Zeke crouched at the edge of the plaza, unsure of what he was looking at. On the surface, it was Abby fighting – and losing – against the men who’d attacked her so long ago. Yet, it didn’t take him long to surmise that things were not what they seemed. For one, Abby herself seemed far more beautiful than she ever had back then. And that was saying something, considering that even back then, Zeke had considered her one of the most enticing women he’d ever seen.
However, this version of her was exaggerated in a dozen different ways. It reminded Zeke of the proportions used for comic book characters back on Earth, and her body seemed to have been designed to appeal directly to the male gaze. And it worked, especially with the artful tears in her armor that exposed her flesh. Oddly, none of her injuries did much to lessen her beauty – like a Hollywood actor who’d just been in a big, climactic fight.
It was patently odd, and Zeke couldn’t quite put his finger on why it bothered him so much. One thing was certain, though – he very much wanted to rush in and save her. He held back, though, largely because he could feel the alien influences on his mind. He’d moved on from Abby. She was an acknowledged part of his past, but she would never be part of his future.
For all he knew, she was dead and gone. After all, years has passed since he left the Eternal Realm. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like it, but it was true nonetheless. Zeke had no idea what he’d find when he finally completed his descension and could once again access the Crimson Tower.
One thing he knew for certain was that Abby was gone.
So, whoever it was in that plaza fighting against those men – it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be.
Yet, the longer Zeke watched, the less he cared about that. Especially with every strip of skin that was exposed. What tipped him over the edge was when they finally cornered and disarmed her. Those men surrounded her, and judging by their lustful expressions, their intentions were clear.
And when one of them – the leader whose name was entirely forgotten – grabbed her roughly, Zeke couldn’t stop himself from acting. Not because he wanted her for himself, but rather, because he couldn’t stomach standing by and watching what he knew was coming.
At least that’s what he told himself.
The emotions skating through his mind said something else entirely. He shut his fantasies away as he thundered across the plaza, cocked his arm back, and delivered a vicious hammer blow to one of the attackers. The man might’ve worn the face from Zeke’s memory, but he definitely didn’t move like those old foes. Back then, he’d had no difficulty with the fight, but now, his foe deftly swayed to the side, avoiding the attack, then darted forward.
A second later, Zeke had a dagger buried in his ribs.
It hurt, but more than anything else, it infuriated him. Ignoring the pain, he lashed out with a backhand that sent the attacker staggering backward with a broken jaw. Then, he threw himself at the next foe, tackling him to the ground. Without hesitation, he rammed his fist into the man’s temple, knocking him senseless.
That’s when a sword blade fell upon his back, cutting deep. Thankfully, the blade stopped when it hit his rigid spine. As was often the case, Zeke ignored the agony of nearly having his spine severed and sprang to his feet. Whirling around, he let his hammer’s head lead the way.
He was rewarded with a solid crunch as one of the attackers’ skulls was crushed. But the move also opened Zeke up to a half dozen counterattacks, and he was in no position to avoid a single one. His body reacted on instinct, flaring his endurance to meet those attacks head-on. It wasn’t enough to deflect the blades, but it certainly lessened their effect.
That surprised the attackers, which gave Zeke an opportunity to turn the tides of battle. Normally, he had no issues fighting against multiple opponents, but in Hell, power levels tended to fluctuate. He knew he should have been far superior to his current foes, but at the moment, he wasn’t much stronger than he’d been back in the Mortal Realm. So, there was real danger in such a fight.
Zeke didn’t care.
Not only had his lust for battle enveloped his mind, but it had mingled with his need to rescue and protect Abby. The result was that there was absolutely zero chance of backing down. Even strategic thinking was out of the question. Instead, he sank into a berserker state where the only thing that mattered was defeating – and killing – his enemies.
With a roar, he dipped low and shattered a man’s kneecap with a short hammer swing. He screamed in pain as his knee buckled, but he didn’t immediately fall. The head of his axe did, though, cutting into Zeke’s shoulder. On instinct, he channeled [Hand of Divinity], but as was the case with his attributes, it was far weaker than normal. It only provided a trickle of healing, which was enough to stem the flow of blood but not much else.
It did keep him going, though, and that was all he really cared about.
He flexed his legs, then dove at the man’s lone healthy leg. As his shoulder hit the joint, it snapped. But Zeke didn’t stop there. Instead, he dropped his hammer, wrapped his arms around the leg, then lifted. The man tried to resist, but he was in far too much pain to concentrate on anything but the agony of having both of his legs snapped like twigs. Zeke used that to his advantage, flipping him through the air. He sailed away, landing in a tangled heap after only ten or fifteen feet.
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Zeke had enough control not to immediately pounce on the fallen man. Instead, he acknowledged that the enemy was out of the fight, which was all that really mattered at the moment. With that in mind, he whirled to face the remaining six opponents. That was more than he remembered from when he’d first met Abby, but at the moment, he couldn’t afford the focus to really think about it.
Instead, he had six more men to kill, and one of them looked head-and-shoulders above the rest. Suddenly, Zeke remembered his name.
“Julio.”
That brought the fight to a stop, much to Zeke’s irritation.
“You know me, brute?”
Zeke clenched his fists, studying his opponent. Julio was handsome – there was no denying that – but it was the sort of attractiveness that put people in mind of a predator. And not the kind that hunted other animals. Perhaps it was because Zeke knew the man’s backstory – at least a little – but when he looked at Julio’s sharp features, all he could see was a man who refused to take no for an answer.
And that infuriated him.
