Path of Dragons

Benedict was nervous, and rightly so. For whatever reason, when he’d been transported into the Trial of Primacy, his newly summoned Malicious Guard had been left behind. He had no idea why that was the case, and he feared what such a creature would do, having been freed of his control. However, he’d had very little time to worry about such things, mostly because he’d been plopped down in the middle of a godforsaken jungle. And deprived of the focus of his class, he’d been at a disadvantage from the very beginning.

The people who’d come with him hadn’t helped.

They’d taken one look at him, judged him to be too weak to matter, then attacked. Of course, they had screamed about vanquishing evil, but Benedict’s experiences had taught him that those were just excuses. He could recognize bullies when he saw them.

Unfortunately, he was not equipped to face those men and women in a straight-on fight. After all, they had the benefit of shining armor and high-quality weapons, while, because of his overreliance on his minions, Benedict had neglected his equipment. Of course, that wasn’t that surprising, either. He’d spent the bulk of the years after the world’s transformation locked in a dungeon. Other people had leveled by conquering towers and gaining the rewards that came from that. Benedict had progressed by virtue of his undead horde, and then, after he’d received the Demon Core, by killing the opportunistic survivors of the unrest in Easton.

So, even though he wasn’t as well-equipped as his attackers, Benedict had enough experience with fighting people that he’d managed to survive their first salvo. That was the only opening he’d needed, and for days, he’d played a game of cat-and-mouse, stalking the would-be bullies as they trekked through the jungle. They tried to hunt him in return, but their efforts were laughable. None of them were suited to guerrilla warfare.

Benedict was, though.

He only had a few abilities that weren’t associated with summoning, controlling, and empowering demons, and even those involved slow-acting afflictions. Against the rabble in Easton, they’d killed quite quickly, but these were – for better or worse – the elites of the world. They had Constitution enough to withstand spells like Heat Blood and Infection, at least for a while. Thankfully, Benedict had always been a patient man, and one-by-one, the bullies had fallen.

There were only two issues. Well, three, if he considered his own unsuitability for his current situation.

First, they were not alone in the wilderness. Gangly, spindle-limbed creatures with marbled, blue-and-white skin were everywhere, and they reacted to any disturbance with single-minded rage. They either killed their prey, draining them of life and ethera, or they were slain. There was no in-between. In addition, there were plenty of wild predators that could attack at any moment, making traversal through the jungle a nightmare. More than a few of the armored bullies fell to the native threats.

Second, the environment itself seemed intent on killing them. The jungle was full of pitfalls, canyons disguised by the dense underbrush, and raging rivers that were home to a host of dangers. The terrain went further than simply slowing them down. It often proved deadly of its own accord.

And the final problem was that, for all that Benedict was well-accustomed to hunting humans, he had no skills or abilities to aid him. So, it was inevitable that he would make some mistakes, some of which had proved extremely problematic. For instance, when he’d gotten too close to one of the group’s sentries, he’d very nearly lost a leg before the woman had succumbed to his afflictions. And that was only one incident. Over the course of that week, Benedict had taken a half-dozen injuries that, if he wasn’t as high of a level as he was, would have killed him outright.

That wasn’t even considering the infection, either.

Or his stupid lack of preparation. He’d entered the Trial almost on a whim, and as such, he’d carried with him nothing but the most basic supplies. He’d only had enough food or water for a couple of days, so upon arriving in the jungle, he had been forced to ration. That left him in less than his best condition.

But the infection was what almost did him in. Even after he’d finished the bullies off and taken their supplies as his own, he’d contracted a fever that only escalated as he wandered toward a destination marked on a map one of the armored men had carried. Those few days had been the worst, and Benedict grew delirious before finally stumbling into the Nexus Town.

How he’d ended up in the infirmary, he had no idea, but when he finally came to, he was surprised to find that he’d been healed by a man in impressive leather armor. Another man stood nearby, wearing what looked like a sequined dress. Benedict was not one to judge a man’s fashion sense, but he did question the suitability of the man’s attire. After all, a sequined gown that looked like someone’s best-forgotten prom dress was not the best option for jungle survival. But at least the man wore a pair of sturdy hiking boots.

Regardless, when Benedict had asked what had happened, he was informed that he’d been found wandering around Nexus Town, lost and in a daze. Someone had brought him to the infirmary, though it had taken quite a lot of ethera to heal him. The bedazzled man gave most of the credit to the other one, who introduced himself as Elijah. The name sounded vaguely familiar to the Warlock, but he was in no condition to investigate that familiarity.

