Outcast Chapter 249 (Book 6 Chapter 34) (Patreon)

Author's Note:

10300 words. The longest single chapter in the series...so far.

--

<"That attack you were planning on the Spire? Now would be a good time.">

Dimensional Message cut off before Jason could respond. He was tempted to re-activate it and ask for more info, then decided otherwise. Rob wouldn't have ended the call if he wasn't busy dealing with something urgently important – and dangerous.

That was all Jason needed to know.

"We're heading out," he said, turning to face his team. "Spire attack is happening right now. I'll answer questions on the way. Danse, you got that thing I asked for?" The sergeant nodded. "Good, then you're piloting. Let's go."

To their credit, his team didn't waste time. After a brief moment of stunned surprise, Jeanette, Lucio, and Baker swiftly gathered their weapons and anti-Corruption Amulets, heading straight for the exit. Jason wasn't far behind.

Good thing we camped out at the closest base to the Spire, he mused. Should only take us a couple minutes to get there. No clue what we'll find inside, but–

His cell phone started ringing. With narrowed eyes, Jason fished it out of his pocket, frowning at the caller ID displaying 'STICK UP ASS'. He answered the phone and held it up to his ear, not bothering to put it on speaker. "I just checked for listening devices yesterday, general. How fucking paranoid are you?"

"As much as I need to be," the general snapped. "Miller, stand down. You are not to invade the Spire."

Jason ran as he talked. "You seemed fine with the idea before."

"Because you're a volatile contrarian who would've immediately gone off half-cocked if I'd denied you! Miller...just think. For one moment, think. Your life is a vital asset. We need you to combat the Outsiders, and the public needs you as a symbol. If you die in there, everything goes to shit."

"Duly noted," Jason replied, in an overly-serious tone. "I'll take that under advisement and be sure not to die."

"This isn't up for debate, Miller! It's an order!"

At that, he simply laughed. "General, you gotta know by now that I don't really 'do' orders too well."

"Fine. Fine! Consider it a request, then!" the general pleaded. The fact that he'd been reduced to placating Jason's ego showed how desperate he truly was. "Not just from me. The military, the country, the world – we're all asking you to stand down here."

For a moment, there was silence. "Alright. I understand. This isn't just you being a jackass on a power trip." He arched one eyebrow. "A request from the world, huh?"

"Exactly," the general replied, relief plain in his voice. "Then–"

"Thing is...Rob made a request too." Jason smiled. "And his outranks the world's."

"Wait–"

He ended the call with a cheerful flourish, cutting off whatever the general had been about to say. Don't care. Rob knows more about what's going on than anyone. Either he made the right call, or we're riding down that cliff to hell together. I'm cool either way.

After a moment, he blocked the general's number. Didn't want a ringtone interrupting whatever trash talk he got into with the Blightspawn of the Spire. Least I hope these ones can talk. Hard to get hyped when they can't.

Jason's smile widened as he and his team raced outside. While Rob wasn't home just yet, it still felt nice to fight by his side, albeit in a roundabout way. The thought made Jason's confidence surge with each step – between the two of them, they had this in the bag.

--

Deathly terror seized Rob's heart as a god moved to crush him.

No screams or protestations left his lips. Both would have required more mental energy than he could spare. His conscious thoughts had long since been abandoned, replaced by an unending note of pure, unfiltered panic. In lieu of complex strategy, he'd resorted to the primal instinct of running really fucking fast, trusting his adrenaline-fueled legs to deliver him to freedom.

There wasn't much else to do when a limb the size of a tall building dropped from above.

"It is shifting," Duran informed, his hands clutching Rob's shoulders like iron claws. "Head right. Ninety-degree angle."

He obliged, taking a sharp turn without losing any speed. The one bright spot in all this was that a creature as gargantuan as the Second Will wasn't particularly agile. Gravity – annoyed with how Blights kept flaunting the laws of physics – was doing its best to weigh the beast down. Even with the Second Will's incomprehensible, reality-defying power, it was marginally slower than Rob would have expected.

Of course, 'slow' was relative when dealing with something that ridiculously large.

The ground erupted like a volcano as a million tons of Blighted flesh slammed down mere yards behind. Rob cast Like the Wind to renew Step of the Wind, then sprinted as fast as his feet would carry him, narrowly avoiding the massive sinkhole opening up at his heels. He did a running leap just as the ground fell out from under him, Dexterity and Perception helping him keep balance as he landed at the very edge of safety.

