Scorching Ascension - [Progression Litrpg Apocalypse]

Only a handful of lizardlings dispatched to deal with him survived the second fireball. Four in total, lumbering their way to Ethan. Even though they had protective measures, it just wasn't enough to shake off a close-range detonation. They came at him, stubbornly slow behind their shields, while their leather straps and belt still smoldered.

Ethan only took a few steps toward them in response.

Beyond, the chanting continued, like a countdown in his mind. He had to interrupt them. The high-level ritualists. He had to stop whatever it was that they were doing, but he had to turn his attention to the bunch of warriors at his back.

As pissed off as he was, he shouldn't let himself be surrounded.

When he was close enough, he raised one hand toward the oncoming four. They seemed to expect another fireball, with one of their shield shimmering before it projected a panel forward.

Ethan just drowned them under a gout of concentrated fire. And he kept it going. Shields grew red hot in seconds. Barriers cracked, and armors couldn't cover the whole body. Certainly not the eyes, unlike the magic bone-armors used by the high-level lizardlings.

While the warriors screeched and howled with pain, Ethan counted. Ticking off their number in his mind. He didn't let off his flamethrower until he received the fourth notification and once that was done, he spared one final look past the smoking corpses. Where there used to be twenty or so warriors, a mound of charred and smoking flesh littered the cave floor. The only still-living lizardlings were the chanters and the ritual leaders themselves.

None will be spared, of course. But now he could deal with the stars of the show.

Ethan turned his attention back to the ritualists, and this time he threw a fireball at the pyre itself. He was leery of rushing the three conductors, so he hoped his provocation would drag one of them to him. One raised a hand, and a new barrier intercepted the blast midway to the pyre, engulfing a handful of chanting lizardlings who died instantly.

Ethan glared at the leading lizardlings. And they glared back.

You don't want the pyre damaged, huh? How about the singers?

Ethan began burning through the ranks of chanters while their chanting grew more feverish. Something trembled in the air, and Ethan stole a glance toward the fire at the center of the cave. It had surged up. Whatever the lizardlings were doing, it was progressing quicker than Ethan liked.

He cursed. If only he could use the fireballs faster. It seemed to need around five seconds between cast. How could he speed that up? No matter how much he willed it to be ready faster, it didn't take.

A problem for another time, he said, engulfing another swath of lizardlings in fire. Whenever he felt a bit of empathy at their screams, he looked at the severed head.

One of them had been a teenager.

By the time he'd gotten through half of the chanting lizardlings, one of the leading ritualists pulled a dagger out of thin air, then stabbed the first kneeling individual in the heart. A moment later, it pushed the dying lizardling in the fire, along with the human head in its lap.

Provocation isn't working. Plan B.

Ethan abandoned the chanters and rushed the dagger-wielding conductor. He managed five steps before slamming into a translucent, white-tinted wall. To his left, another conductor stepped forward, wand raised, bone-armor ready. It said nothing.

The dagger-wielder stabbed and pushed a second lizardling into the pyre.

Ethan pointed at the wand-wielder and pushed against the barrier with a gout of flame. It lasted for a second before cracking, making the mage's slitted eyes narrow, which quickly turned to panic as he sprinted toward it. It nervously shook its wand as Ethan closed in, and another barrier went up right as the jet of flames almost reached it.

A third lizardling was thrown into the fire. Ethan didn't know how many there were; he couldn't see what was happening behind the pyre.

He punched the barrier and threw as much fire as he could once more, overtaxing the wall of gray light. It shone brighter for an instant before it shattered and dissolved into motes. Ethan raised his left hand and shot a [Small Fireball] at the defending conductor before it could manage another barrier. A new wall of light appeared, and Ethan was about to curse, only to realize the barrier-caster's timing had been off.

It had come up too late.

The spell blew up in the barrier-creator's face while two more lizardlings were sacrificed and pushed into the pyre. From the one he'd just caught, Ethan saw two body parts go flying, one of which he was pretty sure was an arm.

Should have put some points in Toughness, dipshit.

A couple of seconds later, he got the notification for its death, but he couldn't pay attention to it. The fires of the pyre were growing wilder and brighter.

Ethan raised his arm and aimed at the dagger-wielder as it plunged its dagger into another glassy-eyed lizardling. Before he could shoot, a part of his mind ground to a halt. Something was off with the scene ahead of him. Something very important. As panic filled his chest, he realized what was off.

Wasn't there a third shaman?

In the same instant he realized one of his opponents had disappeared, Ethan felt movement to his right. A disruption in the air that could feel clearly against his bare skin. He barely had enough time to flare his flames around him and raise his arms to protect his neck and chest when the third lizardling shed its invisibility and stabbed.

Cold metal broke skin and sunk into his side like a punch in his gut. Ethan's breath rasped, barely hearing the scream of the lizardlings as it was burned. But it didn't retreat, and another wave of pain and wrongness came over him when the lizardling pulled its dagger out, twisting for good measure.

