Chapter 169 - Real Power

Zeke swung his mace two-handed, the attack shattering a demon’s horn before continuing on to crush its skull to red-and-black paste. Keeping his momentum going in a spin, he ducked beneath a reaching claw, sweeping his weapon around to take out the legs of another demonic creature. As he did, the red mist invaded the demon’s body, snatching pieces of its life energy only to return it to Zeke. It was barely a drop in an enormous bucket, but every little bit added up. More importantly, a soul attack in the form of black lightning rode along with the [Leech Strike], singing the creature down to its very essence. It howled in pain, redoubling its efforts even as it devolved into animalistic instinct. Its fury was palpable, but under the agony of the soul attack, it had become little more than a mundane monster. And if nothing else, Zeke knew how to fight monsters.

When it overextended, Zeke took the opportunity to swing his mace in a vicious uppercut that dislodged the thing’s jaw. It didn’t immediately die, but aside from the damage of the swing, it was subjected to yet more of the soul searing lightning. It screeched under the torment and launched itself at Zeke. Without any semblance of technique, the monster quickly fell prey to Zeke’s next attack, its skull breaking apart like an overripe melon.

As Zeke fought, the surge of demons pushed closer and closer until, eventually, he could scarcely swing his mace. With a herculean swing, he shoved the tide of demons back, giving him a moment to take stock of the situation.

And what he saw was not good.

The demons had been weakened by Tucker’s mist, and their numbers had been further reduced by his party’s area attacks. Carlos alone had killed hundreds of the demons with his first salvo, and though he had been unable to repeat the power of that initial attack, his efforts were unceasing. Every few seconds, there was another eruption of shadow blades that tore through the demons, ripping them apart without fail.

Not to be outdone, Abby continuously shot her conjured arrows into the mass of demonic creatures, calling lightning with each one. Even as she shot, the demons’ surge was slowed by a series of earthen hands, grasping at their feet. Some had even become mired in quicksand up to their knees, which rendered them all but immobile.

Tucker’s contributions hadn’t ended with his first attack, either. All around them, a wide variety of explosions rocked the horde. Some were dissolved by acid. Others were impaled by spontaneously appearing metal shards. Still others were enveloped by magical, blue flames. Tucker’s arsenal of grenades seemed as endless as his creativity, and his efforts were the primary reason they had yet to be overrun.

Talia flashed by, weaving between the demons. With every step, her claws found a victim, inflicting both her poison as well as the slowing effects of her frost skill. Every now and then, an explosion of death and rapid decay would erupt from a particularly dense clump of demons; it was Talia’s most powerful skill, [Circle of Death]. In its wake were pockets of rot that even the horde of enraged demons avoided.

Bringing up the rear was Pudge, who didn’t seem to grasp that they were fighting for their very survival. Instead, he was having the time of his life, swatting demons with his powerful claws and roasting them alive with his destructive flames. The demons were almost entirely immune to fire, but there was an element of something else in Pudge’s skill. Something that spoke of pure destruction. Weakened as most of them were, the demons couldn’t stand before such a force.

But it wasn’t enough. Despite their best efforts, which bombarded the demons with incredible levels of destruction, they were slowly being overrun. Something had to change.

Zeke had to change.

Even as his mace mashed a demon’s torso into pulp, his first instinct told him to simply unleash his momentum and carve a path through the demons. He’d done much the same in the cavern, and it had worked perfectly. He was more powerful now, and the demons had been weakened, so he was confident in the idea’s viability. However, he hesitated for one simple reason: in the caverns, when he’d faced off against the warlock, his most powerful tool had already been used. Zeke wasn’t naïve enough to think that the portal back to the Radiant Isles would be unguarded, and probably by a powerful enemy. Without [Unleash Momentum] at his disposal, he would basically be crippling his chances of coming out ahead.

Even so, it was fast approaching the time when he wouldn’t have a choice but to go all-out. If it came down to it, he would use the skill and deal with the consequences later.

He shoulder-checked a demon, his body on auto-pilot as his mind wandered through his options. As strange as it sounded for someone with his stats and skills, Zeke couldn’t escape the notion that he needed more power. He wasn’t strong enough, and now, his friends were all going to die. His mace crashed into the face of the unbalanced demon, destroying its features and sending it collapsing to the glassy sand.

That’s when he felt it.

