It wasn't possible. Gorthak felt no essence—no Law, not even the hint of a domain! What was that man punching with?
Then the man moved. And Gorthak saw a layer of distortion over his knuckles.
It stopped the Monster dead.
Reality would only waver like that if burdened with a massive amount of power.
But there was nothing in that punch. Nothing but raw muscular force…
And only then did Gorthak understand just how much trouble it was in.
It had thrown itself forward it was so eager to get at Zane—it couldn't even turn in time.
That danger sense might've saved its life just then.
It cast the Blood Aegis. Its prime defensive spell—gathering all its essence to crystallize right in front of it, a shimmering crimson lattice in front of its torso. It even put the man's own vital essence there too—giving it a shocking boost of strength.
The man roared.
His fist hit the shield—and shattered it. Mana splintered in a thousand pieces, but the knuckles crashed through, hardly slowing.
They struck true. Sinking deep into pale flesh.
Then Gorthak heard a single heartbeat. A booming thud in its ears.
Its eyes bulged. It choked.
Then a shockwave ripped up its entire body.
Black blood exploded out of its mouth. And the massive beast was blasted across the entire cage, screeching, clawing at nothing before ramming against the wall. It slid down in a daze.
It looked down blearily…
There was a smoking hole where its belly had been. A quarter of its midsection—punched clean through.
"𝕎ℍ𝔸𝕋…" croaked Gorthak. "𝕎ℍ𝔸𝕋 𝕀𝕊 𝕋ℍ𝕀𝕊?!"
Through a blur it saw a hazy figure striding toward it. Calmly, fists clenched. A furious aura leaked out of him—an aura that pulsed with the beating of his heart…
"𝕋ℍ𝕀𝕊 ℙ𝕆𝕎𝔼ℝ…" croaked Gorthak, blood dribbling out of its maw. "ℍ𝕆𝕎?! 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝔹𝕌𝕋 𝔸ℕ 𝔸𝕊ℂ𝔼ℕ𝔻𝔸ℕ𝕋!"
But there was no faking that force.
Gorthak's massive powers of regeneration were stitching its organs back together in real-time—throwing new skin over the wound… but it was almost afraid to stand.
It stared at the man's closed fists.
The power in that human's hands…
Gorthak pointed a trembling finger at him.
"𝕎ℍ𝔸𝕋 … 𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝕐𝕆𝕌?"
"Get up," said Zane, frowning. "I'm not done with you."
Gorthak screamed.
***
This was going even better than the Barbarian Sage had expected!
It was meant to be an appetizer for Zane—something to stretch his legs. To show off his new training. The nice thing about this Monster was it had pretty good regeneration—it made for a good punching bag.
The Sage saw one of Zane's punches hurl the Monster halfway across the room. It tried throwing up an attack, raining ten-foot-long blood spears from the sky, but Zane just side-stepped—exploded out of the way, casually breaking the sound barrier as he did. The spears went wide.
Then Zane hit the Gorthak so hard it bounced off the ceiling, then the floor, then the ceiling again.
"Oof," said the Sage, wincing.
Zane was looking at his fist, curious. Like even he was a bit surprised how much power he now had.
The lad really was becoming a freak of nature.
The Barbarian Sage grinned.
Next Zane started testing his explosiveness. Started advancing on Gorthak—and as the Monster picked itself up, threw up desperate slash after desperate slash, carving bloody gashes in the air, Zane simply slammed down steps. He was gone like he'd teleported out of the way.
The Barbarian Sage nodded. "Good stuff!" he hollered.
Gorthak might not be the cream of the crop, as Monsters went. But he was still a Monster Lord—no slouch. He was still getting totally physically outclassed by Zane.
If the Barbarian Sage had to guess, only those most elite Minor God Monsters—the Monster Princes or even higher—could give Zane a good fight now.
The Sage nodded happily.
Things were all according to plan.
The lad simply had the greatest raw materials—in mind and body—that the Sage'd ever seen! Pump him full of treasure and training and this was what you got.
The Barbarian Sage had never been much for planning. But for Zane he made an exception.
He'd make that boy the strongest man in the galaxy, Heavens help him.
The Patriarch had lost his ores when the Barbarian Sage had suggested such a massive funding package for Zane—giving him such a treasury full amount of sky-grade Spirit Steel to chomp on a daily basis. No genius in the Faction got close to that—not even the Core disciples! The Barbarian Sage had had to foot half the bill.
"Worth every stone," grinned the Barbarian Sage.
He watched on proudly, arms crossed. Now Zane was done testing himself. He was starting to walk the thing down. Having a bit of fun with it—going blow-for-blow with it.
Gorthak could still land some good shots on Zane like this. But with how Zane was built—in body and mind—it just didn't seem to matter. Especially with that Asura state boosting his powers to even greater heights—that state made for a hell of a buff too. Let him push a damned good base even further, past its limits.
When Zane got locked in it could be quite the frightening thing, thought the Sage. No matter how many strikes you landed, how much blood you drew—some coming with massive force; he saw some slashes knocking Zane's head back, Gorthak's vampirism powers throwing his own force back at him—he didn't back down a step.
Gorthak couldn't get him off it. Couldn't even get him to slow. It was a bit funny, watching this twenty-foot-tall Monster Lord be utterly bullied like this.
Even more, a quiet despair was settling into the Monster's expression. It was a rather remarkable thing. Usually it went the other way around—but the Barbarian Sage got to see the hope slowly fade from that creature's eyes—then even the desperation, as it realized its last flails just couldn't do anything.
