Forged By The Apocalypse - A LitRPG With Draconic Potential

What am I doing?

The air around me became a shield, which in turn became a weapon as I rammed into the boar’s snout. The beast squealed like a demon before running away in fear. “Good!” I shouted after its fearful hide, “I den’t like the look of you either!” After a few seconds, the sounds of the boar crashing through the underbrush squealed out of range.

The excitement over for now, I sighed and returned to my perch in the tree above Grant’s head. “What the hells am I gonna do with you?”

I spun around on the branch with my legs, thinking hard. Not something I like doing, but the situation required it. What were my options? I could keep the wildlife away as long as he woke up soon, but if anything serious showed up, what then?

It wasn’t my nature to worry, so I didn’t. What would be, would be. Going from non-existence to full blown life was mostly just disorientating but it also definitely created a certain mindset. The singular thing I was concerned with was surviving from minute to minute. Eventually, that might shift into day to day, but one thing at a time.

“Booooring,” I complained fruitlessly. Grant looked ragged, but his recovery was overpowering the damage. He would survive. I could tell just by looking, though why I knew wasn’t clear. For the most part, my knowledge felt instinctual. When I needed to know something, I would. Until then, I mostly just thought about eating.

For now, Grant still needed food and water. His body was mortal. Mine wasn’t, so all I needed was the ambient mana released when a monster died. Something which would have been in abundance if Sleepyhead down there wasn’t the only human in the place. I knew enough to understand this wasn’t normal, and I was half-starved when I finally found the frog.

I would probably never tell Grant how much I needed him, but that was okay. It wasn’t lying not to share things. He clearly needed me just as much, if not more. The magic within him was rebuilding his body as quickly as it could, but it would be hours. Was there something I could do to speed it up?

Oh!

Apparently there was… but I wasn’t willing to tie myself down just to avoid a bit of boredom. Still, it was an interesting idea, and something to do, so I spent some time researching this Familiar Contract. The rules were long though, so I skimmed it a few times. When the tree I lounged in shook, I nearly screamed.

Good job I didn’t, as I had company. Proper company, which would have been deadly to me too if the dungeon was any stronger. My invisibility protected me, having upgraded with the rest of my abilities at level 10. I didn’t have time to think, I had to act. A blade was aimed for Grant’s sleeping face, it needed to be diverted.

So, I didn’t think. I diverted the blade. Steel ate through muscle, bone and sinew alike despite my magical shielding. The pain caused me to scream but the sound was dimmed to my ears as the heavy blanket of unconsciousness swaddled me. Before I fell, I managed to spit on the stupid frog.

–––––––––––––

In a world all of my own, I huddled over the waning flames of energy. Howling winds of poisonous fumes attacked the tiny spark of power and I screamed soundlessly as they seared my soul. The agony was unimaginable. Unlike physical pain, my scoured soul was my last bastion. There was nowhere further inside to run in avoidance.

So I endured.

I roared in anger and rejection. Anger that I would be subjected to this, rejection that this trial would defeat me. All around me, the pressure lessened just a bit. From within the flame I clutched to my chest, my roar echoed back. The Dragon added its strength to my own and together our shout became our weapon.

One with the Dragon, I stomped and lashed and screamed in equal measures at the pain, yet never yielded an inch. Soul scarring wounds were created and discarded, replaced by steel as I went through each eternity filled moment of torture. I refused to let it bend me, refused to break. There were hidden reserves of will and desperation which I burned through with abandon.

Somewhere in the pain, the balance started to shift. Unknown to me, I had hauled myself back from past the point of no return. The level 40 poison of the boss scorepion should have eaten through my bones due to its potency, but the Dragon’s mana would not allow that. Where I should have had no recourse, I was instead able to pour all of my mana reserves into lessening the poison’s damage.

The flame I protected was my mana. The void I found myself in was a pale imitation of the true Nothing I had seen. It wasn’t nothingness surrounding me, just the empty space of my drained core, seen from within. Each blast of poisonous wind stole the accumulated mana before it could refill the container. By guarding it as I could, the flame was able to survive and steal some of the strength away from the winds.

Of course, I knew none of this. It wasn’t like I made a decision to fight, if there was a chance to choose I never saw it pass me by. All I knew was something external was demanding I cede to its will. I had no way of knowing whether I was fighting the tide or not, but I fought all the same. Better to rage against the dying of the light.

I could feel it when I pressed through the threshold, though. The poison’s efficacy dropped noticeably and sounds started returning to the world. My mana reserves had been completely emptied, and then I pushed every ounce of energy into my defence. I couldn’t be sure, but I felt like I had strained my core and my pathways.

Once upon a time, waking up to screaming would have frozen me in terror. Instead, I immediately burst into action. I clawed through the remaining flimsy veil of darkness and threw myself directly towards the danger. My body had recognised the voice crying out in pain before my mind did, so I was already in motion when I realised what was happening.

Naea needed help.

