Path of Dragons

Book 8: Chapter 1: Defeat in Victory

Elijah sat atop the high-rise overlooking the fallen city of Hong Kong. It was the second tallest building in the city, so it offered a fantastic view of the destruction wrought by what most people referred to as the apocalypse. Elijah disagreed with that label, regarding the touch of the World Tree as a good thing, but as he stared at the aftermath, his hold on that belief wavered.

So much had been destroyed. So many lives had been lost. And yet, humanity had survived, albeit only in pockets. Small settlements – usually no larger than a couple of blocks – dotted the city, and a much larger community had taken up residence in Hong Kong’s tallest building. Once known as the International Commerce Center, it was now Heaven’s Bastion, and it played host to a population of thousands.

Including his friend Sadie Song and her problematic family.

But at the moment, Elijah knew that if he dwelled on those issues for even a moment, he would do something rash. Every instinct screamed at him to go back and return their insults with utter destruction. And he could do it, too. He wanted to. In a lot of ways, he needed to.

There were only two factors restraining him.

First on the list was Sadie herself. If he went on a rampage and turned Heaven’s Bastion into another Easton – or whatever silly name their despotic ruler had given it there at the end – she would never forgive him. More likely, she would oppose him. Elijah had no desire to fight her, largely because even if he won, as he suspected was the most likely outcome, he’d lose a friend along the way. He didn’t have so many of those that he’d willingly sacrifice one just to assuage his pride.

The second restraint came from the surety that he would regret such an action. He wouldn’t shed any tears for people like Nico or Tianwei, but there were plenty of innocents in Heaven’s Bastion. He couldn’t put them at risk. He refused to fall into that trap, even if his instincts told him to disregard those people as inconsequential.

Perhaps that was the dragon him, screaming at him to assert his dominance. More likely, it was the simple consequence of setting himself so far above normal people. It was difficult to look at them the same way when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was unequivocally better than them, and in almost every possible way.

That was the thing about the system and its numbers. It left little doubt as to a person’s relative place in society. Sure – levels were just guides that marked a person’s progress, but the numbers attached to his attributes were concrete measures of his power. On top of that, he had his cultivation, which was far more advanced than that of anyone else he’d met.

Because he didn’t want to feel like he was better than others. He wanted to act like he was just like everyone else.

He wasn’t, though, and he needed time to wrap his mind around the idea that he couldn’t just follow his instincts and vent his frustrations. There could be global consequences for something like that. Instead, he needed to adapt to who and what he had become.

But even more importantly, he knew he needed time to cope with the death of his friend, Dat Bao, who’d sacrificed himself so Elijah and his other companions – one of which had never treated him with anything approaching respect – could live. He was a true hero, and the world was a worse place for his passing.

After almost an hour sitting atop that building and staring at nothing, Elijah finally turned his attention to another important matter. The conquering of the Primal Realm had not come without rewards. One was material – all Elijah needed to do was acknowledge the notification, and he’d receive his reward for overcoming the challenges of the Desolate Reach. But the other was more intrinsic. He’d gained two more levels in the final battle, putting him at one-forty-six.

That meant he’d gained another ability – either through the evolution of an old spell or an entirely new one. So far, Elijah had been too focused on other things to acknowledge it, but now that he had a little peace and quiet, he could do just that. So, it was without further ado that he looked at the notification and the new spell that came with it.

It came with a trait as well:

Elijah let out an appreciative breath. For a long time, he’d wondered if he would gain an ocean-going form. The Shape of the Master, which was amphibious, helped a lot with traveling underwater, but it seemed the new form was, as the trait implied, a true native to the sea. Already, he was itching to try it out, though he knew that doing so in the undead-infested waters surrounding Hong Kong Island was a bad idea. Perhaps it would be powerful enough to withstand the mighty creatures that made their homes in places like Victoria Harbor, but Elijah wasn’t going to chance it with a new form of unknown strength.

Still, it was tempting.

To distract himself from those temptations, Elijah focused on the other notification informing him that he’d conquered the Primal Realm:

Elijah selected the affirmative option, resulting in yet another system prompt:

As he read the notification, Elijah looked at the chest that had suddenly appeared by his side. Instead of being silver, as had been the case with the boxes containing rewards for overcoming towers, it was gold with blue trim that created whirling designs that Elijah recognized as runes. Even trying to follow their patterns gave him a headache, so he didn’t hesitate to open the box and retrieve the item inside.

It was a helmet, though one with an unfamiliar design. Made of hardened leather, it featured decorative whorls that had been etched into its surface. More importantly, it practically glowed with dense ethera, suggesting that it was an incredibly magical piece of equipment.