Because he was overwhelmed with gratitude. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually helped him, and not out of some concept of reciprocity. These people – and the nameless person who’d dragged him into the infirmary – had saved him.

And it threw his entire worldview into chaos.

Three people, without whom he would have been dead. What did that mean for his philosophy that people were inherently selfish creatures? Was that single event enough to derail his entire worldview?

No.

But it did tell him that there were good people out there. They were just rare.

Once he’d recovered, Benedict thanked them, and like all the others who’d been healed, he left the infirmary. As he wandered around, he took stock of his belongings, and he was unsurprised to find that, at some point, he’d been robbed. Obviously, the healers – or the good Samaritan who’d brought him to the infirmary – weren’t thieves, but the notion that someone had robbed him during his time of weakness comforted him with the reaffirmation of his outlook on the human condition.

But that was fine. Now that he had some time to safely take stock, he could make the preparations he should’ve taken care of before being transported into the Trial.

The real issue was his power, which was tied to his minions. However, that was easy to take care of, too. There were plenty of bad people out there, after all. He wouldn’t sacrifice the few good ones, but he had no issues using the others to fuel his summons. The big question was whether he would summon a quartet of imps or a single Malicious Guard.

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The demonlings were less powerful, even in aggregate. However, they had something the Malicious Guard did not – subtlety. While imps were tiny and easily hidden, the other demonic creature was enormous and extremely obvious. And he knew it would invite challenge.

So, even if summoning imps was not ideal, he decided that discretion was the better path. With that in mind, the only thing left to do was to find some appropriate fuel, then cast the rituals.

As Benedict set off in search of just that, he felt a lot better about his situation.

* * *

Oscar stalked through the jungle, his mind going in worrisome circles. He could feel the last of his companions out there, and he knew the little chihuahua was safe. But he also knew just how dangerous the environment was. It was no place for such a small dog.

Fanning out all around him were the rest of his family. Sophie and Jackson led the way, with Jojo racing all around, killing any of the smaller threats that might impede their path. Meanwhile, the other four stayed close, forming a protective ring around their Pack Leader. It was a strategy they’d developed early on, and it hinged on the two bigger dogs using their size, Strength, and Constitution to occupy the attention of powerful enemies, while Oscar worked to empower and protect his packmates. At the same time, the other five dogs would surround and whittle down the foe.

But as well as the strategy worked – and it had from the very beginning – Oscar was far more concerned with Escobar’s fate. He’d been fortunate enough to have arrived with Jackson and Jojo, and he’d found Maymay and Digby only a few hours later. Sophie came next, then Rey and Freddy. The only one left was Escobar, and he was still hours away. Who knew what kind of trouble the little chihuahua would get up to before Oscar could find him?

It was enough to drive him insane with worry.

Fortunately, he had little difficulty moving through the jungle. The terrain was harsh, but it was nothing he hadn’t grown accustomed to. Besides, he had Canine Senses and Wild Steps to assist him. His companions had similar – or in some cases, far superior – abilities, which meant that they swept through the region with unsurpassed ease. That wasn’t to say that they met no resistance. They certainly did – in the form of those strange and unnatural creatures with too many arms and mottled blue-and-white skin – but Oscar and his pack knew how to deal with hostile entities.

Though without Escobar there, the victories rang hollow, even when they managed to take down a giant bird that ended up tasting a bit like turkey. Oscar ate alongside his pack, but he took no joy in it. Not with one of their number still alone and in danger.

Dogs weren’t meant to be alone, after all. They needed their pack. Their companions. And not just for hunting efficacy. They were social animals, and without their family, they were prone to despondency. Or in Escobar’s case, near-suicidal recklessness.

With that in mind, Oscar raced through the jungle, pushing himself as hard as his attributes would allow. The dogs easily kept up. After all, they were stronger and more coordinated than he could ever be. It was a symbiotic relationship that benefited them all. Without him, they would never have survived, but the same could be said for Oscar – and not just in the death-defying sense. Certainly, they had protected one another. They’d helped each other hunt down dangerous prey, and they had all grown strong because of that. However, the true value in their relationship lay in the companionship they shared.

And no one cherished that more than Oscar, who knew the dangers of loneliness more than most.

