It wasn’t until Zeke saw the comparatively small head – like that of a snake – at the end of the tendril that he realized he wasn’t dealing with some sort of undead tentacle monster. Instead, he faced a many-headed creature, not unlike a hydra out of Greek mythology.

Except that it was clearly undead.

The thing struck him in the chest, knocking him backward. However, the power disparity wasn’t nearly as broad as he’d expected. In the past, if something had him that hard, he would have been crushed. Certainly, he likely would have survived by virtue of [Hand of Divinity], but he definitely would not have done so without that skill patching him up.

Now, though, he didn’t even need that. Instead, he took the attack with minimal damage, which seemed to surprise the hydra. It pulled back, clearly confused as to why Zeke hadn’t been obliterated.

He took that opportunity to leap towards it, wrap his arms around its thick, tree trunk neck, and start squeezing. Its rotting flesh proved no real deterrent to his strength, and it was only a second or two before he found bone. Gripping the vertebrae, he wrenched them apart, decapitating the monster.

But as Zeke fell to the ground, he saw a dozen other heads coming his way.

More distressingly, the one he’d just decapitated was already regenerating. The flesh didn’t look like it was going to come back, but the bone was growing at a noticeable rate.

In Greek mythology, the hydra was killed by severing its heads and burning the stumps. However, Zeke didn’t exactly have a bunch of fire at his disposal. If he’d had [Eye of Reckoning] or [Hell Geyser] available, things would have been very different. But without them? He needed a different sort of strategy – and he needed it quickly, or he was going to end up getting ripped to pieces by the hydra’s many heads.

He caught the first to hit him, wrapping his arms around its serpentine head. He skidded backward a few feet, but he managed to arrest his momentum just before he tipped over the edge and into the roiling green liquid. Then, with a heave, he yanked the giant, tentacle-like neck, pivoting on one heel and twisting his hips.

To Zeke’s surprise, the thing didn’t just rip free. Instead, as he harnessed every ounce of strength he possessed, he pulled the entire monstrosity from the troughs cutting through the floor.

The physics of it didn’t make sense. Zeke knew that even as he continued to twist, swinging the creature around like he was an Olympic hammer thrower. Its many heads went wild, hissing and roaring in confusion and anger, until Zeke slammed it into the nearest wall.

The entire chamber shook as if it had been hit with a significant earthquake. But even as dust and debris rained down from the domed ceiling, Zeke knew his efforts wouldn’t be enough. The hydra was barely even hurt – its bulbous body was thick with blubber like a walrus, which cushioned it from the blow.

It was incredibly angry, though.

“It doesn’t like you very much,” Eveline remarked as Zeke shifted his feet. “You probably shouldn’t have messed with it.”

“What the hell even is this thing?”

“You ask as if I know. No [Inspect], remember? But it looks like a nydarian hydra. Undead, of course. They’re incredibly dangerous when fully grown. Which this one is. Good luck.”

That was all Eveline got out before the monster threw itself – and all of its heads – at Zeke. He whirled, summoning his hammer to hand as he met their charge with his own attacks. The first head to reach him exploded at the end of his countering blow, and even as that neck went limp, whipping backwards from the momentum of the attack, Zeke spun to hit the next in line.

He used every point of agility and dexterity at his disposal, and his hammer became a blur. It was easy to get wrapped up in the effect of his increased strength and endurance, but the tier-up in agility and dexterity was almost as impactful. What was once a relative weakness had become another strength, and he used that increased speed and control to maximize the effect of his defense.

Soon enough, the hydra was entirely de-headed, though the very first had already regenerated. There was no flesh to be seen – instead, it was just a bleached white skull at the end of a meaty trunk.

“Disturbing,” Eveline remarked.

Zeke could not disagree.

But as off-putting as that sight was, he was more concerned with the other issue before him.

“There weren’t so many necks before, were there?” he muttered to himself.

“Definitely not. Seems as if you’re getting the true hydra treatment. Sever a head, and two shall sprout in its place,” Eveline answered. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

Fair or not, the situation was what it was, and Zeke needed to figure out a new plan. Or he’d end up overwhelmed. He could keep fighting for a long time, but his stamina was not infinite.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Suddenly, he felt something shift behind him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Pudge had pushed himself to his feet. The bearkin was disheveled and disoriented, but he was alive and mostly unhurt – so long as the psychological damage of being tortured wasn’t taken into account.

But as concerned as Zeke was with his brother’s well-being, there were other, more immediate issues to confront. And more importantly, Pudge represented the perfect counter to the problem at hand.

“Pudge! Burn the stumps when I destroy the heads!”

The former dire bear grunted, and mana swirled around his hands. A second later, they burst into red-and-black flames the burned with heat and corruption. At that moment, Zeke met another barrage of hydra heads.

He once again whirled his hammer, smashing the darting heads aside with as much viciousness as he could manage. There was definitely something to be said for being able to move so quickly, but without his strength, it would have been largely useless. The combination was devastating, and Zeke battered the hydra’s many heads until they, too, exploded from the sheer force of his blows.

Dutifully, Pudge stepped in on wobbly feet and bathed the stumps in hellfire. It burned hotter than ever before, charring the dead flesh and bone to a crisp. One by one, they fell, limp and unmoving, until, at last, the creature collapsed.

