It was a typical night these days. Cross-legged under a full moon around a crackling campfire, a blanket of mist shrouding the chaos far below. Chowing down on juicy drake leg.
Fluffy was looking at Zane, making begging noises. They sounded like glass shattering, mixed with the howls of the damned. Zane frowned at her. She gave him a lick.
"Fine," said Zane, and tossed her a bone. She happily shredded it midair.
"Time sure flies, eh?" sighed the Barbarian Sage.
He looked a little cloudy-eyed. "You're coming up on Skill Level 10 now—nearing the end of the first Titanform… and to think! Just months ago, you were but a wee lad… They grow up so damned fast!"
He sniffed.
Zane wasn't sure he was that small to begin with. But the Sage kept rambling.
"After you finish that off, you'll need a Sacred Bone. We'll get you one, don't you worry." He ruffled Zane's head. "My lad's getting his first Bone… bah. Can't wait!"
Zane was quite looking forward to it too.
The more he pushed his body, the more he felt he was running up against some hard wall. His growth was slowing. He could only pack his muscles so tight—only grow his strength so much…
"You've built a strong foundation," said the Sage. "But at some point, for us humans, we'll need a Sacred Bone to go further."
The Sage stripped a chunk of meat off his bone, then wagged it at Zane. "I remember when I got my first Bone like it was yesterday. Fluffy and I, brave adventurers—we sought out the Ancestral Homeland of the Titan Rhino deep in the Desolate Wilderness. Slaying monsters and wrestling down Godbeasts as we went. There, I proved myself in front of the Rhino Ancestors and the Rhino King himself. Those bones of theirs—especially the rare ones—they don't just give those out! They've got to make sure you're worthy in body, but especially soul…"
The Sage grinned. "Those were some damned brutal challenges, I tell you. But what thing worth doing isn't, eh?"
Those words hit for Zane. He nodded.
He wanted to be pushed to his limits—to run his heart, his blood, as hot as they could go. He'd liked that feeling even more when this all started. Before he had something to protect. Back then, he'd thrown himself at anything and everything. Reina was right, now that he thought about it—he had been more wild. He hadn't cared all that much about his own life or death…
Now if he fell, though, it wouldn't be just him. He carried the weight of his friends, his home, on his shoulders.
He would still never shy away from a challenge. From danger. That sat wrong in his heart.
Life-and-death threats would come to him whether he liked it or not. To face them, he had to get used to them. He just had to make sure nothing put him down for good.
Reina felt some men were made to fight—she felt that was Zane to his core. He seemed to get a bit restless when he sat still too long—he and the Sage were the same like that.
Zane did like it much better, though, now that he had something to fight for.
When he thought of his friends—of Reina—he could find something deeper even he hadn't known about. He was stronger like this.
"It's a young man's game, all that dueling," said the Sage. He sighed. "There's not much that can give me a good tussle these days. Once in a few decades, maybe…"
He stared into the flames; their flickering showed bright in his fierce eyes. "There's still a few beasts yet that're good for a bout—the Six-Eyed Dragon, or the Lava Ape Emperor. I've spent centuries wandering those Desolate Wastes, seeking 'em out, challenging them to duels. There's more powerhouses still in those Tier 2- and Tier 1 dungeons, once their entrances start unsealing. Once the Chaos Cycle nears its peak…"
The Sage turned to Zane, serious all of a sudden. The shadows lined his wrinkles, making him look his age. But his eyes were bright as ever.
"When you grow older, lad," he said, "don't you be like those Grand Elders, or Ancestors—sitting on their powers, happy to run their houses—or worse, go into deep seclusion… all young, bright-eyed heroes once. All gone to old fossils."
The Sage shook his shaggy head. "Like blades set to rust! What good's strength if you don't use it? Life's meant to be lived, damn it!"
He made a fist, shaking it at the stars, as though challenging them. He grinned wildly, freely. "Stay sharp. Seek the hard path, always—that's the way! And when war comes to your door—you'll be ready."
"I will," said Zane.
***
A few more months passed in his training.
In that time—downing elixirs, most donated by Reina, and getting other levels with Reina—he got up to the mid-Level-460s. He gained another Titanform Level too.
***
ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ ᴇxᴘʟᴏsɪᴏɴ
"Go!" roared the Sage.
Six belts were strapped tight around Zane's waist, anchoring him down to six different moons, trailing him like the world's largest balloons, clattering against one another, throwing up distant clouds of dust… Zane growled and stomped.
He exploded across the hypergravity-flattened plains. Each step sent shockwaves rippling down the length of the whole planet, rippling up the atmosphere, shattering into space…
He came to a crashing stop, a wall of flames trailing his heels.
The Sage called time as he stood there, bent over, dripping sweat.
