Forged By The Apocalypse - A LitRPG With Draconic Potential

True emptiness was a mind-breaking thing to perceive. The very idea of perceiving the essence of Nothing was a migraine inducing nightmare, but the pain which exploded in my head as I pressed back against the encroaching void. There was no malice in the infliction of this pain, it simply was. However, those two thoughts wrapped around each other and warped. The nail of agony only tightened my perception, forcing a question into existence.

If this was truly an empty void, then why was Nothing causing me harm?

My Dao exploded in response. The tempest howled, the dragon roared. I howled and roared. There was no delineation in this place. While there was a part of me that found it quite pleasant, existing purely as my own power, the feeling of calm didn’t last. My thoughts rumbled like thunder. Time was impossible to judge, which meant I needed to act now. That thought and many more like it pressed against the dam this place had created in my mind. I had something important to do…

To concentrate, I had to first control that which I could conquer. Recognizing there were no surroundings to influence, I began with myself. I was falling. My Dao rejected this, and I began attempting to exert influence over the emptiness - the Nothing around me. As impossible as it seemed, there was a substance to this Nothing and it pushed back against my attempts. It was this sensation, ironically, which made me sure I was under some kind of assault.

A void held nothing, and my power should realistically press on forever. Instead, my energy felt tightly contained and smothered by an outside force. Following the path of logic my magic presented, I arrived at the only answer I needed. If something was trying to subdue me, then I would shatter the chains it tried to place on me. I pressed against the encompassing boundary, then again, harder.

Again and again, I smashed myself against the hard shell of Nothing. A dichotomy, the Nothing both truly allowed no existence within, yet I persisted. My physical form was nowhere to be found, but that was okay. My body was less and less intrinsic to my existence with each passing day as the core of my being became not flesh and blood, but a tight bundle of magic. My being had been condensed to nothing more than mana, Dao, and the intent behind each of them.

At the centre of that intent was rebellion. I chose to fight, challenge and defeat anything which tried to hold me back. Soundlessly, my mana continued to scream. The Nothing buckled against my retaliation, bending to my will. “Nothing is formless,” I whispered to myself. “Then, if I force form upon it…”

Magical experimentation was, at this point, second nature to me. I shifted and probed, grasped and twisted, manipulating Nothing but creating something. A small amount of mana was drained into the Nothingness, taken from me like osmosis drains water into a waterless area. Petulant, I filled the mana with as much intent as I could manage. The determination to make a place for myself, even in this aggressive void, resolved itself before me.

A tiny white dot, one that would be impossible to see even with my impressive naked eye appeared in the middle of Nothing. I had enforced the creation of space upon this pseudo reality. The tiny dot was empty, but not in the same way the Nothing all around me was empty. The space I made was not intricate, though I got the sense I could create anything in this astral sandbox. Just that minuscule fragment of existence drained a lot of mana, as well as more esoteric energies from myself. My thoughts became sluggish for a moment alongside the magic within.

However, it worked. In short order, I had solid ground to stand upon. Then, I set about creating a form with which to do so. In this place, I was both myself and more. Here, I was the idea of Grant Kaeron. All of the experiences I had been through collected together to form something like a soul but more. Something purposeful. I crafted an avatar in the shape of Me, filled only with the magic I had grasped from the System and then I stepped inside of it.

My physical senses returned as my core nestled into the body I had created. It shone with blue and white magic, faint runes in the mana that coursed through my veins like blood. I blinked, confused and flinching away from a bright light. I threw up my hand to block the beam, but it dimmed only a few moments later. From the direction of the flare, a brittle, familiar, clapping appeared.

I didn’t think. Shooting forward like a cannonball, I swiped at Mortesax’s form. No longer a giant in proportion to me, though still slightly taller, the skeleton slipped my attack like a professional boxer and pushed me back. The tap was gentle, but many miles of space opened up before us. The void had been pressed away with a thought, but not mine. “So, you’re a breaker.”

Mortesax made no move beyond extending the space and speaking. “Nope,” I replied, already shooting forward, “I’m nothing that you think I am.” He might be strong, but this place was not his reality. As the distance closed, I loosed the Dao Avatar of the Dragon’s full strength, wings appearing on my back to push me forward. I blurred, puncturing the skeleton’s protection and landing my first true hit.

My hand was ruined, but I just looked away and shook it. The pain ebbed quickly and I raised a healed fist in the next instant. The only cost was mana and control, which I was getting more adept at by the moment. Unfortunately, my hand was the only thing to take noticeable damage.

“Perhaps not yet,” Mortesax agreed with a nod. “You’re not breaking anything right now except yourself, are you?” There came a sigh, that froze everything with the icy embrace of true death. Had I been alive, and not whatever I was in this place, I would have been killed instantly. Instead, I merely shook the frost away, the Dao used no more potent than my own. “Your potential is great, however. You will stifle, and come to reject the very shroud which obfuscates your power.”

