It struck him like a stampede.
It wasn't just one King Ursa—it was the King and its ancestors poured into one monstrous force. Not one avalanche but an avalanche of avalanches, slamming into Zane at once.
It took him off his feet—for just a fraction of a second.
It was his new reaction time that saved him. There was a moment of shock.
But Zane got over it fast.
Instantly his eyes were clear, bright with a sudden intensity, an urgency.
He stomped down ferociously, blasting great slabs of smoking steel off the mountainside, shivering the peak as he skidded.
Mount Hoarfrost was one giant hunk of Bleaksteel, a peak Earth-grade Spirit Steel. Packed in dense, it could stand the punishing winds and bear vast weights. It would not give under force unless it was truly catastrophic.
Zane's legs plowed straight through it like they were fresh snow.
His leg muscles trembled under the effort. But they locked firmly in place.
He snarled. Fought back.
And his muscles showed their fullest potentials.
All that training—bearing several planets' worth of gravity on Planet Explosion, forging pistons of the tendons in his legs—showed itself in an instant. When Zane stomped again he nearly brought the peak crashing down.
And his training on Planet Push made itself known too—when he called his muscles to fight, they burst to sudden life. Crashing against the avalanche, and shuddering that great howling beast…
The world-forging heat and pressure he'd endured on Planet Temper was what saved him.
He gave a strangled roar.
It felt like he was being ripped apart at the seams and crushed at the same time—different chunks of his body subjected to opposite extremes of duress. Not even he could understand the immensity he was trying to hold back… He just felt his hands wrestling against paws big as gauntlets. Saw a wall of blistering sleet hammering down on him, eyes locked with the white-eyed King, teeth bared, slobbering its rage like so many melting icicles…
Zane's body just took it all—and held.
He saw the King Ursa snarl—a hint of bloodshot grew in its wild eyes as its charge was being forced to a grinding halt… he felt a fierce joy. Shoved harder—
Then Zane heard the winds howling behind him like screams leaking out of the depths of hell.
He knew he couldn't afford to turn, but he felt the danger. Felt the drop into the abyss below, the lightless gloom, deep, deep down…
That drop into Bleaksteel spikes, smashed down by blizzard winds filled with some vicious Tier 5 Wind Laws, was enough to kill Minor Gods in an instant. Just as it'd done to those Ursas.
Zane would not allow it.
He dug his heels in deeper, felt the last of his Stormfire reserves lighting up the machinery of his body, kicking into the highest gear he could muster.
He pivoted hard. Shucked the King away as he circled back, and the last of the force blew past him.
Man and Bear stared at each other across a smoking expanse—an expanse just ruined by the expression of their powers. Zane heaved in deep breaths, huge clouds of shimmering heat steaming the air…
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been physically challenged in battle like that.
This thing was something else.
It turned to face him, shaggy head held high in the manner of a king. It drew itself up to its full height, and let out a roar that cracked the ice all the way across the peak—sent icicles dropping like torpedoes from the cavern roof…
This time the undertone of its Ancestors was even louder—like a thousand bears roared with it. It was nearly an attack unto itself—a blizzard of frost and sound slammed into him.
But he stood his ground.
He could sense in the sound a wounded pride. Could feel the King's own emotions clear, even without Great Sage Mind, could see it in the King's eyes, narrowed to angry slits.
Zane had stopped its blow—an offense it could not tolerate.
When it set its powers against something, it expected that thing to crumple. It was the strongest, and it took great pride in it. Zane could tell that was buried deep in the creature's sense of self.
He could tell because he was the same way.
He bared his teeth right back.
The Bear stomped one step closer, snarling louder. Another. Then it pounced on all fours, bounding faster—swallowing up the distance in great strides even as a waterfall of snow came down with it, a building avalanche riven with the spirits of warrior-bears long gone…
It wanted a round two.
Zane was happy to oblige.
This time, he didn't sit still. His body was still running at its peak.
He stomped down. Burst out. And met it head-on.
When the two of them met the sound cracked across the entire North Pole. Lesser avalanches crashed down every slope of Mount Hoarfrost; chunks of steel blasted off, loosed by the vibrations of the impact…
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘!
ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝟟𝟝%
Zane grunted.
But once again he held strong.
And then they were wrestling in a deadlock. Bare fists fighting back bear paws—you could see the muscles standing out stark on Zane's back as they worked; snowflakes hissed to steam the moment they touched him.
And on the other side blizzard-cold power poured off the Ursa King. Its teeth gnashing first in fury, then in disbelief, as the human before it just kept stopping its onslaught.
Zane would not go down.
