Forged By The Apocalypse - A LitRPG With Draconic Potential

If anyone deserved an apology it was Tom. Well, he deserved more than that, which is why I allowed him to lead us towards the training grounds. He looked frayed somehow, close to an edge. There was a rigidity in his gait which reminded me of someone being trotted to an authority for a dressing down. I floundered, attempting to find a simple conversation with him but the tension in his body and the badly hidden trio following us made it difficult.

I looked at his face. He wasn’t a model, but the System had smoothed out some of his sharp angles and strengthened his weaker features. There was a small white line on the bridge of his nose, a pre-system artefact as scars were hard to come by these days. He wore glasses that fit his face well, and that they had survived the chaos of the System spoke to his careful nature. I couldn’t remember if he was wearing them when we met, or if he had been keeping them in his inventory.

There was a lot I didn’t know about him. Or any of my “allies.” Were any of them truly less alien to me than Steel, when it came down to it? This wasn’t about me, though. I glanced over my shoulder and with an audible cry, the other members of The Ascent dove behind a house. The only one not visible was Luke, but I expected he was following. He just had more skill than the others. They were all just kids. Far more than me. At least I’d experienced living alone and fending for myself. Well, I thought, taking care of myself has been second nature for longer than the System has been here.

While he was a locked safe when it came to his emotions, I could hazard a guess at my role in his angst. Tom instantly locked onto me and my abilities, more than the others. While the quartet shadowing us had seen me as someone who got lucky, Tom saw a benchmark. Then I went and sprinted ahead. Not that there was an alternative, but I had been so focused on my family that I ignored my friend.

And now, he was halfway broken and doing his best to break the other half.

“So, what’s the new Aspect?” I pushed through the thick molasse of awkwardness and asked the question which had been burning me. Tom’s Dao of Magic, even while it was still an Aspect, had carried a powerful signature. There was a wonder apparent in every skill he used. His mana didn’t just move, it danced. Now when I looked at it, the energy seemed to be stale, for lack of a better word. Instead of his mana flowing naturally and whimsical, it was primed for action at all times. He was burning himself down from the inside.

We continued walking and my question remained in the air. I could swear I heard Tom’s teeth grinding. Is that something people actually do when they’re angry? Eventually, he grunted a reply, though it was a question itself. “You can’t tell?” The tone in his voice sounded mostly surprised, with a hint of accusation.

“I could,” I admitted, “but you’d feel my mana rooting around and I don’t want to do that. I want to know what’s going on with you.” The temptation had been there during our brief collision of Dao a short while ago, but I refrained. I cringed at the memory now, knowing there were much better ways of doing things than shouting at a crowd.

“Just get in the arena,” Tom demanded before shooting off to the other side himself. I didn’t feel dismissed, though. There were certain things that could be expressed through combat more easily than words. Tom’s magic, and no doubt his mental state, were such esoterica. Taking up positions, I was surprised to see there were people already in seats. Then I saw Naea fluttering around taking bets of some kind and couldn’t help but laugh. Tom followed my eyeline. His face darkened as he called from a good distance away. “This is a serious fight, Grant.”

“I don’t control Naea,” I shrugged, “is the audience a problem?” So, this was a fight, then. Until Tom called it out, there was always a chance he wanted to use the training grounds for their normal purpose. I admitted to myself this was definitely wishful thinking as I cracked my neck. I hadn’t been planning on a serious fight today.

“Not unless you want to keep your pride,” Tom retorted. Two Dao surged from Tom, the mana released mingling together wonderfully. My eyes widened in surprise as the strength grew over and over, far surpassing that of a Dao pool and an Aspect. As the Dao of Magic surged around the arena, another Dao settled everywhere the first one touched. The power which came from Tom was clearly not even as simple as two Dao Pools.

