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Death: Genesis
626. Thinking on His Feet

626. Thinking on His Feet

Zeke leaped high into the air, intent on ending the fight before it had a chance to truly begin. However, when he swung Voromir in a sledgehammer strike that should have caved the Warden’s chest in, he found nothing but air. He passed through the knight-like creature’s torso like it was nothing, and he hit the ground only a moment later. Stunned, he stumbled – which was probably the only thing that saved him.

The Warden’s great sword sliced through the air only a few inches in front of him, slamming down with enough momentum to create a shockwave that knocked Zeke off course. He rolled to the side, still a little stunned, but he regained his wits soon enough to leap aside when the Warden aimed another blow his way.

When he rose to his feet, he saw that his foe was still just as solid as ever. Zeke couldn’t help but notice that the fog had thickened around the Warden, though.

He approached more cautiously, wishing he had access to his skills. But as they had been for what felt like an eternity, they were still locked away behind Oberon’s cage. It had been a necessary measure, and without the dwarf’s help, Zeke would have been eaten alive by his own power. However, just because it was crucial didn’t mean that Zeke was happy about the lack.

What’s more, he felt that it had grown far more flexible than it had been before. Still a long way from brittle, and he knew he didn’t currently possess the strength to break it. Yet, he suspected that wouldn’t always be the case. After all, it was always meant to be a temporary measure. He wasn’t sure how long he’d wandered the Plains of the Forgotten, but it was not a short amount of time.

Did that mean he had a time-limit on his descent?

He wasn’t certain, but what he did know was that he needed more information about the Warden’s abilities. So, to that end, he knelt down and grabbed a rock. It was about the size of a softball, which meant that it was perfect for what he had in mind. With a flick of his arm, he tossed it forward, but with his strength, it sped along with the speed of a bullet. When it should have crashed into the Warden, something troubling happened.

The creature became mist, and the rock passed through it without incident. More importantly, the fog swirled around the creature, thickening and extending tendrils of mist more than fifty feet out. Zeke didn’t need a warning to know that he didn’t want to be touched by those fog tendrils. He could see the power glowing within them, and he suspected that if he touched them – even for an instant – he would experience symptoms similar to what he’d felt in the Plains.

“How the hell am I supposed to beat this asshole?” he wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Eveline admitted. “Mind mage, remember? I always had others fight for me. But you’re right about not getting touched by the fog. They’ll steal your memories, just like the mist in the Plains of the Forgotten.”

That was as Zeke had expected, but without any help from his resident mind parasite, he didn’t know what to do.

And unfortunately, the brief delay while he was trying to think up a strategy had deleterious effects on the battle. Even as he stood there, the mist continued to swirl, eventually concentrating into six figures. They weren’t as large as the Warden, but they were all still much bigger than Zeke.

“Keepers,” he muttered, recognizing the ivory statues that had dogged his journey through the Plains. He’d wondered where they came from, but seeing that they were apparently created by the fog was both comforting and troubling. The first, because having an explanation for how they suddenly appeared in his path removed some of the mystery from the Pit. Knowing that they followed some sort of rules was reassuring.

“Even if those rules are bullshit,” he said to himself.

It troubled him because there was a lot of fog around, which meant that there was plenty of fuel to make more Keepers. But that gave him an idea. If the fog was the problem, and it was used to create the Keepers, then wasn’t his path clear? He raced toward the first, smashing his hammer into the thing’s leg. It crumbled beneath his strength, and he finished it off a second after it fell. Even as his hammer descended into the summoned monster’s ivory head, a tendril of mist threatened to envelop him.

He fought it off by waving the lantern in its direction.

It dimmed slightly, but the fog dissipated. It was an encouraging sign. Zeke didn’t know how he was going to deal with the Warden, but he had a strategy for destroying the Keepers. That was enough for now.

After that, Zeke went on a rampage, smashing through the Keepers with impressive fury. Some, he managed to fell with a single blow, but most required more than a few hits to bring down. That was okay, though, because with each fallen enemy, the fog dissipated.

Of course, his task was exacerbated by the Warden’s continued participation. Every now and again, the sword would fall, and with enough speed that Zeke struggled to avoid it. If he lost focus even for a second, he knew he would be split in two. And without [Hand of Divinity] to bring him back, he wouldn’t stand a chance of survival.

Fortunately, Zeke’s many years of battle served him well. His instincts were well-honed, and his reflexes were even more developed. So, as long as he kept his head on a swivel, he could remain unscathed.

So, he waged a small war against the Keepers, destroying them while avoiding direct conflict with the Warden. That task was exacerbated by the fact that, with each destroyed Keeper, another coalesced from the fog. So, in terms of the number of enemies he faced, he never made any visible progress.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

But he could see the fog thinning, which was all the encouragement he needed.

The Warden clearly took issue with Zeke’s strategy, and its blows came faster and more frequently than ever before. That allowed Zeke to experiment a bit, and he found that no matter how quickly he acted, the second he came close to the creature – or its weapon – it became incorporeal. That didn’t bode well for Zeke’s continued success. If he couldn’t hit the thing, then he couldn’t beat it.

Something told him that if he’d had access to his Will – or skills like [Wrath of Annihilation] – he wouldn’t have had any issue killing the creature. He’d yet to find anything that could stand up to either, at least in the long term, and as powerful as the Warden was, Zeke didn’t believe it was that strong.