It was the kind of burden that tested the entirety of his musculature. As he wrestled this Bear—wrestled it and the strengths of its ancestors, his body was being pushed to the breaking point. Man and Bear lurched back and forth on the mountain peak, as though in some drunken dance—there wasn't a muscle inside him that wasn't working to its limit, struggling to stop that overwhelming force…
Every single muscle in the King Ursa's enormous body was working to crush him too. The strain was plain in its vast frame—in the incredible tension running through all that heaving mass.
Zane couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this.
He always fought with heart. But it was a very rare thing indeed when a beast could challenge him where he was strongest…
There was a wild, bloody grin on his face.
So much force came together there were cracks in the realm itself where flesh and fur made war.
His body—every bulging vein, every shuddering muscle—was a portrait of sheer effort. He was not just holding back the weight before him. He felt the Sacred Bone shining still—felt the roars of the King Ursa's ancestors even now—and knew he was holding back the weight of time too.
His Asura State was holding at its peak. Nearly to the point of overheating…
Then he felt a seam of pain running up his quads.
Running down his arms—splitting his chest down the middle…
He frowned.
Not good.
Gritting his teeth, he held—and held—and the seams kept growing—like cracks spreading down the face of a dam…
Zane let out a frustrated growl.
He still felt he would win out in this battle of raw strength. He believed it deep in his heart. He wanted badly to throw himself at this beast until one of them broke.
But he was not here for that today.
He was here as the Barbarian Sage said—to feel what it meant to go up against a Sacred Godbeast Bone. And he got it.
For now… it was time to end things.
He mustered all his strength. Planted his feet. And exploded—gave the Ursa King a mighty shove.
It was a natural thing, when shoved hard, to shove right back.
Zane kept his mind on the King Ursa's. Feeling its feelings—waiting for just the moment—he had to time it just right.
He felt its mind harden.
The King howled in rage, surged forward—
Zane's eyes flashed.
At the exact same time, he pulled back hard.
Dipping away, letting the Bear's suddenly massive momentum carry its bulging upper body forward—before he dipped low, letting its claws swipe overhead—
And hoisted it up and over in one massive throw.
There was a brief moment, floating mid-air when the King realized in shock what'd just happened.
It tried clawing at him as it went by, howling and frothing, tried clawing onto anything to stay on but its enormous momentum worked against it.
The avalanche went over the cliff.
Zane walked over, breathing heavy. Saw the massive beast swallowed up by the dark, one massive shaggy clawed paw still clawing upward at him, an angry ice-blue dot disappearing into the gloom…
It was a long time before he heard it hit the bottom.
THUD.
Then came a howl of agony, nearly drowned out by the blizzard winds. Zane felt no essence rushing up toward him…
It'd lived.
That fellow was a strong one. Zane gave it one long look, and turned to leave.
He might come back one day. It deserved a rematch.
For now, he got a pretty good feel for the difference a bone made.
***
"You survived!" said the Barbarian Sage through a mouthful of giant turkey leg. He sounded surprisingly surprised. "How was it?"
"Pretty hard," said Zane, who was still quite sore. He sat down by the fire for lunch. Harder than he expected. The Sage handed him a leg. Greasy but tasty—and packed dense with essence. One bite, and relief came to his body.
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟚𝟠 -> 𝟜𝟚𝟡
Then—
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟'𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪, 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕍 -> 𝕍𝕀
…It looked like he'd tried so hard against that thing it counted as a full-body workout.
"I'll bet it was hard!" said the Sage, wiping his mouth with the back of a hairy arm. He grinned. "Gave it a run for your money, eh? That's the thing with these Sacred Bones. They're not like normal body-parts—they're the condensed powers of the species. They magnify the strengths of a Bloodline. Could be a physical trait—for that Bear, it was its raw strength. Could be a Skill, even! Some of them vampires, it makes their life-draining several times as strong. Our old friend Gorthak would've been much more troublesome with a Bone, I'll tell you."
He wagged a bone at Zane. "For beasts and creatures their bodies are their weapons, see, so they graft it in directly. For us human-types, we've got to graft it into our Spirit Weapons."
He brightened at a thought. "Let me show you something."
He held out a hand—and a void opened up in his palm. Lengthening to the shape of a pole.
When it vanished, there was a spear.
Its shaft was made of steel as dark as outer space. The material had to be at least equivalent to Heaven-grade, Zane could instantly tell. But in the astral plane it had no shine—just a void.
The spear tip, on the other hand, was like a noonday sun in the Astral Plane. It was almost hard to look at directly. It wasn't made of metal. A beautiful ebony shard and it did not gleam at all in the sunlight—Zane could guess what it was.
He felt his own heart beating faster just looking at it. A Bloodline reaction.
Its bright-red tassel, too—a blank.
"This," said the Barbarian Sage fondly. "Is Skypiercer."