Path of Dragons

Book 3: Chapter 27: Human Nature

Elijah cursed himself for not traveling in his draconid form. Not only would it have allowed him to cross the wilderness much more quickly – even without the Dexterity and Strength boost it provided, the form was still much better suited for the task – but it would have allowed him to avoid the current situation entirely.

Because the men and women surrounding him were clearly not intent on hunting beasts.

There were twelve of them, all armed with spears, axes, and swords and wearing leather armor that, even to Elijah’s untrained eye, looked like it was poor quality. Still, there were enough of them that Elijah knew he needed to take them seriously, especially considering that he was caught out in the open.

“You don’t want to do this,” he said, pushing himself to his feet.

“We really do, mate,” said the one who’d thrown his spear. He was a tall, whipcord thin man with cheekbones that could cut glass. He also wore his facial hair in a pointed goatee that really sold the evil bandit look. “Now, give us your pack and whatever coins you got, and we’ll let you be on your way.”

“I want the stick, too,” said the woman beside him. She was almost as tall as him, but even slimmer to the point of looking malnourished. A few dirty smudges on her cheeks and mussed blonde hair gave her an almost feral appearance. Otherwise, she was quite striking, to the point that Elijah wondered if she might’ve been a fashion model in her old life.

Perhaps that was why she’d plainly disregarded her hygiene and appearance. After all, that could be a defense mechanism while surrounded by unscrupulous men who faced no real societal consequences for giving in to the worst of the worst inhibitions. Elijah preferred not to assume the worst of anyone, but he knew there had to be some overlap between people who would resort to banditry and those who might choose to ignore the concept of consent.

In that context, her appearance made a lot of sense.

Or maybe Elijah was reading too much into it, and she was just a habitually dirty person. Regardless, he had no time to muse on the subject. Instead, he needed to focus on the people who were trying to rob him. So, he said, “If you keep going like this, I’m going to kill every one of you. It won’t be quick, either. When you realize your mistake, you’ll try to run, and I’ll hunt you down.” He pointed his crook at the man who’d thrown his spear. “And you’re going down first. I’ll crush your skull with my bare hands.”

“Think we’re scared of you? You’re only a Healer,” the two-bit villain spat. Then, he chuckled. “And level nineteen, too? What are you even doin’ out here?”

“Dammit,” Elijah muttered with a shake of his head. His Ring of Anonymity had caused more problems than it had potentially solved, and it was getting very close to the point where he was just going to discard it. “Think about it, man. You find me out here all alone, and your first thought is that I’m vulnerable? You know how hard it is to survive in the wilderness, right? You have to. And yet, here I am. All by myself and not worried at all. Why do you think that is?”

“He’s crazy, Rolph. That’s all it is,” the thin woman said. She was armed with a sword that she looked comfortable using. But then again, anyone who managed to survive in the new world was probably, at the bare minimum, competent.

“Fair warning, Rolph,” Elijah said, shifting his stance a little. “I don’t mind killing you all, if that’s what it comes to, but I’d rather avoid it. Guilty conscience and all.”

For a second, silence reigned. Then, Rolph extended his hand and the spear he’d thrown jerked free of the loamy forest turf and returned to his hand. That was clearly the signal for the other bandits to attack, and before another second had passed, Elijah was buried beneath the weight of a dozen spells and skills.

Some were simple projections of ethera that took the form of slashing blades, but there were bolts of energy, a couple of fireballs – which seemed incredibly irresponsible to Elijah – and even a flying icicle. For a few moments, the bandits threw everything they had at Elijah, and the ground kicked up into a cloud of dust.

When it settled – both literally and metaphorically – the bandits were confronted with a monster.

The moment Elijah had felt the bandits’ attacks activate, he’d shifted into his lamellar ape form and activated Iron Scales. For most attacks, that was sufficient to rob them of any effect, but for the fire and ice skills, it was almost useless. Thankfully, his Constitution was high enough to pick up the slack, so when the barrage ceased, Elijah was almost entirely unharmed, save for a few chunks of ice that had lodged between his scales and a little smoke curling toward the sky.

“What the –”

Rolph never got the chance to finish his exclamation, because Elijah dashed forward almost too quickly for any of them to perceive. He crashed into the bandit leader with undeniable momentum that should have sent the man flying backwards into the trees. However, Elijah prevented that by wrapping his huge fingers around the man’s head. He squeezed, and it shattered beneath the pressure he brought to bear.

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Rolph fell to the ground in a heap, and for a few moments, the bandits just looked upon him with mingled awe and horror. Then, one of the women let out a scream, which functioned as yet another signal. But apparently that signal meant different things to different people, because a few of the bandits immediately turned tail and sprinted into the woods. Others decided to try their luck with a few more attacks.

It went about as well as the first barrage, which was to say that it was entirely ineffective. Meanwhile, Elijah burst into motion, charging the next bandit on his list.

