Path of Dragons 16 - Chapter 45 - Duel (Patreon)

Dozens of balls of mingled poison, ethera, and barely contained force fell.  Elijah, in the Shape of Withering, followed close behind.  Flanking him were nine copies, each one with their talons extended.  The air ignited from their sheer velocity, turning the atmosphere into a comet’s tail of green-and-yellow energy. 

Ok’tarik never even looked up.

The various incarnations of Plagueburst hit first, exploding with the force of true artillery.  The chieftan’s closest subordinates disintegrated under the onslaught, while every orc within a hundred yards was sent tumbling across the closely gathered fleet.

The ship itself was too large to destroy with a single volley, but the barrage tore through the upper deck, exposing the thousands of orcs inside its spatially expanded hold.  They fell too, though not from the shockwave.  Instead of kinetic force, they succumbed to the rolling wave of venom that cut through them like a knife.

It dissolved flesh and infected their souls, rendering them insensate within a few scarce moments.

By that point, Elijah had arrived to slam into the reeling Ok’tarik.  If Plagueburst hit like artillery, then Falling Talon fell like a bunker-busting bomb.  He hit the orc chieftan talons-first, ripping through his chest and destroying his ribcage.  Organs ruptured a second later, followed by his meaty heart.

Then came the nine copies, each one slightly weaker than the last.  But together, and with the first instance of Falling Talon having sundered the orc’s defenses, they amounted to a rapid-fire of damage that cut well into his torso. 

Ok’tarik screamed, his voice lost amidst the sound of shattering ships and agonized subordinates. 

Elijah wasn’t unaffected, though.

The sudden cessation of his momentum came with significant consequences, and he felt the bones in his legs creak under the impact.  At the same time, his organs rattled against his own ribcage, sending arcing pain throughout his body. 

Yet, by that point, he was well used to the cost of using Falling Talon.  Over the past few months, he’d employed the ability often enough that he barely even felt the pain anymore. 

Instead of reeling, he recommitted to his course of action, seizing the advantage of momentum to rip ribbons of flesh from Ok’tarik’s body.  His massive claws, more than a foot long and sharper than any sword, tore through the grey skin to eviscerate the fallen orc. 

The clones mimicked him, lancing in to dismantle him, bit by bit.

And then, with a sudden surge of ethera, Ok’tarik recovered.  Not physically.  His body was still so damaged that it was barely recognizable.  However, his eyes snapped open, and his expression of agony morphed into one of pure focus.  A second later, Elijah felt a massive hand clamp down on his throat.

Because of the size difference, Ok’tarik’s fingers were incapable of encircling the venomwing stalker’s neck.  But even so, his digits dug into Elijah’s scales like they were no firmer than a newborn’s skin. 

Elijah was ready for it, though.

He’d already begun to shift, this time into the Shape of Embers.  The decrease in size allowed him to slip away.  He did so, flipping backward through the crumbling ruin of the ship.  As he landed, Thorn came to hand. 

However, Ok’tarik didn’t immediately pursue.

Instead, he fought off the clones, which persisted even after Elijah had changed forms.  They wouldn’t maintain their shape for long, but until they dissipated, they still posed quite a threat.  Ok’tarik aimed to end it. 

His spear lashed out, cutting through shadowy venomwing stalkers.  Each swipe dispersed one of the clones until, at last, he was clear.  By that point, Elijah was fully recovered from the attack. 

The two faced off, the ship creaking beneath them. 

“You should be dead.”

Elijah twirled Thorn, slowly circling to the right side.  “I could say the same for you,” he replied.  “Surprised you survived that cannon barrage a few weeks ago.”

“Barely an inconvenience.”

Elijah could read the lie in the orc’s expression.  While he didn’t believe for a second that Ok’tarik had come close to dying, it was obviously a painful experience.  After all, Elijah had endured similar damage, and each time had proven to be more than just a speed bump. 

A glider passed above, casting them in shadow.  Something descended, hitting the deck with an explosion that Elijah hadn’t expected.  Even so, with his enhanced reaction speed, he managed to flip away without incurring any damage.  The ship was not so lucky, and the scuttling that had begun with Elijah’s attack soon reached a crescendo of snapping boards and screeching metal.  It split apart a moment later.

Just in time for a hundred other gliders to pass over head.  They each dropped crude bombs, forcing Elijah to leap away, bound off of Cloud Step, and put a little distance between him and the impending explosions.

Predictably, Ok’tarik followed, his torn skin flapping in the wind of his pursuit.  Organs dangled from his chest, pulverized into minced meat and ribbons of deeply red flesh.

Elijah hit the next ship at a dead sprint.  It was listing to the side, with the deck almost vertical.  But with Absolute Grasp, that orientation was no impediment to Elijah’s mobility.  In fact, he even killed a couple of orcs who were stubbornly hanging from the planks, but only because they attempted their own attacks.

Dealing with them didn’t necessitate a slow-down, so Elijah maintained a lead over Ok’tarik.  However, when the orc reached that same ship, he wasted no time before impaling some of his subordinates.  The orcs screamed in pain as the ivory spear flashed with ethera.  Vitality slipped from their bodies, down the carved shaft, and into the chieftan. 

His body began to mend, the ribbons of flesh wrapping around one another until they merged.  At the same time, the other orc withered down to nothing, and so quickly that it didn’t even have a chance to scream.  In less than a second, Ok’tarik flicked his spear, sending the dry, dusty corpse sailing through the air.  It hit the railing and came apart. 

Looking back, Elijah saw Ok’tarik repeat the motion, impaling yet another orc.  This one tried to dodge, but it was too slow.  A moment later, it ended up just like the first. 