But Elijah knew better than to simply bind it without having it appraised. Once, his sister-in-law Carmen had been forced to forge a powerful sword for an enemy. It had turned out to be cursed, and it had infected the man’s mind with delusions of grandeur that, ultimately, helped author his demise.

So, he slipped the helmet into his Ghoul-Hide Satchel, intending to have someone appraise it when he returned to familiar territory. Perhaps Atticus could help him. Or someone in Ironshore. Whatever the case, the item wouldn’t offer him any help for what he planned for the near future.

After Elijah had inspected his gains – noting that the two increased levels had given him the same attribute increases he’d come to expect – he pushed himself to his feet, then retreated inside the building. Night was coming, and he didn’t intend to set out on his mission when the local undead were at their most active.

Once he’d found an old, abandoned office with a sturdy and intact door, Elijah settled into a corner and inspected his updated status:

His numbers had become truly impressive, and not for the first time, he marveled at how far he’d come. It hadn’t been that long ago – somewhere between six and eight years, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed – when all of those numbers were in the single digits. And the first time he’d ever opened his status, his Constitution attribute had been at a meager one point.

But back then, he was literally dying, so perhaps that was appropriate. Now, that attribute was his highest – at least when he was buffed. It would have been satisfying if not for two issues. The first was relatively minor, but he still mourned the loss of his Armor of the Boar King, which had been so damaged that it had finally lost any efficacy. The Leatherworker back in Ironshore who’d made it had warned him that it might happen, and it had held up far longer than he had any right to expect. Yet, it was still a disappointment.

The other issue was far larger.

Dat’s death kept ambushing him. Every time he let his mind wander, it was there, leaping out at him like a hunting predator. And when it did, he was overcome with grief and guilt. The former was an understandable human reaction to loss, but the second was a little more nuanced. Part of it was simple survivor’s guilt. He knew enough about psychology to recognize that much. However, the other piece of it was that he felt guilty that he wasn’t giving his grief prominence in his mind. Every distraction was an accusation that he didn’t care enough.

None of it was rational. Elijah felt certain that he couldn’t have done much more than he had. But grief, for all that it was a vital part of the human experience, was rarely logical.

For most of the night, Elijah remained awake as he wrestled with those feelings, but eventually, he drifted off to sleep. That was a testament to his exhaustion. After all, his time in the Primal Realm hadn’t given much opportunity for rest, and he had been going almost non-stop for weeks even before that. Sure, he could go without respite for a long time, but eventually, it would always catch up to him.

So, when he slept, he went down hard, only waking around noon the next day.

When he did, he took almost an hour to get going. He did some calisthenics, stretching sore muscles that protested the poor treatment of his body, then partook in a meal of dried pork and a grove fruit. He barely tasted either. Even when he made a cup of coffee, drinking it didn’t cheer him up.

Finally, Elijah decided that it was time to move on. So, he gathered what few things he’d taken from his Ghoul-Hide Satchel and headed outside. After shifting into the Shape of Venom, he adopted Guise of the Unseen and began his descent. He was so used to being able to stick to most surfaces that he never even considered braving the building’s interior. Instead, he descended along the outside of the high-rise.

Along the way, he regretted that he couldn’t use Shape of the Sky. He could probably manage the dangerous flying creatures that populated the city, but doing so would have brought a lot of extra attention. In addition, if he was forced to escape, he’d need to use Lightning Rush, which would send him far afield. That wasn’t part of the plan, so he stuck to the ground.

Going through Hong Kong was much the same as it had been before he and his companions had conquered the Primal Realm. There were a couple of key differences, though. First among them was that the undead seemed far less densely packed. There were still a lot of zombies around, but the more powerful unliving monsters were much less prevalent.

The most troubling part of the trip out of the city was that, though the levels of ambient, death-attuned ethera had dropped significantly in the wake of their efforts, he could already feel that they were once again on the rise. Only a day had passed, and the cycle had resumed.

That told Elijah that conquering the Primal Realms was not a permanent solution. It was like bailing water in a sinking ship. Sure, it kept them afloat – for now – but overall, it wasn’t nearly as effective as their level of effort should have dictated.

For now, though, it was all they had. Maybe the decrease in danger – even if it was temporary – would give the residents of Hong Kong the room they needed to grow powerful enough to meet the challenges ahead.

Those thoughts and many more accompanied Elijah as he trekked through Hong Kong, crossed the causeway leading to the mainland, and eventually, left the city behind. Once he felt secure, he shifted into the Shape of the Sky and took to the air. As he did so, he spent some time reveling in the freedom of flight before finally focusing on the mission at hand.

He wanted to build a dolmen so he could easily return to the city if necessary, and to do that, he needed to find the proper location. So, in service of that goal, he began his search.