Path of Dragons 12 - Chapter 17 - Unconnected (Patreon)

The wall exploded.

Debris rocketed across the building, skipping across the floor before a wave of stone and steel swept over the soldiers.  Elijah ducked his head, bracing himself to weather the shockwave, but there was nothing he could do to protect those around him.  Massive hunks of the wall smashed into soldiers.  Bones broke, and organs ruptured as dozens of men and women died upon impact. 

Not all, though.

And certainly not Elijah, who’d already begun his transformation into the Shape of the Scourge.  He darted out, his claws digging into the loose scree scattered across the once-shiny floor.  The war elf might have disappeared, but he couldn’t hide from Soul of the Wild. 

Elijah leaped over a boulder-like hunk of wall, then descended upon the invisible war elf.  His feet hit with enough force to total a car, but the elf was mostly unharmed.  That marked him as possessing a decent level, though Elijah had difficulty determining anything more than ascension. 

Not that he cared much.

The elf was weaker than him, and not by a small margin.  That was all that mattered. 

Elijah’s claws dug in, and he flared Mantle of Authority, dispelling the enemy’s stealth.  The elf flickered into view, wearing a bloody grin across his ashen face.  He’d been wearing a hat to conceal his ears, and his complexion had been altered via a simple coat of makeup.  But that rudimentary disguise had been sullied by sweat and movement.

Even if he hadn’t announced it before the explosion, his origin was now crystal clear. 

Old hatred roiled beneath the surface of Elijah’s mind, and it had nothing to do with whatever spell the elf had cast.  He had history with this species, and it was anything but pleasant. 

“Do what you must, beast,” the enemy spat, his mouth coated in blood from obvious internal bleeding.  Elijah cast Wild Resurgence, mending his wounds.  Not out of any sense of altruism, but rather because he didn’t want the elf to die before he got a few answers. 

The spell was more effective than he’d anticipated, though.  Elijah still wasn’t used to the increased power that had come with his upgraded core.  Reaching the Lindwyrm stage had more than doubled the effectiveness of his spells, and that included his healing abilities. 

He’d healed plenty since exiting the Broken Crown, but most of the recipients had been incredibly weak.  The increased power had helped, but the old, pre-Lindwyrm potency would have been almost as effective in those instances. 

In any case, Elijah was slightly surprised by how much the elf had healed. 

It didn’t matter, though.  Even at full strength, the enemy couldn’t stand up to Elijah.  Not unless he had some seriously powerful tricks up his sleeve.  Or a bunch of support.  He did not.

“What is going on?” Elijah asked, his voice raspy from combined anger and his scourgedrake form’s unique anatomy.  Even as Elijah asked the question, another explosion rocked the building.  This one was more distant, so it didn’t do much damage.  But it made it clear that the attack wasn’t confined to one area.  Making an assumption, Elijah asked, “Is the entire First Army here?”

“The First, Second, and Fourth Armies have infiltrated this wretched city,” the elf growled.  “It will fall, a testament to the might of the –”

Elijah pressed down, cracking the elf’s sternum.  At that point, Isaiah’s drone finally recovered and flitted closer.  Gunnar came as well, accompanied by a few of the higher-leveled soldiers.

“The city is under attack,” Isaiah stated, confirming the elf’s claim.  “Tens of thousands of them.”  He paused, but before Elijah could ask him to continue, he said, “They were arrayed throughout the city in clusters.  Hiding in plain sight until they got the go-ahead to attack.”

“Is it related to the Daughters?” asked Gunnar.

“I…I don’t think so,” Isaiah answered.  “I think…I think the attack is one of opportunity.”

“How long has this been planned?” asked Elijah, focusing on the elf.  The broken sternum – or rather the internal injuries that came with it – would kill him if it was left untreated, but not quickly. 

“Years, beast.”

Elijah shook his head, then focused on Isaiah’s drone.  “How did you let this happen?” he demanded.  “Surveillance is supposed to be your thing.”

“I can not see everything, and even if I noticed they were elves, why would I care?  Elves in this city are not rare,” he countered.  “There was no indication that they were hostile.”

“They’re war elves.  I could have told you as much.”

“You weren’t here.”

“It’s not my job to –”

“This isn’t helping,” Gunnar interrupted, looking around.  Another explosion erupted in the distance.  “What do we need to know about these war elves?  How are they arrayed?  And what was that fire?”

That was when everyone turned to the injured elf, but he refused to answer any of their questions.  That left Elijah to fill in the gaps, and as quickly as possible. 

“The fire was a mental attack,” he said.  “I think it was meant to enrage, to make us fight one another.  Or failing that, to keep us from reacting rationally.”

Then, he went on to explain his previous run-in with the war elves.  He told of how he’d destroyed most of the Third Army outside of Kalki, and he described everything he knew of their preferred tactics. 

“They are organized and experienced, with decent average levels.  But what really sets them apart are the Warcallers,” Elijah said.  “They’re a combination of melee fighter, debuffer, and enhancer.  That’s the engine that makes their war machine go.”

“How many?” Gunnar asked the war elf, who remained beneath Elijah’s claw.  The enemy did not answer, and no one had time to make him more cooperative. 

Elijah said, “The Third Army was about eighty-thousand strong.  I think it’s safe to assume the others are at least as numerous.”

“A quarter of a million soldiers?” asked Gunnar.  “How did they hide so many?”

