All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Book 5: Wing Purple (1)

Arthur and Brixaby lifted into the air, and the rest of the wing followed . . . as an ungainly mob.

We’ll have to work on that, Arthur thought.

Being purples, no one was in danger of running into one another.

Everybody stayed respectfully back and allowed Brixaby and Arthur to hit the portal first. The transition was as smooth and instant as ever—no awkward conversations with a rower. That was a plus.

The first thing Arthur noticed on the other end was that this eruption, thankfully, was not occurring in the middle of a city. Forest stretched out in every direction, broken up by meadows and fields. And off in the distance stood a mountain chain with white-capped peaks. He wondered if they were in the territory of Wolf Moon Hive.

Unfortunately, not only had it happened more quickly than the seers had foreseen, there seemed to be a delay in reporting to the hives. The cone was already huge and reached high into the sky.

In the air, more portals were only beginning to open to disgorge dragons from other hives. But the ground was black with scourglings in places, and it was expanding like a giant wave.

They had the shape of praying mantises: long bodies, tiny heads with clicky mandibles, and scythe-like arms. At a glance, he saw that they had already overrun several farms.

There was no hope for the people inside.

Meanwhile, there were other farms farther out that still had a chance.

Normal scourgling behavior was once they were blasted out from the eruption cone, they would strike out on their own and seek out prey. Sometimes, a few similarly powered scourglings would hunt in small groups.

Come to think of it, it was a lot like normal dragon behavior if humans weren’t directing them.

The scourglings from this eruption seemed more group-minded than usual. The faster ones hung back and waited for the others so that they moved forward as one unit. From up high, it was like watching ants exit a disturbed nest. The wave of the scourglings moved through the forest, visible as dark patches between trees. There were so many that the foliage trembled with their passing.

Dragons from all the hives dived down from the air, raking them with spells and casting elemental-based effects. A few briefly landed to fight on the ground before taking off again. But there were so many scourglings that as soon as a few dozen were mowed down, more came in from right behind to replace them.

Arthur saw some dragons from other hives immediately exit their portals and dive down to go harvest a patch of scourglings that had just been hit by a long-range fire effect. They must have had flame-resistance cards. Meanwhile, they completely ignored other scourglings that were running around the affected area and continuing forward. They only wanted the shards.

Brixaby twisted his neck around to look at Arthur, and he realized he had been squeezing the neck ridge hard in anger. He gave his dragon an apologetic look and patted the ridge. “Sorry, Brix.”

He didn’t seem to care about the ridge. “What do you want to do?”

Arthur nodded and focused on what he could control. He needed to be a wing captain now.

Twisting in his seat, he glanced behind him to make sure the last of his wing had exited the portal. That would be Steve and Bolt, Candy Floss and Thackeray. The Commons emerged a few moments later . . . and Thackeray looked patently ridiculous standing in air with Candy Floss in his arms. He was also horribly exposed. Thankfully, none of the scourglings were the flying type or showed long-ranged magic.

Arthur signaled with a sweep of his arms for his wing to follow. “Brixaby, let’s go to the east. I see some farms a bit before the leading edge.”

Brixaby peered ahead. As a dragon, his far sight was much better than Arthur’s. “Yes, there are smokestacks and people running back and forth. They are afraid.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“They should be—they’re about to be swallowed up by scourglings,” Arthur said. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”

They weren’t the only ones who were headed in that direction. Other dragons wearing the Strawberry Moon insignia were already in the area and were busily attacking scourgling scouts—larger, Uncommon versions of the wave type.

One turned to hiss at Brixaby, but another stopped him and said “Purples.” And they turned away.

Clearly, they weren’t worried that their prey would be taken from them. In the distance, Arthur spotted darts of color as other purples, in singles and in pairs, flitted around to find people.

Arthur bent low to speak quietly to Brixaby over the rush of wind. “Try to stay away from any with the Wolf Moon insignia.”

With his illusion card hiding his appearance, Brixaby might not be recognized, but it would be a very bad thing if Jo or Tess saw Arthur.

Griff and his trailing purples moved on to one side of Arthur, and Sunny moved to the other side in a standard arrow break formation.

