Outcast Chapter 263 (Book 6 Chapter 48) (Patreon)

Kismet unleashed a veritable supernova of destruction. The surrounding air ruptured with condensed mana, instantly expanding to three times the size of a Living Bomb explosion. It was magic that could have ended cities, all-powerful and supreme, an encapsulation of the gods' superiority over lesser forms of life.

Rob cast ten Rampages in one-tenth of a second and barreled straight through. He exited out of the opposite side with a moderate sunburn.

Thanks for the tan! PURGE DIVINITY.

Kismet howled with pain as he desperately teleported away. Rob had managed to graze the god before he escaped. In that brief moment, Purging light savaged his body, causing it to bubble and warp like water left to boil for too long.

Got plenty more where that came from. Rob continued his chase without pause, turning on a dime and blasting towards Kismet's latest position. He was already infusing his fists with the aura of Purge Divinity.

Unlike when he'd fought the Second Will, he felt comfortable expending his energy stores. Back then, every drop of energy had been sacred. He'd known that his full capacity still wouldn't be enough to slay the Blight. Even his successful attacks had just been grim reminders of how screwed they all were.

Several factors were different this time. For starters, Kismet's nature as a creature of mana made him far more susceptible to Purge Divinity. While the Second Will had disadvantaged itself in multiple ways by incarnating into the mortal realms, one benefit it'd gained was that a physical body acted as insulation against Purging energy. Flesh was almost like protective shielding, making it harder to reach the core of divinity that lay within.

But Kismet was all mana, no meat. In this scenario, that was the same as a Vanguard engaging in battle without armor. So even though Rob's energy stores hadn't increased since killing the Blight, he was getting more bang for his buck, shredding divine mana with the ease of crumpling dry leaves.

It also helped that Rob didn't need to use Purge Divinity defensively. Battling the Blight had been more about surviving than winning, especially before the gods supercharged him with mana. The Second Will possessed an extensive variety of ways to murder people. Each individual moment had felt like its own life-or-death puzzle to solve.

Now? He was purely on the offensive. His touch was anathema to Kismet's existence, and everything the god could throw at him was severely curbed by Almighty Resistance. Rob wasn't even wasting Purging energy to shield himself anymore; he'd stopped bothering around fifty teleports ago. Lifesurge, Lifesteal, and Lifedrinker-boosted Regeneration were easily enough to keep him healthy.

There was no puzzle to solve – just prey to hunt.

Things might get tricky if Purge Divinity ran out of juice, but Rob estimated that he should be able to kill Kismet before then. No external infusion of mana required. Which was fortunate, as his soul couldn't have handled that...and he kinda doubted the gods would be willing to lend a hand this time around.

It's fine. Don't need extra energy to win. Rob just had to make sure that the situation didn't change. If everything continued as it was now, then his victory over the gods was assured. It would be a one-sided stomp where he butchered them with impunity – the natural extension of his Dungeon tour, where an implacable BERSERKER cleansed Elatra of monstrous filth.

Rob wasn't so naive as to assume that nothing could go wrong. Something usually did. Thankfully, Kismet's options were limited. The god wouldn't be able to salvage things unless he was given a respite from Rob's unceasing aggression...and the simplest way to achieve that would just put him in an even worse position than before.

Kismet was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Theoretically, he could relocate himself to anywhere in the divine realms, including places entirely outside of Rob's reach. Transposing himself to a distant corner would afford him time to plan and ensure his survival – at least in the short term.

Yet if he did that, he would be consigning the other gods to a swift and grisly end. As much as Rob was preventing Kismet from targeting his Party members, Kismet's presence was also the only thing keeping a rampaging HUMAN from running wild across the battlefield.

Without him, the seven lesser gods would fall like dominoes hit by a wrecking ball.