Elijah didn’t bother watching anything else.  Instead, he sprang free of the ship, leaped off of a Cloud Step, and hit the next vessel at a dead sprint.  After a few more seconds, he’d reached the point where the ships were less damaged.  The orcs on their decks tried to attack him, but they were far too slow to make contact.

That fueled Seed of Ashes, adding charges with every missed attack. 

And Elijah knew he would need it.

Once he was on solid footing, he went on the offensive.  He danced across the deck, his arms and legs blazing with Wildfire.  Cloak of Embers spread out, choking the orcs as well.  Thorn flashed with every attack, and he slaughtered the creatures in droves. 

Meanwhile, Ok’tarik, having drained enough orcs to fuel his complete recovery, charged to close the gap.  As he did so, he crashed through one ship after another, never slowing.  He wasn’t quite frothing at the mouth, but he’d clearly become so enraged that he’d stopped caring about the consequences to his people.

By the time Ok’tarik had rejoined the fight, Elijah had built fifty charges of Seed of Ashes.  Unfortunately, the orcish warchief was much faster than the others of his kind, and he managed to nick Elijah in the arm.  That brief bit of contact dispersed the charges Elijah had gathered, forcing him to start over.

He narrowed his salamander-like eyes as he refocused.

He never should have gotten hit.  He was better than that.  He needed to be.

Ok’tarik came in low, his spear cutting a wide swath through the air.  Elijah leaped over it, rolling to his feet a moment later.  He whipped around just in time to see a descending spear, which he blocked with an upraised Thorn.  The two weapons clashed, sending out a shockwave that knocked the nearest orcs from their feet. 

Elijah shifted sideways, redirecting Ok’tarik’s weapon toward the deck.  The spear blade hit the wooden surface with a thunderous crash.  The surrounding blanks splintered into a thousand pieces, and a series of cracks spread out from the point of impact. 

Elijah ran an orc through, kicked another one, and whipped around to throw the impaled creature at Ok’tarik.  The warchief slapped the living projectile aside, and with contemptuous ease.  However, it allowed Elijah to come in unseen.  Thorn lashed out like a striking serpent.

Once.

Twice.

Seven times, all in less than a second.  The blade bit deeper than expected, but with Ok’tarik’s ridiculous durability, not enough to do serious damage.  The flames of Wildfire, which surged through the spear with every strike, were a little more effective.  But it wasn’t enough to truly affect the orc chieftan.

But that was never the point.

Elijah knew he couldn’t hurt Ok’tarik – not in any appreciably way.  As powerful as he was in the Shape of Embers, the form wasn’t meant to overpower anyone.  But it was good at two things, and that was what Elijah leaned into.

The first was dodging.

With his enhanced reflexes, he dodges far better than his raw attributes suggested was possible.  As a result, he managed to keep ahead of Ok’tarik as well as the lesser orcs.  They never touched him, which synergized with the shape’s overall design, allowing him to rapidly build charges of Seed of Ashes.

But that was all about defense.

From an offensive perspective, Elijah harnessed those quickened reactions to needle Ok’tarik.  Damage wasn’t the goal.  Instead, he only wanted to annoy the orc and hopefully push him into sloppy technique. 

And it worked, too.

Ok’tarik was no normal orc.  He clearly possessed more control than most of his race.  However, the heritage of his people was inescapable.  As such, he was as prone to enragement as any other berserker.

Elijah danced aside, maintaining complete focus as Ok’tarik charged past.  The orc hit another of his kind, sending them rocketing into the nearby railing.  The creature tumbled overboard, screaming along the way.

Elijah ducked under a clumsy attack from another orc, then dipped lower to dart between Ok’tarik’s legs.  The chieftan rammed the tip of his spear into the deck, narrowly missing Elijah.  The surface rippled under the impact, and the wood in the immediate vicinity shattered.  Even as Elijah dashed past, the entire deck collapsed.

He used Cloud Step to keep from plummeting into the spacious hold. 

Ok’tarik controlled the local ethera to do the same, and he sprang toward Elijah with a roar loud enough to burst a mortal’s eardrums.

Elijah leaped high, kicked off of another Cloud Step, and twisted to avoid the orc’s sweeping spear.  He latched onto one of the masts and skittered around to the other side.  He made it just in time to avoid another thrust from Ok’tarik’s spear. 

The mast did not survive the engagement.

It shattered in an explosion of splinters that sent the top half of the massive shaft sailing away.  Meanwhile, Elijah leaped backward, flipping to avoid a follow-up strike.  He narrowly avoided it, his momentum enough to clear the gap to the next ship.  He landed with a falling spear that impaled another of the orcish crewmembers. 

He yanked the spear free of the dying orc’s body, sending an arc of blood to splatter against its fellows.  It also gave him a good view of Ok’tarik looming above him in a leap that had covered the same gap Elijah had just crossed.

But by the time he landed, Elijah was already gone, weaving his way through hundreds of orcs who’d come crawling out of the ship’s hold.  They tried to hit him, but they appeared to be moving in slow motion.  The same was true of the other ship, which was so damaged that its ethereal engines could no longer keep it aloft.  It had already begun its long descent toward the core, like a ship slowly sinking beneath the waves.

Elijah wasn’t concerned with that, though.

Instead, he kept one leaf within his mind trained on Seed of Ashes.  The charges continued to build, one by one as Elijah flowed through the crowd of hostile orcs.

And then, at last, he reached two-hundred.

The second he met that threshold, he let loose with Flames of Renewal.