Death: Genesis

The thing Zeke had learned about fighting massive monsters was that they often had difficulty dealing with anything smaller than a mountain. Most could manage it, though not without significant issues. However, the gargantuan abomination-turned-necromantic vessel was far clumsier than any real creature. Instead, it was like trying to pick up a needle with a puppet – theoretically possible, assuming the thing was equipped with the right articulable digits, but a practical impossibility, given the constraints at play.

In the case of the skyscraper-sized abomination, it could only stomp and smash, hoping that Zeke would get caught in the wash. It was more complicated than that, of course. The thing was equipped with an seemingly uncharacteristic wealth of speed, which meant avoiding its attacks required every ounce of Zeke’s concentration. Once, he’d already failed, and he’d paid the price via his near-death experience. Without [Touch of Divinity], he would have already succumbed to the pull of that abyss.

Yet, he had persevered, and as a result, he’d been given what amounted to a second chance. Zeke refused to waste that opportunity, and so, he’d spent the following half hour dodging the creature’s wrath as he attempted to find a weakness.

There were none.

No matter how often he bludgeoned the monster with his hammer or brought his less-powerful skills to bear, the thing just kept going, largely unharmed by Zeke’s attacks.

Once, someone had told Zeke that size mattered as much as attributes. All stats being equal, a large creature would always be stronger than a smaller one. His experiences so far had proved that true, and never more so than when he found himself facing off against something like the cyclops back in the dungeon – or in this case, the enormous undead monstrosity made of tens – or perhaps hundreds – of thousands of zombies. It wasn’t just strong. Its power felt almost conceptual, like it didn’t play by reality’s rules, but rather, bent those rules to its own end.

That was how Zeke had almost died.

And now, as he faced off against the creature, it was the reason he couldn’t harm it. Size, in the end, mattered, and far more than he wanted to accept. On top of that, the creature was at the absolute peak of power in the Eternal Realm. Level one-hundred. Power wafted off of it in great clouds of deathly mana, and the world bent around it in a way Zeke could scarcely comprehend.

It felt as if the entire realm struggled to keep it contained.

Still, Zeke fought on because if he didn’t, millions – perhaps even more than that – would perish. The monster could not be allowed outside of the city. If it was, it would rampage across the Eternal Realm for untold months until it finally met its match. There were people out there who were strong enough to fight it. Zeke didn’t think he was alone in that respect. However, getting those people to do so would likely prove an insurmountable obstacle until they were forced to protect people – or things – they cared about. In the meantime, the necromantic vessel would destroy everything in its path.

No – Zeke refused to let it exist. He was no white knight, but the threat the abomination represented was too great for him to ignore. He would’ve had to have been a monster himself to allow it to live.

“Or smart,” Eveline cut in as Zeke used [Shifting Sands] to dodge another descending stomp that would have smashed him to bits. “There’s no shame in running away.”

“Feels a little shameful,” he said.

“No one expects you to give your life for a bunch of people you don’t even know,” Eveline said. It was a dubious statement, claiming that he didn’t know the people of Darukar. He’d met quite a few of them. And besides, Talia cared about them, and Zeke cared about his friend. As such, they were worthy of his protection.

“That’s where we disagree,” he said inwardly, surfacing in a gout of earth and flame before continuing his sprint to try to flank the monster. It was a losing strategy, largely because the creature seemed to have eyes in the back of its head. Regardless of which way Zeke went, his enemy knew precisely where he was. “I’ve always hated that idea. You can’t fight a war going half-speed. You can’t expect to win if you’re hedging your bets. If I judge something worth fighting for, I’m going to go all out. I’m going to give it everything I have. Otherwise, I’m just pretending to fight.”

“That seems a good way to die.”

“Or a good way to live without regrets,” Zeke countered.

Just as the thought flitted through his mind, he felt a surge of mana in the distance. It swept through him like a tidal wave, solid enough to stagger him. That proved to be its own issue, and the stumble – brief though it was – very nearly got him killed via another murderous stomp.

Zeke avoided it, but only barely, and when the shockwave of that foot’s descent echoed through what was left of the graveyard, he was sent sprawling to the ground. Without thought, he used [Shifting Sands] once again, sinking into the earth and launching himself away.

But he couldn’t keep going like that. He’d grown powerful enough to use that skill multiple times in quick succession, but eventually, its continuous use would run him dry of mana. However, that surge of mana had announced the fall of the first domino. Someone – whether it was Talia, Pudge, or his army – had managed to reach the first node of the city’s defense and destroy it.

Destroying those nodes were the key to victory, though Zeke wasn’t sure if it would be enough to tip the balance in his favor. Even the terrible power of [Wrath of Annihilation] seemed inconsequential next to the might of the abomination.

He couldn’t worry about that, though. The plan had been made – albeit on the fly – and it was his role to execute it. If everything went well, his allies would see to their parts, and then, he would do his.

Until then, his job was to stay alive. So, he pushed himself to his limits as he continued to avoid the walking catastrophe that was the abomination. In the meantime, Zeke could only hope that his friends accomplished their own tasks. Otherwise, there was no way any of them would live much longer.