The next farm came up over the horizon. It was a handsome, prosperous place—several large buildings grouped close together with adjoining fields. Likely families or friends had all banded together to cut out some profit from the forest.

The fields were well tended. The livestock was fat, though currently panicked, rushing back and forth in their pens. They weren’t the only ones. Men and women sprinted between the houses, exchanging news and pointing up at dragons in the sky. Some of the older buildings looked like they’d crumbled recently, probably due to the shaking from the eruption.

It looked like the single purples from the other hives had not gotten here yet.

Arthur and Brixaby were the first to land, and several people immediately rushed up to him. One woman tried to push a screaming baby in his arms.

“Please! Please, dragon rider! Save my baby! He’s my only son!”

“Keep him,” Arthur said. “We’re getting you all out of here.”

But his voice was drowned out by different, heart-breaking pleas.

Normally, people were wary of the dragons to the point of fear, but oncoming death lent a lot of bravery. More people rushed up, begging for them and their loved ones to be saved.

For a moment, it seemed that Brixaby was about to be swamped, but he was not a cuddly, kind-hearted purple who would allow that. He extended all four wings and swung his head, hissing low like a snake and showing dagger teeth.

Suddenly, he had room all around him.

The rest of the wing started to land, and Arthur cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “One adult or two children per dragon! We have enough dragons to get everybody.”

“Dragon rider,” one man called.

He looked enough like the peasant man, Kirun, that Arthur did a brief double-take. Then he realized they were just dressed similarly, were of the same age, and had the same desperate look in their eyes.

“Dragon rider,” he said again. “There’s so many dragons in the sky, is there any way our farms can be saved?”

Reluctantly, Arthur shook his head. “No, the scourglings are minutes away, at best. We’re doing what we can to stop them, but the cone is too close. I’m sorry.”

He really should have known that. This close, the cone dominated the entire skyline directly to the west, but he didn’t blame him for hoping.

The man’s face crumpled, and for a moment he looked like he was going to burst into tears before he got control of himself, nodded, and turned to the closest purple to get a lift out.

“But what about my husband? My sons?” a panicked woman yelled.

Arthur turned to her. She was yelling at Griff, who already had a child loaded up, and a teenage boy getting on behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Griff was saying in a placating tone of voice. “These are as much as my dragon can take, but there are more landing in a few moments. Please just back up and wait your turn.”

In the chaos, he wasn’t understanding what the woman meant, but Arthur knew.

“Where are they?” he called.

She turned to him, desperate. “They went out hunting in the forest, yonder.”

She flung a hand out farther to the east. That meant that they were farther away from the leading wave of oncoming scourglings, but they would also be hard to find.

Arthur took a swift look around. More purples were still landing behind him. Too many. He hadn’t started out from Blood Moon with this many. Had he somehow picked up extra purples on the way?

Nearby, one tiny purple landed in front of a girl no older than five years old. He bent before her. “Ride Squeaky! Ride Squeaky!”

The girl, who didn’t seem to have any parents around her, must have had pony riding lessons because she mounted the dragon with little hesitation and a lot of confidence. The tiny dragon took off with her, and in a moment, she was in the air and safe.

Even more purple dragons landed, all riderless. There were more than enough for everybody.

Arthur made a snap decision. “Sunny,” he said, halting her just as she was about to land with her purple Commons in tow. “We’re going to get some stragglers in the forest. Follow me.”

Brixaby jumped up in the air, and Sunny’s dragon immediately followed. By her yelp, she hadn’t been completely ready for the jump back into the sky.

Brixaby arrowed straight for the forest, and Arthur closed his eyes. He really hated to do this—he didn’t want to see the result—but he knew the quickest way to find the missing hunters.

He accessed his Call of the Heart and focused all of his will and desire on finding those strangers.

A map appeared, and he felt his stomach sink all the way down to his toes. It had picked up all of the lost humans in the forest. There were quite a lot of them.

They were scattered, too, possibly panicked and running for their lives, trying to outrun the scourglings. Maybe they could if they had a physical card enhancement. He would just have to hope.