Golden Divinity spread throughout his limbs, filling him with power. He dodged the incoming blow, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and smashed a fully enhanced fist into the Uthraki’s gut. There was a flare of light, and the woman suddenly had a hole in her abdomen. Jonathan withdrew his fist and struck again. Transformation skills like the one the Uthraki was using usually had a time limit. He only had to outlast it. Then again, his Smite skill was similar in nature.

However, he had long since outgrown its most severe drawbacks, but had also outgrown some of its benefits as well. Upon first coming to this world, the skill had increased his power many times over. Now, even with his increased Divinity pool, he was lucky if it increased it by even a half. It would be time for him to start upgrading his skills soon enough.

Jonathan exchanged blows with his enemy for the next few minutes, trying to outlast the woman’s blows. However, she seemed to grow stronger and stronger as the battle progressed, drawing energy from her injuries. Soon, even with Smite, Jonathan was unable to keep up.

As one devastating uppercut whipped his head back, almost breaking his spine, he realized that it was time to cut his losses and go. Pretending to charge up an attack, he instead ran for it, darting away from the village. Behind him, there was a roar of rage as the Uthraki leader saw what he was doing. However, he had enough of a headstart to get out in time.

A few minutes later, he was legging it across the cave floor, hearing the terrifying noise of pursuit coming from behind him. His chest was on fire, every step sending shooting stars of pain up and down his body. However, he had dealt with worse.The Uthraki was still chasing him, but he could tell that she was flagging. Without conflict, whatever skill she was using was being weakened over time.

Eventually, the noises faded away, and Jonathan was left on his own, running across the ash. As Smite ran out, he collapsed, gasping for air. He lay there on the ground for a few minutes, trying to gather his energy. His body slowly twisted itself back together in that time, allowing him to rise once more. That had not gone the way that he had intended. His hubris would be the end of him if he did not keep it in check.

Although most fights in his past had gone his way, it was important to remember that there were always those stronger than one’s self. Even in this realm, there were beings too strong for him to fight. This all framed Granath’s might even more effectively than before. If he had been able to make this realm his plaything, then what would he do to Jonathan?

Granath was able to keep his strength at its normal level within his city, which meant that there was no way for Jonathan to even the odds. He would either have to shape up, or die. As he slowly recovered, he started to search for another village. He was not going to leave this place until he had found what he was looking for. Because of Hushar, he knew that it was possible.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Back in the Ash Heaps

The armies of Granath swept across the land like a black tide, leaving flattened earth and a litany of corpses in their wake. As they neared the Rim, they grew closer and closer to Jonathan’s citadel. A black fervor roiled within their minds, the desire to serve their master and kill his enemies. Most of the Dread Legions had been indoctrinated since joining, and only the Tier 2s had any sort of real autonomy. Bound by oaths of magic and the System, they were unable to betray their master. The world seemed to shake as they passed, the footsteps of such an army creating a localized earthquake in their wake.

Jonathan Harlowe had committed a grave offense against Granath by simply existing, and it was their job to excise it. Otherwise, they would have failed. The only thing worse than death for people like the soldiers of Granath was being unable to properly serve their lord.

In the faction headquarters

An emergency meeting had been summoned in the city hall, on the matter of the newest addition to the city’s stock of Tier 2s. Although Edgar and Eva had been mollified by their encounter with Hushar, to everyone else, he was simply a wild brute that would kill them all at the first chance that he got. Even worse, there was no way to stop him.

“We need to expel that monster from the city at this very moment!” One of the councilors screamed, her voice twisted by rage and ignorant fear. “How will we be able to fight a war on both fronts?”

“If you could just put your xenophobic fervor aside for one moment,” Granj began, before being cut off by a storm of dissent.

Little was getting done here, because of the toxic environment. Eventually, Edgar decided to act. A sudden tempest rose up in the room, fluttering the hair of those present. Edgar rose out of his chair on wings of wind, his form surrounded by a hurricane of arcane power.

“Enough!” He roared, empowering his voice with his element. “This only serves to weaken our cause. Have any of you even considered meeting with the object of your bile?”

The councilors were cowed, but not for long. The egos of politicians were too secure to be easily quashed, even by overwhelming force.

“You are just a dog of your master,” the woman who had spoken earlier spat. “Whatever that man says, you jump to it. We all know he has another agenda that he is working on the side.”

Edgar turned his baleful gaze towards his detractor, and the woman gulped. For a brief moment, she felt the weight of the world on her.

“Are you purposefully obtuse, or just plain stupid?” Edgar asked, his voice back to normal. “Why would Jonathan leave a council here if his purpose was to rule the city with an iron fist? You people are simply pathetic. Whatever your class is, it should be replaced with one called professional victim.”

That caused a gale of laughter from Granj and Eva, and a muffled response from the woman it had been addressed to. Edgar haughtily ignored it, and sat back down. His dark gaze reminded everyone just who was in charge here.

“As Edgar was saying, we should stage a meeting with this Hushar,” Granj said.

This time there were no disputes. Anyone who spoke up against this would make it clear that they had an agenda, one that worked against the interests of the city. At that point, they would be removed. With war coming, treachery would not be tolerated.

The councilors rose as one, heading out of the city hall and towards the walls. It was time for them to see what their new ally was made of.