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

As Miguel walked beside the laden wagon, he couldn’t keep himself from gaping at his surroundings. Mountains, larger than any had been before the world’s transformation, towered all around, reaching toward the blue sky and piercing the clouds. A gentle wind blew, carrying with it the unmistakable chill of late winter, which was exacerbated by the heightened elevation.

A few dwarves sat on the wagon, which was pulled by beasts of burden that before his recent stint as a caravan guard, Miguel had only seen from afar. The creatures – which were called carak and were native to one clan of the Ironshore dwarves’ homeworld – looked like a cross between oxen and bears, with shaggy coats that tickled the ground. They were incredibly strong, though, and they displayed that power by pulling wagons that each weighed as much as a fully loaded trailer from an eighteen-wheeler.

The wagons were spatially enchanted, which meant that they mitigated the weight and space of the goods they carried, though Miguel had been told that they weren’t even close to perfectly efficient. Thus, the immense weight, which was only about half of what it would’ve been outside the wagons. Either way, there was an enormous number of processed ingots of high-quality ore in there. Enough to make quite a lot of profit, according to the Teamster in charge of the procession of six such wagons.

They were bound for Norcastle, which meant that the trip was meant to take about three weeks. According to everyone involved, it was normally a quick and easy trip. The well-traveled trail wasn’t completely devoid of danger – nowhere in the world was, Miguel knew – but most of the beasts in the area preferred to avoid people rather than attack them. So, there was a good chance that Miguel and the other guards – mostly young fighters without much experience – wouldn’t be needed.

Still, Miguel was well aware of just how dangerous the wilderness could be, so he focused on the task at hand, scanning his surroundings with as much attention as he could manage. And eventually, as the sun began to set, they reached the highest point of the pass through the mountains. Once, it had been the site of a battle between Miguel’s uncle and some sort of fearsome spider monster, though any evidence of that fight had long since faded. Now, it just looked like a bare strip of mountainous terrain populated only by a few lonely trees.

The Teamsters circled the wagons, then activated an enchantment meant to dissuade the wildlife from coming near during the night. Meanwhile, Miguel and the other young fighters stood guard. It usually proved unnecessary, because throughout the first leg of their journey, nothing had ever attacked. Miguel almost wished that weren’t the case. He was itching to test out his new class and increased attributes.

But he only had to delve into his own memories to retract that flippant thought. If something attacked, there was a good chance that people would die. He’d lived through that sort of thing, and though he was prepared for it, he didn’t want to see the consequences.

Once the wagons had been circled and the enchantment had been activated, the captain of the guards – a dwarf named Beni – established the schedule for the night’s watch. Miguel took the first one, which turned out to be entirely uneventful, and a few hours after nightfall, he was relieved by another member of the guard.

One glance at the others, some of whom were playing cards or conversing around the fire at the center of the camp, and Miguel felt like more of an outsider than ever before. He was the only human in the entire caravan, and as such, he knew he didn’t really belong. On top of that, everyone was painfully aware of whose nephew he was, and Elijah’s reputation went a long way toward keeping Miguel separate from the people of Ironshore.

So, rather than join the other off-duty guards or Teamsters, Miguel found a spot under one of the wagons, retrieved his bedding from his pack, then removed his armor. It was crude-grade stuff – the same set he’d worn before choosing his class – but it was good enough for now. His mother had offered him a new set, but he’d refused. The same was true of weapons. It just seemed like such a waste, largely because of two abilities he’d received from his class.

The first was called Wood Armor Affinity: