Path of Dragons

Book 4: Chapter 68: A Druid's Duty



Book 4: Chapter 68: A Druid's Duty

Book 4: Chapter 68: A Druid's Duty

The mighty boar lay on its side, its chest heaving with panic. Eyes bigger than volleyballs twitched back and forth, evidence of the animal’s ongoing terror. Foam collected at the corner of its gaping mouth as it hyperventilated, letting out rumbling snorts with every breath. Laying his hand on the enormous beast’s side, Elijah felt its knotted and cramped muscles.

But within the oppressive grip of exhaustion, it couldn’t move more than a few inches. Every second or two, tiny collections of diffuse ethera swirled as it attempted to reactivate its protective ability. But there wasn’t enough to fuel the skill. That had always been the plan, but there was a distinct difference between what he’d imagined and what he now saw before him.

The terrified and terrifying beast was helpless.

And when Elijah looked at it, he couldn’t prevent tears from gathering at the corners of his eyes as his thoughts surrendered to pity and guilt. The first, because of how far the creature had fallen. It wasn’t difficult to imagine that, before it had lost its treasure, the guardian had been a noble and mighty protector not unlike the panther that had saved Eliijah’s life so many times. That one event could send it careening into madness, subverting its nature so thoroughly that it was indistinguishable from a monster, was horrifying.

It was also a grim reminder of Elijah’s own past.

He hadn’t been so different after discovering his sister’s death. He’d slaughtered hundreds. Perhaps thousands. And he didn’t even have the excuse of madness. He had been fully in control. Or he should have been. Yet, he’d let his anger and grief drive him forward until he became a monster in human – or draconic, given the nature of his transformative shapes – form.

Would someone have been justified in putting him out of his misery?

Maybe. Valoria was a cesspool of all the worst facets of humanity, but did that give him the right to slaughter so many? He wasn’t sure. And that retrospective uncertainty fueled his doubts that had given way to shame. He was too strong to give in to those sorts of impulses. He needed to be better. Under more control. Otherwise, he would end up just like the boar.

The shame of his past mingled with the guilt he felt for effectively torturing the beast before him. Elijah didn’t know what people felt under the influence of Debilitating Roar. Was it a formless fear? Or was it more specific? Did it dredge up memories? Or was it completely arcane in nature? He wasn’t sure, but regardless of how it presented its effects, the ability had pushed the boar into a place of undiluted terror so potent that, in trying to escape, it had run itself to exhaustion.

He sighed.

There was nothing else to be done. There hadn’t been much of a choice. If the beast had been allowed to continue its rampage, thousands of people would have died. What’s more, animals – be they guardians, monsters, or normal beasts – could gain experience as well. So, with every death, it would have grown stronger, making it even more invulnerable.

On top of that, putting the boar out of its misery was the right thing to do. It was necessary. It was just.

It was mercy.

Yet, it was a joyless act. A necessary but repulsive action that could not be avoided.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he said. The creature flinched at the sound of his words, but it was too exhausted to do more than tremble a bit. Still, Elijah tensed as well, ready to spring away at the first sign of recovery.

He knew he was on a timer. With every passing moment, the boar would recover some of its energy. But more than that, Elijah didn’t want to prolong the beast’s suffering any longer than necessary. So, without further hesitation, he drew the knife he’d gotten from Lars and leaped upon the creature’s shoulder. The weapon had been enchanted with a Hunter’s skill that was supposed to make it better for dressing animals. Elijah hoped that would be enough to allow it to get through the beast’s thick hide.

When he reached the boar’s thick neck, Elijah knelt. And without further delay, he reared back and plunged the blade into the creature’s bristly hide. It parted the skin, but only went an inch deep. That was within Elijah’s expectations, and he once again stabbed into the same wound. The dagger bit a little deeper, this time, eliciting a trickle of blood. That trickle became a river with the next stab, though Elijah knew it was nothing compared to what flowed through the beast’s enormous body. So, he kept at it.

The process was not pretty.

Nor was it heroic.

It was messy and traumatizing, eliciting a stream of tears and coating Elijah in dark red blood. Yet, he continued. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t stop. Once begun, he had no choice but to keep going. And he did. Over and over, he hacked into the creature’s neck until, at last, he found an artery. It spurted pressurized blood in a fountain of red, the intensity of the flood increasing with each pump of the boar’s enormous heart.

Only then did Elijah stop.

The mighty boar was already dead. It just hadn’t realized it yet. Elijah stood, his cheeks stained with blood and tears.

Even then, he could have saved the beast. A few casts of Touch of Nature, and the bleeding would slow. He could have healed the rest of the damage, though he suspected it would take almost all of his ethera. And for a brief moment, he considered it. Perhaps he could heal its mind, too. Maybe he could banish the madness that had gripped it.

But he knew that was a pipe dream.

The beast was too far gone. And the price of failure was too high.

So, climbing down, he circled the boar until he reached its head. Once there, he laid his hand between its eyes and used flared One with Nature. Just as had happened with the panther, he formed a connection with the beast. However, unlike the island’s guardian, the boar’s thoughts – which Elijah could only feel in the form of impressions – had been shattered into a million pieces. None of them were pleasant. Instead, there was loss. Confusion. Fear that had nothing to do with Debilitating Roar. And anger. It all coalesced into something Elijah could only call madness.

There would be no recovery for this beast. Touching its mind was just confirmation of what he had known from the very beginning. But Elijah still maintained the connection, trying to convey calm thoughts to the animal as blood gushed from the wound in its neck.

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“It’s going to be alright,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s over. You can rest now.”

The boar didn’t hear him. It was too far gone, its mind too broken. The words were as much for Elijah’s benefit as to comfort the beast. Minutes passed, and the creature’s stamina returned enough for it to briefly resume its shielding ability. However, it lasted only a few moments, and it did nothing for the continued blood loss.

Finally, after half an hour, the boar’s eyes glazed over. Its muscles went slack, and its jaw fell open. At last, its struggle was over.

With dried boar’s blood covering him, Elijah collapsed to the trampled grassland and spent the next few minutes just staring at the ground. He’d killed so often that he thought himself accustomed to taking lives. That was true in the heat of battle, but executing the boar was different. He knew it would stick with him for years to come.

After a little while, Elijah pushed himself back to his feet and steeled himself for the next step in the process. The boar was the highest-level creature he’d ever seen, which meant that it was a treasure trove of usable materials. Its meat alone was enough to feed a village for months, and that was saying nothing for its durable hide, dense bones, and useful organs.

Some people might’ve considered harvesting the animal to be distasteful, but Elijah saw it as the height of respect. The Mongolian hunters had reaffirmed that when they’d done the same with their fallen horses. Killing a creature and not using it was wasteful. Honoring the beast by putting its body to use was better.

So, armed with his skinning knife, Elijah went to work. Now that the boar was dead, its hide was a little easier to cut, though he wasn’t certain if that was because the effect of the boar’s Constitution was less efficacious or if the knife, being put to its intended use, was more effective. Either way, easier didn’t mean easy, and skinning the beast proved to be the work of an entire day.

Then, he started to butcher the body. Thankfully, Elijah had plenty of experience processing various animals, so his work was efficient, with large hunks of meat being piled onto the overturned hide. Still, the beast was so large that the process took another day. Being in the middle of winter, it was well below freezing, so there was no chance of spoilage.

Next came the bones. Elijah didn’t take all of those. Instead, he only took the largest pieces. He didn’t know what good they would do, but he felt certain that a crafter like Carmen could make use of the powerfully dense material. And finally, Elijah took the brains and fat.

The process had taken nearly four days, but at last, he was finished. The carcass that was left was a pitiful thing. There was still some meat left. The same was true of some of the less useful organs.

Looking upon it once again made Elijah’s eyes water, but he quickly dried them. The deed was finished, and there was nothing else to be done. So, he tied the hide into a huge sack he could carry – the bundle was comically large, but it didn’t weigh as much as some of the stones he’d toted. Then, Elijah stripped off his soiled clothes, sprinkled them with some cleansing powder and set them aside. After that, he summoned Healing Rain, and, using his soap, washed the dried blood away.

The shower was cathartic, though without his Cloak of the Iron Bear, he keenly felt the bite of the winter morning. That felt appropriate as well, almost as if he didn’t deserve comfort after such a distasteful act. The idea that he needed to endure a penance was ridiculous. He’d only done what was necessary. Yet, reason and emotions rarely mixed, so he reveled in his tiny punishment.

He didn’t wallow in it, though, and once he was clean, Elijah gathered his bundle and heaved the burden upon his back. It was almost enough to overbalance him, but he managed it well enough, using some rope he had in his satchel to facilitate it. Then, he began the long walk back to Khotont.

As he did, he finally allowed himself to acknowledge his reward for killing such a powerful beast.

Congratulations! You have reached level eighty-seven. Attribute points allocated according to class.

He’d gained three levels, which was confirmation of the boar’s might. However, despite the fact that those levels had allowed him to reclaim his place at the top of the power rankings – one level higher than Oscar Ramirez – he had difficulty taking joy in his progress. To distract himself from his guilt, Elijah looked at his status:

Name

Elijah Hart

Level

87

Archetype

Druid

Class

Animist

Specialization

N/A

Alignment

N/A

Strength

140 (102)

Dexterity

122 (91)

Constitution

123 (100)

Ethera

99 (96)

Regeneration

124 (91)

Attunement

Nature

Cultivation Stage: Cultivator

Body

Core

Mind

Soul

Stone

Hatchling

Quartz

Novice

With his gear and buffs, Elijah’s attributes had gotten pretty impressive. However, he was a little annoyed that his ethera attribute was only one point from reaching triple digits. That was because only one piece of his equipment – the Wolf Totem he’d looted from Thor – added any extra points. By comparison, the rest of his attributes were inflated by buffs and equipment.

He could further enhance those with his forms, but at present, that was unnecessary. So, he remained in his human shape as he trudged across the prairie.

As satisfied as he was with his improved attributes, Elijah was more concerned with the other benefit of passing level eighty-five. He’d gained another opportunity to upgrade an ability, and it was one he’d been waiting on for quite some time.


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