Ah, so that’s what he meant when he asked if I couldn’t tell. “You couldn’t tell that it’s not just an Aspect?” I had so consciously avoided trying to analyse Tom’s energy that I hadn’t sensed his growth. He had gone from a single pool of Dao to a true system, something internal which matched my own Avatar and Font. That might have something to do with his mood.

Still, he had issued a challenge, which was now a public one, and I would meet it properly. He had threatened my pride, after all. My aura billowed out like a wave of smoke. More than a few people in the seats coughed a little and I knew some of them would be feeling faint right now. Tom just looked pissed. Feeling I now had his tacit approval, I analysed his mana and aura even as I began my attempt to subdue it.

There was a permanence in his mana, now. It wove into the air around him, a heartrendingly beautiful ball of magic forming at the end of his staff. I flicked my wrist and the Alternating Armament became its most used form. Armed with a staff of my own, I smashed at the Mana Bolt, taking my biggest baseball swing. When my “bat” collided with the “ball”, I was the one launched. Instead of dissipating, the energy had impacted like a cannonball.

Not bad. Not bad at all. There were no more words to be said, and Dao infused magic started flying wildly. With such a crowd here, I couldn’t help considering how it looked from their perspective. Without Manasight, or my own Stormborn physiology, what did they even see? I knew a Mana Bolt was visible but, for most, it would be nothing compared to the gorgeous nebulas I was able to see. Using my advantage, I focused on the Mana Bolts themselves.

Flashes of light appeared in the air, then around each flicker of energy a ball of mana covered it like gel. They looked like Mana Bolts, but there was something different about them. Instead of a singular strike, this time came a salvo. Intrigued but with no real sense of danger, I brandished the Alternating Armament and activated Infusion, expecting to bat the attacks away. Instead, the dozen or so blobs of mana stuck fast to the weapon. I reacted just in time to keep my hand as I dropped the staff, but the following explosion rocked me and I was flung into a wall.

Above the crater I made in the solid rock, the crowd whooped in delight. They liked Tom, after all. He didn’t seem to be hearing it. I didn’t bother playing up the damage, however. The only casualty of the attack was my thin shirt, so I tore the strips remaining away as I stalked forward. That also got some whoops from the crowd. The more durable Adept Bottoms were barely singed, the damage repairing in real time. I removed the shirt so it wouldn’t drain mana to repair.

Now I had the measure of his Dao, I felt confident. “It’s not Time,” I shouted over to Tom, “but it’s something related to it.” The attacks weren’t bad, but nothing Strike of the Ruler couldn’t deal with. When the next salvo arrived, it met my own Dao and shattered. I walked towards him at an intentionally ominous pace. Tom growled in frustration and took it up a notch.

He held his staff in the air, energy gathering. Except not at the top like usual, but at the bottom. I resisted the instinct to jump as Tom plunged the weapon into the ground. I doubted Tom could outright kill me, and any other damage could be repaired. I would be able to analyse the energy within the attack easier if I took it head-on.

When did I become that used to pain? Wondering at myself, I felt the magic latch onto my ankles. A trapping spell? I pulled at my feet but even with nearly three hundred effective Fortitude, the magic held strong. A scroll’s worth of symbols appeared around my feet and up my legs. Impressed, I looked up from the intricate glyph around each ankle. The spell had a clear way to break it. If I dumped some mana into the complicated formation, it would shatter, but that would also come with backlash. A very clever use of magic which was hard to overcome.

Infusion.

Instead of magically breaking the lock, I magically roided out. With a single infusion, I simply ripped through the powerful bonds. My next footstep fell on another trap sigil. With a heave, I stepped forward again. Another trap. It felt like I was walking through thigh high water, but didn’t stop. Doubling up, Tom launched a barrage of solid Mana Bolts, not the explosive ones, but the more traditional bolts which hit like a truck. “Damn, man,” I cursed as I was forced to punch one away with a bare hand, “how high is your Mental attribute?”

