Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO ON KINDLE SEPT. 2)

A cold wind swept across the open field, cutting through the warm spring air and heralding the storm to come. Thor glared at the horizon as if he could intimidate the weather into a delay. But as powerful as he had become, that was still impossible. Though who knew what the future would bring? Godhood was on offer, and he wasn’t going to fail in his quest to attain it.

But the first step was to complete the quest given to him by the annoying little man. To that end, he pulled his attention from the storm in the distance and focused on his most useful ability:

Hunt of the Ancestors

Summon an ancestral spirit to guide you toward worthy prey.

He flooded it with ethera, and a moment later, a wispy figure manifested before him. The spirit belonged to one of his ancestors, yet there was no resemblance apparent. Even if there had been, Thor knew it would have been impossible to detect. The shimmering spirit wasn’t quite formless – the pieces of a human figure were obvious – but anything more detailed than basic shape had been obscured.

Still, it spoke, “You have summoned me again, disrespectful child. Have you not found your prey?”

“Respect is earned, old fool,” Thor spat, gesturing with his spear. “Find the Druid I seek.”

“Very well, whelp,” the spirit intoned, obviously annoyed to have been given such a task. Then, it spun in place before exploding into a hundred tendrils of ethera that sped off in every direction. A second later, one winked out. Then the next. Over and over, they disappeared until only one remained, speeding off to the east. “It is faint, but the Druid’s ripples are in that direction. Summon me again when you fail to follow the trail on your own.”

Then, the spirit disappeared, leaving only that thin thread of power behind. Thor’s grip on his bone-hafted spear tightened in anger, but it was an impotent emotion. The spirit was immaterial, and as such, it was unassailable. In truth, Thor had no idea if it even belonged to his actual ancestor or if it was just a trick of the spell. Whatever the case, it had proved invaluable as he’d spent the past few years hunting progressively more powerful creatures. Without it, he would have been stuck killing whichever monsters he happened to stumble upon.

And if that had been the case, there was no chance he could have progressed so high and so quickly. To reassure himself of his place in the world, he once again summoned the power rankings:

Planetary Power Rankings (Earth)

1. Oscar Ramirez – Level 63

2. Sadie Song – Level 62

3. Thor Gunderson – Level 61

4. Hu Shui – Level 59

5. Niko Song – Level 58

6. Hu Shui – Level 56

7. Elijah Hart – Level 56

8. Anupriya Pandey – Level 53

9. Ram Khandu – Level 52

10. Gunnar Lindstrom – Level 49

11. …

12. …

13. …

His frustration mounted. Both Oscar Ramirez and Sadie Song remained just ahead of him. No matter what he did, Thor couldn’t quite pass them. More than once, he’d considered hunting one of them instead. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d hunted a human; more than once, he’d done so – sometimes, for ethereum, but others because he thought it would be a challenge.

None had been.

Which was both disappointing and reassuring. Even when someone was a higher level than him, his powerful abilities as well as his secret weapon had been enough to see him through. When he’d acquired his Body of Wood, he hadn’t thought it would be so impactful, yet it had proven to be the difference between him and everyone else he’d met. As far as Thor had seen, no one else had unlocked the secrets of cultivation. That gave him an advantage that he intended to use to catapult himself to the top.

That was why he’d accepted the little man’s quest:

A powerful entity has offered you a Task:

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

Obejctive:

Hunt the Druid (Elijah Hart)

Reward:

Blessing of the Gnome, Eason Edmund

The first time he’d received a task through the system, it had given him a potion that he’d used to ease the cultivation of his body. The gnome, Eason Edmund had promised that his reward would be similar, which Thor hoped would propel him to even greater heights.

He just needed to finish the hunt, kill the so-called Druid, then turn his sights on the people who were ahead of him on the power rankings.

Perhaps Elijah Hart would provide him with a decent hunt, but that was a secondary concern. His primary objective was to be the best, to climb the ladder to the top. Everything else came after that.

So, with that in mind, Thor set off across the landscape as he followed the tendril of power the ancestral spirit left behind. It led him along for many miles, through forests and past mountains. Still, he kept going, killing anything that happened to be in his way. Most were worthless in terms of experience, but he killed them anyway. Some, he used for food, but most, he killed for no other reason than because he could. He reveled in the reality that they couldn’t stop him.

Just like the Druid that was his next target.

For two more days, Thor traveled through the wilderness until, at last, he crested a hill and saw a town spread out before him. However, it only took one look for him to recognize that its residents were not human. Short and slim, with pointed ears and an ethereal beauty that even Thor couldn’t deny, characterized them as elves.

Which he found frustrating.

He’d run into a few elves during his travels, and after the initial shock of encountering non-humans, he’d quickly found that they were aloof and judgmental, with an air of unearned superiority that he found extremely off-putting. There were multiple breeds of the creatures, though he’d only met the ones on the lowest rungs of their hierarchy. He’d killed the last group he’d found, though he had no interest in fighting an entire town.

Especially when most of them were likely weaklings that would offer more trouble than they were worth. Still, the thin line of ethera that had resulted from Hunt of the Ancestors was never wrong. Often, it was frustratingly vague. It didn’t point him toward his actual prey, but rather the ripples of his passing. Thor often thought of it as a way to track the consequences of a person’s existence. Those clues would then lead him to his quarry.

So, he had no choice but to head into the elven town and ask a few questions, which was the part of the hunt he enjoyed the least. It was his only way forward, though, so he took a deep breath, then strode forward, using his red-tasseled spear like a walking stick.

