Forged By The Apocalypse - A LitRPG With Draconic Potential

“So,” I panted between dodges, “you’re not going to say anything else about The Tree are you?” A brutal keen split the air as the vicious edge of Nezzerul’s sword ripped through the space between us. I resigned myself to the singular hint of deeper understanding, not willing to lose a limb due to curiosity more than anything. It was frustrating, though.

Aside from the nomad Fae and my tentative familiar back in Ascentown, Steel, conversations about what the System actually was were hard to find. I found myself at the fore of its pressures, blind to the obstacles and dangers coming my way. Not for the first time, I lamented the fact that there were no true guides available to me. Naea was a fantastic repository of information, but she didn’t share on her own and it wasn’t like I knew to ask about things before I had knowledge of them.

Still, I had a new friend to impress. Hassian’s entire existence was intoxicating in its implications. I knew others were facing the challenges of the System, and I knew that it was more than possible for beings from within the System to find Earth. Hell, that was my biggest, overarching worry. The fact that Hassian hadn’t immediately become vicious like a monster would was incredibly heartening.

Perhaps it was possible to peacefully coexist with the rest of the System…

Nezzerul activated a skill and my attention sharped. For the first time, I tested my strength against his. An overhead swing might not have been the best choice to meet, however. The impact of his weapon and the Alternating Armament was a new sensation as I raised the magical item in its shield form and the sword buried itself into the strange metal instead of rebounding. My feet slammed into the stone, chunking some of it away as it crushed to make room for me.

Glad for the additional points in Fortitude, I amplified my strength with Infusion before the next blow fell. The metal of the armament gave way even more, but it held enough. I shoved the massive skeleton back, surprising it with my vast change in power. With an effective sixteen hundred Mental attributes being brought to bear, the difference in our levels was negligible at best. As the sword was pushed back, I lashed out a fierce kick, laced with Strike of the Ruler.

My Dao roared a tempestuous blow as draconic and stormy mana exploded out from my attack. A large chunk of Nezzerul’s armour was shattered by the impact, causing me to gnash my teeth in delight. A moment later, the armour reforged, causing my smile to turn into a snarl. I hadn’t pushed my advantage quickly enough. Worse, it seemed the repairs were just a facet of the armour and not a costly skill.

It was not entirely futile, however. I got a glimpse of the shiny white bone beneath the dark armour, and the strings which held it together. There was a vast network of mana covering every bone, shifting with each violent movement Nezzerul made. I couldn’t watch it for his next move, but it gave me an idea of something that might work against the mighty armoured undead. If physical attacks were ineffective, even blunt ones, then it was time to get mystical.

Dozens of Mana Bolt sprang to life in the air around us, guiding towards the bulwark of bone with a flick of my wrist. Still shocked by my strength, or stunned from the blow perhaps, Nezzerul didn’t even try to dodge. Instead they hunkered down and weathered the blows. My lip curled a little, the barrage not slowing for a moment. It was quite a costly gatling of attacks, and my mana and Dao were still under assault by the dark energy in the boss room.

I didn’t waste time, springing forward and slipping my hand under a slight opening I had forced Nezzerul to show. Before it could react, I gripped a bone and activated Drain. I was quickly reminded of Badaila as a whip of mental pain lashed across my consciousness and threw me back. Unlike the broken world, the energy here was intentful and the resolve within the attack was one of pure malice.

I winced. “That sucked,” I moaned, even as the sliver of strength from the skill slipped into my muscles and bolstered them. The dead power felt brittle and caustic, burning inside my mana channels. I expelled it immediately with another kick to the chest of Nezzerul’s repaired breastplate. So, Drain wasn’t a great option. “Wonderful,” I nodded. Time to find out if it was my only option.

I needed to create space, which was nearly impossible given Nezzerul’s speed. Naea’s webs would have been wildly helpful. Forgiving myself for the choice to have her protect Londimin in my stead, I tried to figure out a plan. Burning my mana to stop the death knight’s movements was an option, but not an appealing one. The Alternating Armament became a gauntlet and I caught the black blade, holding both of us firm.

A strange moment began to stretch out between us. My eyes found a flicker of darkness, even deeper than the black shadows of the sunken skull, and Nezzerul nodded ever so slightly. Amidst the frenzy of our battle, that tiny gesture was a massive sign of respect. I returned the gesture, genuinely thrilled by the acknowledgement of such a fierce warrior. Then, Nezzerul flipped the script.

The dank, heavy mana on the floor bubbled, becoming even swampier and dense. A Dao rose around me, so antithetical to life it started to choke me. I was vaguely reminded of Ewan and his Dao of Murder, but this was so much more pristine. The Dao of Murder was frantic, clawing forward every chance it got and corrupting the man further. This did not feel like the bloodthirsty Dao I had met before. It felt like a strangulation. It felt certain. Nice to finally meet you, Dao of Death.

Showing me just how much I had to learn about fighting, Nezzerul released his sword to lean back and throw a punch which crushed my nose and sent me flying. I had basically acted like the skeleton and the sword were fused and only a quick scramble saved my life as a crunching knee dropped right where my head had been. It was my turn to be held in place as an armoured hand closed around the large hilt of Nezzerul’s sword. The other moved faster than I could react, slicing towards my wrist. I dropped the sword and snapped my hand out of the way.