His reply was a redoubling of his efforts. Both of his Dao burned violently. As I saw before, Tom was fraying. He burned and was using more power than he safely could to try and harm me. With a shout, he unleashed a new technique. His mana coursed towards me like rivers, breaking the ground of the training arena as it leapt at me. Like so many vipers made of light, the attack shot forward with impressive speed. With Infusion still burning, I slipped around the attacks with ease.

Giving up on subtlety, the mage pointed his staff at me directly. The aura of energy at the tip became absolutely deadly, carrying a healthy dose of the secondary Dao. “Ah,” I whispered, “it’s Eternity.” As mana continued to gather in a spiralling orb at the end of his staff, I planted my feet. Tom was putting everything on the line, dangerous or no, and there was only one way to respond to that.

Full power.

———————————————

It was so frustrating. It brought tears to my eyes and a nail formed horizontally in my throat. Wave after wave of techniques, chunks and portions of mana that weren’t regenerating as quickly as I needed, every ounce of willpower I could bring to bear. I used every tool I had obsessively trained over the last months. Yet, those inexorable footsteps continued to approach me regardless. When I decided to absorb the Aspect of Eternity I thought it would bring me closer to Grant’s strength, yet nothing could be further from the truth.

I hadn’t slacked in the month or so since we left the Dungeon that Grant had been found in, but the gap still widened. I roared and waved the Archmage’s Answer at this approaching demon. An unending stream of skills leapt from the end, halting Grant from drawing nearer.

Item - Archmage’s Answer (Epic)

Most wizards choose to be buried with their staves, as the weapon often begins to hold Intent. Then, there are those who throw these soulbound weapons to the ether of the Great Connection and hope for the best. Are you the best?

Effect: Skills and Spells cast with Archmage’s Answer as a conduit are influenced by Intent. Skills and Spells based on Mana Control or the Mental Attribute become much easier to learn.

The staff was precious to me. Given to me by a quest in the first dungeon I had done, I had never even spoken about it to Grant. I was incredibly protective of the weapon, an insidious twitch in my thoughts that said if anyone knew how potent it was, they would take it from me. Grant in particular would be incredibly well matched to such a weapon. Without it, I would be completely left in the dust.

Fear and rage bubbled up, turning the cool mana of my attacks into more violent form, from icy blue to a vicious violet. “No!” I shouted aloud, unable to stop the words from spilling out, “it’s not FAIR!”

The System had come along and made the entire world scary. The bullies and jerks who I used to put up with could now punch through actual concrete. They didn’t make lockers strong enough to hold me in, but I bet they would eventually, and I refused to go back to an existence even approaching that pathetic mess I used to inhabit. For a time, I had been special. Almost no one could do magic at the beginning of things, after all. Even now, most didn’t spend their way through the headache required to learn it.

Everything had changed for me when Jason entered that stupid dungeon and got himself killed. Swapping a happy-go-lucky fool for the severe and domineering Grant was just a bad trade. I followed him, as I always did with someone I found interesting, only to find the thread severed when I thought we were equals. Even as my mana drained, so did my anger.

That wasn’t fair to Grant. I knew that, and I didn’t care. Nothing had been fair for months, probably longer. For every step I took forward, Grant seemed to do a whole sprint. How could anyone keep up? What were we meant to do?

A balloon expanded in my chest, and I could feel my mana channels rupturing with the force of the attack. My mind had spiralled into complete self-destruction and I knew without a doubt that I would die once my mana was spent. That was okay. Nothing lasts forever was the phrase which evolved my Aspect to Dao, after all. The Dao of Eternity ruffled itself and I had to chuckle. I may not be eternal, but the end was. Anger at the entire crazy world focused to a sharp point and I roared, voice a fever pitch. “Just! Die!”

Everything froze, reality snapped into a singular position and stayed exactly where it was. Except, it wasn’t everything in reality, was it? It was just me, my mana and Dao that stilled. An iron fist had clenched around me and made it hard to breathe.