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Air escaped out of his lungs through gritting teeth, and Ethan stumbled along with the dagger. The lizardling scrambled back from the fire and heat, already burned, and in Ethan's sight, it's body began blending with the background as it reactivated its invisibility.

Through bloodied and gritted teeth, Ethan pointed with his palm and and rasped. "Fuck you."

A narrow gout of intense fire surged at the almost invisible lizardling. Ethan saw its eyes go wide right before fire engulfed it, and it screeched. Not even the bone armor was enough for the magic that had melted literal rock.

A couple of seconds later, Ethan heard a thud and stopped the stream. He turned, flaming hand on his bleeding gut, and walked toward the third shaman, leaving the charred remains of the second.

Ethan aimed at the last one and shot a fireball. He didn't look if it landed or not; instead, he pulled his level notifications and dumped every new level stat point he had access to into Toughness.

You have defeated [Lizardling - Level 19]

…

You have defeated [Lizardling (I) - Level 32]

You have reached Level 27. 1 stat point awarded.

…

You have reached Level 30. 1 stat point awarded.

Warning: You cannot level further.

Arcanum of the Fire Elemental: 145 fragments collected.

Ethan grimaced from the sharp pain as he dismissed the message, seeing another lizardling pushed into the fire as the four Toughness points altered his constitution further, taking the edge off from the cold sensation crawling out of his stomach.

Ethan raised a hand and shot another fireball at the pyre, only for one of the chanters to run and jump into its path.

Right. Them…

They were mostly under level 20, and there weren't that many of them left. If Ethan was to put a number on the surviving lizardlings, he'd say there were ten at most, with only one being dangerous to him.

The remaining ritualist has to die.

Making his way toward the pyre, Ethan felt a worrying wave of hot and cold in his stomach. He pushed more fire on the stab wound and forced himself not to panic while he burned the remaining lizardlings. From the corner of his eyes, he checked on the side quest. He had hit level 30. He could use the points in the rewards.

Shit, he thought as he saw it still active. It's not done. The path stuff is still pending.

Looking back toward the pyre, Ethan willed himself to focus. Where's that last lizard? He could tend to his wounds once he got rid of it.

Pain continued pulsing in his stomach, and Ethan felt cold sweat bead down his back. It wasn't a great sign. He tried to shape the flames of his left hand into some sort of wrap around his midsection while he forced his feet to move faster.

Finally, he laid eyes on the remaining ritualist. The lizardling was holding its bloodied knife against its palm. As Ethan met the reptilian's gaze, he thought he saw a gleam of triumph in them, right before it sliced its palm open and let the blood flow over the flames.

Fire surged up in a column of bright yellow flames, making contact with the cave's ceiling for a few seconds and then—it winked out.

"A master!" screeched the shaman as it fell to its knees, and its call was echoed by the remaining lizardlings. "A master comes! To guide us! To SAVE US."

His voice echoed in the cavern. No one took up his words. Every other lizardling had been burnt to a crisp.

Ethan gritted his teeth from the pain. Looking down at the extinguished pyre, or what remained of it, he saw blackened bones. Charred flesh and, in their midst, an ember. A large one. At least a couple of feet wide. Glowing red lines were spreading along its surface, and from the bones a glowing mist was flowing into the ember. Fragments.

"It's… it's too small," Ethan heard the lizardling mumble, but he had no eyes for it. He was more focused on the threads of golden smoke converging from all over the chamber toward the ember.

The young man blinked, and his mouth opened in disbelief.

Wait… My fragments!

But it was too late. The fragments that he hadn't collected were sucked in in a matter of seconds. The cracks in the ember deepened, spreading out all over the surface, and then the first chunk fell out. Another was kicked out, and a gout of flame surged out of the egg as whatever was within it tried to break free. Then, as if it got annoyed, the ember exploded in deflagration of fire and embers.

The flame faded. Ethan's eyebrows shot up at what he saw, then he stilled when he saw its levels.

"No… no no nononono!"

The shaman lizardling clawed at its face, surprising both Ethan and the newcomer, who didn't seem to enjoy being startled like that.

"It is not one of the masters! It's—aaaaAAAAAH!"

The lizardling was drowned into a gout of flame at least twice as wide and intense as the best Ethan could manage. Then the creature turned its attention to the rest of the cavern, and its gaze finally landed on Ethan.

The creature's pupils dilated as it began walking toward him. Small wisps of fire danced all over its fur whenever it moved. As if the flames had always been around the creature's small body, and it just needed to move for them to be revealed.

[Ignisra (I) - Level 51]

Ethan swallowed and restrained himself from panicking as he eyed the fire-cat that slowly, confidently was making its way toward him. He only had one thought as flames danced around his stabbed stomach.

I wish I had some cat treats on me.