Everything had gone exactly as Drathok had expected…
Not as a part of his grand design, or anything so triumphant, no… this fate rang of inevitability.
He leaped into the air once more, activating his [Starlit Grace] and using it to bounce through the air up and up higher until he was within striking distance of the grand monstrosity that stood before him.
They traded blows once more. Drathok came out on the worse side of the deal. His attack was glancing, and all he’d managed to do was be stung by the divine energy swirling around the necrotic creature once more, singeing his skin, sending him careening back towards the ground.
Screams sounded behind him. They were everpresent.
Drathok never really got used to the screams. They came as part of the job, but he much preferred silence…
He’d likely find it soon.
He grit his teeth as he collected himself, as he summoned up a curved blade from his [Inventory], a malichor sabre he’d fashioned many years ago. His weapon.
It would make little difference, he was sure. Even a full Seconnan blade with such impressive attributes couldn’t bridge the gap between his strength and that of the monster.
It carried a seed of godhood inside of it. A twisted, amorphous expression of murderous desire, personified by undying horror.
Drathok dodged another strike, held his breath through another burst of black flames…
Drathok felt fear within his heart. He knew he was no true warrior. He never had been. His skills laid in summoning, in leadership, in coercion… he was indeed powerful. But for all the strength he’d amassed, it paled in comparison to this.
Yet he continued on.
What kind of a leader would allow their place of work to be so tarnished? Would allow such carnage to transpire within their haven?
Would allow it again?
Elasar was so eager to break Markus that he’d employed the most barborous god in Sun City to do the job for him…
Damn him. What was there to do now but fight? To make a futile effort to preserve what was left here for him, for his people who might survive him?
They would survive with Lexi. She was strong. She reminded him of himself, in a way, only… powerful in all the ways that he wasn’t. Able to laugh, to smile, to nod, to hold onto hope, to find the good within even the bleakest of moments.
Rather than twist herself into a monster that fit this place.
Drathok watched as Markus ran past him. He saw him go.
He…
He never should’ve been here.
He should’ve died.
He never should’ve been summoned.
He could’ve failed.
And sat beneath the arena. And waited to die.
For Drathok couldn’t bring himself to correct his mistakes.
Nor could he bring himself to change.
Not again.
He’d made his choices already.
His path had led him here.
Wishing for something different was…
Markus kept moving.
As he should.
He should escape this place.
Escape Elasar.
Don’t give that bastard what he wants.
Don’t let him take more from this world than he has.
Drathok owned him…
He needed to die for Markus to escape.
He’d only get pulled back here if Drathok ran.
Straight into Elasar’s hands.
And if Drathok terminated the contract himself, it wouldn’t just be his head. Elasar would slaughter every imp he’d ever bound to him, every worker he’d ever employed. His rage would know no bounds…
No problem. He’d been ready to die here in the first place.
He’d been expecting it.
If he died here, all of this wouldn’t have been for nothing.
His attempts would’ve altered some shred of this world’s fate.
He’d have protected something.
He’d be free.
Finally free.
Drathok returned to his inventory. Procured the item…
He felt the thrum of power resonating within him as he pulled the long, cylindrical object from his inventory. Runes etched along its surface thrummed to life as the weapon became attuned to his mana core. Its long, metallic edges glowed hotter and hotter still as the weapon established a conduit between its leylines and those of his soul.
This cannon was his greatest secret. A relic from his old world, a weapon of such rarity that even amongst the richest of demons, finding a fully working one was almost impossible.
Drathok’s didn’t fully work. Its power was unregulated. Staggering.
He admired the otherwordly craftsmanship of the thing as he considered his choice. He’d once told himself he was saving this for an untenable situation with Elasar, but who was he kidding. Drathok knew of no way to break a true soul contract… thus he could never attack him, nor ask anyone to attack Elasar on his behalf.
Meaning this thing had sat unused and without a purpose for years. After all the effort he’d gone through to get it, too. What a joke!
Well, he’d always been curious to see what it looked like when one of these fired.
It was said that it sucked everything around it in, then unleashed the gathered energy in a wave of condensed mana capable of punching through even the most resilient of creatures, a weapon which had a destructive capability that only scaled further based upon the power of the enemy it was faced against.
He’d only get one shot, and all his lifeforce would be spent.
He only hoped it was pretty. Drathok wished to see something colourful before he died.
This world was so grey.
He began to seep his energy into the weapon. No point waiting.
Perhaps he’d get to see his daughter again. Perhaps she was already dead.
Perhaps he’d remember her face.
He knew not what hope he ascribed to. Not anymore. No notion could denote his faith, nor help him to even guess at the cosmic destiny that awaited him beyond the whims of petty, putrid gods.
They were no arbiters of his.
Drathok charged his weapon, his eyes beginning to blur as an uncomfortable amount of mana began to flow from his body…
He heard a scream.
This one was dissimilar from the rest.
It sounded angry.
It came not from behind him.
But from ahead.
The monster?
No…
He watched as a blurred shape flitted onto the landscape before him, as sand was kicked into the air…
As a creature jumped up to attempt to strike at the monster.