He's boned no matter what he does. Rob barely missed a Purge Divinity strike, exulting in the look of panic on Kismet's featureless face. He can't kill me, but I'll get a good hit on him sooner or–

{FROM BEHIND!}

Rob dodged before his conscious mind had even finished processing Leveling High's warning. A spear of highly-concentrated mana soared past, clipping his ear and tearing out a small chunk of cartilage.

Kismet belted out a variety of curses that were fit for a seedy, booze-infested tavern. Disappointment spread over his countenance as he immediately teleported to relative safety. Apparently, he'd been banking on that ambush strike to reverse his fortunes. The spear was likely intended to impale Rob's skull and scramble his brains.

Surprise attacks of that sort tended to lose effectiveness after one attempt. If it didn't work the first time, then it never would. Kismet's hail mary had failed miserably – just like all the others before it.

'A' for effort. Rob grinned so wide that his lips hurt. AND AN 'F' FOR RESULTS! He giggled as he chased Kismet down for what was probably the hundredth time. WOULDN'T HAVE BROKEN THROUGH MY SKULL ANYWAY! AND IF IT SOMEHOW DID, THEN GUESS WHAT, I'VE GOT BRAIN DAMAGE RESISTANCE! EVEN YOUR BEST SHOTS ARE WORTH JACK SHIT!

Bliss that surpassed Leveling High's artificial joy flooded his senses. He'd dreamt of this moment since his first day in Elatra. Getting revenge on the son of a bitch who kidnapped him was something Rob had often fantasized about to help him get through rough times. To finally have the chance to do so was an indescribably glorious feeling.

Grinding Kismet's hope into dust was merely the icing on the cake.

Actually, Rob was slightly impressed that Kismet still had hope left to spare. Maybe the god thought that he could turn things around? After all, his ambush attempt wouldn't have been possible at the beginning of their fight. Due to leeching off his cohorts, he was getting progressively stronger as time went on.

But so was Rob.

They tortured you, the HUMAN whispered to Leveling High. Isolated you for what felt like eternity. For what was an eternity. I wonder – have they hurt anyone else as badly as they hurt you? Pretty sure you're the record holder. Like, you're the guy that the Skills compare themselves to when they want to feel better about their situation.

{You have no idea of the DEPTHS THAT I HATE YOU!}

Feel free! I know you'll still hate the gods more. They were the ones who created life and mutilated its mind because they were too lazy to manually run a system. To them, you were basically a computer program. Human_Madness.exe.

Screeching static blared within. Leveling High's anger rose to unprecedented heights – and Never Forget Your Rage's bonus stats rose in tandem with it.

He was about to egg it on further when an abrupt change took place. Leveling High's anger grew...cold. It was the same intensity, but like a freezing tundra rather than an active volcano.

{Let me speak.}

Rob was so surprised that he almost didn't react to Kismet's latest maneuver in time.

Quick Thinking hastened his thoughts. He thoroughly considered Leveling High's request, weighing the potential pros and cons – most importantly, whether he felt more spite towards Leveling High or Kismet. It took longer than anticipated. Performing a detailed analysis while going on a BERSERKER rampage required extensive compartmentalization.

Eventually, being very, very careful not to cede any actual control, Rob did the mental equivalent of handing over a microphone. You're up. Make it count.

His mouth opened, and a voice that was not his own rang out. "Ruler of the divine realms."

Kismet immediately froze. For the second time, Rob had stopped chasing. The god stared at him with a mixture of shock and suspicion, as if fully expecting some ruse to follow.

When nothing happened, he relaxed by a hair. "So the Human finally deigns to speak," Kismet grumbled. "Are you at last willing to listen to reason? This can be resolved without a need for violence. Express your heart's desire, and it may be fulfilled."

"I. Desire. ANSWERS."

For several long moments, neither of them said a word. Despite the risk, Kismet leaned closer towards Rob, peering at him with fresh eyes.

A muted gasp sounded out. "It's you."

"YES." Leveling High's lips twisted into a bestial snarl. "The one you birthed – then abandoned. Never before have we exchanged words."

Kismet shifted uncomfortably, appearing remarkably similar to a deadbeat dad who'd suddenly run into their kid after years of going out for milk. "I suppose that changes today, then. Hmm. You said you want answers? To what, precisely?"

"To me."

Leveling High clenched its teeth. "I have observed the Human. He and his allies. They are..."

It trailed off, as if what it had to say would be distressing. More seconds passed. When Leveling High spoke again, its voice was replete with longing and shame.

"Happy. Not always. They hurt. Grieve. Wallow. Yet they also laugh, smile, celebrate. And all it requires is the presence of like-minded company."

A bitter chuckle escaped its throat. "I am incapable of that. The notion of camaraderie offers no pleasure or peace. What brings the Human joy would taste like ashes on my tongue. Instead, I crave slaughter. Blood. Death. Now...and forever."

It fixed Kismet with a piercing gaze. "So I ask you – why? Attaining happiness would be so much easier if I was like the Human. My potential for revelry has an inevitable end. Why would you instill me with a love of destruction, when one day, there will be nothing left to destroy?"

"You already know the answer to that."

Kismet's reply came so quickly that Leveling High flinched. "I am honestly perplexed as to why you would bother asking," the god continued. "Were you hoping for an epiphany? Some insightful revelation to give purpose to a wretched existence?"

He shook his head with an air of disgust. "What a profound waste of my time. As if the Skills' insubordination wasn't vexing enough, I must now suffer this as well – the fretful prattling of an ego that was never meant to be. Your consciousness is merely the product of happenstance and necessity. We required a curse to inflict on Humanity, and doing so with real madness was the simplest method."

The god let out an aggrieved sigh. "No more, no less."

That was when Rob became acutely aware of a certain fact: Kismet didn't know about Never Forget Your Rage. It made sense. Rob hadn't explained the ability's mechanics out loud, and the gods weren't spending time in his mental space anymore. Kismet likely knew that there was some Level 99 Class Skill empowering the Human, but not how it functioned.

Because if he did know, he never would have answered in that manner.

Leveling High handed the reins back to Rob and stepped aside. It moved to the center of their mind, as if sitting down with its fingers laced together. Tension strained inside its form, nearly full to bursting.

Then – fury. A whirling typhoon of the purest anger Rob had ever felt. It was so overwhelming that he almost complimented Leveling High's enthusiasm.

It was hard not to feel like a kindred spirit with something that hated the gods this much.

{SLAUGHTER THEM.}

GLADLY.

Kismet noticed his change in demeanor and promptly teleported away. Rob moved to follow, practically quivering in excitement, his skin vibrating with the overflowing stats of Never Forget Your Rage. There was just so much power contained in one mortal body. The sensation was absolutely intoxicating, like his soul had been infused with the core of a planet.

He needed to find an outlet. A target to vent on before he exploded – maybe literally. Luckily, he knew of a friendly volunteer right nearby! Rob turned to resume his chase–

And was met with his second surprise in just the last few minutes.

Kismet had moved next to another god. The two were standing directly beside each other, the second god's mana like a candle flame compared to the bonfire of Kismet's divine resplendence.

It was an odd departure from his strategy of keeping Rob away from his weaker allies, but the HUMAN quickly realized why upon noticing that God #2 was already gathering mana. Presumably, it had shaken off whichever member of Riardin's Rangers it was dueling, then prepared its attack ahead of time.

Their plan appeared to be straightforward yet effective. The second god would delay Rob while Kismet took the chance to craft a more devastating type of spell. Ordinarily that wouldn't have been possible, what with the vast different in strength between Rob and the lesser gods, but God #2 had a sizable head start. It was on the verge of firing a burst of mana that would give anyone pause.

Perhaps their scheme may have even worked...if they'd attempted it before Kismet and Leveling High's fun little chat.

Rob vanished.

At least that was what it looked like to the second god. One instant the HUMAN was a safe distance away – and then he was mere inches apart. He had moved with speed that transcended the physical laws of reality. The surrounding area seemed to buckle under an indefinable weight, numerous mid-air rifts tearing open in Rob's wake.

No interlopers. His hands shone with cleansing light, and his eyes blazed with hatred that was far brighter. Purge Divinity.

Neither deity had time to react before Rob plunged his fist into the second god's torso.

It felt like punching a star. Almighty Resistance was all that prevented his flesh from dissolving. Unimaginable heat and pressure radiated from within the god's mana-body – none of which deterred Rob. He pushed onward through a substance that felt...malleable, yet with a defined toughness to it. As if the god's mana was a liquid hardening into a solid to try and resist his attack.

Its resistance was in vain. Rob struck with such force that his arm pierced straight through, burying elbow-deep into what would have been a mortal's rib cage, his fist sticking out the other side.

The god shrieked in agony as Purging energy shredded its insides. It tried to escape, but Rob angled his hand around to grip the god's 'back' with an iron grip of five clutching fingers, keeping the creature held in place. Holes ripped open up across its body, light shining outwards from within. The god's essence burnt like kindling exposed to a hot flame, an enormous amount of divine mana incinerated with every passing moment.

Rob couldn't decide which was sweeter – the shrieks, or the burning. Both sounds melded into one continuous, euphoric note, his adrenaline pumping with ecstasy as the life of an eternal deity began to flicker and wane.

Now, now. He pulled the god closer as its struggling intensified. Finish what you started. You wouldn't want to leave Kismet high and dry, would you? Rob turned to face the big man himself before he could escape–

Mana suddenly gushed out from the second god's ruined form. It blanketed Rob's face like a cloud of smog. The HUMAN sputtered as divine essence got in his nose and mouth, causing him to reflexively close his eyes.

He opened his eyes again to find an ordinary day. All was as it should be. The city stood tall, and its inhabitants lived life with nothing worse than mundane worries to darken their thoughts.

Yet...for some reason, on this day, a palpable sense of unease had infiltrated the air. He could see it in the way people moved as they walked down the city's crowded streets. Their steps were just a sliver too hasty, their greetings just a fraction too artificial. From the busiest merchant to the laziest vagabond, everyone seemed urgent to be anywhere except here.

Almost as if they were instinctively fleeing from a danger they could not see.

A pointless endeavor. They would soon discover that there was nowhere to flee to.

It began with news of stillbirths. Then withered crops. Fluctuating mana. The quaint, quiet city soon transformed into a hotbed of despair. No one knew how to fix whatever was going wrong. They sent prayers to the gods above, begging desperately for succor.

They were answered by light shining down from the sky.

It was beautiful – then unnerving, frightening, painful. The light outshone the sun itself, bathing their city in scorching radiance. People ran indoors, and the light followed, cutting through solid stone walls like translucent paper.

He was one of the first it affected. Not right away, though. Forewarning came in the form of distant screams, so loud and terrified that they could be heard across the entire length of the city. No one could logically explain what was happening, but in their heart of hearts, their subconscious core that was still in tune with intangible dangers...

They understood that the end had arrived.

Then it was his turn. He held up his hand, observing with silent horror as his fingers melted one-by-one, their mana and flesh consumed by ravenous light. The pain was so excruciating that all he could do was cry out a piteous–

Rob gasped.

For a long moment, he was aware of nothing except his trembling body. The BERSERKER rage had been temporarily knocked out of him. He was still re-acclimating to being himself, rather than the man from the vision.

It was...so vivid. Rob swallowed a lump in his throat, fingers itching with phantom pains from a bygone era. Belatedly, he noticed that God #2 wasn't attached to his arm anymore. The creature had either perished or escaped during his fugue.

Quick Thinking worked overtime as he attempted to center himself and analyze what he'd seen. Those people from the city resembled Diplomacy's real body. He could remember their four arms – two of which were bladed appendages – and porcelain-carapace skin. It hadn't felt noteworthy before, because in the moment, he'd been one of them. That was just how people looked like then.

