Chapter 173 - Through the Door

As he swung his mace, fire coursed through Zeke’s veins. Every contraction of his muscles brought with it a cascade of agony that even his pain tolerance couldn’t begin to handle. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t let it stop him from doing what needed to be done.

When Tucker had left him on the stairs, he’d briefly enjoyed the vain hope that the shadowy reflection of the city’s walls would hold, keeping the writhing horde of angry demons at bay. When he’d touched upon that higher concept, his trek through the army had destroyed thousands of the creatures, but there were still so many more out there. On top of that, Zeke knew that the reinforcements Pudge had seen approaching had likely arrived. The moment the walls collapsed, tens of thousands of the horned monsters would descend upon the city, looking for something to murder.

Zeke was the only thing standing between them and his friends. And he refused to fail them. So, when the inevitable had happened, and the walls fell, Zeke had met the demons’ charge up the pyramid’s steps with everything he had at his disposal. Even as weakened as he was, he’d planted himself on the steps, hefted his mace, and refused to be moved.

His refusal was noted by the demons and promptly discarded.

Until that moment, Zeke had fancied himself a skilled warrior. Not as technically sound as someone like Talia or the Radiant Guards with whom he’d sparred while back in Beacon, but better than most. However, the moment he found himself without a significant stat advantage, all notions of superiority had vanished. Now, only minutes after the tide of demons crashed into him, Zeke felt the sting of sympathy for his companions, who didn’t enjoy the benefit of his overwhelming stats.

That didn’t mean he let the demons through. Luckily, he had the high ground, and the stairs were relatively narrow, so not only were the demons forced to come at him in pairs, rather than overwhelm him with sheer numbers, but they also had to overcome the awkward angle of the steep stairs. It was just enough to allow Zeke to hold his own, if only barely.

However, the battle didn’t come without its share of pain. Every time Zeke tried to activate a skill, the extra resistance felt like trying to run in the shallow end of a pool. It was possible, but his efforts didn’t yield nearly the results he might’ve liked. Luckily, the toggled version of [Life Scythe], which mimicked the old version of the skill, didn’t require his active input. Once he activated it, it stayed active until he cut it off. However, the skill didn’t come without its fair share of issues; every injection of stolen vitality scorched through his body like so much acid. It still healed him, and it did so in the most painful way possible. Zeke likened it to pouring rubbing alcohol on an open wound. Certainly, it served a purpose and was ultimately a good thing, but it was agonizing to endure. Without the pain tolerance that came with his new race, he’d have collapsed into a seizure the moment the torment hit him. With it, the pain was still formidable, but with focused will, he could overcome it.

He didn’t dare activate any of his other skills, though. So, he was forced to rely on his reduced strength and the weapon that had been his constant companion since he’d obtained it after killing the troll’s brood mother.

Even as he swung his mace at the closest demon, Zeke knew that it wasn’t going to end well. Armed with tenacity and a stubborn refusal to back down, he could hold out for a few minutes, at best, before the accumulated wounds sapped his strength. Already, he sported a couple of wounds that stubbornly resisted the influx of stolen sluggish vitality. Too much of it was being siphoned off into his previous injuries, and while it helped a little, the cracks in his skin weren’t the priority.

With a force of will, he used a technique he hadn’t even practiced since being poisoned by the Crystal Spiders what felt like a lifetime ago. Usually, his body directed the life energy well enough on its own; most of the time, it didn’t need his input. But now? He didn’t want it to focus on the most serious wounds – undeniably, the cracks in his skin. He could fight with those, even if it was agonizing beyond belief. Instead, he wanted to stop himself from bleeding out, from having his muscles shredded, and his combat ability compromised. So, he wrestled with the energy, bringing it under his direct control and forcing it where he wanted it to go. At first, the stolen vitality resisted. That was the skill’s influence, he was sure. But that skill was just a part of him, wasn’t it? Subordinate.  Zeke was in charge.

With a roar, his mace connected with a particularly ugly demon’s face. Even as his skin cracked and droplets of blood sprayed everywhere, Zeke’s mind was elsewhere. He pushed the energy into a stubborn wound he’d taken on his stomach, and to his relief, it obeyed his command. His flesh knitted together, and he refocused his attention on the battle before him, all the while directing the stolen vitality on an almost subconscious level. It felt like there was a partition in his mind – one to deal with the energy, and the other to fight the demons. And to his surprise, it worked.

Was it enough to win the battle? No. Not even close. But it might buy him a few extra minutes.