There was no time for relief. The Second Will was already retracting its limb, another one raising to take the first's place.

This isn't sustainable, Rob admitted. He'd performed this song and dance in many different fights – although he was typically on the other end, assuming the role of a nigh-unkillable juggernaut facing off against a speedy bastard. In truth, he preferred it that way. No one was perfect. A fighter could dodge for as long as they wanted, but if their prospects hinged on never getting hit, it usually didn't turn out well for them.

"Move up-right," Duran instructed, his voice wavering. "Sixty deg–"

"Change of plans." Rob ignored the Elder's advice, running in the exact opposite direction of the Blight, heedless of how his path situated him right below its next attack. If he was going to play this card early, then he needed to use the opportunity to put some distance between them. "Hold on tight and duck low."

Duran sucked in a harsh breath. "Rob, I..." He paused, exhaling. "I trust you."

I'll make sure it's rewarded. Rob glanced up, confirming that he was about to become a Human pancake within the next few seconds. He stood firm, raising both hands. This thing might be monstrously strong – but one limb isn't more destructive than a nuke.

Dauntless Reprisal.

83,638 Damage Reflected!

A colossal blow instantly sent Rob burrowing into the dirt like a drill powered by rocket boosters. He reversed momentum with Rampage and the Bracelet of Teleportation, putting him and Duran back on solid ground, no worse for the wear. Despite his Skill's caveat of 'physics still apply', they'd taken precisely zero damage.

The Second Will wasn't so lucky. Its limb ruptured from the inside, as if thousands of bombs had detonated within, Corruption and Blighted flesh spewing out in chucks. A screech-laugh echoed from myriad mouths as the creature reveled in its own pain. The ruined appendage retreated, injured but capable of movement. Like clockwork, yet another rose up.

Rob grimaced. That much damage would've been enough to severely wound a normal Blight. The Second Will had lost just one limb, probably temporarily, and now Dauntless Reprisal was on cooldown for two minutes.

He started running again.

"I must ask," Duran inquired, with a calm tone that belied his rapid heartbeat. "Is it feasible for you to utilize Purge Corruption in this scenario?" The Elder kept his eyes peeled, ready to warn Rob if the Second Will's counterattack shifted. "I understand that it requires touch to activate, and..."

"Yeah. Easier said than done." They were too busy dodging to think about retaliating. Each limb strike was like a falling skyscraper equipped with homing technology – not the easiest thing in the world to avoid, and the aftereffects didn't help either. Their battleground was already littered with sinkholes that would've swallowed them up if Rob misjudged his balance for even an instant.

He'd tried to use Purge Corruption when reflecting the last limb, but his fingers had only touched the Second Will for a fraction of a second then. Longer contact would be needed for the Skill to take effect, especially if the abomination had gained any Purging resistance from its interrupted Ascension. Once again: easier said than done.

And somehow not our biggest problem. "Even if I get the chance to use all of my Purge reserves, it won't kill the Second Will outright. That monstrosity has so much HP that I'm tempted to say it's compensating for something. We'll have to wear it down the old-fashioned way as well."

Duran titled his head. "Second Will?"

"I'll tell you later. For now–"

Rob's head snapped to the side as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. With a flicker, Vul'to's group popped into existence.

The Second Will immediately turned on them. An entire side of its enormous body split open, revealing a cavernous maw with the pitch-black vacuum of the abyss within.

It spurred Vul'to group into action. Seneschal Sylpeiros threw his lightning spear, the mage soldiers launched destructive elemental spells, and the archers shot off a volley of Skill-infused arrows. Their efforts amounted to little more than mosquito bites. Tiny flecks of Blight-flesh were shaved off as the creature, undaunted, started to build Corrupted energy inside itself.

With a blur of motion, Rob reached for the radio. He'd seen Blights do this in the past, and he knew what was about to happen. There was a way to defend from it – so long as you were given proper warning.

He didn't even have time to press Talk before a rolling cloud of miasma was expelled from the Second Will's mouth.

Thankfully, Vul'to had been on the same page. He cast a protective Soul Shield around his group and extended it as far out as he could. Corruptive miasma washed over it, sizzling against the barrier like water splashing on a hot furnace. The Soul Guardian grit his teeth, knees trembling, a spiderweb of cracks spreading through the Shield as an eldritch god unleashed its essence upon him.