Such folly. Who would even attempt to—
He watched as said creature was smashed straight into him, knocking the mana cannon straight out of his hands and causing the field of energy generating around him to immediately fizzle away and dissipate, electricity radiating across the sand as the weapon fitfully jumped and bounced across the ground.
His eyes cleared. He took in the body laid right next to him. The dark hair. The tattered leathers…
“M… Markus?!”
His head was dazed. He forced himself to a sitting position. He watched as the human clambered messily to his feet.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Yeah,” Markus replied back, voice low, eyes trained above.
“Wh…” Drathok blinked. He stared out at the massive hole in the arena wall, then at the human stood right before him.
“Wh-why are you… why the fuck are you still here?”
“Talk later! Fight now!”
Well… seems even the best laid plans could be upended by simple, impossibly idiotic heroism.
With a heavy grunt, Drathok pushed his way back to his feet.
----------------------------------------
Markus didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
What was he doing?
No clue.
But it felt right.
It felt like who he really was.
Markus moved to pick up his broken glaive, laid on the floor beside him, but Drathok put a foot on it.
He glanced at him, rage in his eyes, only to find Drathok holding out his curved sword to him.
“Take it. You can attune to anything, can’t you?”
“I don’t know how to use it,” Markus protested as the blade was shoved into his hands.
“It’s malichor. It should come naturally to you.”
Markus accepted the weapon, imbuing it with Spirit Mana and staring up at the opposing creature.
It looked about ready to split the two of them in half. Drathok was already on the move, having summoned a bow which he was now using to fire magically imbued arrows directly at the worm’s open mouth.
Most were incinerated before making contact, but one landed, shooting an electric current through the creature that made it tremble and shake.
It swung for Drathok once more, and he barely managed to block the strike with his arm.
He was so resilient… how he could absorb a blow like that, Markus didn’t know.
He fell to his knees a second later.
Fuck. This was too much for either of them.
He could feel his attunement to his weapon becoming active. He intrinsically knew at least the basics on how to swing it. He’d have to trust that this thing was powerful, that it could be an effective conduit to his skills.
Markus jumped. He slashed through the air as he travelled, attempting to slice through the more lightly armoured underside of the worm.
His blade bounced without leaving more than a metallic chink, powerful energy reverberating in his arm.
He recognised the energy…
This was Divine Mana. He could feel it resonating inside of him, mixing with the other mana within his body but refusing to coalesce, its own separate entity.
His strike wasn’t ineffective.
He just needed to keep hitting it.
Gather as much as he possibly could.
If he wanted to break through, if he wanted to hurt this thing…
It’d be using the most potent magical power he knew of.
That was the way.
“Hey!” Markus screamed down at Drathok, who was continually firing bolts as quickly as he could manage, to seemingly little effect.
“Yes?”
“Distract this thing!”
Drathok leaped into the air once more, this time wielding a greatsword. He smashed against the creature’s face with the blade, only managing to slightly stagger it, not even beginning to cut through it, and burning himself on the energy as it struck him back in turn.
Markus jumped once more. He reached out with a hand and grabbed hard at a spike protruding out of the worm’s side. He Manifested a foothold beneath his right knee in an attempt not to fall off as the creature shook.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem interested in burrowing like before. It was too preoccupied destroying everything in its immediate vicinity.
That gave Markus time to climb it.
It was like attempting to scale a marble wall. The creature’s body had no crests or divots that made for easy footholds. The only things he was able to use to mark progress were the occasional spikes that existed every five to ten feet along the creature’s body, sharp and difficult to grab at or hold for longer than a few seconds, burning with divine heat.
Markus had to manifest multiple footholds just to keep himself level as he continued his ascent. Thankfully, the task was swiftly becoming easier, something he’d grown far more accustomed to in a span of time that escaped him entirely, likely an effect of his Mana Manipulation skill ticking over to 5.
He didn’t have time to question it. He lined up his body with the next handle, placed a ledge of Spirit Mana beneath his feet, and leaped upwards as swiftly as he possibly could.
The creature shifted during his jump, and he cut his hand open attempting to grab at the monster’s spike, but he was just barely able to hang on, even as his hand became increasingly bloody, even as his body began to feel woozy…
Markus felt electricity surge through the creature once more, and it gave him the jolt of energy and awareness he needed to keep in motion. Another jump, another height, another slice into his palms…
He was getting closer. He could see the curve, thirty or forty feet in the air, the point at which the creature’s body had twisted to allow it to breathe down upon its surroundings and burn everything in its vicinity, the point from which it smashed its tail against walls and walkways, destroying everything it dared lay eyes upon.
At the top of it, there was the altok. Markus saw it as he reached the epoch. He clambered up the last few feet with intense, panting, pounding effort, with numb limbs and appendages, barely able to grip at anything as he finally found his way at the top.
His arms ached immensely. His body felt more than ready to give out. His eyes were drooping, his lungs burning, his mind compressed in on itself…
But this was nothing. He’d fought through so much worse than this, so many times. He’d come here with a job to do.
With resilience and power, Markus forced himself to his feet.
He walked towards the altok, stared out as he drew close.