In the past, he might have hesitated before attacking a woman. In the old world, that made sense. In fact, he would have avoided physical violence against anyone, with the caveat that they weren’t in a boxing gym. Yet, that attitude was useless in the transformed world, especially in a kill or be killed sort of situation.

Not that Elijah was in much danger.

He’d already established that he wasn’t. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to follow through with his promise. He would leave people to their own devices right up until they attacked him. Then, all bets were off.

That was exacerbated by the bestial rage that came with the guardian form. So, when he reached the woman, he didn’t hesitate to snap out and clamp his jaws around her head. It burst just as quickly as Rolph’s, and as her now-headless corpse fell, Elijah turned his attention to the remaining assailants.

They didn’t last long.

In fact, at that moment, most of them decided that their fleeing allies had the right idea. They scattered, leaving only a couple to the fight. The remaining bandits put up a slightly better fight than their leaders, but in the end, they fell without even scratching Elijah’s scales.

Then, he began the hunt.

Because Elijah hadn’t been lying when he’d said he would kill each and every one of them. Partly, it was because he saw them as a menace. It took a special kind of evil to prey on people during crisis – and the world’s transformation certainly qualified for that. In a perfect world, everyone would pull together and support one another.

That was a pipe dream, though. Elijah knew it went against human nature. There would be exploitation, like what had happened in Norcastle. But at least the mayor of that town had given something in return. The bandits, by contrast, were a blight. A virus. They were no different from the Voxx who spilled out from the rifts.

And just like those monsters, they needed to be exterminated.

So, Elijah shifted into his draconid form and started his hunt. The first few were easy enough. They hadn’t gotten far, and without the advantage of numbers or circumstance, they stood even less of a chance of surviving his attacks. Couple that with the nature of the draconid form – it was called the Shape of the Predator for a reason, after all – and the results were predictable.

However, with every passing moment, the others drew further away. If he could have, he’d have marked each and every one of them with the Brand of the Stalker, but the nature of the spell meant that it could only be used on a single enemy at any given time. So, he sometimes forgot to use it at all.

It was an issue he needed to rectify, because the spell gave him a powerful boost to his damage. So, as he hunted each of the bandits down, he made an effort to use Brand of the Stalker before he pounced. And the results were encouraging, if only barely noticeable against such weak opponents.

Over the next few hours, Elijah stalked every last one of the bandits. When cornered, some begged for mercy, but most never even knew he was there before he fell upon them, ripping them to pieces with claws and fangs.

Doing so gave him a heady sense of power that was, in a way, addictive. Sure, he enjoyed a challenge like he’d experienced in the most recent rift. However, there was something to be said for dispensing justice against a weaker enemy that could never hope to stand up to him.

By the end, though, it just felt tedious. Another item to tick off his to-do list. So, he ended it as quickly as he could, and when it was all over, he left them to rot. Their equipment was mostly worthless, and his bag space was limited. So, he only bothered to take the couple of ethereum coins they had on them before leaving the area behind.

But upon resuming his human form, any satisfaction Elijah felt retreated before a feeling of guilt. It wasn’t regret – not precisely – and his rationale remained just as valid as ever. Yet, in his natural shape, Elijah couldn’t escape the reality of what he’d done. He’d ended a dozen lives, and without hesitation or, truthfully, any risk to himself.

He could have escaped. He was stronger and faster, and he could have disappeared into the forest without any real difficulty. Sure, they were a menace, but was he truly meant to be the arbiter of justice? For all he knew, those people had chosen their path out of necessity. Life was difficult, and sometimes, people had to make tough choices.

They had attacked him, though, and largely because they thought he was a soft target. That he wasn’t what he seemed was the only reason he wasn’t dead with the vultures picking through his belongings.

Still, Elijah knew the situation wasn’t nearly as straightforward as it appeared to be. It stood in stark contrast to what had happened his first time in Norcastle. The mayor had sent people after him – for some inexplicable reason – but Elijah had allowed himself to be convinced by Jess to flee rather than fight.

The resulting frustration had been a contributing factor to what had come next when he’d slaughtered the hunters who’d killed the bear and harvested the mushroom natural treasure.

Would he have done the same if he’d allowed himself to respond to the mayor’s aggression? Maybe. But perhaps not.

It was a strange dichotomy, and it highlighted the fact that Elijah, for all the lip service he played to pacificism, was a creature of violence. He could constrain it. And often, he left it behind for long stretches. However, it only took a slight threat to send him down that familiar path.

And his bestial forms didn’t help, either. If he’d ever needed confirmation that they affected how he saw things, he only needed to turn his attention to the conflicting feelings he’d felt during his most recent hunt. In his draconid form, he’d felt fully justified. And to a degree, he still did. Yet, the moment he’d returned to his human form, that certainty had chipped away beneath the weight of his human empathy.

Such thoughts flitted through Elijah’s mind as he left the area behind. Hopefully, he’d feel better about it when he reached his destination.