549. A Familiar Foe
“Who dares attack my people?!” came a roaring voice from the other side of the vale. Zeke raised his eyes, looking past the carnage-filled battlefield and at the figure who’d finally arrived. If he was honest, Zeke had expected it. He knew a little about troll society, and he’d experienced enough dungeons to recognize that there was going to be more to it than killing a few million underpowered trolls.
Still, he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed it. His hatred of the detestable species ran deep, and nothing he’d experienced since being escaping the troll caves had changed his opinion. They were despicable creatures, and as far as he was concerned, they could be wiped from the face of every realm.
Regardless, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia – and maybe a bit of remembered fear – when he looked upon the creature standing in the distance. It was a blue-skinned troll, just like all the rest, but where they ones he’d already slain had topped out at around twelve feet in height, the new arrival was more than twice that. In fact, even from a distance, Zeke could tell that it could at least rival him in size. More likely, it would be even larger.
Which was a considerable feat, given that his own height measured approximately thirty feet.
“I do,” he bellowed. “And I intend to kill every troll I see until you’ve all been exterminated.”
“Ezekiel, that’s –”
He cut Eveline off with a mental glare. He’d come into the dungeon at least partially so he could let off some steam in a controlled environment. Getting stronger was the primary goal, but he would have been lying if he’d said that he didn’t crave a little indiscriminate slaughter. With the Radiant Host in constant retreat, he’d had few chances to engage in real battle of late.
The fight he’d just experienced help sate some of his bloodlust, but he still hadn’t been pushed. The troll, which looked strikingly similar to the warlord he’d slain to escape the caves where he’d been reborn, represented just such an opportunity. Or so he hoped.
In addition to its towering stature, the creature wore thick, metal armor that looked like poorly made cast iron. However, even though there existed plenty of rust or other corrosion, Zeke could tell that it was extremely sturdy. The monster had armed itself with an enormous axe, double-bearded and with sharp, jagged edges.
In short, the creature looked as dangerous as any foe Zeke could have expected, and a tingle of excitement went up his spine at the prospect of fighting it.
“Battle maniac,” Eveline remarked.
Zeke did not dispute her claim. While he often lamented the necessity of fighting, he couldn’t even begin to deny that he never felt quite as comfortable as he did on a battlefield. He wasn’t the most intelligent man in the universe. Nor was he as emotionally mature as most. But one thing he could confidently say was a strength was his ability to fight and wage war.
“An idiot savant,” Eveline added.
“I think that term is considered offensive now,” Zeke said inwardly. Before she could reply, he looked back at his companions and said, “Stay back. This one is mine.”
A tinge of relief blossomed on their faces. As much as Zeke considered the previous battle no more than a warm-up, his friends had been pushed to their absolute limits. They all sported various shallow wounds, and they’d clearly expended most of their stamina. They could – and would, if he asked – still fight, but not at their best. So, they didn’t argue with his insistence on fighting the troll alone.
He stepped forward, his massive metallic feet squishing corpses to jelly. That enraged the troll, who roared, “Have you no respect for the dead?”
“For trolls? No,” Zeke answered, striding forward, hammer in hand. “Not for you, either.”
Once he’d crossed half the valley, he came in range of [Inspect]. When he used it, he couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle.
Takor, Troll Overlord – Level 100
“He’s dangerous,” Eveline said.
“So am I,” Zeke pointed out.
“This plan of yours is stupid.”
“Maybe,” Zeke said, knowing that she’d read his thoughts. By this point, he was accustomed to it, though. “But I think it needs to be done.”
She gave a mental shake of her head, and for once, Zeke couldn’t really argue with her assessment of the situation. On the surface, what he had planned was monumentally stupid – especially after seeing the troll overlord’s level. It was at the absolute peak of the Eternal Realm, which meant that it would be the strongest foe he’d defeated.
“If you can defeat it,” Eveline countered. “There’s no guarantee of that if you don’t intend to use your skills.”
She was right, but that was what made it exciting. For so long, Zeke had tried to look past his nature. He’d attempted to ignore the fact that his driving force had nothing to do with doing the right thing, with saving people, or whatever battle lay at the end of his path. Instead, he reveled in the fight itself. Whether it was an individual encounter or the overarching struggle to reach ever higher, Zeke reveled in challenging overwhelming odds and coming out on top.
Eveline had called him a battle maniac, and he could not think of a better label for his nature.
“You are insane.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But I can’t change who I am, Eveline. You know me as well as anyone else in the world. Better, probably. Can you honestly say that you’d want me to be anything but what I am?”
“No.”
“Then –”
“But this idea is still stupid. Fight the thing, but use your skills to do it,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to die just because you’re too stubborn to use every tool at your disposal.”
“I won’t die.”
“That’s what everyone thinks. And then they get killed.”
Zeke knew that there would be no convincing her, but as much as he wished she would understand, he had no need to sway her to his way of thinking. She was a passenger, albeit one who shared his fate. If possible, he would protect her, but he couldn’t let that desire to keep her safe change what he knew he needed to do.
So, he ignored her please, stepping forward with a mixture of grim finality and excitement dancing in his mind. Once he was within a hundred feet of the hulking troll, he said, “I challenge you. Here and now, and to make it an even fight, I won’t even use any of my skills.”
“Arrogant beast,” the troll growled, tightening his grip on his giant axe. “I will not give you the same consideration. You do not deserve it.”
