"It's time to face the kind of thing that'll attack your home in nine years' time," said the Barbarian Sage.

Zane perked up at that.

"It's time to put your training to the test."

Their destination was halfway across the Barbarian Sage's home planet. They bounded between the peaks, going miles at a time. No one bothered them. Zane sensed a few Minor God-level powers watching from a distance here and there.

He swore he felt stronger auras still, hiding deep in the mists—some with hostile intent.

But the Barbarian Sage just snorted. "They won't bother us. Not unless they want a good smack!"

None of them wanted a good smack.

A few hours later, he and the Sage arrived on the other side of the planet. The mountain peaks flattened out here, giving way to black sand deserts; giant bones stuck up here and there, breaking up the dunes.

Near the tip of the South Pole where frost glazed the sands, there was a vast lightless maw sunk deep into the ground. A dozen miles across. It was strange to Zane how quiet it was. On a planet stuffed full of howling creatures, not a sound drifted out from deep down there. No auras either.

"It's all confinement zones down there," said the Sage. "Rune-bound cages. They're built not to let anything out. Not even aura. Some of the things down there—if they're allowed to unleash their domains—could do some serious damage to these parts."

The Sage's planet was pretty high-grade, as far as Zane could tell. The realm could hold True Gods without much trouble.

Zane wondered just what creatures the Sage had brought him to fight.

They made their way into the gloom. There was a rusted steel platform not far in—a rickety hand-crank elevator. A single thick chain held it up from the top. The Barbarian Sage grabbed hold of it.

"Ready, lad?" said the Sage, grinning.

Zane nodded.

The Sage lowered the both of them into the dark.

***

Gorthak seethed.

For months it had roamed around in this dingy cell, dragging its claws against the ground, screeching its frustration.

Its prison was a desolate waste—all reinforced steel and stone, badly lit by a few scattered torches on the wall. A thick layer of runes held it all together. It should've been unbreakable.

Not for Gorthak.

It grinned at the thought.

The Great Human had underestimated Gorthak. He did not realize Gorthak's Blood—gifts descended from the Heavenly Demon itself—gave Gorthak the power to defy these puny human inventions…

Gorthak had sunk its teeth into the runes and leeched them of their power. Growing stronger as they weakened, making their powers its own. Rune magic tasted sweet—not as tasty as the flesh of man, but sweet. But Gorthak licked its lips at the thought.

It'd almost managed to smash its way free when the Great Human came, caught it in the act—and put a stop to it.

Gorthak snarled.

Before the Great Human caught it, many a disciple from the Factions of man had come to Gorthak's lair. First little Ascendants whose bones Gorthak used as toothpicks. Then the Minor Gods, with their delicious Bloodlines…

Gorthak liked those Godbeast Bloodlines the most. They tasted sweeter than anything Gorthak knew. Sweeter still was the fear on the puny humans' faces as they saw Gorthak's monstrous regeneration—saw all their little powers wiped away in blinks, turned against them…

Gorthak's grin turned hideous.

Gorthak was a Monster Lord of the noble Vampire Ogre race! The Bloodline of the Heavenly Demon burned through its veins—a Bloodline that only strengthened as the Chaos Cycle moved.

Then Gorthak stilled. Its massive shaggy head whirled toward the far wall.

HUMAN… hissed Gorthak, stark-red veins bulging in its rheumy eyes.

A string of blue wards went up, blocking it off from the heavy iron door. It opened.

Gorthak's black pupils began to dilate.

That smell… that Bloodline…

Drool started leaking from its tusks.

The Bloodline of the Giant Human—a Bloodline that had driven Gorthak insane, the moment it'd smelled it—it was back.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

And it had brought another.

Then it saw a young human coming through the doorway—rich with that same most delicious of bloods! And instantly Gorthak knew…

This was one of mankind's finest hopes.

Every inch of his flesh radiating vitality—hale and hearty, well-built. Gorthak knew a champion of man when he saw one. Just by the smell of him, Gorthak knew he would be the tastiest thing it'd ever preyed upon…

Nothing gave Gorthak greater pleasure than to drain the life out of a man like that.

Gorthak bared its tusks, let out a high-pitched, keening whine.

It was feeding time.

***

"It's a piece of work, alright," said the Barbarian Sage, hands on his hips. "Finicky little beast!"

Gorthak the Impaler (Monster Lord)

Essence Level 532

It was an albino ogre creature with skin like weathered marble. Its head ran thickly with shaggy dirty locks, covering most of its hideous face—but through them, Zane saw watery yellow eyes peering out. Gleaming tusks stabbed through.

Its claws were gleaming too, curved like a jaguar's. Strange Laws hissed at their ends…

Zane could feel its hunger from all the way out here.

"You ever fought a Monster Lord before?" said the Barbarian Sage.

Zane nodded. "A simulated one."

"Then you know they're a good deal stronger than normal Monsters. They've got that Heavenly Demon Bloodline in 'em. For some of 'em—like our friend Gorthak here—it gives them strange powers."

