Zeke let out a sigh of relief as [Hand of Divinity] flooded into him, mending his wounds in only moments. The skill didn’t expel the arrowheads in his back, but rather, melted them down so they could join his now-transformed titanic body. Often, he’d chastised himself for using [Titan] as a crutch, but with the sounds of battle crashing through the city, he knew he needed every advantage he could get.
A slight sound from behind alerted him, and he glanced back to see that Pudge and the Inashi had arrived. He’d been vaguely aware that they were around, killing the archers in the arena’s stands, but Pudge hadn’t been fast enough to reach him before Abby made her move.
Thankfully, his assistance hadn’t been necessary, though Zeke expected that his brother was likely to feel guilty because of how it had gone down. Pudge took those sorts of things very seriously, after all.
“Wonder where he gets it,” Eveline said.
Zeke ignored her as he and the others strode forward. He was tempted to run, but he didn’t want to blunder into a battle in progress. He didn’t fear for his safety – not now – but he also knew just how precise the kobolds’ battle strategy usually was. If he fouled their lines, they wouldn’t thank him.
“Are you going to say anything?” Abby asked. “No questions? Comments?”
“Micayne lived through what happened in the Mortal Realm,” Zeke said at once.
“What?”
“He was alive,” he reiterated. “Ended up here in the Eternal Realm. He destroyed an entire city of undead and enslaved the population. I killed most of them, but he got away.”
“He’s still out there?” Abby asked.
Zeke shook his head. “Talia found him, and we killed him. For good this time. And no one had to betray any of their friends to do it.”
Perhaps he wasn’t as over her betrayal as he thought.
Eveline gave him a mental roll of her eyes. “You think?”
“Zeke, I didn’t –”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Abby,” he firmly stated. “The only reason I’m tolerating your presence right now is because we had a deal. Otherwise, we’d be fighting, and this time, I wouldn’t let you get away.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. Before he could respond, she spoke over him, saying, “I know you don’t want to hear it, and I don’t blame you for that. I regret so much about what happened. About how everything went down. I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I know you’ll never forget. But I wanted to apologize anyway, if only because I don’t think I’ll ever get another chance.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re ascending, right? You’re at the peak. I know you’re not one to sit still and conquer this world,” Abby explained. “So, ascension is the only option. I don’t intend to go anywhere, so this will probably be the last time I see you.”
“You don’t plan to ascend?”
She shook her head. “I’m done with chasing that kind of thing,” she said. “I just want to find somewhere quiet to settle down. This life, all the conflict, it’s only brought me pain. It’s not worth it.”
That was moderately surprising to Zeke. Going all the way back to the first time he’d met Abby, she’d been striving to prove herself worthy. Of what, he wasn’t sure, but it had been such an integral part of her identity that her declaration that she no longer cared about it struck him as more than a little off.
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“You haven’t really spoken to me for years, Zeke. People change. I’ve changed,” she argued. “Sometimes forcefully. Sometimes as a defense mechanism. I don’t want the same things I used to want.”
“And what do you want?” he asked.
“Peace. Love. Simplicity. Mostly, I just want to be left alone.”
He didn’t immediately respond to that statement. Did she have the right of it? After all, Zeke already had enough power to live like a king. He could spend the rest of his days – thousands of years, if he wanted – lounging around and living off the spoils of conquest. Maybe he and Adara could even start a family. Perhaps they could be happy.
But that wasn’t what he wanted. Or more appropriately, it wasn’t what he needed.
For better or worse, Zeke thrived on conflict. Without it, he would be lost. Even the past year or so of besieging Eldoria had left him incredibly bored and feeling purposeless. He’d staved that off by remembering that he was there for a reason and rededicating himself to training. However, that wouldn’t work without an ultimate goal. He needed to work toward something. Otherwise, he would likely fall into a deep depression, not unlike what had happened when he’d found he could no longer play baseball.
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That was something he never wanted to revisit.
Still, he was happy for Abby. Despite how much he still blamed her for what she had done, he didn’t want her to suffer. If she could find peace, then good for her.
He said as much, adding, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Me too.”
After that, the pair went silent. Pointedly, Zeke was well aware of just how much his attitude differed from Talia’s. If he hadn’t been there, he felt certain that she would have already ripped Abby to pieces. She had no desire to see the hated woman make peace with herself.
For his part, Pudge seemed mostly indifferent. Did he even remember his time with Abby? From their few conversations on the subject, Zeke knew that Pudge’s memories of the Mortal Realm were, at best, blurry. He remembered them more as feelings than as actual recollections.
So, when he looked at Abby, he only saw a figure from his distant past. She was just blip on the radar of his existence.
That struck Zeke as incredibly sad. Abby had done a lot of things wrong, but she’d always loved Pudge. He remembered those first few days after they’d met, when he was training Pudge to survive. She had been so concerned with him. They’d cuddled together at night, and she had treated him like a wayward puppy.
