Chapter 160 - Far From Home

Suddenly, Zeke found himself lying facedown on the ground. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew something was different. The ground was neither the comforting dirt that made up Oberon’s floating chunk of earth nor the familiar desert sands. Neither was it the expected volcanic rock of the cavern he’d left behind. He had no idea how long he’d spent being tortured by the demoness, but it felt like an eternity of agony and anguish.

With some difficulty, he rolled over onto his back. His body protested almost as much as his soul, and sharp pains erupted in his mind. He was in a truly miserable state that far exceeded anything he’d ever experienced. Since being reborn, he’d been stabbed, disemboweled, eaten by a giant raptor, and, among other things, been pummeled by a host of creatures far more powerful than him. And before that, back on Earth, he’d had his arm very nearly ripped apart. That wasn’t even mentioning the agony he’d endured when forcefully evolving his race only a few days after being reborn. So, he was no stranger to pain. What he felt in the aftermath of his encounter with the demoness was more than mere pain, though. It was an agony that infected him right down to his very being, and he could tell that it wouldn’t be soon in dissipating.

After lying there for a few more moments, he opened his eyes with an audible groan, and he was confronted with an alien sky. The atmosphere was entirely black, with not a star in sight, which might’ve been explained away as a cloudy night. However, there was no denying that the ominous, yellow clouds and arcing red lightning were new. It was almost shocking enough of a sight to distract him from a curious tingling that encompassed his entire body. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling – in fact, it was kind of nice – but it was definitely novel.

Sitting up, Zeke saw a few more alarming things. First, the landscape was, in a word, hellish, with black, sandy dunes interspersed with rivers of lava. Every now and then, geysers of magma would erupt from the ground, spewing the liquid hot rock for hundreds of yards in every direction. Thankfully, Zeke was far enough away from these geysers that he wasn’t immediately showered with the melted rock. In the distance, Zeke could see a collection of what he suspected were roughly cut crystals floating randomly among the dunes.

The second thing Zeke noticed was even more alarming. All around him lay his friends’ unmoving bodies. It only took a glance to tell that everyone was there, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Abby’s chest steadily moving up and down. She was unconscious, but she was breathing. Oberon hadn’t lied when he’d claimed to have saved them.

Finally, Zeke saw a strange shimmer of black-and-purple mist pooling in a nearby depression. Just looking at the thing brought with it mingled feelings of anger and superiority. Instinctively, he knew it wasn’t just a natural phenomenon, but rather a living entity.  It only took a few seconds, during which he remembered the appearance of the lesser demons, before he realized that he was looking at an unattached soul.

And given what he remembered of how the battle in the obsidian cavern had ended, he had a good idea whose soul it was. Fury erupted in Zeke’s heart and mind as he pounced. His body protested at the sudden movement, but he ignored it. The soul stirred and, as if it was afraid, shifted its incorporeal mass as it tried to run away. It wasn’t nearly fast enough, and Zeke was soon upon it.

Without thinking about whether or not he could actually affect an incorporeal entity, Zeke thrust his bare hands toward the mass of purple-black mist. Surprisingly, when his fingers reached it, he felt something malleable, yet solid. The soul writhed as it tried to escape, and yet, Zeke’s grip was like iron.

“Mercy!” came a high-pitched scream. “Please, killing this worm will do nothing for you!”

“Are you the warlock?” Zeke growled, standing and dragging the soul out of the depression.

“Yes!” was the thing’s panicked reply. Then, it sighed. “And no. I possessed that man years ago. He died, and I am all that is left. An unattached soul in Mal’araxis.”

The last was said with defeated exasperation, as if it was a death sentence. Getting an idea, Zeke said, “Prove your worth, and I will protect you.”

“Yes!” was its response. “I will serve the master, sacrificing my very –”

“Enough,” Zeke commanded, interrupting the soul before it got going. “Now, I’m going to release you. I think you know better than to run.”

Zeke was banking on the fear in the soul’s voice; it was terrified, and not of Zeke. Instead, it knew its situation was dangerous. Likely, wherever they were wasn’t a good place for an unattached soul to find itself. Besides, if it tried to escape, Zeke felt confident that he could catch it again. If that happened, he’d cut his losses and figure out whether or not a mostly-incorporeal being could truly perish.

“Of course!” the thing replied.

With a stoic glare, Zeke released the soul. It drifted to the ground, but to Zeke’s relief, didn’t try to escape. So, he turned his attention to his friends, who were still unconscious. However, Pudge, at least, was already stirring. The rest looked like they were in comas. Zeke quickly moved to Abby’s side. She was much paler than usual, and her breath came in the form of shallow pants. When he put his ear to her chest, he heard an erratic heartbeat. He was no medical professional, but Zeke could intuit that her condition was not good.

“The atmosphere is toxic to them,” the soul stated as Zeke knelt beside Abby. “Tragically, they will not survive much longer.”

Zeke knelt beside Abby, unsure of what to do. Why would Oberon save them if they were just going to die anyway? It seemed unnecessarily cruel, and that wasn’t his impression of the dwarf at all. However, he couldn’t help but remember the way his tree had ripped that demoness apart. Whatever else he was, the dwarf was definitely ruthless. A shiver went up Zeke’s spine as he remembered Oberon’s undeniable power.

Suddenly, a hot, wet nose nuzzled against him, and for a second, Zeke flinched away. After only a second, though, he was beset by the comforting presence of his companion.

“W-what?!” came the soul’s exasperated reaction. “How?!”

Zeke ignored it. Instead, he turned to focus on Pudge, who loomed over him. But when he saw the bear, he was surprised to see how much Pudge had changed. Before, his fur had been a mixture of greys and browns. Now, though, there were red streaks. More, his eyes glowed with golden luster. A pair of small horns, maybe a few inches long at most, jutted from his skull. Even stranger, he radiated a heat that could almost rival the lava geysers in the distance.

Sensing Zeke’s confusion, Pudge sent a thought into his mind. Infernal bear. New and spicy.

Zeke shook his head, understanding more than simple words might imply. Pudge had been transformed into something new, which was apparently called an infernal bear. What that entailed, Zeke wasn’t sure. But he had more on his mind than his companion’s transformation. He needed to save his other friends somehow.

A few ideas sprouted in Zeke’s mind, foremost among them that he needed to somehow get his companions to safety. However, he didn’t even know where he was, and as far as he could tell, there was nowhere safe nearby.

“Where are we?” Zeke asked, glancing at the soul. “And how do we get home?”

“Mal’araxis,” the blob of mist responded. “It is the demon realm that runs parallel to your home.”

“And the atmosphere is toxic? Why isn’t it hurting me?” was Zeke’s next question.

The soul gave a shudder, saying, “Do you not know? You have changed as much as the beast. This realm is as much a home to you as the other, now.”

Zeke shook his head. He wanted to open his status and investigate the soul’s claims, but there were more important issues at hand. Like, how was he going to save his friends?

“How do I save them?” he asked. “Are there areas that would be less toxic? Or…I don’t know…how do we get home?”

“They are doomed,” the soul stated.

Zeke ground his teeth in frustration, but he refused to give up. Instead, he wracked his brain for solutions. After a few minutes, an idea bloomed in his mind, and he berated himself for not thinking of it sooner. There was one place that had always been a safe haven, and what’s more, it was a powerfully magical construct that could adjust according to need. He only had to summon it.

So, as he mentally embraced the tattoo on his chest – or more importantly, the underlying maze of runes that made up the skill – and, when he released it, a domineering tower erupted into existence.

He gasped at the transformation. Gone was the stone tower he’d grown so accustomed to. In its place was something decidedly more evil-looking. Constructed of white metal that looked like it was weeping blood, its crown was a series of sharp flanges that jutted toward the sky. There were no balconies anymore. Nor did it have the comforting presence it had once radiated. Instead, its existence was a challenge to anyone unfortunate enough to count themselves as Zeke’s enemy.