He’d long taken his martial path for granted. After discovering it while fighting the troll warlord, it had given him insight into the use of his mace, subtly improving his technique and adding power to his swings. However, that had begun to change, and during the battle in the cavern, he’d felt the beginning of a connection to something far greater. At the time, he’d labeled it force, and that was accurate. But it was more, as well. In that simple concept were infinite meanings, subtle shifts that spoke of even greater truths. His understanding of force, spearheaded by his martial path, was merely one facet of a much larger picture.

And the longer he considered it, the more convinced he was of one simple fact. Though it was his preferred delivery method, and for a thousand reasons, his mace was not necessary. No – that wasn’t quite right. It was more accurate to say that he was the more important weapon. The moment that became clear, he felt something inside of him shift, and not in a subtle way. With that shift, he knew what he needed to do.

“Everyone, follow me!” he shouted. “Tucker, grab onto Pudge. Abby, if you can’t keep up, do the same.”

“What are you going to do?!” was Tucker’s yelled response. However, Zeke was relieved when Pudge confirmed that Tucker had climbed onto his broad back. Abby soon followed. Both continued their attacks, perhaps even more furiously than before. All around them, explosions erupted and lighting struck. Zeke didn’t let up, either, and with workmanlike effort, felled another demon.

“Carlos, can you keep up?” Zeke asked.

“I think so,” he said. “But the shadows inside the gate are…weak. Unstable. I don’t know why. I can get close, though.”

“Good enough,” Zeke said. Then, raising his voice, he let out a yell, “Talia! Follow!”

Even over the din of a thousand demons, he knew she’d heard him. But it didn’t matter. Of everyone in the party, he was least worried about Talia. She could have long since made it inside the gate. Zeke probably could have, as well, though he’d likely be ripped to shreds in the process. But he was used to that. In any case, that would have meant leaving Tucker and Abby behind. And he wouldn’t accept that. He couldn’t.

And with a new kind of energy coursing through him, Zeke felt as if he’d found a way through the mire. He only had to embody the concept with which he’d felt the strongest connection.

Force.

Once he was satisfied that everyone was on the same page, Zeke wasted no more time. Instead, he stowed his mace, lowered his shoulder, and charged forward. Even if he’d only been powered by his stats, Zeke could’ve gotten through a few layers of the gathered horde. However, eventually, his momentum would have been spent. Once that happened, he would’ve been stuck in place, surrounded by a horde of furious demons.

But he had more than just strength or agility behind him. Instead, he’d tapped into one of the fundamental concepts of the universe. It was the same abstraction that had lent extra power to his mace strikes, though it was barely the tip of the proverbial iceberg. It was infinite potential, and even that relatively tiny understanding was enough to push Zeke’s capabilities to new heights.

The moment Zeke’s shoulder connected with the first demon, he felt the difference. Bones crunched. Flesh distorted. And the demonic creature went flying backward with enough force that the demons behind it were caught up in the momentum. Zeke didn’t hesitate to trample over them, his booted feet thudding against the black, glassy ground with enough weight to cause small, localized earthquakes.

Zeke reached further, and in doing so, he became more than a force of nature. He was the embodiment of a natural law. And though they were powerful, the demons couldn’t stand before such a thing. He tore through them, speeding up with every step. By the time he’d gone fifty feet, his body was barely holding together. His muscles bulged, tearing apart like so much paper. His bones ground together, cracking under the implacable force of his own charge. Still, he kept reaching for that infinite source of power, that unknowable, insurmountable peak. It was so close, and yet, he knew that reaching it would render him into nothing. Even so, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t dare. Everyone was depending on him to be more than a powerful warrior. His friends needed him to shoulder the load, and he would do whatever it took to do just that. He forged ahead, heedless of the dangers screaming in his mind.

Without his increased pain tolerance, Zeke never could have made it more than a couple of steps. With it dulling the worst of the agony, he carved a path through the demons. However, even the small portion of the pain that made it through his tolerance was enough to elicit a continuous, tortured scream of pure, unadulterated agony.

His body was falling apart.

He knew it. He’d flown too close to the sun, and now he had to pay the price. Tears mingled with blood as they tracked a path down his cheeks. He stumbled, and when his knee hit the ground, it punched a small crater into the ground. Glass and sand flew into the air, and Zeke collapsed onto his chest, skidding across the ground for a hundred feet. Demons erupted into so much black-blooded mist, but he couldn’t see it. He could scarcely comprehend anything but one, simple directive: keep moving forward. Toward the gate. Toward that ephemeral peak. Toward his own destruction.

