Forged By The Apocalypse - A LitRPG With Draconic Potential

Two blessed beings clashed in the Trial Tower, releasing shockwaves of pure Dao. Ripples of bizarre energy churned the very building blocks of existence for a mile around. Space was crippled and stunted at random, while a terrifying force of will swept over the area like the shadow of an apex predator.

On the fourth floor of that very tower, the group of five were weathering a dangerous storm. The combined pressure of the two combatants above would have been far too much for the mage to defend against alone. Even before the battle had started in full, the newly evolved Dao of Magic was not built to withstand an onslaught like this. Fortunately, there were others facing this adversity, too.

And pressure can create diamonds.

Harry yelled out and Tom felt the weight on his shoulders, the pain behind his eyes and the ache in his neck alleviate all at once. A choral melody replaced the discordant sounds of battle from above. Unlike the barrier created by the Dao of Magic, the Dao of Protection was a little more ostentatious. A golden bubble appeared from the ground up, covering the group like an igloo. Tom looked at the group’s defender with eyes holding back tears. “Not over yet,” Harry grunted. “You’ve got to teach me to move with this thing.”

Everyone but Tom was confused. The mage simply closed his eyes, caught his breath, nodded and got to work. He extended his own Dao and the aureate power began to fill slightly, the gaps in the protective barrier gleaming with a beautiful cyan. There was a general look of epiphany about the group, a sense of desire in each of them which they all knew aimed the same way.

Upwards.

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It’s a bloody good job the others stayed downstairs, I thought while weaving between attacks. Master Thorn’s glaive rose, fell, slashed and stabbed at impossible to predict angles. The Dao of Space made its attacks linger in the air, extend further than they should or simply hit when they clearly should have missed.

It was exhilarating.

Each time I was sure I had a truly solid hit about to smash into the ratman’s stupid face, my attack would slip. Space would stretch, slowing my momentum or stealing it altogether, leaving me open to a rebuke. Small taps which should have done little were instead full of weight, and incredible flashes of speed as the ratman ignored silly things like distance completely threw me off. I was wide open in the face of such a high-level Dao used in such a way. Exhilarating.

Okay, so it was definitely also frustrating, but the uncertainty of my own victory was like a drug. Each time the wounds accrued too heavily, I threaded my way back to Naea. A simple touch between us was enough to release a burst of rejuvenating mana and send me back into the fight. The battle was uneven, leaving me with three dangerous wounds to land one simple blow. A lot of arithmetic went into the gamble I was making.

How long could my mana last, fighting at this level? I needed at least two layers of Infusion to actually keep up with the creature’s movements without losing limbs. Naea’s Dao could only dominate Master Thorn’s for so long, too. Was that the timer we existed under? Or… perhaps…

There is certainly an irritation in being unable to reach the heights of a stronger opponent. I was feeling the itch to create a change, but it was not me who upset the equilibrium this time. Mana had been passively bouncing around Master Thorn’s body, the uncontrollable hint of action appearing as a visible spark within to my Stormborn eyes. The mana’s power increased in intensity, slowing as the rat gathered and moulded the energy into an attack.

Should have stuck to just Dao, buddy.

When it came to mana-based attacks, I had a ridiculously unfair advantage. While I couldn’t guess the form its ability would take, I could watch down to the exact moment the effect was unleashed. While it may not seem like profound information, in practice, it was like seeing a huge warning sign floating in the air. The more complex the magic, the harder to know what was coming.

Every ounce of the charged mana went into the glaive, leaving nothing to the imagination. An attack was coming. Master Thorn was going to use the glaive’s special ability. Without a doubt, I was entering the most dangerous moment of the fight. A scream of danger to both my left and right brought me to the only sensible choice. My legs gathered strength in an instant and I leapt.

If I were wearing non-magical shoes, a thin layer would have been sliced away by the “surprise” attack. As I had the Thunder Steppers on my feet, what happened was more like a pinwheel being struck by a strong wind. I cartwheeled through the air, desperately trying to return my gaze to Master Thorn but finding it impossible. The reason why became clear when he appeared in the air above me, his weapon still glowing with magic.

Slam.

My arm was pulverised as a hammer blow came from above. My arm was pulverised and my back didn’t fare much better as I scraped across the wooden floor. The attack description was literal. The boss monster landed with a hammer in hand, a hammer which could easily be the brother of the glaive it had been fighting with before. A shaft of brick-red wood, filigreed with black and gold inlaid metals up to the sharp, white metal tip of the glaive. Except now, it was a large, heavy looking weight instead.

I could hardly form breaths, let alone words, so I couldn’t ask Naea if what I was seeing was correct. Naea! I had to reach her, I realised. My brain wasn’t all the way there yet, so I couldn’t quite remember why I had to get over to her, but I knew it was important. Was my head damaged? It was leaking…

I slipped on something wet, which was good because the terrifying ratman had tried to take my head off with an axe. An axe with a white metal head and a long red handle. Not very nice of it, but then, I was pretty sure we were trying to kill each other. Why couldn’t I remember? All at once, the world lit up as a streak of light shot straight at me.

