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

Elijah heaved a body onto the pile, then took a deep breath that he immediately regretted. His sense of smell had recently taken a step forward – or perhaps his Mind was now capable of parsing the sensory information more completely now that it had progressed to the Jade stage – so getting a nose full of decay was especially disgusting. He turned away and saw that the procession of corpses was still ongoing.

“How many, do you think?” asked Ron, who’d discarded his sparkly robe in favor of a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt. His boots were stained with old paint.

“Atticus said that there were more than a hundred dead, not including the Immortals.”

“Damn.”

“Something like that,” Elijah agreed. The outburst of violence had surprised everyone, so they were lucky the damage hadn’t been more extensive. The only reason the death toll hadn’t been higher was because the Immortals, for all their inability to die, made for terrible and undisciplined soldiers. Despite the muggy heat, Elijah felt a shiver travel up his spine, prompted by the notion of a well-trained army of Immortals. If they’d been a little more capable, there was every chance that they would have killed or converted everyone in the Trial.

“Where are the others?” Ron asked. He’d spent most of his time healing the injured, and as such, he wasn’t as familiar with the clean-up efforts as Elijah was.

“Building a pyre for the Immortals. Everyone agreed that burning them is probably for the best. The others…”

“Mass grave,” Ron said, looking at the pile. “Seems almost disrespectful.”

“Some of the survivors already took their friends’ bodies back to Earth. This is the best we can do with the rest,” Elijah said. “We can’t spend weeks digging graves.”

Left unsaid was that it didn’t matter. The dead didn’t care how they were planted in the ground. If there truly was such a thing as the spirit – and Elijah had some evidence that there was – then they’d long since departed. What remained was just rotting meat.

“I can’t keep doing this, Elijah.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to get back to Nancy. She needs me,” Ron said. “Everyone back home does. My life isn’t just about me. There are people depending on me.”

“Then why did you come here?” Elijah asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know. It almost felt like a compulsion,” Ron said. “We spent so long struggling to survive. Working to get stronger. Then this opportunity comes along, and I got an invitation. I had to take it. I needed to see if I could get strong enough to make a difference. Now, though…”

“Nothing has changed, Ron,” Elijah said. “I mean, I get it. I’ve got people I care about, too. If you feel like you need to go, I won’t try to convince you otherwise. Just let me know before you do, and I’ll make sure you have directions to Ironshore. I don’t know if you’re close enough to get there, but you’re welcome to bring everyone. I won’t say it’s entirely safe. I don’t think that can be said of anywhere on Earth. But it’s probably safer than wherever you’ve been.”

Ron narrowed his eyes, then said, “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

After that, the man turned and left Elijah to oversee the rest of the burial process. It went on for a couple more hours until, at last, the bodies had been placed – as respectfully as possible – into the pit, then covered. Most of the remaining corpses had belonged to loners, but there were a few tearful faces as they were finally put to rest. For Elijah’s part, he simply stared at the mound of turned earth, his thoughts squarely centered on how quickly those people’s fates had changed. They’d come to the Trial expecting to grow more powerful, and all they’d found was death.

And they weren’t the only ones, either. Elijah had no idea how many had died since the beginning of the Trial of Primacy, but the number had to have reached four digits.

His own path had been difficult enough to suggest that the number would continue to climb. The challenges were deadly. From the very beginning, that had been obvious. Even Elijah and his companions, who were among the most powerful people Earth had to offer, had nearly died a dozen times over.

More near-death experiences would come, too. Of that, Elijah was certain. Given that indisputable reality, perhaps Ron had the right idea.

Once everyone had been buried and the makeshift memorial had concluded, Elijah retreated through the Nexus Town, passing rubble-strewn areas along the way. The battle against the Immortals had taken a heavy toll on the settlement, and that extended to the structures themselves. Fortunately, there were plenty of surviving buildings to accommodate the survivors.

Elijah made his way to the premises established by his friend, Atticus Ariti, who was a high-level Merchant. He’d also gathered the crafters and other non-combatants to work together, creating what he called a Consortium. That had made it much easier for the Immortals – and their leader, Nasir – to practically enslave them, but it had also kept most of them from being caught up in the battle. The vast majority had survived, and some had even taken steps forward in their crafting prowess.

Like everything else associated with the system, life and death struggle made everything more impactful.

Those thoughts skated through Elijah’s mind as he entered the building and found his friend. Atticus was tall, with the broad shoulders and narrow waist of a natural athlete. He also had a large, sharp nose that gave his face the appearance of a bird of prey. He smiled broadly when he saw Elijah.

“My friend, our savior!” he exclaimed, extending his hand. “Welcome!”

“Hey,” Elijah said, taking his friend’s hand. Then, the man pulled him close in a hug. “What’s this for?”

“I’m grateful for everything you did.”

“Other people helped. Sadie and Kurik and –”

“I know, and I will thank them accordingly,” Atticus said, releasing Elijah. “But I believe I know you well enough to recognize that you would have tried, even if no one else had helped.”

Elijah almost blushed at the praise, but he didn’t dispute it. He would have indeed attempted to save Atticus and the crafters, even if his companions had refused to help.

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“What can I do for you, my friend? Or is this a social visit?”

“Do you and the others intend to repair the rest of the settlement?”

Atticus shook his head. “Most of it, no. But we will ensure that it’s livable and that the Branch is fully accessible,” he said.

“How many of your crafters have left?”

“Four. Two Woodworkers, another Merchant, and a Weaver,” he answered. “More than I hoped, but less than anticipated.”

Elijah nodded. He’d expected more departures as well, but perhaps that was an error in judgement. After all, everyone who’d been given a spot in the Trial was one of the most powerful people in the world, which suggested real dedication, especially for a crafter. There probably weren’t many people in the Trial who were afflicted with a faint heart.

“Can you identify something for me?” Elijah asked. “It’s a reward from one of the Trials.”

“Certainly, my friend. Follow me,” Atticus said.

After that, the Merchant led Elijah away from the building’s lobby – which functioned as a showroom for his Consortium’s wares – and deeper into their headquarters. After a few moments, Elijah followed Atticus into a room populated only by a large, stone table.

“This looks a lot like the one in your shop back in Argos,” Elijah said, running his hand along the smooth stone. The center had been carved with various runes, but the outside edge was polished smooth.

“One of the members of the Consortium is a Stoneworker,” Atticus said. “He specializes in buildings, but he can create all sorts of interesting items. Take this for instance…”

A small, stone statue – maybe three inches tall – appeared in Atticus’ hand. “Limited use enchanted item,” the Merchant went on. “That one provides temporary invisibility, but he has a few others that can give buffs to various attributes. Those only last around ten minutes, and they’re weaker than even low-level class abilities. They don’t stack either, but for the solo combatant, they might give people an edge.”

“Interesting,” Elijah said. “How long does the invisibility last?”

“Forty-five seconds,” Atticus answered. Then, he tossed the statue – which depicted a flame – to Elijah, who caught it with one hand. “Keep it. Three uses left. After that, it’s worthless.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, what did you want identified?” Atticus asked.

In response, Elijah reached into his Ghoul-Hide Satchel and retrieved the Shard of Nature’s Might before setting it in the center of the stone table. A second later, ethera swirled around Atticus, then connected to the table. The Merchant’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Here,” Atticus said, waving his hand. A second later, what looked like a system notification appeared in the air. It said: