Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO STUBBING AUGUST 15)-11-76. First Among Elders
“When our people come of age,” said a draconic man in the center of a large arena. He paused for effect, and the hundred or so other dragons that were the audience leaned forward. “They must prove their worth in the Rite of Heritage.”
The crowd let out a cheer that felt sized to shake the very planet. Elijah stood stoically and on all fours, only a hundred feet from the announcer. He could barely take everything in. The arena itself was half a mile long and almost as wide, with the floor covered in fine sand. Behind him were two other dragons who he presumed to be his parents.
Or rather, Asharain’s. His body was entirely unfamiliar, though his experience in various bestial shapes had prepared him well to adapt to the odd form. He stood on four legs, with a long, serpentine tail and a matching neck. He didn’t have a mirror handy, but from what he could feel, he was certain that he looked like a prototypical dragon.
Size was a bit difficult to ascertain. When he stepped, the earth shook, so he could only think that he was much larger than he felt. Though, given that his parents were at least twice his size, majestically towering over him, their scales shimmering with dense energy. If he let himself look too long, Elijah felt certain he’d be blinded.
The audience, such as they were, existed on a similar scale.
Elijah also felt strong. Far stronger than he had in his normal body. Probably even stronger than he’d been while under the effects of Child of Fire. A simple swipe of his claws could destroy a quarter of the arena.
But he held back.
The announcer continued, “This rite is more than simple proof of worthiness, though. So very much more. It is a warning as well. We stand at the top, but ever do our enemies attempt to supplant us. We must rule through strength, lest they succeed.
“To that end,” he announced, finally fixing his gaze on Elijah. That simple stare bored into him. It was proof that this announcer, even though he was no bigger than a human, was the most powerful person in the arena. In that respect, he reminded Elijah of Kirlissa. “We host young Asharain, son of Milakar and Esthen, heir to their holdings and bearer of their legacy.”
The crowd cheered again.
“Asharain. Are you prepared?”
Elijah spoke up, his voice loud and clear as a bell. “I am,” he heard himself say. “I am worthy of our heritage.”
“So we shall see,” the announcer said. “Be ready.”
Then, he turned and strode away. Space seemed to distort with every step, and within two strides, he was among the rest of the crowd.
“Behold, a troll!” his voice echoed across the arena. About fifty feet away, the ground opened, and a cascade of sand poured into the resultant hole. A platform rose to the surface. Upon it was a familiar creature. Covered in fine hair, the troll reminded Elijah of the blood priests, rather than the simple brutes they used as footsoldiers. However, there was an air of danger around this creature that nothing outside the Primal Realm had possessed.
The implication was clear. This was no mere conjuration of the system. Rather, it was the real thing. An intelligent, capable creature that could – and would – kill him at a moment’s notice.
Oddly, Elijah couldn’t get a good sense of the troll’s level.
What he did notice was that it was shackled in place. Moreover, it lacked the near-rabid battlelust Elijah had witnessed outside the Red Marsh. It raised its head, its eyes flicking back and forth before they settled onto Elijah.
“I do not wish to kill you, youngling,” it said, its voice a grating gurgle. “I have no quarrel with dragons. But I seek freedom, which has been promised to me if I defeat you. If there was another way, I would take it.”
Elijah didn’t respond, even though he suddenly realized that he was in complete control. Before, the entire thing had felt like it was on rails. He couldn’t really deviate, even if he wanted to.
Now he could.
But it didn’t take a genius to understand what was going on. He was meant to go through this Rite of Heritage. And with his more powerful body, he felt relatively prepared to do just that.
“Begin!” shouted the announcer, his voice loud enough to send a ripple through the sand.
Elijah didn’t hesitate. He darted in, staying low to the ground as he pulled his neck back. Then, he snapped out. His jaws only found air.
Somehow, the troll had moved, and so quickly that Elijah could scarcely track its progress. A burning wound erupted in Elijah’s side as the opponent raked its claws across his scales.
He responded by sweeping his tail around. It barely clipped the troll, sending the hairy creature skipping across the arena. With each impact, an explosion of sand erupted into the air. Though Elijah knew enough about trolls to recognize that it would be completely unharmed by such a blow.
So, he followed, rocketing across the arena. His first couple of steps were unsteady, largely because of the coiled power in his muscles, but he managed to get them under control by the time he reached the troll.
The creature picked itself up, its bones snapping back into place. Elijah circled, his head only inches from the ground. The troll turned, its claws ready as it followed his every move.
And then, it twitched.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; any sightings.
Elijah dove to the side, narrowly avoiding those raking claws. He unfurled his neck like a spring, and he was rewarded when his jaws closed around the creature’s torso. He bit down hard, cracking bones. The coppery taste of blood and flesh danced across his draconic tongue, but he paid it no mind.
In that moment, only victory mattered.
As Elijah bit into the creature, the announcer explained that trolls were known for unmatched regeneration. According to his little history lesson, the trolls had a history of genetic manipulation – he didn’t call it that, but Elijah inferred the meaning – meant to accentuate the power of their footsoldiers.
Elijah knew his opponent was no such creature. This was one of their nobles. The same caste as the blood priests. And as such, it lacked the massive regeneration or physical prowess of those shock troopers.
And Elijah’s borrowed body was more than powerful enough to take advantage of that. Oddly, he realized that he had no abilities available to him, though. No status screens. No spells to cast. He could scarcely even feel his core, much less the other parts of his cultivation.
He barely paid that any attention before ripping the troll limb from limb. It still took a while to die. But die, it did.
Elijah stood over it, his snout bloody and his claws caked in gore. The troll was nothing more than a pile of meat and bones covered in blood.
“A traditionalist!” shouted the announcer. “Trolls are not always enemies, but when they try to rise above their station, they must be put down hard and fast. Otherwise, they will survive and continue to come back for generations to come. Good job, young Asharain!”
The crowd cheered again, and even louder than before. Elijah craned his neck, and he saw his host’s parents looking on with unmistakable pride – and no small degree of concern – on their faces. He could understand that. While the troll hadn’t been particularly powerful, it was still a monstrous enemy capable of killing him.
“Next, we have a hobgoblin,” the announcer said.
Elijah hadn’t really seen a true hobgoblin before. The ones he’d encountered outside the Eternal War were very nearly wild creatures, and as such, they lacked the intelligence Sadie had described. But the next foe to rise from the depths better epitomized her description.
It was tall, lean, broad-shouldered and athletic-looking. Otherwise, its features reminded Elijah of Ramik – the goblin mayor of Ironshore – though somehow sharper and less exaggerated. The newcomer also carried a heavy spear and a simple wooden shield.
“Hobgoblins are devoted to conquest in a way few other races can claim. They live for victory over those they deem inferior – which is everyone. Even dragons!” the announcer revealed.
Meanwhile, Elijah approached the hobgoblin, who crouched low, his spear at the ready and his shield held before him. He circled, his footwork perfect. He was quick. Strong, too, judging by how he moved.
He started out with a feint that Elijah ignored. He’d sparred with peerless combatants like Sadie, his nephew, and Colt, but the hobgoblin most reminded him of Ivin.
The creature feinted a few more times, slowly circling. Elijah turned with him. Always ready and looking for an opening. Then, suddenly, one presented itself. He darted forward, ready to snap the hobgoblin in half.
Pain erupted from his eye. He recoiled, only to see the hobgoblin retreat. The tip of his spear was bloody.
“Amateur child,” growled the hobgoblin, “I will have your hide as a trophy.”
Elijah roared, tapping into a wild fury that had been simmering beneath the surface. He moved quickly. Efficiently. The pain in his eye was meaningless, and the speed with which he moved clearly surprised the hobgoblin. Still, the creature put up a good fight, though his next attack sent his spearhead skipping across the hard scales along Elijah’s snout.
It drew blood, but only a trickle.
It also further ignited Elijah’s anger. He was a dragon. He would be no one’s trophy.
He kept coming, his head darting in like a striking snake. Over and over. The hobgoblin tried to fend him off, but in the end, he was incapable of dealing with the deluge of attacks. Elijah finished the fight with his jaws around the creature’s narrow waist. He bit down hard, sending gushing blood squirting into his mouth. A simple flex, and the two halves of the creature fell to either side of his mouth.
They hit with a wet plop.
Of course, the hobgoblin kept fighting. He didn’t know the meaning of surrender. But without a troll’s regeneration, the creature had no chance of survival. Elijah ended him by crushing his skull underfoot.
“Magnificent! But beware – where there is one hobgoblin, there are always more lurking. Alone, they are strong. Together, they can rival any force you may encounter!”
Elijah almost expected an entire squad of hobgoblins to rise from the ground, but blessedly, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, his next foe was a sphynx. The creature was enormous – at least as large as Elijah himself – and possessed a lion-like body, wings like an eagle, and the face of a beautiful woman. Of course, those looks were ruined by the massive mane encircling the creature’s head.
When Elijah attacked, he found himself beset by traps as the creature spat riddles at him. The announcer described the sphynxes as a cunning race obsessed with proving themselves more intelligent than anyone else.
“And most agree that few can rival them in the realm of pure intellect,” the announce revealed as Elijah struggled to free himself from ethereal traps. “But you are a dragon, young Asharain. Inferior to no one. Prove it.”
Elijah knew he couldn’t simply outsmart the sphynx, so he leaned on his own strengths. Pure might. He marshalled his power and, through sheer will and strength, managed to plow through the ethereal constructs. Once he reached the sphynx, the fight devolved into a contest of claws and fangs. And as large as the creature was, it could not hold a candle to a dragon.
It ended up being ripped to shreds and dying not far from where Elijah had killed the troll.
Next up was an ogre. The hulking humanoid was actually stronger than Elijah, but he was far quicker. To take it down, he used a combination of intense hit-and-run tactics. It fell, but not after a long, drawn-out battle that left Elijah feeling exhausted.
But he didn’t get a break.
Instead, he found himself facing a beautiful woman with wings of pure light. She reminded him of Sadie, and the hesitation that followed that brief moment of recognition very nearly got him killed. Only at the last second did he snap out of it, which gave him just enough time to escape the cage she’d erected around him.
As they fought, the angel continuously screamed about sin and judgement. Elijah ignored her, and eventually, he was forced to use his own wings to enable him to reach the haughty woman. She went down soon after.
The final two fights came in the form of a demon and a mechanique. The demon tried to manipulate him by claiming to have been abducted from his home. He just wanted to get home. Elijah almost believed him, too. Right up until he tried to bury a wicked dagger of darkness in Elijah’s throat.
After that, it was a simple matter of chasing him down and killing him.
And finally came the mechanique. Elijah barely listened to the announcer’s backstory. After all, he’d seen how the mechaniques had once been chimera. Instead, he crashed into the golem-man and proceeded to rip him to pieces.
Then, it was done.
Elijah looked around, his breath coming in great heaves. His green scales were marred by a mass of wounds, but he could sense that none of them were serious.
“Good, young Asharain. You are a true dragon!” the announcer conceded. “However, to take your place among us, you must understand that the elder races are not the only ones who can threaten us. No – there is an ancient enemy, and one who has fought us throughout our entire history. Brace yourself, young one. The Rite continues.”
Even as he spoke, Elijah heard a familiar sound – like a fleet of helicopters coming over the horizon. And he knew precisely what was coming.
.
!
11-76. First Among Elders
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