“Okay?” I answered. “Do you have a point?” I already more than had my fill with powerful beings assuming or exerting control over me. If Mortesax wanted to join the increasing list of names that were on my expunge-from-existence hitlist, then it was welcome. The Storm Dragon, that dark, halloween Fae and now Mortesax. A dragon, a fairy and a lich walk into a bar. Ouch.

“The System is a trap.” Mortesax’s words were simple, but with thoughts of Mrs Naebol already in my mind, it was impossible to not recall what she had said to me. The memory was the fuzzy haze of a mind not yet enhanced by the System’s power, but I knew what she was going to say. I ran the words around in my head constantly when I was doubtful.

This isn’t my first go around Grant, and I’m not looking for another. The look in the old woman - the old dragon’s - eyes was one of pure, exhausted sadness. It’s not fair, what the System does to people is cruel. Good people don’t survive long. Ever. The self-destructive thoughts of a suicidal dragon and nothing more, I had thought. However, now…

“And?” I asked, unable to stop myself from being drawn into the conversation. I continued churning the mana inside of me, keeping the pace high and ready, hiding none of the power I gathered to blast Mortesax with. It might pretend to be in complete control, but I had confidence in my destructive power at least. It would leave a scar, or more.

“And I have little interest in cutting short the destiny of a kindred spirit.” When Mortesax spoke now, the voice did not sound like death incarnate, but more like a tired old man. “It’s a strangulation, The System. I spent a thousand of your lifetimes in battle against it and now look at me, a spectre made to dance for its whims.”

Cavarix had suggested something similar in her final words. I wasn’t sure I had been meant to hear them, but now they rang like a gong. May the Tree burn as you discover its secrets. I just wanted to live until tomorrow, and make sure as many other people could, too. I wasn’t looking to tear down an omnipotent control system for the universe, though it seemed that was exactly what Mortesax had tried to do. “You scarred the Tree? Because it’s evil?”

A barked laugh, an icicle traced along my spine. The sinister energy of death surrounded Mortesax once more. “Good? Evil? Well, I doubt your morals align with mine, breather.” Mortesax chuckled again and I wondered if I had just been called a slur by an old racist skeleton. I decided not to push the specific issue. “I scarred Yggdrasil because Yggdrasil is rotten and one day it shall fall, burn and be replaced by Nothing.”

This conversation felt important, even if I didn’t know what Mortesax was talking about in the slightest right now. I wasn’t the only one thinking so. An arc of pink lightning smashed into the ground next to me. “See?” Mortesax’s gaze rose upwards. “The System fears this knowledge.”

I followed its gaze and saw that there was an impossibly large cloud above us. The tempest within me shivered like a leaf. This was no simple storm. More lightning scattered on the plain, unending floor. Sparks of all colours glittered and danced in the air. I flinched at the beautiful display, only somewhat aware of the scope of power being displayed here. The gargantuan cloud above shifted, focusing. The lightning bolts in the air collided, forming a pillar of annihilating light which descended upon Mortesax’s cackling form.

The System itself had come to interrupt our conversation.

From within the blinding, vaguely pink-blue light came the true dungeon boss. Whatever consciousness of Mortesax I had been talking to was gone, and I was left facing only the power that had sent a tremor of fear through Yggdrasil itself. Even with all of the achievements and strength I had gathered, I did not find Mortesax’s power lacking in the least. I cast my analysis onto the monster as the puzzle pieces of the universe collected themselves around me and reality reformed.

The massive banquet hall reappeared along with the four who had been left behind. When I had first tried to examine Mortesax, I had received no feedback, but on pushing an ornate box appeared in the air above the skeleton. However, there was another layer which I could barely see over the top, two names at once.

Elite Boss - Mortesax the Lich - ???

Elite Boss - Mortesax, The End - ????

Praying that the System hadn’t completely broken the game and left me with the more powerful version, I placed myself in front of the others. “Get back. The actual fight starts now.” Much like against the final boss in my first dungeon, the trial of simply experiencing Mortesax’s Dao had been challenging enough. The bravado was gone from the others, and now they just wanted to survive. I erected a Mana Barrier, nodding to the sweating Cal and Hassian.

Now that I looked again, the text box said only Mortesax the Lich - ??? which didn’t give all the answers, but was the same thing that happened to Cavarix mid-fight. The System apparently didn’t want these creatures too dumb, but it had made them slightly too smart to compensate. Even as more and more questions came to mind, I was forced to dodge. A lance of black light punctured the floor at my feet, and the brick crumpled.

The floor disintegrated, and all six of us fell into a more recogniseable darkness.