There was an air of inevitability to the way Zane stood over it then...
"𝕐𝕆𝕌'ℝ𝔼 ℕ𝕆 ℍ𝕌𝕄𝔸ℕ!" choked Gorthak the Impaler, Monster Lord, bane of the Empires of Galud'ur, as it scrambled away on its last remaining working limb. The Monster seemed on the verge of tears. "𝔾𝔼𝕋 𝔸𝕎𝔸𝕐 𝔽ℝ𝕆𝕄 𝔾𝕆ℝ𝕋ℍ𝔸𝕂—𝔻𝔸𝕄ℕ 𝕐𝕆𝕌!"
It was hard to think this was the same beast that had just threatened to peel the flesh off of Zane's bones.
And still Zane advanced on him, relentless. There was a gleam in Zane's eye now—like he sensed the end. He was not about to let it get away. It was something all the greats had, in the Barbarian Sage's eyes—a certain killer instinct.
"Good grief, lad," said the Sage.
He cupped his hands to his face. "Hells yeah! You give it to 'em!"
***
Zane was breathing heavy. Standing before a ruined remains.
ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟟𝟝%!
It was over.
Zane actually quite enjoyed that.
Now he felt he had a pretty good sense of how his whole body worked in a fight.
The Monster was going to essence now—flowing into him.
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟚𝟚 - 𝟜𝟚𝟝
Zane also noticed a new Title popping up. He usually didn't pay much attention to these smaller notifications—there were so many they just got lost in the shuffle most of the time.
But this one was unusual interesting to him because of its grade.
𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!
𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕣 𝕏 -> 𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤 [𝕃𝕖𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕪 (𝕊)]
𝔸𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕜. 𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝟙𝟠% 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟-𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤.
Nice.
He didn't plan on stopping anytime soon.
***
The Barbarian Sage unlatched the door.
"That's the first fight done!" he said, ambling over. "How're you feeling?"
"It was a good workout," said Zane, shrugging. He paused. "But next time, I want a challenge."
He wanted the sort of thing that would get him pumped up.
"Don't you worry, you rascal," snorted the Sage, ruffling his head, leading him away. "We'll get you plenty. Things are just getting started. That thing—a Monster Lord—that's like a squadron commander in the galactic Monster army. A step up from the grunts. You'll see quite a few when the Invasion comes."
Zane nodded.
"I figure unless it's a Monster Prince with a Monstrous Bone—that's their equivalent of a Spirit Weapon graft—you'll handle most any early Minor God Monsters now, no trouble, with just the force of your body."
He grinned. "Those Monsters'll have no clue what hit 'em!"
***
sᴜᴘᴇʀᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ
ғʟᴏᴏʀ ???
Gilgoroth languished in ruins.
It was less than slime at the bottom of that rune-bound well of a prison cell. A smoking slag, reduced to the cusp of existence.
White spasms of Destruction lingered over its remains. Keeping it suppressed down to the level of the soul—an incredible concentration of potent Law.
It was silent, as it had been since the Heavenly Tribulations had crushed Gilgoroth to nothing…
And then the air above it all began to shiver. Began splitting open down an invisible seam, opening wide, giving way to a void….
A single massive eye peered down from that void. Contempt shone in its snake-like pupil.
The pupil shone.
An absolute darkness descended. The stuff of pure matter itself, ran through with Corruption power—and when it touched the white light, both vanished. Cancelled out.
A tide of darkness descended, washing over the well, swallowing the light whole…
Then it began to build. Moving slowly upward—and as it passed, it left new matter in its wake. Sleek black scales. Six tattered black wings, built up one by one—and at last the six slitted crimson eyes. Its soul, too, pulled back from the brink…
Gilgoroth bowed its horrible head. It screeched in the Monstrous tongue—twisted sounds like glass shattering and steel screeching. It was expressing its gratefulness.
A voice cut it off from above.
𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖, 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕.
Gilgoroth quivered.
𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔽𝕒𝕥𝕖. 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕤. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟.
Gilgoroth screeched more gratefulness.
𝕎𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕤𝕝𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕤… 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖…𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 ℂ𝕪𝕔𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕨𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕪𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕞. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖… 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖, 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕚𝕫𝕖.
The eye narrowed.
𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕖. 𝔽𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟…
Gilgoroth shivered.
The eye was about to close—then it had a feeling.
It belonged to a very, very old creature, and it knew the flows of the world better than any living being in the Dragonspire Galaxy. There was something important here—something it ought to press on… An instinct borne of its familiarity with Fate. With the universe itself.
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖—𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤… 𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕞𝕒𝕟. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝.
Derision shone clear in the eye.
Gilgoroth began to tell of Zane Walker. The six-winged serpent was contemptuous. Thought little—just another hope of man, soon to be crushed—a bright hope, perhaps. But he would not grow fast enough to make a difference in the coming wars. It was the cunning Noughtfire who had brought it low, in its mind…
At first the creature above was inclined to agree.
Then it heard Gilgoroth say a phrase, and stilled.
𝔻𝕚𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕒𝕪—𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕝𝕖—𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕊𝕒𝕘𝕖?
Gilgoroth affirmed it. It had never heard such a Title—but the creature above, who had come from beyond the Dragonspire Galaxy, who had lived through many a Chaos Cycle—its eye widened.
Then its stare grew distant like it was remembering a figure from long, long ago…
ℍ𝕖'𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜… hissed the eye.