Path of Dragons

Silvery light shone down on the street between the guild headquarters and the abandoned building as Bruce eagerly watched three groups of seasoned adventurers rush toward the lone figure. Their defenders led the way – two of which held shields, while the other was armed only with a massive sword – while the melee fighters fanned out to surround the man. All three Sorcerers began the process of casting their most potent spells, while the Healers lagged behind. Finally, the two Rangers were the furthest away, ready to pepper the man with arrows the moment the defenders engaged.

It was a standard formation for fighting through the tower, and even if it wasn’t ideal against an intelligent opponent, it had become habit for the members of the Adventurer’s Guild. Meanwhile, Bruce and Mariah stayed far enough behind that they would be able to avoid any stray attacks.

And if it came down to it, Bruce would have time to do what needed to be done. But he wouldn’t commit to that path just yet. He had faith in his people, especially against a singular opponent. Often, he’d claimed that his adventurers could hold up even against those monsters at the top of the power rankings, so he had every reason to believe they could hold their own against the man standing so nonchalantly in front of the building.

“Murder-hobo-ing it is, then,” the fellow said. Then, Bruce felt the ambient ethera swirl.

“Shields!” he shouted.

The Healers responded to his order with drilled quickness, and a series of shields sprang up around them. Then, another set enveloped the Sorcerers, who were the second-most-vulnerable members of the force. The next target would be the Rangers, though they never got the chance for that before the sky opened and lightning forked down from suddenly manifested clouds. Blades of wind cut through his people, kicking up dust and debris even as the earth roiled and broke beneath them.

Shouts of panic filled the air, but Bruce was happy to see that his people kept their wits about them.

A fly bit him in the neck, and he slapped the tiny insect, killing it. “What do you think –”

Another bite. Then another. It was only after the fourth that he looked inward and shouted, “Watch for afflictions!”

As the Healers responded, blanketing the area with curing spells, he drank a potion. Mariah did the same, though she still seemed as calm as ever. “The affliction is not initially life-threatening for anyone above fifty Constitution,” she intoned, still reading from the tablet she’d somehow linked to her powers. Luckily, they were far enough from the localized storm that she didn’t have to shout. “But it compounds. Each instance will do five percent more damage and be slightly more difficult to cure.”

“Monstrous flies?”

“Conjured,” Mariah answered. “More powerful than they should be.”

“Equipment?”

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged. “It is difficult to say for sure.”

Bruce shook his head and focused on the battle. He was horrified to see that the man was gone, and in his place was some sort of scaled monstrosity that looked like someone had crossed a lizard and a sasquatch, with a little bit of gorilla thrown in for good measure. The monster was enormous, and judging by the way it sent his highest-level tanks staggering with every blow, it was ridiculously strong.

More distressingly, when the Rangers’ arrows hit its hide – along with the melee fighters weapons – it resulted in very little damage. “What is going on there? Is that some sort of pet? Where did it come from?”

“That is the man,” Mariah said. “He has a transformation ability, likely associated with his class. By my calculations, he is capable of mitigating up to ninety percent of all incoming physical damage – less if his Constitution is lower than his opponent’s highest attribute – at the cost of stamina.” A fireball from one of the Sorcerers hit him. “And the damage from elemental spells seems to have been cut significantly as well. That, I believe is due to a buff of some sort, though without further observation, I can not say for certain.”

“Dammit,” growled Bruce, watching the man-creature leap over one of the tanks and grab hold of a Healer. Before anyone could react, the foe spun like a hammer-thrower, then launched the healer down the street. The woman flew for nearly fifty yards before hitting the pavement, bouncing a couple of times, and then rolling to a stop. She didn’t move after that.

“What are you orders, sir?” asked Mariah. “There is time to retreat. We can bunker down in the Headquarters. Thad’s traps are still active.”

“The one on the roof was the strongest he could create,” Bruce said. Indeed, the Trapper was one of the highest-leveled members of the guild, and his traps were legendary for their potency. “If that couldn’t take this guy out, then what makes you think any of the others will?”

“We could engage in a fighting retreat,” she suggested. “Perhaps we can exhaust him. Stamina is a finite resource, even if it is not as quantifiable as ethera.”

Bruce ignored her.

Instead, he was doing the calculations in his head. Even if they managed to defeat the creature, what good would it do? The guild’s most powerful members would be killed, which would make the guild vulnerable to a takeover by that idealist idiot Isaiah and his lackeys from Ranier. And they would win, too. Sure, the Adventurers had the advantage now, but it was tenuous. Any losses would affect their ability to maintain control.

But losses didn’t seem avoidable in this instance.

Was it time?

If he took the final step, he’d lose everything. However, he would survive. More, he would kill the man who’d ruined everything. And Isaiah, too, if he was lucky. Maybe that stubborn Gardener as well. All of that raced through Bruce’s mind as he watched yet another one of his guild members die – this time, a Sorcerer was crushed to paste by a series of pounding strikes that looked strikingly like a gorilla attack.

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He glanced at Mariah, saying, “For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to do this.”

“What was that, sir?” she asked, not looking up from her tablet.

“Nothing.”

Then, he used Dissolution.

Dissolution

Sacrifice your entire guild, gaining power according to the number of underlings killed. Gain 5 Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution for every sacrifice. Bonus increases by 35% for every minute active. Maximum effect based on Ethera Attribute. Current: 196 Attribute points in each category. Duration based on Regeneration Attribute. Current: 6.2 Minutes

Bruce had more than five thousand guild members – most of which were comparatively low-leveled – under him, but he would only gain power from twenty of them. Yet, the ability had no degrees. It was all or nothing. Either he sacrificed every member of the guild, all at once, or none of them. There was no in-between. No half-measures. And while so many of those deaths would be wasted, the ones who did count toward the buff would give him the power to overcome the enemy.