The monster was surrounded by floating and shifting symbols, some golden, some an ethereal green. It panted like a rabbit with a broken windpipe, gurgled like a suffocating fish.
It looked at Markus. Its eyes were filled with sorrow.
It couldn’t speak. But it pleaded for death all the same.
Markus walked forwards, bringing forth his curved blade and swinging at the monster’s head.
The symbols shifted, a barrier formed, his blade colliding with it and moving no further. Then, suddenly, Markus was pushed back.
He barely braced enough to not be thrown off the creature’s back entirely. Fuck, this wasn’t good. Had he absorbed more Divine Mana from attempting to break through?
…looked like it.
Drathok was still fighting for his life below, still repeatedly smashing his weapon against the conjoined worm’s face, no matter how many times he got zapped or headbutted or bathed in black flames.
Markus needed to settle this.
He attacked the barrier again. It hurt. It pushed him away. Rejected him.
He absorbed yet more mana.
The power within him was culminating, beginning to grow stronger and further untamed.
He struck again.
And again.
He Empowered his blade with Divine Mana.
He struck again.
The barrier cracked.
A second strike… yet more give.
The monster seemed aware of him now. It hadn’t noticed shit until he’d started fighting it with its own element. Now it was desperate to be rid of him.
Not only did it shake its body, even slam itself against the ground in an attempt to dislodge him…
It also fired spectral beams from the various floating symbols surrounding the altok, almost like a laser defense system.
They burned, they ached within Markus’ very soul…
But they only served to enrich his energy even more.
Markus struck again, harder, using everything he possibly could to break through the godly barrier that had been constructed to house and imprison this broken abomination’s core…
He broke through, even as the blade flew from his hand.
Markus marched forwards.
The altok continued to gurgle.
When he touched his hand to the monster’s wound, it grew quiet. Grew still.
[Prolonged contact established. Would you—]
“Yes.”
Markus felt that syllable reverberate through him a thousand times within the next second as the greatest influx of power he’d even felt wracked his very spirit, as his eyes and ears bled from the immense force of energy being sandwiched into his fragile, mortal body.
This wasn’t a power any one creature was meant to hold…
And yet Markus took it. He took it even when it hurt. He drank greedily from the source of vile magic that had spawned this abomination, for even with such an ability, even subsisting from what he took from others…
He stared at the altok. At the life slowly receding from his eyes.
He could take their burdens. Take the bad away.
Use it to create something better.
[Mana Capacity at 1350%. Mana Poisoning IV is in effect.]
...
[Mana Capacity at 3905%. Mana Poisoning V is in effect.]
Markus kept pushing. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. He had to…
[Mana Capacity at 6044%. Mana Poisoning V is in effect. Mana Toxicosis I is in effect.]
Huh. That took a while to finally happen…
The effects were immediate. Markus could feel his fingers beginning to go numb. His face beginning to burn and lose feeling all at the same time.
He was forced to break away. He couldn’t drain the entirety from this creature. It wasn’t like Ember. There was far too much energy inside of it for him to stand a remote chance of doing so without fucking exploding.
Speaking of which, Markus landed not on the back of the creature he’d been attempting to drain, but in the sand fifty feet away.
His landing had left a crater multiple feet wide and multiple feet deep.
Markus, despite his numbness…
Could barely feel a shred of exhaustion.
The energy inside of his body was overwhelming.
[Overcharge: B Grade is in effect. All physical attributes heightened by 1500. Mental attributes heightened by 750. In this state you are resistant to all physical and elemental damage. Growth heightened. Mana absorption and healing from ambient mana sources tripled.]
[Mana Toxicosis I: Your body has been poisoned by massive levels of mana. Your mana matrix will be charred upon each use of mana, causing compounding physical pain and mental exhaustion. Natural mana generation reduced by 66%.]
[Mana Poisoning V: Temporarily, your body will become incapable of channel effects, be unable to generate mana, be unable to differentiate between mana types, and will suffer a persistent mana drain upon—]
Fuck this. Even skim reading’s for people with time to do it. This thing still wasn’t by any means dead.
He knew he couldn’t cast certain abilities now. He’d dealt with Mana Poisoning III before. That meant his list of options were more limited. However…
Markus attempted to walk ahead and launched himself instead. He was just barely able to keep control of his powerful motions, his immense speed, the intense reverberation of his feet against the sand as he came to a halt, looking like something out of a superhero movie.
He felt beyond human. Beyond his limits.
He located his fallen glaive. He trusted his broken weapon.
He grabbed it.
He jumped at the opposing creature, imbuing his weapon with Divine Mana as he leapt. It was the monster’s defense, its barrier…
But also its weakness.
He slashed its face.
He drew blood…
He activated [Rend] as he thrust an arm into the monstrosity’s mouth, boosting himself over and throwing his body inside as fresh blood was ripped from inside the creature’s mouth, stolen from it, claimed by him.
He sliced through the creature’s throat and rolled straight back out, fountained by a crimson spray. He landed upon the sand without even a hint of damage. He kipped up to his feet and sprang into the air once more to take another, meatier chunk out of it.
He’d been powerless for too long…
Now, he’d give this world everything he fucking had, starting with removing this creature’s head.