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

Yloa released his underling, letting the pitiful creature fall to the floor. He had given them so much. He had sacrificed everything for the future of Ka’arath, and yet, none of them were grateful. They spat in his face, naming him tyrant. Dictator. Villain. He was all of those things and more, but most of all, he was their savior. Without him, no one on his planet would have survived.

So, when the system had announced that it was giving them a chance to escape their ruined planet, he’d thought his diligence was finally being rewarded. If ever there was a Feat of Strength, then shielding an entire continent from the Abyss should have qualified. So, it was with some optimism that he had sent his hunters out to satisfy the requirements of the task set before him.

However, the participants in the Trial of Primacy had proven to be much more powerful than he ever could have expected.

Or the Shackles were far more restrictive. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be a mortal, and so had many of his most powerful followers. Certainly, they were all much stronger than they had been when they were true mortals, but that didn’t seem to matter. The Hunters had killed a few, but mostly, their efforts had been stymied. At first, Yloa had blamed them. He had punished quite a few. But as the invaders had toppled one challenge after another, he had come to realize that the participants were much more capable than he could have anticipated.

And he was far more limited.

If he or his champions had been permitted to leave the Seat of Thunder, things would have turned out differently. If the system hadn’t given the participants in the Trial a safe zone at the center of the continent, the Hunters could have overwhelmed them.

If.

It was such an insidious word that brought with it too many excuses. A hundred factors contributed to the situation, but knowing the reasons didn’t change the circumstances.

Now, the system, in all its hatred for true innovation, had ripped his greatest achievement to shreds. The shield he’d erected around the continent was in tatters, and he could feel it as keenly as if his actual body had been wounded.

He took a deep, hissing breath before looking up. They were all there. The Houndmaster. The Captain. The General. Even Boss K’nok and his Enforcer, Barag, had come when he’d called. They all had proper names, but he preferred to think of them in terms of their titles. Those were far more important, after all.

The Mage lay at his feet, having paid for his cowardice.

“Does anyone else suggest treating with these people?” he asked, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. Once, his throne room had seemed so opulent. So comfortable. Now, he saw it for the gilded prison it had become. He could not leave the Seat of Thunder. The moment he’d taken the task upon himself, he’d consented to playing the role the system demanded of him. He could still act as he pleased, but he was prevented from taking the battle to the invaders.

“We will fight,” announced the General. He was a veteran of thousands of battles, having climbed from nothing to take command of Yloa’s armies. Now, he only had a few thousand soldiers under him, but his powers as a Tactician remained. “I have already given the order to activate the Seat of Thunder’s defenses.”

The Guard Captain echoed the General’s plan, pledging his own guards to the task. The Houndmaster was characteristically silent. Despite the failure of her Hunters, she was still an asset Yloa could not afford to lose. So, he ordered her to patrol the grounds. She consented with a curt nod.

Finally, there was Boss K’nok.

“The way I see it, you need me a lot more than I need you,” the brutish criminal said. Yloa had enlisted the ka’alaki’s help thousands of years before. And his assistance had been instrumental in winning the war. As a result, he’d been among the first who’d taken up residence in the Seat of Thunder, where he’d taken advantage of his position to create an empire of criminality. Of course, most of that had fallen with Ka’arath’s excisement, but K’nok’s nature hadn’t changed. He still broke Yloa’s laws when he wanted to. “What do I get when we repel these invaders and escape this cursed planet?”

Yloa wanted to kill the impertinent criminal.

But he knew he couldn’t afford to lose him. Not when he was so close to getting away from Ka’arath. There was an entire multi-verse out there for him to exploit. He would not die in exile. He refused.

And Boss K’nok had hundreds of cunning fighters at his disposal.

Once the criminal had served his purpose, Yloa would do what he’d wanted to do for centuries. Not before, though.

“What do you want?” Yloa asked.

“Ethereum, to start. Resources for me and mine. That means natural treasures. The kind only a transcendent can get.”

“Very well. You will have your…trinkets.”

“Then I’ll do my job,” K’nok said. “They won’t get through the Underseat.”

Yloa hated that name, largely because it was so literal. Beneath the Seat of Thunder was a maze of slums where many of the servants’ families lived. Most were pitifully inbred abominations, and if he could have afforded to slaughter them, he would have. But he and his immediate underlings liked having servants. So, they’d let the creatures continue their woeful existences where they wouldn’t be seen by their betters.

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“Good,” Yloa said. Then, he took a final look at his latest notification: