Zeke rammed the gate, flexing his immense strength to give him more power. It shattered before him, launching backward across a courtyard and into a wall. It would have gone further, but the material of the gate was much weaker than the wall with which it had collided. So, it broke into pieces rather than smash through.
How had Zeke never recognized what he could do?
His attributes were not just representative of his traits. Strength didn’t really describe the power of his muscles. Instead, it was a conceptual representation of how his presence distorted reality. Sure, it meant that he could lift progressively heavier things, but it was far more than that, too.
And he’d only tapped into a small part of his potential. He suspected that most people failed to truly reach the pinnacle of what their attributes might allow. It was more than just his physical abilities. It was a measure of his mind, body, and soul all working in conjunction to exceed what should have been physically possible.
That was why he’d never truly maximized his abilities. It wasn’t about the numbers in his status. Rather, it was about belief. About knowing he could do anything he wanted. About shattering perceived limits.
And if there was one thing Zeke had grown to be very, very good at, it was shattering things.
Case in point, the destroyed gate that allowed him free entry into the citadel. He stomped through, his hammer in hand as he looked around. Above him, tens of thousands of warriors looked down on him, and he could feel their fear as a solid thing. For a moment, a pregnant silence stretched across the entire citadel until someone let loose an arrow.
It hit Zeke directly in the chest, bounced off, then clattered to the ground. He felt the mana blazing through it, and though the attack had not been weak, it was laughably insufficient to penetrate his metallic skin. Only a few hours before, it might’ve pierced him through, but he now understood his attributes and how the affected the world on a much deeper level.
The first attack was like the firing of a starter pistol, and only a moment later, every single one of the citadel’s defenders let loose with powerful skills. Zeke only stood there, waiting as he flexed his endurance. They flew unerringly, slamming into him with all the force of their high-level originators. Yet, Zeke stood firm, unharmed and unafraid.
He lost track of how long the attacks persisted. Minutes? Hours? It meant nothing. Each cast skill was like a mosquito bite, and one that was immediately healed by [Hand of Divinity].
Once, back in the Mortal Realm, he’d been forced to acknowledge that he had become the most powerful man in the world. As Zeke stood against the barrage of attacks, a similar thought flitted through his mind. He wasn’t certain if it was accurate, but in that moment, he certainly felt that nothing could stand before him.
He no longer felt like a powerful man. Instead, he was a god amongst mortals. A titan in truth.
He leaped, covering hundreds of feet in a second. When he began his descent, he did so with all the power he could muster. His hammer slammed into the top of the citadel’s wall, and anyone within thirty feet of the impact was simply vaporized. The wall itself shattered only a moment later, the point of the hammer’s contact exploding in a massive rift before cracks spread across the entire wall. Zeke hit the ground soon after, and when he turned around, he saw thousands of kobolds flooding through the now-destroyed gate.
They worked together to scale the wall from the inside, and soon enough, they were ripping through the panicked members of the Radiant Host. Those knights, mages, and archers had used every ounce of mana trying to destroy Zeke. Now, they had nothing left against the armies of the Crimson Tower.
As such, the results were predictable.
Zeke didn’t even need to kill them himself. He only had to watch from below as they cut through the enemy like a hot knife through butter. It was horrific. It was beautiful. But most of all, it was justified.
Those people had, at the very least, stood by while millions of people had been enslaved, oppressed, and abused. At worst, they’d participated in those detestable practices. So, they deserved every ill inflicted upon them by the kobolds.
Zeke’s army did not fight like avenging angels. There was no fury in the execution of their duty. They only did what they had been trained to do, advancing as one and crushing the enemy beneath the weight of their efficiency. The knights never had a chance to truly resist, and they fell in droves. Blood flowed down the wall, gathering in the cracks Zeke had created before pooling on the ground. It mixed with the dirt, creating bloodstained mud and filling the air with the smell of iron, death, excrement, and all the other aromas characteristic of a slaughter.
In the past, Zeke might have insisted upon participating in the rout, if only for the kill energy. However, he’d already reached the peak, and as such, he believed that the kobolds could benefit far more. After all, none of the remaining members of the Radiant Host were low-leveled, so without the mana to affect any skills, they became giant sacks of potential progression.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
So, Zeke remained where he was, ready to step in if necessary. Meanwhile, the battle outside the citadel progressed as well as the one on the walls. Tucker deployed some of his nastier potions, blanketing the entire area in caustic poison that killed the weaker members of the opposing army and weakened everyone else.
The kobolds were affected as well, but they had the benefit of Kianma’s spiritweavers as well as Jasper’s powerful songs to support them. As such, they were far less affected, which freed them to indiscriminately slaughter the enemy.
It was then that Zeke realized just how much the kobolds – and the beastkin as well – had grown. Not that long had passed since they were cowering beneath Min Ferilik, and now, they had become the most fearsome army in the Eternal Realm. What’s more, they had grown steadily more sapient with every passing day. Some of that was due to Tucker’s potions, but it was also the structure of the tower at play. As a species, they still had a long way to go, but if they kept on the way they were going, they would reach higher than he ever could have imagined.
And it would be even more dramatic once he unlocked the Hall of Affinities.
Just as that thought appeared in his mind, the main keep of the citadel shook, and Zeke felt a familiar power welling up from within. Corruption erupted from the keep, then spread across the battlefield, thick and caustic. Fortunately, his people had been inoculated against it via his twin domains, but that was far gentler than the wave of corruption crashing through the army.
“Retreat!” Zeke ordered, his words echoing through the courtyard and across the battlefield. “Into the gate!”
To their credit, the kobolds didn’t panic. Even as the caustic aura burning through them, they began an orderly retreat. At the same time, Jasper switched his songs to adapt to the new source of damage. The spiritweavers – as well as the other healers they’d coopted from the ranks of the beastkin – adjusted too. It wasn’t enough to completely shield the army from the effects of the corruption, but it was sufficient to give them time to retreat.
The level of corruption in the air continued to rise, wave after wave, as the earth shook. Meanwhile, the kobolds continued their retreat until only Zeke remained in the courtyard. The members of the Radiant Host were already dead. The ones who’d survived the battle with the Crimson Tower’s army could not bear the touch of so much corruption. It was a tough way to die, but given who they were, Zeke didn’t spare their fate much thought.
In any case, the entirety of his attention lay on the keep.
Or more importantly, on what he felt within. His senses weren’t keen enough to be certain, but he knew that something incredibly strong was coming for him.
“What do you think it is?” he asked aloud.
Eveline, who’d appeared beside him, answered, “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right to just be a demon.”
“If you had to guess?”
“I have no idea, Ezekiel. I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Zeke nodded. “You’d better disappear. I don’t want you to be hurt,” he said, intuiting that the coming fight was going to tax him at least as much as any other battle he’d ever experienced. “Go deep. Maybe completely into the tower, if you can. This is going to get bad, I think.”
For once, Eveline didn’t argue with him. Instead, she just said, “Be careful.” Then, without another word, she faded from view. A second later, even her presence within his mind disappeared. He could still feel her, though he could tell that she was far away. It was like looking at someone through frosted glass.
As he waited, Zeke rolled his shoulders and tightened his grip on his hammer. Even though, in his titanic form, he’d become quite an enormous figure, he felt progressively smaller as the enemy approached. Its aura reminded him of the Blood Wraith from so long ago. Not in the flavor, but rather, in the potency of the energy swirling around it.
He’d grown quite a bit since then, but he still wasn’t certain he could stand up to something on that level. But he also wasn’t entirely sure that he couldn’t.
He was eager to find out, though.
It wasn’t long before he got his chance, but the creature that emerged from the keep was not what he had expected. It was just a man, and one Zeke recognized.
“Ignatius?” he muttered aloud.
“In part,” the man answered, stepping forward. Corruption flowed out of him with every beat of his heart. “A small part, admittedly. Poor Ignatius likely regrets his choice. Inviting me into this world, giving me such a prime vessel. The Sun Goddess even gave me her blessing. Complete control over one of her little toys. He’s screaming inside, you know. Railing against my Will. He can’t win, of course. He is but a gnat compared to a god.”
“Bold claims,” Zeke stated.
“I once made you an offer,” the demon wearing Ignatius’ skin said, coming to a stop. He clutched his hands behind his back. “Do you remember, Ezekiel? I gave you a quest that you promptly ignored. A novel feeling, being ignored. I am not accustomed to such disdain.”
“Oda.”
“Ah, so you do remember me. That is…gratifying.”
“How are you here?” Zeke demanded.
“I was invited,” Oda stated with Ignatius’ voice. “Only a few years ago, I made a deal with little Shar Maelaine. She wanted to borrow a few of my followers, and I wanted to let them rampage a bit. Of course, I never anticipated that they would be destroyed so thoroughly. You truly have raised a unique army, Ezekiel. They are far more capable than anyone could have anticipated.”
He stepped to the side, and Zeke turned to follow his movement. That brought a slight chuckle. “With that failure, I never expected to hear from the Sun Goddess again. However, you truly must have offended her, because she came to me with an offer I simply could not refuse. Putting down someone with the spark of divinity is quite an accomplishment, and I shall savor the reward for doing so.”
“You’ve come to kill me?”
“I have come to drain you,” Oda stated. “Did no one tell you? The second you took your first steps down the road to divinity, you put a target on your own back. Those of us who can sense it will hunt you down, kill you, and take that power for our own. It is only a drop, but even that is enough to –”
Zeke didn’t allow the possessed leader of the Imperium to utter another word before he threw himself at him. He tore across the courtyard, his feet barely touching the ground as he aimed to end the threat before it could ever truly present itself.