Behind him, the fight against the giant demon raged on as his friends fought the battle he couldn’t. If he went up there, he’d be a liability, and though it rankled on his pride, he wasn’t going to put his companions in that situation. Instead, he focused on what he could do – keeping the horde at bay.

Thankfully, his racial abilities were unaffected by his injuries, and each time his mace connected with a demon, the black energy that had infested the red cloud of his skill invaded the demon’s body, flaying its soul. Without that distracting and tormenting the demons, he never would have stood the slightest chance of success. With it, he could only barely hold them back. Hopefully, it would be enough.

As the battle raged on, Zeke fell into a rhythm. With his body in such disarray, it wasn’t a particularly well-timed rhythm, with him taking far more injuries than he would have at any other time, but he gave almost as good as he got. Demons fell before him, their bodies sporting a multitude of broken bones, contusions, and, usually, cracked skulls. But throughout it all, Zeke felt clumsy, weak, and ill-used.

So, when an arrow streaked past him, slamming into a demon’s forehead, Zeke let out a sigh of relief. Another arrow hit in almost the exact same spot, and then another. Finally, on the fourth arrow, a massive bolt of lightning stabbed down from the sky, obliterating the demon and carving a crater into the steps. A moment after that, a series of umbral spears erupted from the shadowy steps, impaling demons and creating a makeshift palisade.

“Won’t hold long,” grunted Carlos from behind.

Zeke turned to see that his companions had rejoined him. They all looked a little worse for wear, with Talia and Pudge seeming to have taken the brunt of the demon’s attacks. However, they were all hale and whole, which removed a weight from Zeke’s shoulders. He hadn’t even realized how worried he was for his friends’ well-being or how guilty he felt for being incapable of affecting their battle.

“It’s time, kid,” Tucker said, looking resigned.

Zeke nodded. There wasn’t anything left to say. As much as he hated leaving Tucker behind, none of the arguments had changed. He was the best person for the job, and what’s more, he’d volunteered. Now, Zeke just had to let his friend – and yes, he’d come to think of Tucker as a friend, if not a close one – make the sacrifice he so clearly wanted to make.

He climbed the steps, and after making certain that Abby was okay, he scratched Pudge behind the ears. The bear was almost entirely coated in demon blood, but that was fine. So was Zeke. After everything that happened, they all were.

When he reached the top of the pyramid, he asked, “So, we just go through that door?”

“Yeah,” Tucker said. “Assuming this all works the way we think it does. Admittedly, it’s kind of new territory for me, so…I’d say you have a fifty-fifty shot of ending up back in the mortal realm.” He held up his thumbs and grinned, adding, “Not bad odds, especially considering that the alternative is almost certain death.”

“Such an optimist,” Zeke said.

“Clock is running here,” growled Carlos. Down the stairs, the demons railed against his densely packed wall of shadow spears, screaming in anger and frustration. “I can’t hold this forever.”

For a moment, Zeke ignored him. Instead, he focused on Tucker and said, “Stay alive. And thank you. I won’t ever forget this.”

“It ain’t a funeral,” Tucker said. “I intend to survive.”

“Still…”

“We need to move,” Abby encouraged. “Like, now.”

Zeke sighed. He wanted to say so much more, but he didn’t have the words to convey what he needed to say. So, he just gave Tucker a hug, which clearly surprised the alchemist, before releasing him. “See you later, then,” Zeke said, his voice cracking a little. He knew good and well that it was a fool’s dream. They were standing near the only portal back to the mortal realm, and that was about to be closed. There was no other way home, and they all knew it.

Without another word, Zeke walked toward the freestanding doorway that was the portal. The rest of the team said their goodbyes, though none were as heartfelt as Zeke’s. They weren’t as close to Tucker, and in Abby’s case, there was active dislike. However, she gave him a grudging and terse goodbye.

Talia merely said, “Farewell.”

Carlos gave a strained, “Uh…nice meeting you, I guess. And thank you.”

Finally, Pudge craned his neck and gave Tucker a slobbery lick on his face. Tucker responded with a scratch behind the bear’s ears.

At last, the rest of the group joined Zeke while Tucker strode toward the final statue. He called out, “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Zeke gave the man a rueful smile before telling the others, “Don’t hesitate. Just go through as soon as I do.”

Everyone nodded.

Then, without further stalling, Zeke stepped through the portal.

