14-82. Unleashing the Dragon

“Don’t take victory for granted. Palir es Umbranix is a capable opponent.”

Elijah stared at the floor, cycling his plan through his mind. “Anyone who could make it this far is capable,” he countered Birk’s point. “I know that.”

The big drake grunted, then resumed pacing. With every fight Elijah had won, Birk had given him a little more respect. He still wasn’t an equal. Or even someone Birk would consider worthy. Instead, he was something like a promising novice. But considering where he’d started, Elijah would take that assessment.

But the fact that he was pacing like a caged animal told Elijah that Birk cared more than he let on. And it wasn’t just because Elijah was his student. It went deeper than that.

It was almost heartwarming.

“Is Sara here?” he asked.

“She is in the stands with Tura.”

“How is she?”

Three days had passed since Elijah had completed his cultivation session, but he still hadn’t seen his adopted sister. Partially, that was because there hadn’t been much time. But it was also because he didn’t know what to say to her. After all, Skahan’s violation of Kaela had echoed Sara’s own trauma. It wasn’t as overt, but there were enough similarities that it assuredly left a mark on her psyche.

Elijah wanted to help her. He needed to comfort her. To protect her. She was so vulnerable. But he didn’t know how to help, save to enact his plan. Perhaps that would give her some peace of mind.

Given her personality and the fact that she was also a dragon, he expected as much.

“She is well. Oddly subdued, of late.”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“I am always subdued.”

“Only to those who don’t know how to translate grunts to real words.”

Birk grunted dismissively, but he offered no other retort. For the next few minutes, the pair existed in silence that didn’t break until an attendant came to fetch Elijah.

He followed her in silence, oddly relaxed for a man about to go into battle. Part of that came from confidence, not in his technical abilities, but rather, in his will. He would not allow himself to lose.

Elijah didn’t much care about the tournament itself. Sure, the levels he gained from each victory came in handy. And he wouldn’t turn down the reward, which was the opportunity to use one of the most potent cultivation aids in the entire Empire of Scale. The First Fang would doubtless grant him the fuel he needed to push his core to the next stage.

Yet, Elijah’s motivation had never been tied to external rewards. He liked loot and progression as much as the next guy, but his goals were more personal than that. He fought because he needed to fight. He won because winning was better than losing. And in this case, he would defeat Palir es Umbranix because he was in the way.

After the Chronomancer created his anchor, Elijah approached the door separating him from the arena floor. He could feel the power in its construction, the absolute artistry in a simple door.

He ignored it, his focus coming to a sharp point.

The door opened, and Elijah stepped forward. As he did so, he allowed himself to take on his draconic form. The crowd gasped as his emerald scales flashed in the afternoon sunlight.

Was it bad form?

Did it break with custom?

Elijah neither knew nor cared. It was what he needed to get through the fight, and with only three fights left, he had no reason to hold back.

His dragon form took up a lot more space, but the arena adjusted with him. The floor which had once measured only a few hundred yards across grew to half a mile wide. Elijah hardly noticed. Instead, he only had eyes for his opponent.

Palir es Umbranix’s humanoid form was tall and willowy, like a whip ready to strike. His purple scales gleamed dully, absorbing most of the light. Otherwise, he looked no different than a hundred other dragons Elijah had seen. Handsome, certainly. Preternaturally so. But that tended to lose its value when it wasn’t unique.

The dragon cocked his head to the side, clearly surprised at Elijah’s form. He offered no other reaction, clearly choosing to remain in his humanoid shape.

The Curator hesitated for only a moment before launching into the introductions. As he did so, Elijah gathered ethera, funneling it into three spells. He couldn’t cast before the battle began, but he could compound them as much as the time would allow.

The effect of his grandmaster soul was immediately noticeable. The spells flowed faster and far more easily than ever before. So, when the Curator announced the beginning of the fight, they had compounded into considerable power.

Yet, Elijah didn’t release them.

Nor did he move.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Instead, he simply waited.

Palir disappeared, just as Elijah had expected from someone with an assassin’s build. Still, he remained motionless, the spells roiling within. Palir must have found Elijah’s actions – or lack thereof – curious, because he took far longer than expected to attack.

But eventually, he struck.

Elijah felt him an instant before the attack landed. In that time, he released all three of his spells.

Even as the dragon’s spear slid between Elijah’s ribs and destroyed a handful of vital organs, Bough of the World Tree settled onto him.

Since the first time he’d used the spell in battle, Elijah had spent quite a bit of time testing it and exploring its best uses. It wasn’t just a heal, but also a defensive ability that would build with each attack he sustained.

Palir’s spear erupted into an explosion of shadowy ethera that ripped through Elijah’s insides like they were made of paper. Bloody, meaty paper. Yet, the initial heal provided by Bough of the World Tree fought the damage to a standstill.

That clearly surprised the draconic assassin.