Not a terrible characterization, if Zeke was honest.
But Pudge was no longer that little dire bear cub. He was his own person now, separate from Zeke but still part of his family.
Abby could not lay claim to the same.
Whatever the case, Zeke didn’t have long to dwell on those thoughts before he led the others into the largest-scale battle any of them had encountered. There were hundreds of thousands of kobolds on the field, and they were opposed by just as many members of the Radiant Host. Somehow, the soldiers of the Imperium had managed to attack from behind. Another force had attacked from the citadel, and all the while, heavy siege weapons rained powerful balls of mana down on the beleaguered army.
Soon enough, Zeke spotted Silik only a hundred yards away. He announced his intentions to his companions, then lowered his shoulder and bowled his way through the knights in his way. After only a few moments, he reached what appeared to be a command post. Silik was there, as were Tucker and Jasper. Even Kianma had come out of the nearby gate.
“What’s going on? What happened?” Zeke demanded.
“They attacked, Ak-toh, just like you predicted,” Silik answered. “We were still taken by surprise. They materialized out of nowhere, attacking from the rear. When we adjusted to that, another force spilled out of the citadel, hitting us from the other direction. We are holding our own, but if nothing changes, we will take heavy casualties.”
“The other armies?”
“Also attacked,” Silik said.
“Dammit,” he growled. He hadn’t truly believed they’d be constrained by the contract, but he hadn’t expected so many to have been housed within the citadel. It was certainly big enough, but his intelligence had indicated that there were far fewer soldiers within.
What’s worse, he sensed something in the air that he hadn’t expected.
“Demons,” he said after a moment. “Is there a portal here?”
Abby shook her head. “Not that I know of. But Ignatius has dealt with them before, as you know. So, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Zeke swore again.
Then, he looked at Tucker. “Are you okay with doing your thing?” he asked.
The alchemist shook his head. “Are you sure you want me to go down that route? It’s not going to be pretty,” he said.
“I don’t see that we have much choice.”
Without his most powerful skills, Zeke had no ability to quickly clear out large swathes of troops. And the longer it took to defeat the opposing army, the more casualties his side would experience.
“Do it, Tucker. Talia, I want you to focus on killing their healers. Pudge, you and the Inashi hit their officers,” Zeke ordered. “Jasper, just keep playing your songs.”
“Of course, my friend.”
“What about me?” asked Abby.
“Shoot as many of these bastards as you can,” Zeke said.
“What will you do, Ak-toh?”
Zeke summoned Voromir and searched the battlefield for an appropriate route to the citadel. And with the mass of knights in his way, he knew that there was only way – straight through. “I’m going to make a hole,” he said.
Then, without further discussion, he sprinted forward. As he did so, he swung his massive hammer, activating the weapon’s ability along the way. A huge, crimson version of Voromir manifested before swiping through the air in a hundred-yard arc in front of Zeke.
The knights had no chance.
Even a few kobolds were caught in the wash. However, Zeke had to trust that they could take it, and even if they were injured, Kianma and her spiritweavers would simply need to heal them. For his part, Zeke couldn’t let himself be bothered by their fate. If he didn’t get through, then everyone in the army was going to die at the foot of the citadel.
Mana cannons continued to fire, hitting the battlefield like artillery shells of pure magical energy. Huge sprays of dirt, charred body parts, and stone erupted into the air with each impact. Zeke took one directly in the chest, but he was far more durable than the ground or a few soldiers. Even so, he was more than a little singed, though he had [Hand of Divinity] on his side to mitigate those effects.
He forged ahead, and when he found himself facing off against another horde of soldiers, he swung Voromir once again. This time, though, they were ready for it. The mana-construct slammed into a shimmering blue shield, shattering without doing any damage whatsoever. A second later, the knights opened up. Thousands of arrows filled the air, accompanied by fireballs, ice shards, and every other manifestation of a mage skill imaginable.
They all hit Zeke at the same time, burying him under a deluge of destruction that felt like it was ripping him apart. His body melted and froze, was pierced through and crushed. All the while, he kept [Hand of Divinity] going at full blast, though even that mighty skill was taxed by the sheer amount of damage inflicted upon him.
Yet, if there was one thing Zeke could count on, it was his ability to outlast and endure. So, he tapped into that, and just as he’d begun to understand his other attributes in novel ways, so too did he comprehend his endurance on an entirely new level. He quite possibly possessed the stoutest defenses in the world – especially when his resistances were taken into account – so how could a few spells ever hurt him? He sank into his own thoughts, grabbing hold of that notion and forcing his body to respond.
Suddenly, arrows that had, only a moment before, easily torn through him were now stopped cold without even penetrating his metallic skin. Spells washed over him like they were nothing, and when he finally pushed through the cascade of destruction, he was entirely remade by [Hand of Divinity].
That was when they started to panic.
And they were right to do so.