Zane could tell this thing was different just by feeling. The God Golem had just been a simulated creature, and an Ascendant too.

This Gorthak's aura felt dense. Solid, in a way even that God Golem's wasn't. A dark bloody blackened aura surrounded it, a domain that curdled at the edges…

It was the real thing.

"Tier 5 Laws there. Two Concepts. It's got nasty claws on those fists and tusks, too—strong little fucker. Regenerates fast."

Zane nodded.

Gorthak grinned at Zane. Its teeth were stained deep red.

"Level 532, huh," said the Sage, scratching his head. "It was just 526 when I brought it here a year back… things're really moving this cycle. Right!"

He put his hands together.

"This'll be your first fight! Treat it as a test of your new powers, eh? Just go out there, see what your body can do. Have some fun with it."

"I will," said Zane. He stared down the beast, taking it in. Thinking.

"Attaboy," said the Sage, grinning. He slapped Zane on the back. "No Stormfire, you hear? These are meant to test the body—we want you as strong as possible."

He nodded again.

When he turned back to the ogre, he found its eyes bulging. It let out a shrieking laugh.

YOU THINK YOU WILL DEFEAT GORTHAK—WITH YOUR SOFT HUMAN BODY?

It bared his teeth, grinning, like it knew something Zane didn't. COME TO GORTHAK, LITTLE HUMAN…

He was not a fan of this fellow.

"Right then!" With one ruffle of Zane's head, the Barbarian Sage went back into the shadows. "Let's get going."

He heard the heavy door clank shut behind him.

Then it was just Zane and the Monster Lord.

He summoned his Chains. This was meant to be a good test.

"Ten seconds!" came the Sage's voice, muffled by the door. "Then the wards drop!"

Gorthak strode closer. Each step rattled the cell until it loomed before Zane at the edge of the wards—twenty feet tall, teeth bared, a leer splitting its massive face—most of its face was covered in that hideous expression. It was so lanky those its pillars for arms dragged against the ground. The steel smoked away where those claws touched.

Zane started wrapping his fists with his Chains.

Stacking more and more weight into his hands. They were so light to him now he could barely felt them.

GORTHAK SMELLS YOU… Gorthak wheezed. It was shivering, it seemed so eager—it was looking at him a bit weird. JUICY, FLESHY HUMAN! LET GORTHAK PEEL THE MUSCLE OFF YOUR BONES…

It bared all its teeth, cackling.

Zane blinked. … He'd never heard that one before.

He finished wrapping his fists and turned to face his foe.

It didn't much matter to him. The things folk said were just noise to him. Unless you threatened his friends or something he found these things didn't get in his head much.

Once the fight started, their powers would tell.

The difference in his body these past few weeks had been drastic. Some of his lifts had nearly doubled in the past month.

Now he would see what it all meant.

"On three!" roared the Sage. "Three!"

Zane slammed his fists together and nodded.

"Two!"

Gorthak cackled.

"One!"

The wards dropped.

And Gorthak lunged.

The Monster Lord blurred—exploding at speeds seemingly impossible for such a mass of flesh. The claws on its hind legs showering sparks as it kicked off.

Its domain erupted.

***

Gorthak's speed always came as a great shock to its victims.

This one was no different.

For all this male human's promise it was clear he'd never fought something quite like Gorthak. It gave the Monster Lord a flicker of pleasure to see the foolish human blink in surprise…

But then it was too late.

Gorthak was already upon the man, claws lashing from the sky, shrieking madly—it almost couldn't believe its luck.

Surely there would be some kind of trick. Perhaps this human was not truly Ascendant—or was hiding his power. Or perhaps he had some life-saving talisman. Surely humanity would not send one of its finest hopes to die such a horrible death!

Gorthak was almost surprised when its claws met the flesh of the shoulder—and carved through.

Drew blood.

It felt like carving through True Dragon-hide, a great deal of resistance. But Gorthak's claws were its fiercest weapon, seething with the Bloodline of the Heavenly Demon. They drove into the muscle beneath.

And sank in their fangs.

The Concept of Corrosion, softening the muscle. The Concepts of Parasite, drawing away the lifeblood…

The human's energies surged into Gorthak.

It was intoxicating. Gorthak's nose was right—this kind of vitality… Gorthak had never tasted anything like it. Such pure, intense life! It shuddered at the feeling. Yes—more, it needed more—and this human had so much flesh on his bones! Gorthak's claws made a clean arc, carving out the man's arms, throwing streams of hot blood skyward as it shrieked its triumph—

Then it caught sight of the man's eyes.

EH?

They were… calm. Observing the wounds across his shoulder with curiosity. Like he was noting it down, taking the measure of things.

It was almost like he’d let it happen.

But that made no sense! Why—

Then Gorthak noticed the way the man's body was turned.

He'd turned side-on—presented the thick muscle of the shoulder, shielding his vital organs. That was where Gorthak had struck…

The man’s fist had wound all the way back.

A primal instinct flared up deep in Gorthak's soul. A feeling it’d only gotten from the best Minor Gods or Monster Princes…

Its life was in danger.