A lightning bolt hit me in the stomach and I was sure I was going to die. The force of the blow sent me flying, saving my unknowing ass from being decapitated. Wave after wave of healing magic knitted my body back together a little too quick for comfort. I ignored the itching and burning throughout and began dodging on my own. That was a close one.

I had been hit hard enough to receive a serious concussion, at least, but I bet it had been worse than that. I hadn’t been able to think properly, the damage to my brain was too great. Was that something natural regeneration would fix or was Naea’s timely intervention even more prescient than she thought? Either way, I needed to avoid anything like that damage in the future.

Which should be easier. “Thank you,” I returned a good amount of mana to Naea, who had dipped into her own reserves. Her only-just-returned fairy features were once again hardened into draconic ones. “Seriously. Lifesafer. I’ve seen how it works now, though.” Releasing Naea, she held my finger for a half second longer before zipping away. Her domination of the Dao in the area was over, but neither was Master Thorn able to lay his presence over the fight either. This meant he was stronger than before, but only in that he was back to full power. Yet, I had seen his tricks now. “I promise, I won’t need any more healing.”

Naea smiled at me, her expression almost a sad one. “Don’t you break that promise, Grant.” I cracked my neck, rolled my shoulders and got back into the fight. I remained cautious, but more willing to take risks at the same time. I doubted the boss monster had any more tricks up its sleeves, not that it should matter either way.

The Dao of Space was an incredibly potent weapon, one I desired. It wasn’t possible to strip a Dao from another being, at least not that I knew of, but for me? It was possible to steal some power. The constant return to health of its enemy was driving the ratman to desperation, which worked in my favour. It couldn’t know how long we might last, and it had decided attrition wasn’t going to work.

In an attempt to end me quickly, Master Thorn had shown his trump card. The weapon he wielded was probably a glaive at its base, but who could say? It was a malleable item, able to transform with the flick of a wrist. Glaive, to hammer, to axe and now back to glaive. Maybe it wasn’t the base, but just the form Master Thorn was most comfortable with. It didn’t matter. The Dao and the weapon. I wanted both. I would settle for just one of them until the battle finished though.

The area around me stabilised as my will took hold of it. The Dao of the Dragon was unleashed in full, with no return possible. From deep within the core of my inner world, from the Dao Pool, a silhouette began to rise. My Dao solidified, its quality ascending to the new height shown to me. My self-assigned shackles were released. Infused Strike and Retribution were ready, hidden weapons I had been holding on to in preparation for the end.

Infusion. Infusion. Infusion. Infusion. Mana Bolt. Harmony of the Storm.

Drain.

I almost felt like I should bow to Master Thorn. While definitely an enemy, it had ended up teaching me a lot. While I had no genuine desire to give the creature thanks, I could grant it my respect. In spite of the curse of its birth, I held the ratman in high regard. Its Dao had been more potent than mine, and its skill with its weapon was high. The most respectful move available to me was to attack with nothing held back.

Time to see how my tricks do.

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It had been the hardest fight of their lives, and they had seen no shortage of life-threatening battles since the System arrived. For each of them, the story of their first battle was one of terror, panic and pure dumb luck. The System had allowed them to survive when the dangers came.

For Tom, it had been an elemental born from a house fire. His fight or flight response had proven itself a fighter, and he saved the lives of a family that day. His Aspect of Magic, now a full blown Dao Pool, was the lifeline he had found which kept him going. Magic was beautiful, and even if the world was scary, Tom could battle away that dread by delving into the wonders of the new.

He was now questioning the impulse which had drawn him along for the first time. The dense blasts of imperial power which rocked the stairwell caused his stride to shorten, his back to bend. Yet, he pressed on. He suffused the barrier around himself with energy, sucking in a deep breath and fighting with the atmosphere itself to do so. Having never experienced the feeling before, the group didn’t know to compare their situation to an open air-lock.

All each of them knew was that a higher level of power existed on the top floor of this tower. They had caught a glimpse of it, only barely, whenever the mysteriously powerful Grant had fought. Tom had grasped an edge of that power as he evolved his Dao, Harry the same. Due to the corrosion of the barrier, the weight of the energy amassed above and the way it locked them in place at times, the other three were likely on their way to a deeper understanding.

Finally, after what felt like hours of pushing through jelly, the party breached the fifth floor just in time. Arriving any time after now, they would have found it much easier to climb, but it would have been too late. They would have missed the spectacle Grant was putting on. Two Dao Pools of the highest quality, with one being completely torn apart. Tom shivered, not knowing whether from fear or excitement.

Either way, his eyes were glued to the finale.