Death: Genesis

Zeke stumbled as he stepped free of the arch, then fell to one knee in gratitude. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how different the dungeon had felt. How oppressive. It had been like claustrophobia for his spirit, though he could only see it clearly in the hindsight of freedom.

Soon enough, the others came tumbling out as well, and clearly, they all felt the same way. It had been months since they’d set foot in the outside world, and the sudden change was just as dramatic as that implied. Before Zeke knew what was going on, he felt tears of absolute relief tracing lines down his cheeks.

He wasn’t the only one, either.

Not only had the endured horrifying hardships aplenty, but each of them had nearly died multiple times. To suddenly be safe – or at least as safe as anywhere in the Eternal Realm really was – proved to be incredibly cathartic.

But the relief could only last so long before reality began to set in. The problems they’d left behind when they’d entered the dungeon were still there, though they weren’t quite as immediate as they had been back then. Still, they were in giant territory, and even though they were no longer being actively hunted, the longer they spent in the mountain forest, the more immediate the danger would become.

So, after indulging his relief for a few minutes, Zeke pushed himself to his feet and looked around. The forest looked much the same as it had when they’d first walked through the portal, which meant that it was filled with ancient, gnarled trees and covered in a blanket of white snow. He took a deep breath, letting the crisp mountain air fill his lungs as he tried to remember which direction they’d meant to head.

That was when Eveline finally spoke up, “It’s that way.”

She had accompanied the statement with a mental nudge to the right.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m a mind spirit,” she said. “Of course I’m sure.”

Zeke knew well enough to trust his companion, so he said aloud, “Alright, guys. We’re still in enemy territory, so we need to gather ourselves as best we can, then head out. Any problems with that?”

No one complained. Instead, they all rose to their feet and told him that they were ready to go. Zeke could understand that sentiment, but there was something he needed to do before he could move on. So, he asked Eveline, “How difficult is it to destroy a dungeon portal?”

She gave a pensive sigh, then answered, “For you? The Runebreaker technique should work. Then, you just need to hit it hard enough. So, right in your wheelhouse, if we’re honest.”

“All I needed to hear,” he responded. Then, to the others, he said, “You might want to stand back. This might get messy.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Eta.

“I’m going to make sure nobody else every stumbles into that nightmare,” he stated. It was telling that no one argued with him. Whether it was because they agreed with his goal or if they were just unwilling to fight him on it was unclear, but the results were the same regardless of the reasoning.

Once everyone was a few dozen feet away, Zeke summoned Voromir and faced the arch. It looked so mundane. So innocent. There was nothing about it to indicate that it led to such a hellish dungeon. Zeke could handle all the blood and guts. He could deal with all the death and monsters. What he couldn’t stomach was how the dungeon had twisted his own memories against him.

Nobody should have to experience that.

So, without further hesitation, Zeke centered his mind and dragged the mana from his twin attunements, wrapping them around one another and holding them in place with a tiny sliver of his will. The braid for Runebreaker was far more stable than the one associated with Worldbreaker, but that was like saying a wolf attack was less deadly than being mauled by a lion. Either way, he’d long since grown accustomed to keeping it under control, though he knew he could only do so for a few seconds before the power of his Will started ripping him apart. So, as soon as he felt the technique coalesce, Zeke infused his hammer with the braid, then swung the weapon at the base of the arch.

The results were explosive.

Sparks of mana, visible to the naked eye and sizzling with ethereal fury, sprayed into the air, and a shockwave of pure force swept through the forest. The nearest trees were torn asunder, their broken trunks sending splinters of wood sailing through the air. But Zeke stood firm, weathering the storm of mana with stoic determination and sheer, metaphysical weight.

But to his immeasurable disappointment, the portal remained unbroken.

No – there was a tiny crack, barely visible and stretching out from the point of impact. That was enough to tell Zeke that his goal was possible. So, with the Runebreaker technique still singing through him – body, mind, and soul – he swung again, and to similar results. With every passing second, his Will threatened to rip him to pieces, but he refused to let it go until the job was done.