But it wasn’t dead.

The bulbous body continued to writhe like an overfilled maggot.

“I really don’t want to do this,” Zeke muttered, eyeing the thing’s bulging stomach. He could see something writhing beneath. “Do you think we could just burn it from the outside?”

“Maybe,” Eveline said. “But it’ll be easier from the inside.”

Zeke had been afraid of that. But at the end of the day, he didn’t have any other options. So, he told Pudge what he planned, then took a deep breath before ramming his hammer into the hydra’s body. The thing was the size of a Greyhound bus, and it was just as durable as that implied. Zeke’s hammer rebounded from the monster’s rubbery hide, but the resulting frustration only served to spur him ahead. And the second attack managed to open a crack in its slick and rotting flesh.

Zeke seized upon that opening, aiming his next five attacks at it. Each one further widened the gash until it gaped like an open wound.

“Roast it,” he commanded.

Pudge staggered forward, raised his hands, and sent a pillar of hellfire deep within the decaying monster’s torso. At first, nothing happened, but after only a few seconds, a thousand tiny tendrils burst free – clearly they were nascent versions of the heads – ready to bite and tear their attacker to pieces.

Fortunately, Zeke was there to fend them off. He shouted, “Keep going!”

Pudge didn’t need any further encouragement, and he redoubled his efforts, roasting the thing’s insides. Meanwhile, Zeke had abandoned his hammer in favor of his own two hands, which he used to grab and twist the heads free before crushing them underfoot.

But there always seemed to be more.

Hundreds of the things kept coming, and each one was more than capable of taking a chunk out of his metallic flesh. Many did just that, sending his silvery blood to join the slurry of pulverized necrotic flesh at his feet.

Pudge maintained his hellfire, pouring more and more into the opening. It was so hot that even Zeke felt uncomfortable being so close to the raging inferno. But if it was capable of stinging even him, then it was more than enough to turn the hydra to ash.

It just took a while.

At first, the thing just bubbled and spat steam, but soon enough, all the moisture was gone. Then, the flesh turned to an unidentifiable goo, which in turn, became ash. Only then did Zeke feel the influx of kill energy that announced the creature’s true death.

And to his surprise, it pushed him to level one hundred, a feat that was accompanied by a Framework notification:

Congratulations! You have reached the peak of power for this realm. In order to ascend to the next realm, find and climb the Steps to Heaven. Until then, you may not advance your levels.

It was odd that the notification didn’t include the alternate route that Zeke intended to take. Then again, going to hell and descending to the next circle wasn’t something most people could accomplish. Even those who’d reached the peak would be adversely affected by the corrupted atmosphere.

Zeke wasn’t as concerned about that than he was with his brother’s well-being. So, he laid his hand on Pudge’s shoulder and, as he channeled [Hand of Divinity], asked, “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?” Zeke asked, alarmed.

“Everything. That…that was bad. Really bad. I…I don’t…I don’t want to talk about it,” Pudge answered.

Only then did Zeke recognize that Pudge’s problem wasn’t physical. Rather, he was dealing with the psychological aftermath of enduring so much torture. Zeke had experienced something similar, and though he’d not let it adversely affect him – at least not where other people could see – he knew just how difficult it was to overcome such trauma.

“I’m here for you,” Zeke said, giving Pudge’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do whatever I can. If it’s just that you want to talk, that’s fine. I’m just…I’m here for you.”

Pudge only nodded as he cast his gaze toward the floor. After a few moments, he said, “We should leave.”

That statement was punctuated by a rumble from up above. The implications were clear. Whether it was due to the battle against the hydra or because of some other factor, the subterranean complex beneath the castle was clearly on the verge of collapse.

“Can’t argue with that. You need help?” Zeke asked.

“I’m fine.”

Zeke wasn’t so sure about that. Pudge looked like he was on the verge of collapse. But he knew that it wasn’t the time to point that out. So, Zeke led the way from the chamber and out into the corridor through which he’d entered. It was just in time, too, because the ceiling collapsed only a few seconds later.

“You should probably hurry,” Eveline pointed out.

It was good advice, and Zeke embraced it as he ran through the corridor. Pudge followed, moving a little more quickly than Zeke could have expected. The bearkin wasn’t injured, but he was clearly so exhausted that it had become a labor to put one foot in front of the next. He kept up, though, which was all that really mattered at the moment.

More rapidly than Zeke thought possible, they raced through the progressively collapsing tunnels, and eventually, they emerged into the courtyard where the army had fought a battle against a horde of zombies. They’d acquitted themselves well, if the piles of decaying flesh was anything to go by. But the real measure of success was how many casualties it had cost them to accomplish that feat.

There was a rush of wind, and then, suddenly, Talia was standing before him. “Is it done? Is he dead?”

“Entirely. I got kill energy for it,” Zeke said.

“Good. I only wish that I could have struck the killing blow,” Talia stated. Truthfully, Zeke wished he could have given her that opportunity. However, that just wasn’t possible. It would have been far too dangerous. “What now?”

“Back to the tower to regroup. Then, we’re finishing this war with the Radiant Host.”