His arrival came with some degree of notice, though the elves had clearly had dealings with enough humans that they didn’t give him more than a few disapproving looks. Despite the fact that he wanted to challenge each and every one of them, he ignored their expressions. Instead, he followed the thread of ethera through the town.

As he did, he couldn’t help but notice the architecture, which was oddly cozy, and it was also obvious that quite a lot of effort had gone into integrating the architecture with nature. The houses looked almost like they’d been grown, rather than assembled, and most had roofs made of green sod.

Trees dotted the town, and the people wore rough-spun clothing that gave them a rustic appearance that hadn’t been present with the elves Thor had encountered in the past. Perhaps he’d found a different breed that wasn’t quite as high-and-mighty as their cousins.

Whatever the case, Thor wasn’t terribly interested in architecture or elven culture. Instead, he only cared about finding his prey, and with that in mind, he continued to follow the thread of Hunt of the Ancestors until it led him to a dwelling that was set a little apart from all the others, and in more way than one. First, the style was quite different than all the rest, and it looked almost like a miniature palace, with swooping arches and modest spires. It wasn’t much bigger than a modern home – or modern in terms of the old world – but it was clearly meant to convey luxury. Or perhaps station.

In any case, it was also separated by some distance from the rest of the town, which only served to highlight how different it was. The thread of ethera led directly to it.

Thor strode forward, then banged on the door.

A few moments later, an elf opened the door. She wore a grey dress that, to Thor, clearly marked her as a servant. Or maybe that was her subservient demeanor. Either way, he said, “I demand to speak to the master of this house.”

She blinked, then said, “Do you have business with Master Breeze?”

“I do.”

“Of what sort?”

“The sort that will not be shared with a servant,” he stated. “Now go. Fetch your master.”

She blinked again, then said, “Very well. Wait here.”

Before he could reply, she slammed the door in his face, which irritated him to no end. However, he stifled his anger. Even if he intended to make the girl pay for her impudence – after all, he was third on the power rankings, and he deserved respect – he would not do so until he got the information he wanted. Thor was not so impulsive that he would hamstring his own quest to smother his own anger.

That could come later.

For a few long minutes, he waited, not moving a muscle, until at last, the door swung open. The same servant bade him enter, then asked him to follow. Thor did, and he was led through the opulently decorated house to what was obviously an office of some sort. There, he encountered an elf.

Though this elf was different from all the rest. Where they were short, he was tall. Where they were comely, he was acerbically beautiful. He was clearly a member of the aristocratic breed of high elves.

“A barbarian at the gates. To what do I owe this dubious honor, number three?” asked the elf.

Thor very nearly struck, right then and there. But he wrangled his anger enough to ask, “You know who I am?”

“Of course. We have an up-to-date power ranking list,” the elf stated, steepling his fingers. “Again, I ask – what can I do for you? I have a full line of potions available. Healing. Ethera recovery. I even have a couple of weak potions meant for body cultivation, though I daresay they wouldn’t do you much good at your stage.”

“I don’t want your potions,” Thor spat. “I want information.”

“Ah. That is a product I can offer as well. What sort of information do you desire? Would you like to know about the budding kingdom to the southeast? What of the one thousands of miles from here? Do you wish to know tower locations? I have a map with six of them, though more are discovered each passing month.”

“No. I want to know about the Druid.”

The elf went pale. “Druid? I know of no Druid.”

“You would do well not to lie to me,” Thor growled.

“And you would do well to remember where you are. If you attack me, I can guarantee you will not survive the attempt.”

“Neither would you,” Thor said with all the confidence of a man who’d not known defeat in quite a long time.

“Indeed,” the elf said. Then, he spread his long arms, saying, “But I have no reason to lie. I have encountered no Druids. If I had, I would tell you everything you want to know.”

“Why?”

“Let us just say that alchemists and Druids are rarely allies. They stand in opposition to everything I do. More often than not, that results in irreconcilable enmity. So, tell me – why do you think I have had anything to do with a Druid?”

Thor wasn’t going to reveal the details of Hunt of the Ancestors, so he just said, “I was led here.”

“Ah. A spell, then. Are you a seer? No – not with that spear. Perhaps you were pointed in this direction by someone with the sight. Yes – that makes sense,” the elf stated. Then, he tapped his chin. “I have encountered spells of that sort. They track consequence, yes?”

Thor nodded. That was as accurate a way to describe what his spell did as he could envision. “Something like that.”

“That means your Druid’s actions touched me in some way,” the elf said. Then, after a second, he said, “Ah. That would make sense.”

“What?”

“I sent a team of adventurers out into the wilderness to acquire a powerful natural treasure,” the elf said. “That was some time ago. I assumed they had been defeated by the treasure’s guardian, but now…it is possible that they ran afoul of a Druid. If that was the case, then it is no wonder that they never returned.”

That sounded like a good lead to Thor, especially considering that his spell would not have led him to the elf if he didn’t have a clue. So, he asked, “Where would I find this treasure?”

It would have been easier if he could have used his spell more often, but it was extremely limited in that respect. At present, it took more than a month to recharge.

“That will cost you, my barbarian friend,” the elf said.

“What do you want?”

“The same thing I wanted from the last team I sent – the treasure,” the elf stated. “Agree to acquire it for me, and I will point you in the proper direction.”

Thor grinned. “I think I can work with that. Tell me where to go,” he said. “And I’ll fetch your treasure.”

“Fantastic. My name is Breeze, by the way.”

“Thor,” was his reply.

“Oh, I know precisely who you are, Mr. Gunderson.”