Scorching Ascension - [Progression Litrpg Apocalypse]

Ethan watched from above as Dwayne and his squad retreated back toward their own territory, disappearing between the trees that had cracked their way out of the pavement of the deteriorated, once residential neighborhood. With them gone, Liz, Amelie, Audrey, Gerald, and Diego stepped into the rift, with Ember in tow.

They were a big enough group and high enough in level that they should be able to safely bring down the tier-2 beasts of this rift, especially considering that the main threats were ape-like creatures that liked to pelt their enemies with summoned pieces of rock. They were weak individually, and tended to bum-rush their targets in a very predictable manner and though they might be numerous, the expedition should be a good counter to them.

Ethan wasn't worried. But he was a bit surprised that Amanda showed no interest in the rift and its potential levels..

"You're not going in with them?" he asked, giving the woman floating next to him a sidelong glance.

Amanda's moth-like wings fluttered about her, creating a constant, barely audible hum as she glanced down at the remaining man she'd brought along. He hadn't gone with the others within the rift either, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I still have things to do around the settlement. And now that other forces are making their moves, I want to improve our preparations a bit more. Liz was doing some scouting, but she's about to be busy for a few hours and obviously we can't just have one person on the lookout. I want to find a few more that would be good at it. There'll be a time for me to get in some leveling, but for now there's too much to do. We need to secure our position, and we're spread out thin enough as it is."

Ethan nodded along. He completely agreed with Amanda's assessment, and the sooner they could unlock more of the pylon's capabilities, the better prepared they would be. His recent rift clearing should have injected a good amount of fragments in the settlement and with the buildings he had seen, it meant the rest of the camp was generating enough that it might be possible that they already had the budget for the tier-2 upgrade.

But maybe not enough for more than that. For accessing the actual module upgrades, the current rift challenge and Ethan's assault on the ex-military group would be needed.

Still, with a decent portion of their good fighters in the rift, Ethan felt a bit nervous about heading out to deal with the new group, and as the rift's entrance winked out of existence, he realized something. Frowning, he clicked his tongue. There was no one around to approve Amanda's requests if she needed stuff out of the pylon.

And I'm not close enough to the pylon to give her some permissions. At least to use the scouting module so she could keep an eye on things, he thought to himself.

As if sensing the shift in his mood, Amanda floated lower. "Don't worry about us. We've got enough people to hold out in case something shows up. Just go and deal with the base, then let's look into the upgrades. If we're lucky, Liz and her team should be done by then as well, and we can see what we get."

He nodded at that. Ethan didn't feel ready to give her too much power to wield just yet, but depending on how things went, he was willing to give her a shot because right now, he had to admit that she was doing a stellar job of managing and organizing their priorities.

She was competent. And they needed competent people.

With a deep breath, Ethan readied himself to leave. "Alright. I'm heading off. I'll see you in camp later. And good work with Dwayne," he added.

"Happy hunting," she said, then paused, turning back. "If they're as bad as Dwayne said… watch out."

Ethan nodded, and with that, he soared and flew north-west, toward the military base he'd been told about. It didn't take him long to get there, and pretty quickly, he grimly confirmed what Dwayne had told them.

***

Roland's POV

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Roland took one last look down the empty corridor of the barrack before he clicked the door shut and turned to face the man he'd come to speak with, grimacing at the earthy, smoky aroma of whatever Shepard had been smoking.

The man in question was sitting on the floor, back against the wooden wall of the barrack as blue smoke drifted off a rolled joint. His eyes seem glassy, and Roland didn't even dare guess what it was he was inhaling this time, though he had no intention to stay long and find out. Already, he could feel the smoke burn its way into his lungs, but it shouldn't be able to affect him too much between his stats and his specialty.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about others. Considering the weak, golden haze around the two poor souls at the man's feet. This newfound drug must be potent enough to asphyxiate those who hadn't gone through the first reforging.

The warrior's eyes snapped to him, his steel vambraces appearing around his forearms, but even after he realized that it wasn't another attempt on his life, he still kept the armaments around. "What?" Shepard barked.

Roland swallowed, then met Shepard's eyes. "He's getting worse. He's just… talking to himself now. And he killed a second envoy. We're going down with him if we don't put a stop to his shit, Shep."

Shepard brought the joint to his lips and pulled. He held in the smoke, eyes closed, then exhaled a cloud of blue-tinted vapor. "And how are we going to do that? Huh? Tell me. Here. That's two of them dead. How many that leaves him with? A hundred? Two hundreds? Do you think we can get him before he heals it all like this," he said, snapping his fingers before he took another drag. "Then what? We match him spell for spell?"

Shepard chuckled derisively, a vacant sneer on his face as he stared past the two corpses in front of him, shaking his head. "We're fucked. We might as well go down swinging. Have a grand ol' time of it."

Roland refused to look down. Gritting his teeth, he began pacing. "I don't want to go down with… it. A couple more days and there's going to be nothing of him left. Just that… thing growing all over him. This is… this is not gonna end well. We have to put a stop to it."

Shepard spat to the side, then took another drag. "Yeah. It won't, especially if you keep bringing up this shit," Shepard said, heat entering his voice. "You're going to end up dead. Or worse. With your own worm, sleeping in your own piss and shit. Our hands are bloodied, Roland. Wake the fuck up. We're not better than him. We empowered him. We told him it was fine, when we were trying to survive in that… hellhole. Don't start acting like you're better than this when you helped dig the hole we're all crawling into. This is the last time you come to me with this shit. Next time, either take your chance, run, and hope he doesn't catch up with you, or you shut the fuck up and get with the program."

Roland stopped pacing, mouth open. His response died in his throat as he stared at Shepard. Or at whatever he had become.

He's gone, too.

Roland didn't deny he had his fair share of the blame sitting at his feet, but…

He shook his head. He didn't feel the need to argue anymore. He was not even recognizing the stranger he'd used to consider a friend. He turned away, put his hand against the door and was about to pull it open when something came through the alert system.

Intruder detected

"Shit," came the muffled voice behind him. Roland heard Shepard stumbling up to his feet, mana surging about him as he most likely activated some of his spells to clear out the drugs from his system, but Roland didn't look back and instead, he pulled up the scouting module and saw the red dot. Then he frowned.

"The slums? Wait, it's coming toward us. Above us?"

Was it another envoy from the brass? Were they making their move? Or is it another attempt by the group they've been chipping at?

Shepard didn't stop to listen and instead ran outside, while Roland approached the window and looked out just in time to see the first orb fly down toward the barricade surrounding the prisoners' camp, and he almost scoffed as he watched the defensive line of their own soldiers step forward to block it.

As if a simple fireball's enough to—

—The fireball hit the first shield, and Roland watched as the shield, the man behind it, and the ground under them were instantly pulped and pulverized, the blood misting out of the soldier before it immediately vaporized from the barely visible wave of flames.

Cursing, Roland summoned his crossbow and began channeling more mana into the bolt, right as the second fireball flew at the rest of the soldiers, some of which were still gagging and trying to get themselves back up from—most likely—burst eardrums and much worse.

They didn't fare any better than that first soldier.