Chapter Sixty-Two
A couple of things happened all at once. Ambrose’s axe hit the group of lizardmen that had appeared and detonated in a flash of hellish flame. The monsters screamed as the smite ate away at their flesh and spirit.
Despite that, two survived the attack and engaged to attack Ambrose’s fleeing group. Darren did something that Ambrose had not expected; he let out a leonine roar of rage so potent and visceral that the air shook with it. He bounded forward and delivered an earth-shattering punch to one of the lizardmen.
The sound of cracking bone was a whip crack in the air as the lizardman was blasted away by the force of the blow. Darren roared again and did not let up. With newfound speed, he hounded the lizardman, his fists unrelenting pistons of violence, turning the monster into paste the color of moldy cheese and blood.
Ambrose didn’t have time to view much more as the lizard lord’s claws raked downward, its roar a force all its own.
Ambrose ducked underneath it, moving to the side with the same motion, and began infusing the ground with his mana. At the same time, he activated [Infernal Recall], sending his axe on a path that intercepted the other lizardman attacking the group.
The flaming axe took it in the head, blowing it into green-red chunks.
The lizard lord leaped toward Ambrose, and acidic light gathered around its claws. It didn’t do it any good because Ambrose activated his skill again. Still, instead of manipulating the earth and sand to pull directly upward toward him, he shifted it to the side, creating a giant pit that the lord fell into with a hollow crash of spraying sand.
Ambrose shifted the sand again, trapping the lord within it, not unlike burying a friend in sand up to his neck.
Ambrose recalled his axe and used [Infernal Infusion] to cause the weapon to burst into black-red flame. The lizard lord thrashed, attempting to escape its sandy prison, but every time it came close, Ambrose shifted the sand again with his skill. Causing it to fall again. It howled its fury, eyes filled with gleaming hate, teeth gnashing.
Ambrose was cold, like the chill of mountain air’s bite. He walked forward, and as he did, he allowed his axe to trail on the ground. Infernal flames began to eat at the sand, turning it into molten, cherry-red glass that followed along in the axe’s wake.
“Merciful God above,” Ambrose vaguely heard someone whisper.
Something in the lizard lord knew what was coming. It grew desperate. Its thrashing worsened; its howl became a cry of utter fear, eyes locked on the axe that Ambrose trailed along the sand.
It failed, as it had every other time, to free itself. It’s warbled, pain cries of terror whined through the air. The axe began to circle it like Ambrose drew a noose in the sand. A circle of undulating, burning molten red and black enclosed around the lizard lord like a collar of hell and wrath.
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Its scaly skin began to burn, sizzling like barbecue left on too long. It bubbled, turning black like melting tar. The resulting screech from its throat was like nails on a chalkboard. Calmly, Ambrose watched it die.
“Good God, that’s hideous,” some began to giggle.
It took a long time for it to die. Ultimately, its head was a black melted husk of skin and bone.
[You have defeated a Lizard Lord-Level 115. You have gained increased experience in killing a foe beyond your level. You have advanced to level 111.]
When the battle was over, Ambrose turned to face the group. Several of them looked at him with expressions of disgust and awe. Darren’s face looked haunted,
“Did you have to torture it?” He whispered.
Ambrose shrugged,
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
Darren shook his head, grimacing,
“You could have just killed it. You didn’t have to do…that.”
Ambrose crossed his arms,
“It killed several of our men, Darren. It could have killed more. For all we knew, it could have called more creatures, resulting in more death.”
Ambrose gestured at the burnt husk of the creature, surrounded by cooling glass.
“I have no idea what skills it had, and if I don’t, then you sure as hell don’t. The pain distracted it and prevented it from using its abilities and having any chance at thinking. All it could do was think of escaping. I’m not going to waste any time feeling bad about killing something that was going to kill me if given the chance. No matter how I do it.”
A fire kindled in Darren’s eyes as he crossed his arms.
“We should be better than them. Better than these creatures.”
Ambrose laughed then, and the sound held no humor in it.
“What makes you believe I care about being better? This world isn’t going to care about who’s ‘better’ Darren. It’s going to care about who’s stronger.”
Ambrose pointed to the blue sky, clouds swirling above as the air moved them about.
“Our world was integrated into a multiverse, Darren. That means there are other worlds out there. People are far more potent than any of us, and something tells me they aren’t concerned with who is being a goody two shoes and who isn’t. Do you want to protect your daughter? Learn to do what needs to be done.”
Darren’s expression became ugly then, and his growl was audible as he stepped toward Ambrose.
“You keep her out of this. This is about your brutality.”
Ambrose met his gaze calmly. His voice was a whisper nearly lost upon the wind.
“If I had been more brutal from the start, I wouldn’t have lost everything.”
Maybe it was something in his voice or eye, but Darren did not respond. He looked away, clearing his throat.
“If anyone leveled to ten and wants advice on progressing, let me know, and we’ll discuss it.”
Ambrose then turned to his progression. First, he brought up his stats, having not looked at them for a while.
[Constitution: 190
Strength: 199
Intellect: 185
Wisdom: 198
Willpower: 224]
With the profession level up he had been holding on to, he had five points. With his recent level up, he had eight more, for thirteen. Strength, intellect, and wisdom were lagging behind the rest of his stats, so he put three into strength and nine into intellect.
Although he was not progressing as fast as he had been, he was not in constant danger. His role and the things he needed to do were expanding.
Ambrose discussed skill selections, class options, and attribute point allocation for the next hour with the group. A somberness had settled over them all as if reality were finally making itself known.
Every so often, one of them would glance at the corpse of a dead comrade, and their jaw would clench, their eyes harden. New resolve poured into the men, and Ambrose was confident it was a resolve to survive, protect one another, grow, and ensure that this didn’t happen again.
Ambrose felt his own resolve harden within his heart.
When Eric came from Avalon, they would be ready.