Finally, after two more hours, Oscar heard an explosion from up ahead. He poured on the speed, leaping over a rotten tree trunk that was at least five feet thick. His feet hit the spongey ground, and he rolled to alleviate the momentum before springing upright at a dead sprint. Then, only a minute later, he skidded to a stop amidst a collection of ruins not unlike many others he’d passed – and ignored – over the past couple of days.

It took a moment to find Escobar amidst the collection of charred bodies, but when he did so, Oscar let out a sigh of relief. The little dog was perfectly healthy, though Oscar could sense that Escobar was running low on ethera.

And rightly so, considering the sheer amount of fiery destruction he’d caused. Dozens of corpses surrounded him, each one scorched and smoking. And those were just the ones who were dead. Almost a dozen others had somehow survived Escobar’s explosive spells, and they were closing in on the little dog.

That’s when the rest of the pack arrived.

Jackson and Sophie led the way, barreling into the mass of blue-and-white creatures without regard for their own safety. Meanwhile, Jojo whipped around, nipping at their most vulnerable spots. Against weaker enemies, the shih tzu would simply leap at her enemies, piercing them through by virtue of her momentum. Yet, that just wasn’t possible with these foes, so she focused on slowing them down.

Finally, the others – Meymey, Digby, Freddy, and Rey – fell upon the creatures with characteristic ferocity. Oscar knew there were abilities and skills at work, but he’d never bothered to name them. He just accepted that the dogs had grown far deadlier than even their inflated attributes would suggest.

As the dogs fought, Oscar focused on his own abilities. He only had a couple of directly damaging skills of his own. Instead, as befitted his Tactician archetype, his own skillset tended toward providing buffs and healing his pack. Still, he was not entirely without combat abilities of his own, and he utilized just such a skill when one of the monsters raced in his direction.

Drawing his Polished Flint Hatchet from the loop at his belt, he leaped forward, embracing his unnaturally high Strength as he used Wolf’s Bite.

Wolf’s Bite

Enhance a single attack with the power of your pack, increasing damage by 250%. Cooldown based on Ethera attribute. Current: 211 seconds.

The small axe hit the blue-and-white creature in the sternum, and the results were predictable. The blade bit deep, shattering the bone and carving a giant cavity in the thing’s chest. Oscar had no notion of the monster’s anatomy, but he suspected he destroyed quite a few important organs with the attack. It flew backwards, its momentum entirely reversed by Oscar’s powerful strike.

But it was dead before it hit the ground.

The rest of the battle went mostly according to expectation, though Jackson managed to take a few serious wounds that Oscar was forced to heal with Compassion of the Pack. The spell was limited to members of Oscar’s pack, but it was also restricted by his ethera attribute. Early on, he’d used every free attribute point he had to enhance it, and since then, he’d found a few items as well as a couple of minor attribute potions to further those efforts. As a result, it was just enough to keep up with the damage his pack incurred.

And in the end, they won.

As they always did.

Oscar had spent almost every waking moment fighting various monsters in the wilderness. He’d even wandered into a gloomy forest with extremely thick ethera that played host to powerful monsters that seemed to flit from shadow to shadow. Thankfully, Canine Senses as well as his pack’s natural abilities allowed them to survive – and even thrive – for a while. Though the danger eventually reached a level Oscar had deemed untenable, so he and his pack had moved on to easier challenges – like the few towers he’d stumbled upon.

Regardless, the moment the battle had ended, he raced toward Escobar. The little chihuahua let out his yapping bark as he leaped into Oscar’s arms. He hugged the dog close to his chest, tears in his eyes as he muttered, “I was so worried.”

Escobar barked.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Oscar said. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need us.”

Predictably, Escobar didn’t acknowledge that he needed anyone else. However, Oscar could feel the relief flooding through the bond they shared. It was the same with all the dogs.

Because, after all, a pack was meant to be together.

The reunion only lasted for a few more minutes – during which the dogs sniffed the corpses of the fallen monsters, then disdainfully turned their noses up at the toxic stuff – before Oscar announced that it was time they set off to find the Nexus Town mentioned in the system notification.

As much as he usually disdained human society, he knew his pack would not survive for much longer without information. He and his pack were perfectly suited to living in the wilderness, but if they wanted to get the most out of this Trial, they needed direction. Thankfully, he’d stumbled upon a few groups of people during his trek through the jungle, and he’d spent some time eavesdropping on them. That had given him a little insight into the Nexus Town’s location.

So, without further ado, they set off through the jungle, once again a complete pack.

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