Zeke cocked his head to the side. “Pretty eloquent for a troll.”
“We are not savages,” the creature spat, though its appearance told a different story. It looked so similar to the warlord – aside from the blue skin – that Zeke wouldn’t have been surprised to find that they were related. But then again, perhaps he was just incapable of seeing the subtle differences in trolls.
“So you say, but then you attacked a caravan and murdered a bunch of people,” Zeke said. He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Seems pretty savage to me.”
“They invaded our territory and –”
“I don’t care,” Zeke interrupted. “I really don’t.”
The troll ground his teeth together hard enough that, even a hundred feet away, Zeke could hear it. He thought about making a sarcastic comment about that, but kept it to himself. Instead, he shifted his feet and readied for battle. It was a good thing, too, because only a moment later, the troll let out a massive roar and leaped in his direction. He sailed through the air, his massive axe held high.
Zeke dropped the head of his hammer, took one step forward, and swung. The uppercut took the troll by surprise, hitting him right in the chin and launching him back the way he’d come. Two-hundred feet later, his arcing flight ended as he slammed into the snow-covered ground, rolled a few dozen feet, then came to a stop.
But Zeke hadn’t remained idle as the overlord sailed through the air. He rushed forward, his heavy feet thundering against the frozen ground as he sprinted into position. Any other time, he might have used [Shifting Sands], but he’d vowed to fight – at least for as long as possible – without his skills. He wanted to beat the troll, warrior-to-warrior, without mana or magic getting in the way.
He hit the troll just as the creature climbed to his feet, but to Zeke’s surprise, the thing managed to stymie his path via sheer strength. Then, with a roar, the overlord brought his axe to bear in an overhand attack. The blade screamed as it cut through the air before hitting Zeke’s shoulder with a metallic crunch.
“That almost got you in the head. Not sure you would survive that,” Eveline remarked.
“Shut up,” he muttered in return. The axe had done some damage to his shoulder, but it was a long way from debilitating. As strong as the troll was, it would take much more than that to put Zeke out of commission. More importantly, it seemed that the troll had a sense of honor, and it had chosen to abide by Zeke’s no-skills vow.
It was going to be a slugfest, and Zeke was more than ready to see what they both could take.
Zeke tightened his grip on his hammer’s haft, and launched himself forward. At times, he’d found himself holding back in terms of his physical abilities because he feared overextending and getting his allies killed. Or because he was fighting creatures the size of skyscrapers. In those instances, he relied almost exclusively on his skills, which had established itself as a habit.
But he was more than his abilities. Zeke’s attributes were worth more than just about anyone else’s in the world – at least as far as he could see – so it was silly not to use them. That was his purpose with the overlord. He wanted to push himself forward and, like had been the case when he’d fought the troll warlord so long ago, he felt that he needed to take the next step in regards to his fighting technique.
To that end, he bent the whole of his concentration toward executing each attack – which came at multiple strikes per second – to utmost perfection. His body control had always been a strength, going back to his time as a baseball player on Earth, and he used that to his advantage.
At first, the troll was overwhelmed by the sheer speed of Zeke’s attacks. But like most of its species, the thing was equipped with a ridiculous advantage in self-healing. Any other time, and Zeke would have called it a skill, but he could tell that the troll wouldn’t violate the sanctity of their duel.
Even as the creature’s bones mended after each landed attack, its own blows rained down on Zeke, cutting into his incredibly durable metallic flesh. For the next few minutes, the pair battered one another. Zeke seemed to get the better of the troll, though its natural healing took care of any wounds he managed to inflict. Meanwhile, the troll’s blows did far less damage with each attack, so, even though they hit each other a similar number of times, the impression was that Zeke was winning the fight.
He wasn’t.
And he knew it.
The troll was at least his equal in terms of technique, and if he was honest, probably his superior. Yet, Zeke refused to give in, and so, he continued to fight. Slowly, he sank into an almost meditative trance, though there was nothing peaceful about it. Instead, even as he hammered the troll – and received plenty of attacks in turn – he began to truly look at his technique. At his combat philosophy. At his very nature.
And what he found was disappointing.
He knew he’d never be a cold-hearted technician. His personality simply wouldn’t allow for it. But he knew he could be better. He needed to be, or his goals would become entirely unachievable.
So, he focused, tapping into his Will in an entirely different way. He didn’t care to bring out more destructive power, and he wasn’t looking to enhance his skillcrafting abilities. No – he wanted to home in on another piece of the puzzle that had become his Path of Arcane Destruction.
Once, his martial path had focused on blunt-weapon combat. He’d discovered it against the warlord that reminded him so much of his current opponent. And now, he wanted to experience a similar revelation. He didn’t think it would change his path. That seemed to be set in stone. But what he did believe was that he could isolate and focus on the parts that comprised his current Path of Arcane Destruction.
He barely felt the incoming blows, even as they cut even deeper than ever before. Nor did he feel it when his own attacks landed upon the regenerating troll. Instead, his entire mind was focused on the task at hand, on becoming the most technically proficient warrior he could be.
Then, after some indeterminate amount of time – it could have been hours or days, for all he knew – everything clicked into place. He didn’t receive a notification, because it wasn’t something quantified by the Framework. It was something deeper inside him. A primal understanding of himself, his hammer, and, most importantly, of battle.
His eyes snapped to his opponent, and he smiled.
Then, Zeke brought his newfound focus to bear.