Path of Dragons

Book 3: Chapter 87: A Dragon's Command

Book 3: Chapter 87: A Dragon's Command

Eason Edmund sat at his desk, examining a crystal. It was a synthetic treasure created in one of his mineral gardens, and even though it was barely more than Simple-Grade – as such things were measured – it emitted a power that would nearly rival that of a wild natural treasure. Still, he wasn’t happy with the result. He knew his people could do better. With how many coins he’d sunk into the project, they needed to – or he would lose everything.

Not soon. It would take centuries before the bill would come due. But it would come eventually.

“It is passable,” he said, looking up at the Minerologists. He’d raised the pair from childhood – not personally, obviously – ushering them to the Scholar archetype, then pushing them into the rare Minerologist class, all in the hopes that they could help the Eason family climb to new heights.

Most factions did so by colonizing newly integrated worlds, but that was a time-consuming and financially debilitating tactic. For one, simply reaching those new worlds was expensive, but sending a force large enough to make a difference would bankrupt all but the wealthiest families in the empire.

That was why most turned to mercenary companies like Black Sky, who had been granted special dispensations by the Cult of the World Tree. Or they sent their least talented youths, a tactic which was rarely successful enough to rely upon. Still, if a settlement gained a foothold in such worlds, the benefits could be vast.

Of course, those worlds faced many challenges of their own. Most ended up being excised from the World Tree’s influence and left to drift into the void. Or they were converted into Ancestral Realms. But the ones that survived the trials before them played host to powerful natives with many advantages that made them difficult to dislodge, even when so many rewards were on offer.

To Edmund, it had always seemed incredibly unfair. Artificially propping up the weak until they could stand up to their betters benefited no one. Better that those natives bend the knee to someone who could protect them, who could usher them to true power, who could show them how the multi-verse worked.

The World Tree and its damnable cult had other ideas, though, and just like everyone else, Edmund had no choice but to abide by their rules.

So, without the wealth necessary to send multiple expeditions to newly touched worlds, all in the slim hope that they could survive, he’d turned to the idea of creating his own treasures. It wasn’t an unheard-of method. In fact, it was quite common. That was what classes like the various flavors of Farmers and Horticulturists did, albeit on a broad and comparatively weak scale. Yet, those synthetic treasures could never benefit anyone above the Mortal rank.

Sure, that was the beginning, but there were countless means of progressing through those levels and preparing to become one of the Ascended. Yet, after that was the true bottleneck, and the difficulty of progressing after that point was why the order of the universe rarely changed. The powerful remained powerful, and the weak continued to muck through whatever scraps they could find.

Anyone with the ability to grow synthetic treasures that could rival the power of equivalently graded natural treasures would upset that balance. They would rise to the top and carve out a place for their followers. For those on the bottom rung of the multiversal power scale, it was the only way forward.

“What level have you reached?” he asked.

“One-hundred and two,” said the one on the right. Edmund had never bothered learning their names. He rarely did, even with his own family, much less a pair of orphans with potential. Once they Ascended and realized some of that potential, he might deign to learn their names.

Maybe.

Definitely, once they reached the Demigod stage. He might even invite them to supper if they matched his own Deity stage. But he wouldn’t serve them anything remarkable. They were mere commoners, after all.

“Twenty-three more levels,” Edmund said, tossing the valuable gem onto his desk. It slid across, then came to a stop only an inch from the edge. The two Minerologists both had to suppress gasps. To Edmund, it was trash, but for them, it represented the culmination of years’ worth of labor. Such small dreams. “Report to Elder Rahm. She will create a training plan to push the both of you to Ascendency. After that, perhaps you will be able to create something worthwhile.”

“Pardon, Grand Master…”

“What?” he asked.

“Will we be required to enter…a tower?” asked the gnome on the left. She was pretty enough, and once she reached a proper stage of development, she might even be beautiful. He would keep an eye on her.

“Of course. Killing those monsters in the tower is the most efficient means of leveling,” Edmund stated. “I will –”

The world shook, cutting him off. The two weaklings screamed in unmitigated fear, clutching one another as if it would do any good. For his part, Edmund spun up three spells, adding a defensive ability to the mix. Ice encased his body, forming into a suit of armor that tripled his size. Then, he dragged a wand from the storage pouch at his belt, ready to respond to anyone who would dare threaten his world.