The soul let out a wail, screaming, “Ah, it burns! The Crimson Tower has returned!”

As interested as he was about the captive soul’s exclamation, Zeke couldn’t spare it a second thought. Instead, with Pudge’s help, he started dragging his friends inside the tower. They made quick work of it, and soon, everyone was inside. He’d been forced to drag the soul inside, and it had clearly pained the amorphous blob of mist, but Zeke wasn’t overly concerned. The thing hadn’t only tried to kill him; it had murdered thousands of people, and if Zeke and his friends hadn’t stepped in, it would have done far worse. There was no room for pity when it came to a being like that. After Zeke deposited it next to the carved staircase, it didn’t move, save to shiver in agony. Pudge stood guard over it, his thoughts radiating danger.

Ignoring the soul’s plight, Zeke inspected his friends and soon discovered that they were markedly better off. He also couldn’t help but acknowledge that the tingling, energetic feeling he’d noticed when he’d first awoken had dissipated the moment he stepped into the tower’s interior.

The next half hour was tense, but Zeke had little choice but to trust his instincts. Whatever toxicity the atmosphere of Mal’araxis contained, it was either far weaker or completely nonexistent within the tower. It was a safe haven, and he could only hope that he hadn’t delayed too long.

Eventually, though, Talia stirred. She didn’t immediately awaken, but as far as Zeke could tell, it was a great sign. And relief flooded his mind when he saw the others soon follow suit. Curiously, though, it was Tucker who first regained consciousness.

The big man’s eyes fluttered open, and he sat up. His massive hand found his forehead, and with a groan, he said, “I really do not want to do that again.”

Zeke was in front of him in a second. Kneeling down, he asked, “How are you?”

“Mostly fine,” the man answered, though Zeke could see the tightness in the alchemist’s eyes. He wasn’t getting worse, but he wouldn’t soon recover, either. “Do you know what happened? The last thing I remember is getting hit by some skill that was shaped like a bird or something. Did we win?”

“Sort of,” Zeke answered. Then, he explained everything that had happened to him. He didn’t spare any details, either. It wasn’t so much that he trusted Tucker, but rather that the situation was dire. They’d need all hands on deck to figure out how to get back home. He finished by saying, “And that’s when I dragged you in here.”

“I think I need to see what’s going on out there,” Tucker said, nodding to the huge double doors that led out of the tower. “But I can’t right now. I don’t think I’m going to be okay for a few hours, at least. It’ll be weeks before I’m full strength. The others will probably take longer.”

“How do you know that?” Zeke asked.

Tucker answered, “I have a skill called [Alchemist’s Constitution]. Among other things, it protects me from poisons and such. Whatever’s out there is a poison, and a powerful one if it got through my resistances. I’m more than a little curious as to how you’re still standing, if I’m honest.”

“I think…I think I changed,” Zeke stated. “After what happened to me, I mean. I haven’t opened my status yet, though.”

In fact, he’d been avoiding doing just that because he was terrified of what he might find. Being marked by that demoness’s torture couldn’t do anything good, and the fact that the demon realm’s atmosphere actually seemed helpful rather than hurtful supported that instinct. He knew he’d have to look eventually, but he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

“If I can sample the atmosphere, I might be able to put something together that will help us,” Tucker stated. “It won’t be perfect, but…well, it doesn’t seem that we have much of a choice right now.”

“What do you need?” Zeke asked, already seeing where the alchemist was headed with his idea. He’d need ingredients if he was going to brew a potion that might protect them from the atmosphere.

“That’s the thing – I have no idea,” Tucker stated. “But if it’s as alien of a world out there as you described, there’s a good chance that we’re going to have to use something local as a catalyst.”