For a moment, there was a nothingness that stretched out into eternity. In that single instant, time had no meaning. Nothing did. It was a return to that void, what Oberon had once called the In-Between, that had been Zeke’s home for eons before being reborn. Almost as soon as it enveloped him, it faded away, replaced by blinding sunlight.

Zeke stumbled to his knees, closing his eyes against the harsh light. In the demon realm, everything had been so washed out, and what light there was had been muted. Here, though, everything was so bright that it felt like someone was stabbing icepicks into Zeke’s eyes. He’d seen enough to know that it had worked, though. He was home, back in the mortal realm.

Behind him, the others stumbled through. First, Pudge. Then Abby. Talia. And bringing up the rear was Carlos. Only a few seconds later, the doorway cracked before crumbling into dust. A gust of wind picked it up, scattering it across the top of the pyramid.

“What have you done?!” screamed a lightly accented voice.

Zeke blinked, then raised his head. In front of him was a well-muscled man, shirtless and with his torso painted in various arcane sigils. They weren’t runes as Zeke knew them, but he could feel the power they contained. What’s more, the swarthy man carried a massive club which was studded with obsidian shards. Atop his head was a pitch-black topknot, from which dangled a long, braided queue.

The man charged, and Zeke reacted without thinking.

His mace carved an arc though the air, slashing across his body with every ounce of force he could muster. With that swing, he also activated his skill, [Unleash Momentum], releasing a torrent of force that he’d been building for weeks. Throughout his battles against the various bestial denizens of Mal’araxis as well as the fight against the demons, every swing of his mace had added a little bit of force to the gathered pool. He had intended it to be used to carve a path through the demon horde – or, failing that, against the guardian of the portal. But when he’d touched upon that higher concept, destroying every demon in his path with nothing more than his footsteps, he’d added a portion of that power to the pool. As a result, it was exponentially more momentum than he’d ever gathered at one time.

The charging warrior exploded as the red-and-black tinged wave of energy went through him.

More, that entire side of the pyramid was disintegrated. Any building unlucky enough to find itself before Zeke’s swing was crushed into dust, and the force carved a deep trench all the way to the city’s wall. A minor earthquake followed, causing even further damage.

But Zeke didn’t see it.

Instead, his body erupted with light, the cracks in his skin widening until it looked as if he was being pulled apart. He screamed, his arms outstretched and his head tilted toward the blue sky. His mace tumbled from his fingers, and he lost all sense of who he was or what was happening all around him.  It was only a sliver of the power he’d felt outside the shadow city’s gates, but even that was far more than he could handle – especially considering that he’d barely even begun to recover from that experience.

With agonizing slowness, the power waned. It may have gone on for hours, or it might have passed in mere seconds, but by the time the last of it leaked out of him, Zeke was entirely wrung out. He collapsed, unconscious before his face hit the surface of the pyramid.

However, before the darkness completely overtook him, Zeke saw a single message:

Congratulations! You have reached level 23!

If he had been capable of moving, he would have smiled, even despite the pain ravaging his body. In the space of only a few short weeks, he’d gained three levels, a host of achievements, and most of all, he’d made progress on his skills. He’d even managed to unravel some of the mysteries behind the system of martial, mystic, and artisan paths. If he managed to survive, he would come out of his brief foray into the demon realm much stronger than before.

It was a pleasant thought, but he knew there were no guarantees. Given the state of his body – and almost as importantly, the channels through which his mana flowed – survival was far from assured. The only advantage was that, just before he’d unleashed his momentum, he’d experienced a spark of inspiration that bordered on an epiphany. Whether it was his experience harnessing the vitality and directing it where he wanted it to go, the effects of his artisan path, or something else entirely, he’d barely managed to activate [Life Scythe] in conjunction with [Unleash Momentum]. The leeching skill rode the wave of energy released by the latter, and when it hit, it did so with predictably monstrous results.

[Life Scythe], by itself, was useless. Without another attack – usually, one of Zeke’s mace strikes - upon which it could ride, it did nothing. As such, its potency was a function of whatever it had latched onto; in this case, it was the enormous wave of pure force generated by [Unleash Momentum]. And it stole a commensurate degree of vitality, transferring it to Zeke.

In other circumstances, most of that life energy would have been wasted, dissipating once he was healed. But now? As his body was being ripped apart my primal forces he wasn’t equipped to understand? The vitality fought back, preventing him from being subsumed and obliterated for flying to close to the sun.

In the end, though he didn’t know it, that tidal wave of life energy was just enough to keep him alive.