He pulled back, ready to hit Elijah again.

That was when Elijah released the second spell.

Lightning, each bolt as thick as Elijah’s claws, lanced out in a circle around him. A handful slammed into Palir, sending him into brief convulsions and stopping his attack cold. The second bloom soared through Elijah’s wounded torso, mending more damage.

Elijah still didn’t move.

He didn’t need to.

Instead, he followed Lightning Domain with Eternal Plague. The spell had only been building for a couple of minutes, but the effect of Tura’s tutelage combined with his grandmaster soul was obvious in the spell’s expression. Millions of glittering flies erupted from his mouth before descending upon his stunned foe.

To his credit, Palir reacted quickly, disappearing entirely.

Elijah had expected as much.

That was why his current plan hinged on a tactic with which he’d become intimately familiar. Overwhelming power.

Even as Bough of the World Tree continued to bloom, Elijah endured three more attacks. They did progressively less damage as his body grew an extra layer of bark-like ethereal constructs. In the meantime, Elijah continued to fill the arena with Eternal Plague. Millions became billions until their true number was uncountable, even for Elijah.

They swirled around him, blanketing the entire arena in swarming flies.

Then, they found the invisible Palir.

Elijah felt it like a light breeze upon his mind, and he focused on the handful of flies that had brushed against the dragon. He was all the way on the other side of the arena, crouching near the wall and entirely dependent on his stealth skills to keep him hidden. And they did.

The flies had found him by chance. Or rather, because they covered every inch of the arena. There just wasn’t anywhere to hide.

Elijah commanded his conjured insects to attack, and they responded to the order like the mindless creatures they were. Uncountable flies swarmed Palir, who abandoned his stealth after only a few seconds.

He became a whirlwind of attacks, destroying huge swaths of the manifested creatures.

But some got through.

And that was enough to spell his doom. Over the next few minutes, he made a heroic effort, deploying multiple widespread attacks that cut Elijah’s swarm down to size. But for every fly he destroyed, Elijah replaced it with two more from the ongoing spell.

Soon enough, Palir slowed. More flies descended upon him, biting and inflicting their deadly afflictions upon him. He continued to fight, eventually sprinting across the arena in a last-ditch effort to end the source of his pain.

Elijah watched as he stumbled at the halfway mark.

He remained stationary as Palir continued his staggering charge.

The other dragon hit the ground, skidding across the fly-covered sand. The remaining insects swarmed him until there was a mound of writhing, glittering flies nearly ten feet tall.

It took an entire minute for Palir to die. By that point, his flesh had turned completely black, rotted from the inside out as the potent venom overwhelmed his defenses.

Elijah never looked away.

He refused to move.

Not until the Curator announced his victory. Only then did Elijah turn away, resuming his human form as he stepped through the arena’s exit.

Elijah didn’t bother stopping next to the Chronomancer. He remained unhurt, and he was in no mood to have someone look him over. Instead, he headed back to the staging room and changed out of his armor.

He was just pulling his shirt on when Tura, Birk, and Sara arrived.

“Hey,” Elijah said, looking directly at Sara. “How are you doing?”

She didn’t waste any time verbalizing an answer. Instead, she threw herself forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. Then, she punched him in the chest.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” she shouted.

“Do what?” he asked, enduring another few blows.

“You just left! I thought you were gone! Mother told me you were cultivating, but…but…you don’t get to just leave me like that! Not without telling me where you’re going!”

She spat the words rapid-fire, punctuating each exclamation with another punch. Finally, he caught her wrists and turned it into another hug.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t –”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to worry you,” he insisted. “I just…I had a lot to deal with.”

“So did I.”

That hit Elijah like a punch to the stomach, and he just hugged her more tightly. “I’m sorry. I really am. I should have been there for you.”

Of course, his precious plan wouldn’t have allowed that. He’d already cut it close, and he didn’t think it would work without advancing his soul cultivation. But the reality of it was that he’d used it as an excuse to separate from the world.

And brood.

He was good at that.

Usually, it was a perfectly acceptable response to trauma – at least as far as he was concerned – but now, he had other people to think about. A fragile, traumatized sister who needed him, for one.

He’d failed her.

Sara pulled away. “You know you’re going to have to make it up to me, right?”

“Whatever you want.”

“When you go back to Earth, you have to take me with you.”

“Uh…I don’t think that’s allowed. You have classes at the academy. And I’m pretty sure…Kirlissa would frown on that.”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s my price. You get to figure out the details,” she said.

Elijah glanced toward Tura and Birk, who both pointedly looked elsewhere. They had no intention of helping, the traitors.

Still, it was a pleasant problem to have, and he hoped it would make for a good distraction from what was to come. After all, his situation hadn’t really changed. He still had Skahan to deal with.

But for now, he could play the part of the doting brother.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out,” he said. “But in the meantime, let me tell you about a dragon named The Mountain…”