So, he didn’t bother responding to Julio’s question. It was irrelevant. All that mattered was crushing that handsome face. So, he dashed forward, his hammer entirely forgotten. He was armed only with his fists, and that was more than enough to deal with someone like Julio.
The man reacted quickly, stepping forward and thinking his slender sword would be enough to defeat Zeke. In most cases, he’d have likely been correct. An armed man had an undeniable advantage against someone without a weapon. Yet, he couldn’t have known that Zeke was more than willing to trade blow for blow, even if he got the worst of the exchange.
The sword cut through the air in a wicked slash meant to decapitate Zeke. He ducked under it, then connected with a vicious uppercut that should have sent the man flying backward. Instead, it only staggered Julio. Surprised, Zeke wasn’t ready for a follow-up, which was why he was entirely unprepared when the five other attackers fell upon him.
Their blades didn’t bite deep, but their enthusiasm for the act was enough to worry Zeke. He took a dozen attacks before he managed to barrel through the encircling attackers, extricating himself from a very dangerous situation.
But he didn’t take that opportunity to step back and reassess his strategy. No – he’d sunk too far into his rage-induced battle lust to even think about that. He raised his fists, then dove back in. The opponents were clearly his inferior, but six-on-one tipped the odds in their favor.
Or it should have.
The difference was that Zeke didn’t care if he was cut to ribbons. They could have flayed him alive, and he would have kept coming – which wasn’t far from the truth. He refused to acknowledge the pain they inflicted, and with [Hand of Divinity] keeping him from bleeding to death, the wounds were mostly superficial. They certainly weren’t life-threatening.
As he fought, he did make a few concessions, though. Protecting his joints was a priority. For all that he could take a thousand attacks and keep going, if someone fouled the mechanical connections of his joints, he would go down the same as anyone else. So, he subtly altered his fighting style to prevent such an occurrence.
He also protected his face. Not because he was worried about scars or how he looked. Rather, he wanted to preserve his senses. If he lost sight in even one of his eyes, he would be at a disadvantage. So, when possible, he shielded his face.
Like that, the fight continued, and slowly, the attackers’ energy started to lag. It wasn’t surprising. Zeke’s most potent weapon was his endurance. Not the attribute, but instead, his ability to keep going regardless of what the world threw at him. He’d endured so much already, and he refused to give in to a few petty thugs.
He took the damage he needed to take, felling his enemies as viciously and efficiently as he could. The first went down when Zeke got his fingers around the man’s throat and ripped out his trachea. The second fell prey to a brutal punch to the temple that shattered that portion of his skull. It also cracked Zeke’s knuckles, but [Hand of Divinity] was enough to patch him up so he could continue the fight.
The third, fourth, and fifth went down with a shattered jaw, a crushed hip, and a broken back. That left him to face only Julio, who’d backed away to nurse his own broken jaw. The others weren’t all dead, but a couple had succumbed to their injuries. One thing was certain, though – they were out of the fight.
Zeke shook out his arms, and his blood – mingled with the blood of his enemies – splattered the ground. His shirt was in tatters and left more of his torso exposed than it covered. Vaguely, he realized that his own injuries weren’t nearly as extensive as they should have been. Like Abby – who remained on the ground, her half-exposed chest heaving enticingly – his wounds were more akin to what he’d expect from a Hollywood movie. They were just deep enough to give the impression of hardship, but not so serious as to mar his appearance.
He knew that wasn’t normal.
But it also wasn’t something he could concern himself with. Not with Julio standing only ten feet away. The man tried to speak, but his jaw was too malformed to enable speech. So he satisfied his anger by throwing a seething glare Zeke’s way.
For his part, Zeke returned it in kind. But he also said, “You’re scum, Julio. A piece of human garbage. I’ve killed you before, and I’ll do it a thousand more times if that’s what it takes.”
The man’s eyes widened, but that was the only reaction he managed before Zeke rushed forward, intent on ripping Julio apart with his bare hands. However, the swordsman had learned his lesson, and instead of employing a wide, arcing cut, he offered a short jab.
Zeke ignored it.
He took the glancing blow, barreling through the pain and tackling Julio. The advantage of reach didn’t matter much when Zeke was perfectly willing to take what should have been a debilitating wound. And once he’d closed the ground between them, whatever advantages Julio had disappeared. He was weaker than Zeke and less skilled. More importantly, he flinched away at every blow, clearly affected by the pain. Zeke leaned into that, targeting areas he knew would cause the most agony.
In only moments, Julio was writhing in pain as he begged for mercy. Zeke ignored his pleas. He was far too invested in ripping the hateful man limb from limb. So, he didn’t cease his pummeling. Nor did he stop when Julio was clearly out for the count. Instead, he kept going until the man’s head resembled a burst watermelon.
Only then did Zeke look up.
Glancing around, he saw that some of the other men had stirred. A couple had even managed to crawl away.
But that wouldn’t do. That would not do at all.
So, Zeke picked himself up, crossed the intervening distance, and proceeded to end them the same way he’d killed Julio. It didn’t take long. They weren’t nearly as durable as their leader. However, it was notable for two reasons. First, he didn’t even consider letting them live. His anger wouldn’t allow that. And second, during that time, Abby had stirred.
Yet, when they locked eyes, she did not look at him in fear. Instead, she stared at him with wide-eyed awe, her chest heaving in excitement.
“My hero,” she breathed, her tone a promise that Zeke couldn’t help but understand. And in his state of mind, there was absolutely no chance that he would even think to resist the desire flowing through him.