“Seattle is a large city.  Seven million residents at last count,” Isaiah stated.  “But there aren’t that many elves in the city.”  He paused again.  “Ah.  There is an army outside the city.  They have already taken the Conclave Spires.”

“No reinforcements,” Elijah reasoned.

“How many out there?” Gunnar asked.

“At least two-hundred thousand.”

“So that leaves fifty thousand in the city.  At least,” the sniper stated.  “How many soldiers do you have?”

“A seventy thousand.  Twice that if we pull from independent adventurers.”

Elijah frowned.  The numbers didn’t add up.  Even if they’d met on even terms, they would have been defeated by the war elves.  And the terms were anything but even.  Not only were the war elves better equipped and better trained, they were almost assuredly higher level as well.  On top of that, they had the element of surprise. 

If nothing changed, it would be an absolute massacre. 

He turned to Isaiah.  “I know we’ve had our differences,” he said.  “I’m willing to help, but not if it means having to deal with you undermining me at every turn.  If I do this, we start acting like true allies.  No more trying to make an example.  No more sneaking around and trying to beat me to Primal Realms.  If I help you save your city, we’re in this together.”

“Why?” asked Isaiah.

“What?”

“Why would you help?  I know you can leave anytime you want.  You’re in no danger.”

“Despite what you might believe, I’m not a monster.  I don’t want these people to die,” Elijah said, well aware that he did so while in the form of a draconic velociraptor.  “And at the end of the day, this is our home.  I’m not letting a bunch of elves take it.  The only question is whether or not I kill them all before or after they remove you.”

The floating drone was expressionless, and Elijah expected that Isaiah – wherever he actually was – wasn’t much better.  But Elijah could practically feel the wheels turning inside the man’s head. 

At the end of the day, the choice was clear.  Elijah was a better ally than enemy, especially when the war elves were knocking on his door. 

Another distant explosion reminded them all of what was at stake.

To put an exclamation point on it, Elijah finally put his full strength behind his claw.  The war elf’s torso exploded, and he died a second later. 

Even as the elf’s eyes glazed over, Isaiah said, “I can live with that deal.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Elijah stated.

After that, they gathered the soldiers and stepped free of the elevator terminal and into a warzone.  Explosions – both distant and close – echoed through the city, while the screams of the dying traveled like whispers on the wind. 

Meanwhile, the city’s defenses had come online.  Massive cannons ringed the entirety of Seattle, and they’d finally fired up.  The target was the approaching army of war elves.  At present, Elijah couldn’t see their effectiveness, but he didn’t hold out much hope.  After all, he’d felt the sting of such cannons, and he’d come away entirely unimpressed.

But they would help slow the army down so Elijah and Seattle’s forces could focus on what was important – saving as many people as they could. 

For that, Elijah needed speed.  He also needed to see what was going on.  So, he threw himself into the air, bounded off of Cloud Step, and transformed into the Shape of the Sky. 

The advantage of altitude gave him a good idea of how the elves had been deployed.  A mile or so from the city – coming from the direction of the Conclave Spires – marched a massive army.  Seeing them told Elijah that, if anything, the estimates regarding their numbers had been understated.

However, he was very pleased to see that the cannons were surprisingly effective.  They’d yet to do any damage, but each ball of roiling ethera forced the elves to erect defenses.  As such, their progress toward the city was incredibly slow.

Elijah turned his attention to the city itself, where hundreds of battles had already begun to play out.  And to his frustration, very few of those were between humans and elves.  Rather, the residents of Seattle – soldiers and civilians alike – fought one another.  Obviously, they were under the influence of similar spells to the one Elijah had countered within the terminal.

Every so often, waves of blue flame arced out, sweeping across multiple blocks at a time and covering the city in a recognizable grid of manipulation.  The moment those flames touched the city’s residents, their efforts to kill one another grew more ferocious. 

At the same time, squads of elves roamed the city, falling upon the distracted citizens and soldiers.

But the implication was clear.  If Elijah wanted to affect the battle, he first needed to deal with the sources of mental manipulation.  Only then could he turn his attention to the invaders. 

He dove, targeting a building only a few blocks away.  He hit that structure like a meteor, tearing through it without issue.  It was saying something that, even in the Shape of the Sky, he could endure such punishment without much issue. 

He ripped through concrete and steel, his senses extended to the maximum.  As he slowed to a stop, Elijah shifted into the Shape of the Scourge, then sprinted through the rubble to find the elf.

The target was half buried beneath a pile of concrete and impaled by a jagged shard of rebar.  He struggled to free himself, but barely made it an inch or two before Elijah reached him.

There was no mercy.  No quarter.  Elijah simply beheaded the hateful war elf, then immediately moved on.  By that point, Isaiah’s drones were out in full force.  Some targeted war elf parties, but for the most part, they were clearly there to provide information. Guided by one such drone, Elijah set off to kill the other rage-inducing elves.

Over the next half hour, the battle continued, and as Elijah killed one manipulator after another, the citizens and soldiers regained their senses.  Once they’d overcome their rage, they turned their attention to the invaders. 

Their collective resistance wasn’t much.  Most of them were civilians.  However, Elijah was happy to see that Isaiah’s strategy of developing rifles bore fruit.  Even non-combatants could output a decent amount of damage with those weapons. 

But it wasn’t enough.

Seattle residents died in droves, but Elijah remained focused on his task.  Anything else would be counterproductive.  Still, he felt every death, and he vowed to make the war elves pay for each and every one.