His fingers dug into the sand, the shards of glass pulverized at his touch. Every movement was like the shifting of a mountain. He could see the open gate, black and constructed of swirling clouds of misty, looming before him. It trembled beneath his gaze.

And then, suddenly, his connection dissipated. He fell to the ground with a normal thud, exhausted and dying. Even so, he tried to drag himself forward; beneath the pain, he’d forgotten why he needed to keep moving, only that he couldn’t stop. If only his body would just move. He craved it. He needed to progress. Even as that peak, that understanding, drifted further away, he wept at its loss. It was more agonizing than his destroyed body.

“Zeke!” a voice pierced through the haze of his jumbled thoughts.

Zeke! came a concern-filled thought.

He could scarcely comprehend what any of it meant. Those voices, they were so far away. So meaningless. He only knew he needed to keep going. His entire purpose for being was simply to move. Then, suddenly, despite the state of his body, he miraculously moved. One inch. Then two. A couple of feet. With no input from him, he was skating across the broken ground until, at last, he passed through the gates.

Something flipped him over, and he saw a huge man looming over him. A moment later, he produced a vial of red liquid, which he tipped into Zeke’s mouth.

“Is he going to be okay?” came a concerned voice.

“I don’t know! I have no idea what any of that was about!” growled the man. Zeke felt as if he should know that face.

Slowly, the broken pieces of his mind started coming back together, and with it, the pain retreated behind the walls of his increased tolerance. He still couldn’t move, but as the potion began to take effect, Zeke’s memories came back.

“W-what happened?” he croaked, still unmoving. He felt as if he could twitch a little if he really set his mind to it, but he also suspected that doing so would do more harm than good.

“I have no fucking clue,” said Tucker.

Abby knelt beside him, her hand on his cheek. He shifted his eyes – the only thing he felt comfortable in moving – to take in her tear-streaked face. “What did you do?” she muttered, stroking his cheek. Her hand came away coated in blood.

“I…I don’t…I don’t know,” he said.

But that was a lie. He’d stretched himself too far, and he’d gazed upon something that was too much for him to handle. Even that glimpse had overwhelmed him. If he’d been any weaker, if he hadn’t had his pain dulled, if any of a hundred other factors hadn’t been in play he’d have been rendered into dust by the sheer weight of that devastating concept.

He had been going for force, but he’d shot way past that to something he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. All he knew for sure was that he was lucky to be alive.

Over the next few minutes, Tucker gave him a couple more potions, and he managed to sit up. When he could maintain that posture under his own power, he looked at his arms. His skin looked like a cracked vase that had been put back together, with a pattern of shallow fissures dominating his once-unmarred flesh.

“Is it all over?” he asked, glancing in Abby’s direction.

“Not your face,” she said.

That’s when he realized that his armor had fallen off, disintegrated by his disastrous overreach.

“I’m naked.”

“Yes. Yes, you are,” said Abby, giving him a slight smirk. It was an empty expression, an effort to defuse a tense situation. “Reminds me of when we first met. Minus the loincloth, of course.”

Tucker cleared his throat, and Zeke finally noticed that everyone was pointedly looking elsewhere. As he covered himself with cupped hands, he found himself incredibly relieved; everyone had made it, at least. As close of a call as it had been, at least it had been a successful gambit.

Then, he focused on the area outside the gate.

“Oh, God,” he muttered, looking at the devastation he’d caused. The ground was pitted with craters – his footprints, he surmised – but there wasn’t a demon in sight. Or not a whole demon. There were plenty of bits and pieces, though, and the whole area looked like black-and-red mud, which he soon identified as liquified demon. “I did all that?”

“You did,” said Tucker, kneeling beside him and following his gaze. “You didn’t get all of them, though. There’s plenty more out there. They’re all just scared to come any closer.”

Zeke gaped.

If he could somehow harness that power…

No. Not now. He’d been lucky to survive this time, so trying again would be suicide. However, that didn’t mean he would let it go. He just needed to go a little slower. More than anything, though, he now knew just how little power he really had. But that would change. Sooner or later, he’d get there. And when he did, the universe would tremble.