Even as that thought crossed his mind, another wave of mana announced the destruction of yet another conflux of runic energy. It was enough to give Zeke hope that they could win the day.

* * *

Pudge leaped upon the flesh golem’s back, savaging it with his Hellfire-wreathed claws. The smell of burnt and rotting flesh assailed his nose, and the wail of a thousand deaths echoed in his ears. He ignored the overwhelming sensory input, pushing himself to focus on the job at hand.

The assault on his first target had gone off without a hitch, and he’d destroyed it – and the building that housed it – with a dense beam of [Hellfire]. However, when he and his team set their sights on their second goal, they had found it guarded by three hulking flesh giants, each one more disgusting than the last.

What had followed was the beginning of a titanic struggle, during which one of the enormous amalgamations of decay and dead flesh had fallen. However, the small victory was not without a cost of its own, and almost half of Pudge’s force of beastkin had already fallen. It would have been many the entire force if it wasn’t for Pudge’s efforts, which had left him with a number of injuries that he expected would take weeks to heal.

But the job was yet to be finished, so retreat never even crossed his mind.

So, after burning a massive hole into the flesh golem’s back, he leaped free just in time to avoid a swiping claw from the second remaining monster. The massive blow took the already-wounded giant in the back, sending it to stumble away. The attacker paid no heed to its companion’s fall, instead turning the entirety of its attention on Pudge.

And because he was unbalanced – as well as a little slower than normal due to his injuries – it caught him completely off-guard. Fortunately, he was not alone, and when the thing’s fist fell, it found a barrier in its way. Adara – the half-orc former Knight of Adontis – held her shield aloft, buoying it with some sort of skill. And when the unstoppable force of the monster’s attack fell upon the immovable object of her shield, the fist broke.

More importantly, Pudge had a moment to collect himself and regain his balance. After that, he raced forward, intent on finishing the injured monsters off. Meanwhile, the rest of the beastkin surrounded the other wounded golem, peppering it with comparatively weak skills that, alone would have been incapable of piercing its tough skin. However, the sheer quantity of abilities at play made all the difference, and it became clear that it would soon fall.

But Pudge couldn’t stop to admire their work. Instead, he needed to do his part. To that end, his next attack was meant for the reeling creature with the busted fist. He activated [Hell Infusion], wreathing his body in corrupted flames that enhanced his attributes to untold levels. Then, he used [Shadowfire Evisceration].

Shadowfire exploded from him, and time slowed to a crawl. He darted forward, leaping upon the flesh giant’s chest. His momentum was enough to send it toppling backward, but it happened in slow motion. That was never his primary intent, anyway. Instead, he slashed and clawed, leaving broiled flesh in his wake.

The skill was not a perfect tool for the job. In fact, it was far better suited to dealing with a multitude of weaker enemies. However, it was good enough that, by the time the ring of shadowfire washed over the golem, further devastating the creature, he’d carved a sizable hole in the thing’s chest.

He leaped free, flipping backward before landing on the cracked cobblestone street. Then, time resumed, and the aftermath of his attack hit the golem all at once. Flesh and pus erupted into a fine mist as it fell backward. Pudge was not finished, though. He took aim, thrust out his fist, and let loose with a beam of [Hellfire] that engulfed the already wounded creature.

Because of how much damage it had already taken, the monster had no defense against the powerful beam of corrupted fire. As a result, it didn’t just burn. Instead, its insides boiled beneath the influence of such intense heat. The liquid inside its body expanded, and for a brief moment, it bulged even more grotesquely than ever before.

That only lasted an instant before it burst into a disgusting miasma of rotting flesh, pus, and whatever other grotesque components comprised the hulking monstrosity. Only then did Pudge turn his attention to the final guardian.

But the beastkin – as well as Adara and a couple of former Knights – had it well in hand, using their abilities to finally bring it down. Once it was on the ground, the thing tried to continue the fight, but it did so from an extreme disadvantage. Then, once Pudge lent his own aid, the monster predictably fell victim to their cascade of attacks.

Standing amidst the fallen creatures, Pudge looked around, aghast at the wreckage he saw. It wasn’t unexpected, but ever since awakening his sapience, he had begun to appreciate the work that had gone into building the great cities and civilizations he’d witnessed.

And yet, it had all been brought low by a few necromancers.

Sighing, he wondered how far any of them truly were from returning to a more primitive state. He remembered what that was like, and losing his sapience – and everything that went with it – was one of the most horrifying things he could imagine. So, he couldn’t help but feel pity for their undead allies who were forced to confront that very idea, all while fighting against whatever was left of their friends, family, and countrymen.

Calling it a tragedy did not even begin to describe it.

But for now, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by such thoughts. Instead, he would need to keep his wits about him if he was going to protect those he truly cared about. So, without further consideration, he turned his attention to the nearby castle. It housed one of the nodes – he could feel it – and if they were going to win the battle, it would have to be destroyed.

He said as much to his allies, then strode forward, still wreathed in hellish flames.