Bleary eyed and rubbery limbed, I was in no state to fight and expect to win, yet I had no choice. I quickly analysed the situation, jumping to my feet and leaning on a nearby tree. We were on the edge of the desert and it looked to be very early morning. The sun wouldn’t rise over the trees for a while yet, though. Lacking light, the duochrome of a grey sky and dark foliage did its best to hide the scene from view.

More importantly than the weather was the Adolescent Amphibious Attack Animal currently trying to assassinate me. Just like before, the mutated humanoid was as horrible to behold as anything I’d seen. The same protective shell circled its torso, long arms brandishing a sword at me. It flicked blood from its blade, causing me to check myself. Nothing. Weird…

Finally, my eyes saw it. What I had thought was another random twig released a small belch of blood onto the floor. A single, wasp-like wing was pinned under its weight. The whooshing of blood in my ears faded to nothing and I now heard the quiet sobbing of pain and loss on the floor. Shivering in a growing puddle, Naea clutched the severed stump of her right arm just below the shoulder.

I didn’t know she had done so in defence of myself, but that didn’t make my fury any less explosive. The poor level 14 Attack Animal’s eyes bulged as I removed the Yo Staff from my inventory. As far as it was concerned, I had summoned the weapon of its fallen sibling from thin air, spinning it with a flourish. A grunt of indignation from the thing disgusted me, so I flew forward.

My mana pool wasn’t even nearly recovered since my ordeal, nor was my body in tip-top shape, but so what? I had less than 10% in the tank, but if it took even half of that to destroy the danger before me, I’d be disappointed. Not that I attacked with reservation, however.

The Yo Staff’s magical ability was simple to describe, but there was a fair amount of nuance to its use. When there was no mana running through the weapon, it seemed a standard bo staff, though I suspected its magical nature reinforced its durability. Once mana entered the dark, lacquered wood, the Yo Staff gained weight. The effect was not uniform across the length, however. To now, I had used this effect like a caveman, launching uncontrolled attacks to create as much devastation as possible.

I had just spent hours watching, kindling and containing the fraction of mana which continually formed. Sending a controlled flow of energy, less than my recovery rate, was a level of control I couldn’t manage before. Unfortunately for the second knock-off ninja, this weakness had just been thoroughly expunged by my tortured hours of pure mana control.

When the staff moved, it was weightless. To my strengthened body, the long stick was like a paper straw. Yet, when the blade of the amphibian met its wood, it became a mountain. Expertly, I planted the staff in the path of the short sword, right on the foot of the frog-thing. I couldn’t hold back a vicious snarl as I surged a sizable chunk of my mana into the staff. The manoeuvre when I brought my own feet up and drop kicked the turtle with all the strength I could muster.

I couldn’t help being a little surprised as the creature flew away further than expected, but I chalked it down to anger at the time. I yanked the Yo Staff from the ground and used my boot to remove the payment for Naea’s wound from its end. The staff wasn’t sharp, but its weight had been more than enough to pierce the thin webbing of the frog-turtle-man’s disfigured foot.

I’d have been alright with just the foot, but the whole frog leg had stayed, plucked from the creature. Easier than ripping the legs off a spider. I didn’t revel in the intrusive thought, but I didn’t shy from it either. I’d been attacked by a bug. This was a simple extermination.

I wasn’t calm and collected, and I didn’t approach the fallen enemy like the terminator. My shove had thrown the thing a fair distance into the sand, where it struggled and wailed, all fight removed from it. Wasting no time, I lifted the Yo Staff over my head and gave it the absolute best swing I could manage. Through the length of my weapon, my mana danced to the exact spots I wanted and the force of my hit was exponentially multiplied.

The tension of the moment snapped and I yelled “Fore!” Just like I imagined, the fucker looked exactly like a golf ball being launched from a bunker. The sight was hilarious if I did say so myself, but I didn’t have time to watch. A shiver of pressure fell onto me, not enough for a level, confirming the kill and that was enough.

I needed to help Naea.

Within two seconds I covered the distance to her small frame and hovered overhead. Only then did I realise I had absolutely no idea how to help. There was nothing waiting in my inventory from looking random scorepions, just a bit more gold I couldn’t use. “What do I do?” I asked desperately.

My heart broke as Naea chuckled bravely from below. “Yeh couldn’t o’ woke up a pinch quicker?” I tore a lace free from my boot and tied off her arm. She hissed as pain contorted her face. She ground her tiny teeth together and her dark eyes met mine with fierce determination burning clear. “I do have something.”

“Anything,” I nodded.

“Silly boy,” Naea whispered. “Ye can’t go telling girls such things.” Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. She waved her remaining hand in my direction and a prompt appeared. For a moment, I was doubly confused because this wasn’t how System messages normally looked for me.

Instead of the simple floating white box with black text I was used to, a complex and detailed screen glittered into existence. Literally. While I doubted it was visible if someone else happened to be looking, to my eyes a gorgeous document had pulled itself from the air. I reached out to touch the page, and the more standard System prompt appeared.

Familiar Contract - Dungeon Fairy “Naea” has offered a familiar contract.

Do you accept the terms?