So, he swung again.

And again after that. Over and over, he hammered his weapon against that nigh indestructible gate until, at last, a sound like breaking glass preceded a monstrous explosion of mana that felt like it ripped Zeke’s skin from his body.

Of course, with his body still enhanced by [Triune Colossus], he was made of rock and metal, so the effects weren’t nearly as devastatingly destructive as they could have been. He endured that storm of mana and force, digging into the ground with earthen immovability, and when the dust finally settled, he saw nothing but a pile of shattered rock.

And a new notification, informing him that he had gained yet another level.

“W-what?” he croaked, letting his technique fall away. His body had been ravaged, but he would still remain functional. If he’d used Worldbreaker instead, he never would have survived the technique for so long.

“Apparently, killing a dungeon gives kill energy. A lot of it, too. Going from level forty-nine to fifty takes more than most,” Eveline informed him. “The same can be said for every fifth level from here on out. So, you have that to look forward to on your path to the peak.”

Zeke pulsed [Cambion’s Awakening], fueling it with pure, unattuned mana. It soothed his soul, but did little for his damaged body. Still, he was in decent enough condition, all told, so he stood and looked around.

The explosion had devastated the area, knocking trees down in a two-hundred foot radius. But Zeke was relieved to see that his companions hadn’t been harmed.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself. He should’ve made them retreat further away.

“In your defense, there’s no way you could have known it would be such a big explosion,” Eveline reminded him. It did little to assuage his guilt. “Besides, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Yeah. But we can’t dawdle, now,” he said inwardly. “The giants are probably already on their way to check this out.”

With that in mind, Zeke took one last look at the shattered gate. The moment it had broken, it had lost its magic, rendering it into a pile of inert stone. And as far as Zeke was concerned, it was good riddance. Tearing his eyes away from the entrance to the dungeon that had so tormented him, Zeke turned away and strode toward his companions.

He found that the others were completely unhurt, if a little annoyed by the situation. Still, they kept their complaints to a minimum and followed Zeke as they trekked through the forest. Before long, they’d covered multiple miles, giving them some degree of relief. Certainly, the giants could probably still track them, but after the devastation wrought by the exploding gate, it would be incredibly difficult. So, Zeke felt secure enough to slow their pace to something they could maintain almost indefinitely.

Like that, days passed, and without sign of pursuit. They group rested from time to time, but never for more than a couple of hours. They were all eager to leave the mountain forest behind, and none of them were willing to delay that for any longer than absolutely necessary. And their time in the dungeon had prepared them well for a long trek with minimal rest. So, they continued on until, at last, they broke free into an expansive savannah.

In school, Zeke had seen photographs and videos of the American Great Plains, and looking upon the changed landscape put him in that same frame of mind. In his entire field of vision, he only saw one lonesome tree. The rest was just an endless see of short grass.

“Do we know where we are?” he asked, looking at Sasha.

She unshouldered her pack, then retrieved a large map. It pulsed with a slight aura of mana, telling Zeke that it had been enchanted in some way. Probably for durability, but he’d have to study it to be certain. In any case, the porcine sorceress unfurled it and said, “I think this is the Mukti Plains.”

“Oh,” said Jasper.

“What?” asked Zeke.

“Nothing. I just…I hate centaurs,” he said. Then, he went on to explain that the Mukti Plains got their name from the most dominant centaur tribe in the area. According to him, there were hundreds of thousands of the creatures, and the bulk of them were subordinate to the Mukti. They were also incredibly territorial, which seemed to be par for the course in the Eternal Realm. No one seemed particularly welcoming to outsiders, at least as far as Zeke had seen.

The only good news was that the hill giants were in constant conflict with the centaur, meaning that even if they had been pursued out of the mountains, the giants would be unlikely to follow them any further. Still, to Zeke, it felt like they were exchanging one set of enemies for another.