Not so much because he cared about the place. Or certainly not the people who called it home. Rather, because he could not be seen to allow such an affront to his authority. That would invite challenge, and after spending so much of his power to offer that oaf a quest to avenge his idiot great grandson’s death, he was disgustingly vulnerable.

Cabbot had been a moron. He’d thrown a century’s worth of planning aside in an effort to forge his own path. Edmund could have respected that if the idiot hadn’t gotten himself killed. And as with a threat to his planet, Edmund couldn’t allow the murder of a member of his family to go unanswered.

But then the barbarian had actually failed, creating a backlash that worsened Edmund’s weakness. As a result, he was weaker than he’d been since he’d reached the Deity stage more than a century past.

Still, he could deal with some uppity…

The shaking abruptly ceased. The pair of unbalanced Minerologists fell to the floor, scuffing the tiles. Edmund had obliterated people for less, but he stayed his hand. Instead, he cast his senses across his lands, finding a disturbing absence.

It was one thing if a fight was imminent. Edmund had come up the hard way, scratching and clawing for every level he gained. So, he was prepared for a battle. However, the lack of any obvious threat was disturbing in a way that no enemy could be. Because it represented two options, both of which were terrifying.

While Edmund tried to wrap his mind around what either of those possibilities might mean, the door to his office swung open. He was about to tell his servants off for interrupting him when a vision of beauty glided through the door.

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She looked human.

Mostly.

And while Edmund wasn’t normally attracted to such gangly creatures – give him a proper gnomish wench any night of the week – he could not deny the woman’s striking appearance. It was real, too. No illusions. No glamours. Just simple perfection.

Golden hair fell upon slim shoulders, framing a visage that was both delicate and commanding, in equal measure. Her eyes were lined in what looked like golden makeup, but upon further inspection, Edmund realized that it was decorated with tiny, glittering scales.

He whispered, “Oh, gods…”

Similar scales created a pattern on her neck that fell down to her breastbone. And though Edmund suspected that they continued across her torso, the woman’s white robes prevented him from confirming those suspicions.

She stepped forward, her movement somehow sinuous, and gave him a slight, knowing smile, “I do not require your worship, Eason Edmund. Just your obedience.”

“Transcendent.”

“Indeed,” was her reply. “I apologize for any disruption my arrival might have caused. Veiling my presence is impossible while traveling through the World Tree. A hint of my power peeked through before I could corral it. I will, of course, pay appropriate reparations, should you so require.”

“Ah…that is not necessary, your eminence,” he said after finding his voice. He let his Ice Armor fall away, lest he offend the powerful visitor.

“Nonsense. Have your accountants send a bill to my seneschal on planet Sethik,” she said. “That is inside the Empire of Scale, of course. Certainly, you will have no trouble finding it.”

Edmund dipped his head in subservience. “As you wish, your eminence,” he breathed as confidently as he could manage. However, his heart beat out of control as he faced someone who had reached the pinnacle of measurable progression. How far behind that she’d manage to climb was anyone’s guess. Certainly, he lacked the ability to discern the details. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from using Icy Gaze. The results were disturbing:

It had been some time since Edmund’s identification spell had failed so spectacularly. And given that it had only provided basic information, and incompletely at that, that was the only way to label it. However, even that tiny bit of information was enough to give a lesser gnome a heart attack.

He’d known she had reached the Transcendent stage. That was obvious from the moment he’d laid eyes on the woman.

Or dragon.

He’d never met one in person, but everyone had heard the stories. And Edmund was no exception. Now that he’d seen one, he felt that the descriptions were woefully inadequate. Rumor said that, as they progressed, they gained the ability to refine their secondary form. Clearly, this Kirlissa had a soft spot for humans, and had chosen her form accordingly, though with some nods to her draconic race.

“Tell me, Eason Edmund,” she said, her voice losing that small hint of kindness it had possessed only a moment before. “Are all gnomes afflicted with such a blatant disregard for common courtesy? Or is it just you?”

It took him a moment to recognize his error. For so long, he’d been at the top of the heap. The king of the hill, so to speak. That meant that he could examine anyone he wished to inspect, and with as much scrutiny as he liked. However, doing so in the wider multi-verse was generally frowned upon.

He prostrated himself, apologizing profusely. “I meant no disrespect, revered elder,” he pleaded. “A bad habit, nothing more.”

“Arise, gnome. You mustn’t lose face in front of your…subjects,” she said, glancing at the pair of cowering Minerologists with a flash of disapproval. Edmund understood that much, at least. They were truly disgusting things, wearing no better than Simple-Grade clothing.