“But without going out there, you can’t be sure,” Zeke said. “And you can’t go out there or the atmosphere will poison you.”

“That’s the gist of it, kid,” Tucker said. “I don’t know. Maybe go out there and just gather anything that looks useful? Herbs, minerals, whatever. Shouldn’t be hard for you, either, what with your storage ability. Meanwhile, I think I’ll have a talk with your new friend. Before you head out, can you head upstairs to my lab and fetch something for me?”

Zeke nodded, and after Tucker explained what he wanted, he went up to the floor that contained the alchemist’s quarters. As always, he was impressed by how much Tucker had made himself at home; the floor was jam packed with alchemical supplies and equipment, with all sorts of interesting items. Only a small corner of the floor was allocated for Tucker’s personal sleeping quarters, clearly showing where the alchemist’s priorities lay. He didn’t care about personal comfort; instead, he was almost entirely focused on the advancement of his craft. Even if Tucker had a habit of being a little ruthless in the pursuit of his path, Zeke could admire the man’s focus. If Zeke possessed even half the alchemist’s singularly focused surety, he would be unstoppable.

That line of thought inevitably led Zeke to think about Oberon’s parting words. Had he gone wrong, taking up the shield? His second martial path said that he hadn’t; if he didn’t resonate with it, it certainly wouldn’t have advanced. Nor would he have felt that connection he’d felt right before the world had collapsed on him. Sacrifice. It certainly epitomized his path, even before being reborn. Everything had a price, and he’d always been willing to pay it. Whether it was in his baseball career back on Earth, where he’d unflinchingly exchanged his blood, sweat, and personal time for skill, or his trek through the troll caves, where he'd often traded personal injury for victory, he’d always understood the simple fact that no progress came without a sacrifice.

But it wasn’t the core of who he was, was it?

Regardless, Zeke had a good idea what Oberon meant when he’d talked about his path. He was self-critical enough to know that he’d made plenty of mistakes since being reborn. From his stat allocation to skill choices, he had always tried to do what felt right to him at the time. However, what felt right and what actually was right weren’t always the same thing. Case in point, he regretted taking [Mark of the Bear] enough that he’d taken a huge risk by altering it. It had turned out well, with [Avatar of the Beast] becoming an extremely powerful skill, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his battle against the warlock might have turned out differently if he’d made a more prudent choice in the first place.

Was it his job to veer off his path just to protect his friends? But what was the alternative? Let them die? Zeke wouldn’t accept that. He couldn’t. As the strongest, it was his responsibility to keep them safe. Was that even possible, though? It was a dangerous world, and a single wrong move could get just about anyone killed. And despite his focus on protecting the others, they’d been helpless before the warlock.

As he found the appropriate item – a simple, glass jug that bore more runes than Zeke had seen on anything else on the entire floor – Zeke sighed. He didn’t have time to think about his path – not until he saved his friends and they escaped the demon realm.

So, pushing his introspection aside, Zeke went back downstairs, where he found that the others had begun to stir. He handed the container to Tucker, who explained that he’d spent a small fortune to commission it a decade earlier.

“I got it to contain a radiant spirit,” he said. “Pesky thing, and a pain in the ass to capture. They’re strong, but the big problem is that they’re almost purely gaseous. They can phase right through most materials, too. So, I got this bad boy to hold one.”

“Did it work?” Zeke asked.

“It did,” Tucker stated. “But turns out, the spirit was useless for my work. Anyway, this should hold your new friend over there pretty easily.”

“Alright,” Zeke said. Then, he glanced at his other friends; they’d started moving, but none of them were awake. “Take care of them while I’m gone.”

“Focus on plant life,” Tucker instructed. “But get anything that feels powerful, yeah? Even if we can’t use it for this potion, it’ll probably be useful for something else. In the meantime, I’ll get the others up to speed and see what I can drag out of that ball of gas over there.”

Zeke nodded, and without any further delay, left the tower in search of something that might save his friends.