All around him, his people fell. Dissolution didn’t instantly kill, so the monster-man finished a few off before the rest lost their lives. As they did, Bruce stepped forward, an influx of attributes crashing into him like a runaway truck. He staggered under the increased power, but more distressingly, he felt his muscles bulge to ridiculous proportions. His clothes ripped to pieces as he grew, both in bulk as well as height, until he was even larger than his chosen enemy.

He flexed his fist. “I could get used to this,” he rumbled as his tattered clothing fell away. Then, naked as the day he was born, he stepped forward, his footfall loud in the suddenly silent street.

* * *

Elijah stared in horror at the transformed man. He was enormous – at least fifteen feet tall, and as muscular as any bodybuilder – but his body was asymmetrical. One arm was almost a foot longer and far bulkier than the other, and he moved with a limp because his legs followed the same pattern. A huge lump of muscle grew from his back, looking like a tumor and giving him the appearance of a hunchback.

He was also quite hirsute, putting Elijah in mind of the missing link between humanity and its prehistoric predecessors.

But Elijah was more concerned with the fact that the entire group of Adventurers – eleven that were left – had simply keeled over and died. He knew it wasn’t the effect of his Swarm, either. As powerful as his afflictions were, there was no evidence that they’d had a chance to build so effectively.

That meant something else had happened.

“He used an ability,” came Isaiah’s voice. “We knew Bruce had it, but I never thought…”

The man stepped forward, and Elijah asked, “What does it do?”

“Increases his attributes…by…a lot. According to my surveillance, he sacrificed every single guild member for a temporary boost in power. They’re all dead. Almost five thousand adventurers,” Elijah heard through the earpiece. “You should probably run.”

Elijah had no intention of doing that. He’d fought people with high attributes before, and he knew he’d have to do so again. So, without further hesitation, he charged the transformed man.

He hit the monstrosity with a shoulder tackle that knocked him back a few feet. However, for Elijah, it felt like he’d just rammed an immovable rampart. Despite his momentum, size, and incredible Strength, the maneuver was completely ineffective. Bruce shouted something unintelligible, then snapped out a punch that sent Elijah skidding backward. Because he’d had Iron Scales active, it was only marginally effective. Yet, Elijah had discovered a few things about the ability.

It was incredible against piercing and slashing attacks, but it was less effective against blunt force. It still stopped plenty of damage, but some of that momentum still went through his hide to wreak havoc on the more vulnerable bits beneath his scales.

Regardless, Elijah took the blow in stride, then leaped back into the fray. As he did, he saw that a thorn had pierced Bruce’s forearm. It hadn’t gone more than a quarter of an inch deep, which told him that Bruce’s Constitution was at least as high as his Strength.

For the next minute, they traded blows, and Elijah felt confident that they were fairly equal in terms of power – which was frightening enough – but just as the fight passed the one-minute mark, Elijah started to get the worst of each exchange. The fight continued, and the thunderous punches began to take a toll.

Finally, a hit landed that sent him tumbling backward into the remnants of a wall. When he crashed into it, he was buried in dislodged bricks and mortar.

“What the hell?” he muttered, climbing free from the pile of rubble. “Is he getting stronger?”

“I think so,” Isaiah said. “Like I already told you – you should’ve just run.”

“I think you’re right,” Elijah said, already initiating a shift into Shape of the Sky. The man was strong, but he couldn’t fly. That gave Elijah the escape route he needed. Once Bruce saw Elijah’s transformation, he charged, but the metamorphosis completed before the giant, misshapen man arrived. So, without hesitation, Elijah leaped into the air.

Bruce roared, picked up a giant hunk of cement, and threw it at Elijah. By that point, he was a few dozen feet above the ground, but he was incapable of dodging the boulder that moved at the speed of a bullet. It hit him in the leg, throwing him off balance and sending him plummeting back toward the ground.

Where Bruce waited.

Eliijah knew he had not chance of survival if the monstrous man managed to get his grubby hands on him while he was using Shape of the Sky. It had no real defenses, and given that even when using Iron Scales in the Shape of the Guardian, he’d taken damage, he knew precisely what would happen.

So, he beat his wings to slow his fall, then initiated another shift.

Not into the lamellar ape form. Nor did he adopt the draconid form. Instead, he returned to his human shape and cast Storm’s Fury. The lightning bolt descended, hitting the giant man directly in the forehead. It didn’t do much, but it stunned Bruce for just long enough to keep him from latching onto Elijah.

He hit the ground hard, his already-injured leg crumpling under him. But he didn’t let that stop him. Using one facet of his Quartz Mind to cast Soothe, he used another to prepare Snaring Roots. One cast followed the other, and even as blessed relief flowed through him, his other spell erupted into being, manifesting a tangle of thorny vines that wrapped around Bruce’s legs.

Elijah leaped away – mostly one-legged – and cast Healing Rain. But Bruce was already ripping free. Snaring Roots had rarely functioned as more than a delaying tactic, and with the man’s augmented power, it was barely even that. But it did give Elijah the chance to cast two more spells.

Touch of Nature added its effect to Soothe and Healing Rain, while Shape of the Predator transformed him into a draconid. If he couldn’t outmuscle the man, then he hoped to outmaneuver him. Nothing was better for that than Shape of the Predator.

Once it took hold, he darted to the side, ready to fight the battle on completely different terms.

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