the Sorcerers, who were the second-most-vulnerable members of the force. The next target would be the Rangers, though they never got the chance for that before the sky opened and lightning forked down from suddenly manifested clouds. Blades of wind cut through his people, kicking up dust and debris even as the earth roiled and broke beneath them.

Shouts of panic filled the air, but Bruce was happy to see that his people kept their wits about them.

A fly bit him in the neck, and he slapped the tiny insect, killing it. “What do you think –”

Another bite. Then another. It was only after the fourth that he looked inward and shouted, “Watch for afflictions!”

As the Healers responded, blanketing the area with curing spells, he drank a potion. Mariah did the same, though she still seemed as calm as ever. “The affliction is not initially life-threatening for anyone above fifty Constitution,” she intoned, still reading from the tablet she’d somehow linked to her powers. Luckily, they were far enough from the localized storm that she didn’t have to shout. “But it compounds. Each instance will do five percent more damage and be slightly more difficult to cure.”

“Monstrous flies?”

“Conjured,” Mariah answered. “More powerful than they should be.”

“Equipment?”

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged. “It is difficult to say for sure.”

Bruce shook his head and focused on the battle. He was horrified to see that the man was gone, and in his place was some sort of scaled monstrosity that looked like someone had crossed a lizard and a sasquatch, with a little bit of gorilla thrown in for good measure. The monster was enormous, and judging by the way it sent his highest-level tanks staggering with every blow, it was ridiculously strong.

More distressingly, when the Rangers’ arrows hit its hide – along with the melee fighters weapons – it resulted in very little damage. “What is going on there? Is that some sort of pet? Where did it come from?”

“That is the man,” Mariah said. “He has a transformation ability, likely associated with his class. By my calculations, he is capable of mitigating up to ninety percent of all incoming physical damage – less if his Constitution is lower than his opponent’s highest attribute – at the cost of stamina.” A fireball from one of the Sorcerers hit him. “And the damage from elemental spells seems to have been cut significantly as well. That, I believe is due to a buff of some sort, though without further observation, I can not say for certain.”

“Dammit,” growled Bruce, watching the man-creature leap over one of the tanks and grab hold of a Healer. Before anyone could react, the foe spun like a hammer-thrower, then launched the healer down the street. The woman flew for nearly fifty yards before hitting the pavement, bouncing a couple of times, and then rolling to a stop. She didn’t move after that.

“What are you orders, sir?” asked Mariah. “There is time to retreat. We can bunker down in the Headquarters. Thad’s traps are still active.”

“The one on the roof was the strongest he could create,” Bruce said. Indeed, the Trapper was one of the highest-leveled members of the guild, and his traps were legendary for their potency. “If that couldn’t take this guy out, then what makes you think any of the others will?”

“We could engage in a fighting retreat,” she suggested. “Perhaps we can exhaust him. Stamina is a finite resource, even if it is not as quantifiable as ethera.”

Bruce ignored her.

Instead, he was doing the calculations in his head. Even if they managed to defeat the creature, what good would it do? The guild’s most powerful members would be killed, which would make the guild vulnerable to a takeover by that idealist idiot Isaiah and his lackeys from Ranier. And they would win, too. Sure, the Adventurers had the advantage now, but it was tenuous. Any losses would affect their ability to maintain control.

But losses didn’t seem avoidable in this instance.

Was it time?

If he took the final step, he’d lose everything. However, he would survive. More, he would kill the man who’d ruined everything. And Isaiah, too, if he was lucky. Maybe that stubborn Gardener as well. All of that raced through Bruce’s mind as he watched yet another one of his guild members die – this time, a Sorcerer was crushed to paste by a series of pounding strikes that looked strikingly like a gorilla attack.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He glanced at Mariah, saying, “For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to do this.”

“What was that, sir?” she asked, not looking up from her tablet.

“Nothing.”

Then, he used Dissolution.