He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his own Sacred-Grade robes. They would have been Deific, but finding a Deity-Stage crafter was almost impossible among his allies, and none existed within his realm. It was one more reason he needed to create more growth.

“May I offer you some refreshments? A slave or two? We are –”

“I need nothing from you, gnome,” she said. Her eyes flashed reptilian for the briefest of moments, then returned to a more normal human appearance. “Save for one thing.”

“Say it, and I shall endeavor to make it a reality.”

“Good. I am pleased that you are so eager to make amends.”

“Amends? What have I done to offend you, Transcendent one?” he asked, his mouth going dry.

“You do not know?” she asked. “Did you not wonder why your great grandson spent a small fortune to hire ritualists from a group of known adherents to the Church of the Ravener?”

“Devourers?”

“The worst sort,” she answered.

“I knew nothing of this. The boy was headstrong and stubborn. He left the family years ago. Last I checked, he’d joined a mercenary group and headed to some backwater world on the frontier.”

Suddenly, all the air left the room, and an immeasurable pressure descended on Edmund. “Do not lie to me, child,” she said evenly.

Then, the pressure disappeared, and the air returned as if it had never been gone. It had only lasted an instant, which normally would have been no threat to Edmund’s endurance. Yet, he found himself gasping for breath.

It didn’t help.

The monster before him wasn’t simply one step ahead of him. She was practically a different species. Often, his people referred to him as a god, but Kirlissa was as far ahead of him as he stood above even the lowest peasant who’d barely begun on the path of cultivation.

“By the time I found out, he was already dead,” he admitted.

“Yet, you intervened on a newly touched world. You offered a quest.”

“It is my right to avenge my descendant’s death,” he said quietly. It was barely more than a whisper, but it was backed up by his considerable will. He looked up and into the dragon’s eyes. “That is the way it has always been done. I broke no precepts. I did not descend upon the planet myself. I did everything by the book.”

“Indeed,” she said, stepping forward. She was only a couple of feet taller than him – short by human standards – but with that footfall, she seemed to grow. “I must ask you, then, how I should respond to the ancestor of the gnome who abducted my daughter and attempted to drain her essence as if she was a natural treasure?”

“W-what?”

Kirlissa’s hand shot out, faster even than Edmund could track. Before he knew it, she had him by the throat and held him aloft. He didn’t need to breathe much, but having her hand – no, it had become a claw, golden scaled and powerful beyond measure – around his neck was nearly enough to elicit panic. “My. Daughter,” she growled, enunciating the words very carefully. “A mere child, barely more than a hatchling. The Druid you attempted to have killed saved her from that fate. Then, he killed your pitiful descendant like the affront to nature he was. He was acting on my behalf. If you take issue with that, then you are more than welcome to address your concerns with me. Would you like to do that, Eason Edmund? I am here to meet your challenge, should that be the path you desire.”

“N-no…”

“I can’t hear you,” she said, pulling him closer.

“I do not!”

She dropped him. “That is good,” Kirlissa said, the feeling of looming power falling away. When it did, she felt no larger than when she’d first entered the office. “Then I must request that you push your grudge against the Druid aside.”

The threat in that command was clear. If he attempted to harm the Druid again – even by proxy – he would incur the wrath of a Transcendent. Which was suicide. If Kirlissa was truly angry, she would destroy the whole planet. Perhaps the entire system.

And no one would step up to stop her.

Because no one who cared about him, his planet, or the system to which they were attached was powerful enough. As unfair as it was, Kirlissa could do whatever she liked, and no one would challenge her.

So, he bowed his head and said, “As you say, honored dragon. I will leave my grudge, here and now.”

“Good,” she said. “Then I shall take my leave.”

With that, she simply disappeared as if she’d never even existed. Panting, Edmund struggled to calm himself until he noticed the pair of Minerologists still cowering on the floor. They both looked at him with wide, tearful eyes.

They had seen everything.

His weakness. Tales of his own cowardice, understandable though it was, could not spread.

“Pity,” he said. “I had such high hopes for the two of you.”

“Master, I –”

The once-promising Minerologist never got the chance to utter a full sentence. Instead, her head was pierced through by a spear of ice. Then, her partner’s head exploded under similar force.

With a sigh, he just shook his head. Now, he would have to start all over. No matter – he’d lived for thousands of years. What was a few decades’ delay, really? On the scale of one who’d reached the Deity stage, it was no more than the blink of an eye.