The grin on Nezzerul’s face had become sardonic. Its face was like a Greek theatre mask, mockery cast in marble. I wanted very badly to smash that skull. “You impress me, boy. Your world has seen much of the System?” I blinked for a moment before shaking my head. I was just glad for the break to recover a little mana. The evil Dao of Death still hung heavy in the air, making it hard to speak. At least, for me. “Truly? Then all the more, your strength is prodigious. It is almost a shame that your story ends here, yet alas and alack, such is life. Or rather…”

I gasped as the pressure on my mind and body multiplied over and over. The Dao which enveloped me was as regal and potent as either of my own, both born from legendary Aspects. If anything, its nobility felt even more overt. Was there a level above legendary, where the primal ideals lay? An Aspect of Bone would probably be common enough, but a true Aspect of Death? The thought contained tantalising reasoning as my own Dao began to buckle under the force of Nezzerul’s. If the skeleton was just playing with a broken toolset, I’d feel better about losing.

Ah.

“You played your hand too quickly, Nezzy,” I tutted. The huge sword which Nezzerul whipped around like it weighed nothing had commanded a lot of my attention. So much, that I had seen only what the skeleton wanted me to see. The armament around my hand slid into its strongest form and I faced the skeleton with a staff, shaking off the illusion it had tried to place me under. Giving up wasn’t in my nature. I had once been called so stubborn I would get myself killed. Probably more than once behind my back. When I recognised that my thoughts had turned to my certain loss, I snapped out of it. Screw saving my energy. This wasn’t an enemy who could be treated with such kid gloves.

Infusion. Infusion. Infusion.

The Dao around me was still real, but I stopped thinking of it as unbeatable. “Damn,” I shuddered, still gathering myself, “that’s some potent stuff.” Thankfully, it was clearly a costly gambit I had just beaten, the dark mist around my legs noticeably less dense. I bounced, shaking off the final shackles of Nezzerul’s illusion. They were strong, but they shouldn’t have been that much stronger than foes I had faced. From the moment I stepped into the mist, I had been under an influence that weakened me.

No more, though. The despairing look on the skeleton’s face remained, but with a simple shift in perspective, it now looked fearful to me rather than sarcastic. I shot forward, sliding easily under the sword. It was just a blade, after all. My initial fear of the weapon itself had been making it more dangerous. For the first time in my life, I thanked a spider. Without the preparation of meeting the spider boss in its lair, I might not have spotted the insidious whispers in my own thoughts.

The next few minutes were a careful exercise in patience. I had rushed forward with confidence a few too many times, and my broken nose was a good reminder that illusion or not, Nezzerul was strong. With their trump card already used, there was no way for the skeleton knight to claw back momentum. I both blocked and dodged his sword in equal measures, peppering him with Drain where I found the opening. With three layers of Infusion pushing me forward, the equilibrium between our attributes was completely broken and he became a punching bag with a sharp stick.

The dark mist continued to disappear as I absorbed it to fuel my own attacks. A little pain never stopped me before, and this was no different. Nezzerul’s illusion, powered by Dao, had made the sensation intensely painful, but now I had slipped past it, the worst effect was the taste of ash in my mouth. I could live with it. Unlike Nezzerul, who slowed with each mouthful of death energy I begrudgingly swallowed with my magic.

“Immaculate,” Nezzerul whispered, finally falling. No amount of damage to the body would keep him down and I had done a lot. As I suspected initially, he was not fueled by stamina, but by the mana in the air. I had essentially performed a magical dialysis on the room, choking the undead. “What is your name, challenger?”

Seeing no problem from sharing, I did. “Grant. Kaeron,” I added, though it felt a little silly.

“Thank you, Grant Kaeron, for giving me a wonderful battle before my eternal rest, and for sharing news with me. Master Mortesax, oh how I hope I was with you as you laid waste to the filthy connector.” Even without my efforts, the death magic in the room continued to fade, like a fire burning itself out. It was all Nezzerul could do to talk at this point, and even that was about to disappear. There were so many questions I wanted to wring from its frustrating skull, but I decided not to ruin the moment. Dungeons were weird, and I wasn’t certain whether this skeleton’s story was even real, but I didn’t see any harm in indulging its last moments either.

“You’re welcome, Nezzerul. There were more generals, right? Were they all as strong as you?”

“Much stronger than me. Stronger than you, beater.” This time, I didn’t take offence. Snorting, I rolled my eyes and crushed the skull beneath my feet, finishing the fight. A flood of experience filled my arms and legs, giving me another level for the dungeon, bringing me to eight from the place, fifty two in total.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” I dusted myself off and turned back to the others. They all looked various levels of shell shocked from the performance, which was about what I had wanted. I had needed to use the Dao of Tempests to protect them from the waves of energy that flowed from our battle, which hindered my abilities slightly. More than anything, it was the undead nature of the foe that slowed me down. Hopefully, the other ones weren’t skeletons either. “Let’s keep moving on, shall we?”

I was immensely grateful for the long walk between room nine and ten. My brave facade would last while remaining calm, but I really needed time to recover my energies after that battle. An even split of 5 points in each attribute made me feel better as we moved down the next hallway and I checked the loot from the first leg of the Elite Dungeon.

Item - Grim Blade of Nezzerul (Rare)

Mortesax had four generals, who blazed the trail for them to scar Ygdrasil itself.

Effect:Mana may be infused into the blade to increase its sharpness

Item - Helm of the Death Knight

While containing no curse itself, this helm has such an ominous aura that you could be forgiven for thinking so. Glowing red eyes not included.

Effect: Fear inducing effects are greatly increased while worn

Item - Shield Of Abandon

From buckler to kite shield, the aim is clear. Protect yourself. However, the creator of this shield felt that offence was a better defence.

Effect: Vitality can be infused into the shield to increase the wielder’s strength for a time.