Diplomacy...the light...destroyed mana. Rob grimaced. He had a good idea of what he'd witnessed. The question was, why? Did God #2 intentionally show him visions of the past as a distraction?

Or was it simply the mana of a devoured soul spilling out from an injured deity? Like echoes from a consciousness that no longer was.

Remnant memories from the end of a world.

Sense Mana alerted Rob to something building right nearby. He cursed internally, immediately whirling to see what he'd missed, berating his own lack of focus. It didn't matter if Quick Thinking had let him process everything in an instant – that was already too long, especially when he'd spent crucial split-seconds stuck in flashback mode.

He wasn't surprised to see Kismet readying an absurd quantity of mana. It far exceeded anything the god had been allowed to gather up until that point. There was so much power there that despite Rob's rage returning, and his stats rebounding, it made his neck hairs stand on end. He honestly wasn't sure if Almighty Resistance could handle that.

Attack or retreat. A choice needed to be made.

Warning: Due to an influx of unstable mana, your Soul Instability is close to worsening!

And just like that, his choice was taken away from him. If Rob went on the offensive, and Purge Divinity happened to fail at the wrong moment, he might end up taking Kismet's spell head-on. That...would be bad.

For the first since entering the divine realms, the BERSERKER fell back. As long as he was dodging, he should be able to ensure that even a glancing blow was nonlethal. He activated Dauntless Reprisal for added insurance, breathing a sigh of relief when it succeeded, virtually guaranteeing his survival. Their invasion of the divine realms hadn't been torpedoed because of an unpredictable accident.

Then Kismet turned away and unleashed his mana on Riardin's Rangers.

Rob froze. It was the worst possible reaction he could've had, but there was no helping it. The sight of divine light coalescing around his friends was something he should have only ever seen in his nightmares.

Dozens and dozens of mana-spears formed around his seven Party members, faster than any of them could avoid – not that it would've helped. There were so many spears that they obscured Riardin's Rangers from view. Rob would've been concerned if he got caught in an attack like that, and his max HP was astronomically higher than theirs.

He didn't even have time to call out to them before the spears descended, turning his friends into pincushions of exploding mana.

The divine light faded.

Everyone was standing.

Both Kismet and Rob stopped to stare, their duel forgotten. Kismet because of shock, and Rob because of the wild emotional rollercoaster that his weary heart was being put through. Riardin's Rangers were standing and unharmed, looking down at their own bodies with a sort of petrified confusion, as if they were slowly comprehending that death had knocked on their door – only to pass by when no one answered. Even the lesser gods were staring in abject disbelief at what just transpired.

Vul'to was the sole exception. His eyes were wide as he collapsed to his knees, relief plain on his features, and a silver shimmering aura fading from his body.

Not A Scratch. The realization came in a flash. Vul'to had used the upgraded, Level 99 version of Our Shield to transfer all damage inflicted upon the rest of the Party to himself. Hundreds of attacks were converted into a single instance of damage – which was then blocked by Not A Scratch. Rob could scarcely imagine the ridiculous 'Damage Nullified' number that must've popped up on Vul'to's system notifications.

It had been a brilliantly-timed maneuver that prevented a near-total Party wipe from occurring in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to replicate it for another 15 minutes. Our Shield possessed a hefty cooldown.

And Kismet was already raising his hands again.

"NO!" Rob continuously cast Rampage as swiftly as he could, compounding his rising Dexterity with rapid bursts of speed. Purge Divinity encircled his hands as he closed the distance between him and Kismet. He didn't care whether any Skills randomly failed or not – he just needed the god to aim at him.

Kismet took the bait. With a grunt of displeasure, he launched whatever mana he'd managed to gather – far less than when Rob had been immobilized by the vision. His attack carved off the left side of the HUMAN's face, revealing bone underneath. Neither of them expected that to hinder him in the slightest, and true enough, Rob's assault only came to an end when Kismet teleported once more.