“What’s beyond the plains?” he asked.

“Adontis,” said Sasha. “Then the undead Kingdom of El’Kireth, though we won’t want to go there.”

“Why not?” was his next question. Zeke could feel Talia in that direction, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she was probably somewhere in that Kingdom. It was probably the only place she could have survived unharmed.

“About which one?” said Eta. “The Knights of Adontis are famous for their intolerance of anyone they deem unclean, and they are tightly aligned with the Radiant Host. Some say that they are merely an unofficial wing.”

“And I’m guessing that intolerance extends to anyone they consider different.”

“Good guess,” Sasha said. “Every beastkin learns to stay away from anyone affiliated with the Radiant Host. They don’t see us as people, and we’re not the only ones, either. I’ve heard their intolerance extends to anyone who isn’t human. Or human-adjacent.”

“They abide elves,” Eta said. “But only barely, largely for unsavory reasons.”

“She means that they like to keep pretty elves as sex slaves,” Eveline provided.

“Yeah. I got that,” Zeke replied in his own mind.

“Just making sure. Sometimes, you don’t understand innuendo.”

“I’m not responding to that,” Zeke said.

Over the next few minutes, the group discussed the various factions in the area. The centaurs were usually hostile to anyone who didn’t go on four hooves, the Knights of Adontis hated anybody who wasn’t human, but were especially belligerent with their undead neighbors, and the undead largely kept to themselves.

“Everyone here seems to hate everyone else,” Zeke remarked.

“That’s not a terrible characterization,” Eta acknowledged. “There are plenty of places that welcome mostly everyone – like Westport – but they’re outnumbered by those who don’t.”

Zeke sighed. “Alright. I guess we keep going for a few more miles until we’re out of sight of the forest,” he said, running his hand through his hair as he looked back at the ancient trees. “Then, we need to check our gains, summon the tower and make sure everyone inside is okay, and then, we’ll need to figure out how to proceed. I intend to go to that undead kingdom, so we need to plot a viable course through hostile territory.”

“We won’t survive there,” Eta said. Then, she looked from one person to another. “Or at least I won’t. The vitality is too weak. Or the deathly atmosphere is too strong. Either way, I’ll wither and die within a few hours. The same is probably true of everyone else, at least to some degree.”

Zeke shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out. My friend is there. I’m sure of it. And I’m not going to stop until I get her back,” he said.

“Is she so important?” Jasper asked, giving voice to a concern clearly held by everyone else present. All except Pudge, at least.

“She’s family. Just like Pudge.”

That was all he needed to say before the others realized that arguing with him was a dead end. So, with that, they took off across the plain. After spending months in the dungeon, and then nearly a week trekking through the forest, suddenly being out in the open was a nice change of pace. But it also came with a certain undercurrent of unease that Zeke found a little unsettling. It wasn’t difficult to ignore, but it remained in the back of his mind all the same. So, it was with a certain sense of relief that he finally summoned his tower.

As always, it presented as a giant, crimson spire topped with a crown of aggressive flanges that made it look like the world’s largest mace. At hundreds of feet tall, it was particularly imposing on the flat, featureless plains, and Zeke knew it would be visible for miles all around.

Which meant that if any centaurs were about, they were going to soon get a visit.

Zeke had gone back and forth on whether or not to summon the tower. On the one hand, he didn’t want to immediately jump into battle with another group of people. But on the other, the kobolds and former slaves that lived in the tower had been stuck inside for months. They deserved to know what was going on, and more importantly, Zeke needed to check on them to ensure that they were well. So, in the end, there had never really been a choice. If the centaurs descended upon them with ill intentions, then Zeke would just deal with it accordingly.

Still, he hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. For now, he was tired of fighting, and he desperately wanted a few days – or weeks – where he could simply relax, recover, and deal with less desperate matters.

So, it was with some sense of anticipation that he approached the front gates of the Crimson Tower that was his home.