“Me?” Grant’s eyes found mine and the dual colours within seemed to ignite. “Die?” The sky above, visible through the open roof of the training arena, began to darken quickly. A flash of light was immediately followed by a boom that cracked in time with Grant’s next footstep. The already heavy sensation of his energy became backbreaking, the sky itself dropping onto my back. “I didn’t realise it was that kind of battle.”

Helpmehelpmehelpme. Although I was the one gathering power, I felt terror. I prayed to gods I didn’t believe in, hoping one would hear me. He’s going to kill me. I’m not ready to die, there’s so much more to do. I want to see a beautiful magical world. I was unable to stop the process at the end of my staff now, but somehow I knew my attack would never unleash. My arms felt weak, my head light. It was all too much.

This world can be magic. That had been the first truth I had grasped, the one that had taken me from an Aspect to a Dao of Magic. All at once, I realised just how foolish I had been focusing my gaze on the back of someone like Grant. My path was never to stand next to him, I knew now. As I looked up into the raging storm cloud above, I knew my path was simply to watch this amazing world continue to change.

Shame I had to die to figure it out.

—————————————————

Infusion. Infusion. Infusion. Harmony Of The Storm.

I mustered the most powerful set of buffs I could place upon myself without doing long-term damage. I was sure I could outlast Tom if I tried to dodge his upcoming attack, but I couldn’t say no one else would get hurt if I did. Better to calm him down quickly and take the pain, especially given what he was doing with his mana channels.

The clouds high above crackled with thunderous potential as I plunged my Dao Avatar Of The Dragon into the power of the Font of Tempests. The pair of Dao joined together and became more than the sum of their parts. I gathered my full power. Facing Tom’s wild gathering of power, I thrust my hand forward. With a grimace, I shoved my hand directly into the centre of the gathered energy. This was the quick and dirty way to finish things. The light rain that pervaded my inner world, the calm state, was cast away. Every raindrop was now a thunderbolt, and the world drank that power in with a mighty roar.

“Enough.” My voice, amplified by about five different effects at once, my single calm word sounded like a decree from a higher power. In a lot of ways, it was. The weight of my Dao seemed to make everything else less real, less durable. At the tip of Tom’s staff, a catalytic orb of mana sizzled. I clenched my jaw in pain and closed my fingers around it. With a grunt, I snapped Tom’s connection to his spell.

As I expected, he was only being kept upright by the energies he was chanelling. As the spell broke, Tom fell to the ground like he was switched off. After checking his pulse and confirming he hadn’t burned the candle out all the way, I picked him up. As I scooped him from the ground, I was met by Naea to help with healing and a member of the mage squad which Tom led. “He’ll be fine,” I told the both of them, “he just needs… a lot of rest.”

He wasn’t the only one who did, but he was just a kid, even compared to me. He had wound himself into knots trying to do more than he could and at least part of the blame was on me. I handed him off to the young mage girl and turned to the crowd. They were unsure how to respond. Only now did I recognise the fearful silence around me. A thought came to mind, and I waited a few seconds to see if a better one would come. When it didn’t, I threw my hands into the air.

“Give it up for Tom, my first challenger!” A confused spattering of claps met my words. Not surprising, considering that was anything but a friendly contest. Thankfully, Naea had turned her Fledglings into battle maniacs, and I would lean on that. “Anyone who thinks they can land a hit, come at me!”

Of course, this had not been the idea, but this would hopefully make it seem like we had both wanted to fight, instead of just Tom. It didn’t matter if people saw the animosity on his face, so long as they didn’t think this was a challenge to my leadership. We simply didn’t have time for such a thing anymore. To my joy, multiple Fledglings dropped into the arena, along with two faces I recognised from Newtown. I made a mental note of the Fledglings for special treatment later, while turning to the other two feeling nothing but confusion.

That was Frederick and Gaz, wasn’t it?