"4.6 seconds—at 35P weight!" The Sage chuckled. "Those Steles are due for a big shock, I tell you… well—that ought to be it! It'll put you over the top, I'll bet. Just wait and see."
Zane nodded, wiping some sweat from his brow.
Since a few months ago, every physical part of him had gotten severalfold stronger. Some, nearly by a factor of ten.
His strength had grown clear beyond planetary scale now.
He'd taken in too many Sky-grade treasures to count by then. A full D-grade planet's worth of reserves had gone into Zane's body, according to the Sage. The Sage himself hadn't maxed out his own First Form until he was halfway through Minor God.
"I'll worry about getting more steel," said the Barbarian Sage. "You just worry about growing!"
Zane was just in the middle of eating a Sky-grade gauntlet when a corona of silver light exploded out of him.
The massive image of a Titan Rhino, flickering and spectral, roared over him, howling at the skies—brighter in the astral plane than the physical…
And it was done.
𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟'𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪, 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 𝕀𝕏 -> 𝕏
ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟'𝕤 𝔹𝕠𝕕𝕪, 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞: 𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕕
Zane shivered.
His body—all his muscles, his tendons, his organs, hummed to the same pure note. And he felt then like one solid block of raw material—every inch of him at least a Heaven-grade steel now. Forged to a seamless machine.
𝔹𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕜 𝕞𝕖𝕥
ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞: 𝕊𝕒𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟 ℝ𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕠.
"With a week to spare, too!" said the Sage. "Ahh…"
They chomped meat and listened to the soothing sounds of giant beasts doing battle far below from their perch on that lonely peak—the life-and-death struggles churning endlessly through the night.
The Sage frowned at Zane. "You finish up that stint with the Fire-folk fast, you hear me?"
He patted Zane on the head with a bone. "First thing once you get back, we'll go out on safari and get you that Sacred Bone. For now…"
Then he took out a flagon and uncorked it.
"I've got a strict rule. No drinking in training! But now we're done with all that. So—a toast of Hardbeard's hundred-thousand-year-old vintage!"
He sloshed out a big helping of wine for Zane, held it up.
"To you, lad," said the Sage. He was getting a bit teary-eyed again. "I swear, I never felt as much damned joy as the past year you've been here…" The Sage wiped his ruddy nose. "When that Festival of Might comes—you go show 'em what the Titan Rhino can do!"
Zane nodded.
They toasted and drank. It burned going down, in a good way. And flooded him with essence.
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟜𝟞𝟛 -> 𝟜𝟞𝟜
***
At last, the fateful day had come.
It began with a hundred-cannon salute echoing down the town square—the Plaza of Titans. It was on.
Once a year, the whole Steelheart Conclave gathered for the Festival of Might.
Each Ascendant, Minor God, True God, and Empyrean who proved themselves the mightiest were crowned that year's Festival Champion. A statue of them would be put up in the 'Hall of Legends' for all to see—etched forever in history. Repeat champions, household names in the Conclave, got rubies set into their statues.
It was customary for everyone—even the Patriarch—to participate. Doing well at the Festival was often how you became Patriarch, or Grand Elder, or even went up to Inner Faction.
It was the galaxy's greatest celebration of strength.
Zane and the Sage teleported straight into the Conclave's main hub—the transformed Plaza of Titans—and saw the festival grounds.
Banners flapped to either side of the hard-packed main road, showing champions of years past. Throwing gleaming hammers, or deadlifting neutron-star cores—giants and dwarves alike, some bearded, others fresh-faced—all quite muscular. Stretching into the far distance… a thousand years of the strongest folk in history, stretching for miles.
Between the banners, stuck up on the sides of the road, were stalls selling legs of bloody meat as big as a man that promised boosts to their strength gains. Or sizzling fruit pies meant to jack up energy before a big lift. And ale—lots of it. Clinking and sloshing, spilling all over the streets.
There were armory stalls selling jewel-studded helms up to Heaven-grade, and breastplates once worn by galactic kings.
There were lots of little challenges too. King-of-the-Hill-type arenas where any and all were welcome to throw their hat in the ring. There were forging contests—two contestants would have half an hour to forge a sword and then duel each other with it. Whoever's weapon shattered first lost.
There was even a physique competition. One of the organizers, a dwarf, froze when he saw Zane—he tripped over his feet running over to try and recruit him. But the Sage shooed the fellow away. "Lad's busy!"
The streets were swamped with cheering folk. Zane had never seen so many muscles in his life.
"This way," said the Sage. He shepherded Zane through.
The crowd noticed him pretty fast. Even in this crowd, Zane stood out.
There was a rustle of gasps at first. Then cheers as more and more figured out where he was headed. What he was about to do.
He got many a back-slap as they went along the road.
"Look—it's Zane!"
"Woah…"
"You smash those lifts!"
"You've got this, big man!"
"Hells yeah!"
The road ended at the Titan's Trials.