But who knew how things worked in Hell? Zeke had already established that it didn’t follow the rules with which he was familiar, so there was every chance that the Warden would have simply walked through [Wrath of Annihilation] unscathed.

In any case, Zeke didn’t have those skills available, so he put them out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the problem at hand. With that in mind, he continued his onslaught against the Keepers, ever mindful of the Warden’s blade. With every ten Keepers he destroyed, the mist dissipated until, after countless hours of battle, the area was almost entirely devoid of fog.

Except around the Warden, who seemed a little panicked.

For his part, Zeke was both encouraged and a little uncertain how to proceed. On the one hand, he’d proven that he could keep going almost indefinitely. Either because of his powerful constitution or Hell shenanigans – he truly wasn’t certain which applied – he didn’t need to eat or drink. And his body was inexhaustible. He wasn’t going to give in anytime soon.

However, he still hadn’t figured out how to beat the Warden.

Was he intended to simply wear it down? That might work, but for some reason, it just didn’t seem like the right answer. He needed something better. He needed information if he was going to figure it out.

So, without further ado, he decided to start experimenting. One attack after another, he explored the Warden’s limitations. And to his horror, he found none. More, he discovered that if he got too close, those tendrils of mist were more than capable of lashing out.

It only took experiencing that once for Zeke to vow to never again let it happen. The second the tendril wrapped around him, he felt a wave of cold that sapped both his strength and muddled his concentration. Instinctively, he threw himself backward just in time to narrowly avoid the Warden’s descending blade.

Slowly, over the next few minutes, his mind cleared, and his power returned. Yet, the implication was clear. If he allowed those tentacles of fog free rein, they would end him just as quickly as the Warden’s sword.

But Zeke also discovered that the creature was even more intangible than ever. Before, it only turned to mist at the last second, but now, it spent more time in that form than it did in its more solid state.

“It so obvious,” he said, suddenly coming upon a solution.

And it was. That he hadn’t thought of it immediately was a testament to his dogmatic dedication to only relying on his own body. But he’d had the proper tool the whole time. He just needed to use it.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” asked Eveline.

He stalked forward, his hammer in one hand and the solution to the fight in the other. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Then, without further hesitation, he cocked his arm back and threw the Lantern of Clarity at the Warden. Only when it left his hand did he realize how easily his strategy could go wrong. If he was mistaken about what it would do, he would lose one of his most powerful defenses.

But it was too late to rethink it.

Doubts would help no one. He was committed, and there was nothing he could do to change course.

The Lantern of Clarity sailed through the air, and to Zeke’s perception, it did so in slow motion. He held his breath, praying that it wouldn’t simply pass through the Warden’s incorporeal body. Then, finally, it reached his enemy.

And exploded.

Shards of Memory rode a wave of force and light that tore through the surrounding area, burning through the remnants of fog as the Warden let loose a massive roar. The scream contained infinite pain and rage, though Zeke was far more concerned with the aftermath.

He watched as the Warden solidified into an ivory statue.

Just like the Keepers.

Zeke thought the fight was over until he saw the thing move. Its motion was twitchy, but far faster than ever before, and when it sighted in on Zeke, it moved with such alacrity that he couldn’t hope to avoid it. The sword bit deep into his shoulder, shattering his clavicle and digging into his flesh.

But it stopped before bisecting him, which was more than he could have expected.

The Warden retracted its blade, cocking its head as if confused that Zeke wasn’t dead. For his part, Zeke didn’t hesitate. Using his hammer one-handed wasn’t ideal, but due to its properties, he could swing it well enough with a single hand. And he wasn’t going to let his gaping wound slow him down.

He charged forward, swinging Voromir with all his might. Its head slammed into the Warden’s knee, sending a deep crack arcing up its thigh. But Zeke had seen enough that he couldn’t allow his momentum to dissipate. Even as the Warden aimed its sword at him, Zeke used the creature’s on legs to shield himself from reprisal. He dipped behind it, and a second later, the tip of the blade slammed into the ground in the location he’d just vacated.

That would have finished the job for sure.

He didn’t allow it to repeat the feat. Instead, he circled the monster’s legs, hammering into it as rapidly as his arm could move. And slowly, the creature’s stance began to crumble.

Then, when he aimed a particularly brutal blow at its calf, the right leg fell to pieces. It remained upright, balancing on one leg, but the loss of the other leg was the signal that announced its eventual demise. After that, it wasn’t long until Zeke managed to shatter the other leg. It fell, and when it hit, it did so with enough force to author an enormous shockwave that nearly cost Zeke the battle.

However, he maintained his footing and leaped upon its chest. Once he got there, he spent an untold amount of time dodging its awkward attacks as he slowly destroyed its torso.

Eventually, he found his way to its heart.

And it his surprise, it looked just like a human organ, fleshy and full of blood. It also pulsed with so much mana that Zeke struggled to remain in its presence. He’d endured the aura of powerful natural treasures before, but this one was easily one of the strongest.

It was too bad, then, that he needed to destroy it.

Not that it mattered. He didn’t have access to his storage, so he couldn’t take it with him. So, with one last hammer blow, he crushed the organ. Only then did the Warden’s struggles cease.

The battle won, Zeke climbed free of the cavity he’d dug into the creature’s chest. Then, he looked around, seeing that the mist had begun to gather. He didn’t want to be there when it returned, especially since he’d destroyed his only defense against it. So, grievously wounded and weary, he leaped from the monster’s prone form and trekked toward the now-open gate leading to the next circle of Hell.