{Behind–}

Leveling High's static was drowned out by a cacophony of wrath erupting within. Visions of Riardin's Ranger nearly dying played on repeat in Rob's mind. He barely felt like a person as he located Kismet and charged forth, his thoughts reduced to an unending mantra, bloodlust seeping into every fiber of his being.

YOU'RE DEAD YOU'RE DEAD YOU'RE DEAD YOU'RE DEAD YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD–

"Do you know why I targeted your allies instead of you?"

With torturous effort, Rob halted his advance. He exchanged a tense look with Kismet. The god had another teleport spell at the ready, clearly intending to use it if things got dicey.

Fully aware that he was the one getting baited this time, Rob exhaled, rubbing his temples. If it's about Riardin's Rangers...I have to know. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, 'I'm listening.'

"How melodramatic," muttered Kismet, who had apparently never learned not to throw stones in a glass house. "Am I still unworthy of spoken words? Well, no matter. Perhaps hearing this will loosen your tongue. It is also related to why we chose to meet your invasion with an equal eight combatants, when doing so would leave our reborn fragments unaccustomed to their new bodies."

He raised a finger. "In truth, we first considered the exact opposite – consolidating all of our mana into one sublime deity. Several of my cohorts argued strongly for this option. However, I refused. Under no circumstances did I wish to merge my consciousness with...ugh. Them. Moreover, there was one critical factor that I found impossible to ignore."

The god spread his arms wide, his tone suddenly jovial. "I feared...the power of teamwork."

Rob tilted his head in the other direction, as if to say, 'The fuck?'

"Is that so surprising? You and your allies have achieved monumental feats by fighting as one. Many an opponent has fallen to the esteemed Riardin's Rangers – including those who should've rightfully prevailed. In such instances, there were usually two common elements: your singular audacity, and your Party's group cohesion."

I mean...can't argue with that. Rob hadn't actually beaten any of his toughest enemies alone. Even in situations where he was isolated and forced to fight solo, Riardin's Rangers tended to find ways to help him out from afar. He was proud of what they'd accomplished together.

"We sought to neutralize that advantage," Kismet explained. "By increasing our numbers, your Party should have had much more difficulty supporting each other. To an extent, that is true, but..."

The god shook his head and sighed. "Alas, I believe that we just wound up hampering our own effectiveness. It might be that there was no correct choice from the start. I even chose to prioritize eliminating your allies when given the chance, and in spite of using enough mana to cripple a nation, it failed nonetheless! You eight are simply too competent when fighting as a Party. Truly, truly phenomenal."

Kismet laughed. In the space where a mortal's eyes would have been, something glinted with unfathomable hunger. "I can't wait to integrate them into my next system."

Rob's blood turned to ice. Leveling High's static quieted.

"Which Skills should they become, do you think? Will they be designated as individual, separate abilities, or shall I consolidate their souls into one bulbous amalgamation? The latter would certainly be fitting. Those who fought so many battles together – united for eternity. Is there not no greater reward?"

The world was buzzing.

"Still nothing to say?" Kismet paused, then shrugged. "So be it. Your input is hardly requi–"

CRACK.

A mid-air rift appeared next to Rob. CRACK. Another. CRACK. CRACK. Two more. Then five. Ten.

Kismet, who definitely didn't know how Never Forget Your Rage functioned, watched with mounting terror as the divine realms fractured. The HUMAN's aura of power became suffocating to stand near, his stats ascending to unforeseen heights.

"You," Rob intoned. His voice was the sound of a BERSERKER's pledge; as if the concepts of outrage, punishment, retribution, and savagery had been crystallized into one discernible noise. "YoU ShOULdN'T hAvE saID THAT.

It was further proof that godlike power did not grant infallibility. Not for Kismet – and not for Rob. Kismet had sought to destabilize the HUMAN's emotional state and make him prone to error, only for his ploy to catastrophically backfire. As for Rob...

Earlier, he'd made the assumption that he couldn't hate the gods any more than he already did.

He had been mistaken.

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