Eventually, mercifully, the cloud dispersed. Vul'to collapsed to the ground as if he'd run a marathon in weighted shoes. His effort had been well worth it, though – nearly everyone in their group was alive, having huddled inside the sanctuary afforded by his Soul Shield.

Those who hadn't were gone. Three soldiers happened to be just outside the Shield when the Second Will's miasma hit. At least Rob thought it was three, because nothing was left of them to count. Not even bones remained.

He saw realization alight in the group's eyes right before they vanished once more.

Rob felt relief and unease in equal measure. If that attack had been used on Keira's group, they wouldn't have been able to defend themselves. It was actually fortuitous that Vul'to's group was the one to pop into existence. However, whether the Soul Guardian could pull off that stunt a second time was questionable – he'd likely depleted much of his energy reserves just now.

Conversely, the Second Will seemed completely unphased, exhibiting no signs of exertion. Launching a cloud of Corruption had cost nothing. It was Corruption; the progenitor and source. Wondering how much it would need to expel before tiring was like wondering how long it would take for the sun to burn out.

The Second Will's many eyes swiveled in Rob's direction. Some large, some small, some reddened, some growing on stalks. All stared at him, unblinking, as blackened miasma built inside its maw yet again.

An idea came to Rob. He seized on it without thinking – which was just as well, because he probably would've convinced himself it was stupid if there was time to second-guess. With a disaffected nonchalance, he held up his right palm. "Pause."

Duran sputtered. A baffled silence stretched on. The Second Will's mouth closed, its eyes bulging as an ancient voice resounded across the Deadlands. WHAT?

"You're going about this all wrong." Rob forced a smirk, pushing fake-it-till-you-make-it to the absolute limit. "You want me at my best, right? I saw your memories. You think I'm special. Flattered, by the way. Always knew I deserved a bigger ego. Should negotiate a pay raise with the Grand Overseers after I kick your ass."

He shook his head. "Thing is, this isn't the kind of fight you want. You came out swinging, and it's put me on the backfoot from the word go. What happens the next time you attack me and I've run out of ways to dodge or block?"

Rob excised any traces of levity from his tone. "In that case...it's already over. The only mortal capable of doing you permanent harm will be dead. My unique existence – gone."

The Heartkiller gazed upon the Second Will with eyes as cold as winter. "Didn't know you were in such a rush to greet the void again."

A great rumbling, like a faraway earthquake, emanated from the creature's monstrous form. I HAVE BROUGHT MY EVERYTHING TO BEAR. IF YOU FALL QUICKLY, THEN THAT IS ALL YOU WERE WORTH.

Got you. While the Second's Will's voice was borderline incomprehensible...Rob had still detected a sliver of hesitance there. He kept his poker face steady as he prepared his response.

"I'm not saying you should weaken yourself." Shrug, then wait one second, just as Diplomacy had taught. "Wouldn't hurt you to give me some time to plan, though. That's where I shine the brightest." Total bullshit. Most of his victories were – at minimum – half improv. "I can guarantee that you'll get a better fight that way. Gimme a couple minutes to think, and then we're back in business. God vs. Mortal, no holds barred, winner takes all."

Rob put on a savage grin. "Don't you want to see what that would be like?"

The Second Will vibrated with some indefinable emotion. A thin line snaked up the sides of its torso, forming a smile shaped like a crescent moon.

SHOW ME.

Rob suppressed a shiver. He'd won this round, but it felt closer to a stay of execution than a true victory. If the Second Will hadn't overshared its memories earlier, he likely wouldn't have pulled it off.

Those recollections of tortured eons, combined with everything else Rob knew of the Blight, had clued him in to the monster's biggest weakness – its obsessions. More than anything else, the Second Will wished to feel, and it had finally learned enough about delayed gratification to know that a degree of anticipation made for a highly satisfying conclusion. As such, it was content to let its prey struggle in vain for a time.

That reprieve wouldn't last forever. Sooner or later, the devourer of worlds would make good on its investment.

Just then, Rob was startled by Dimensional Message activating. <"Checking in,"> Jason said, sounding rather chipper. <"Things are going well over here. You?">

Rob took a moment to compose his nerves. He couldn't let Jason know that things were SNAFU on this end – it would distract him. "All good. We're–"

An alert pinged on the radio. "Sorry, got another call. Glad things are going well for you." Rob abruptly ended their Message, glad for the excuse to sign off. His poker face was really getting a workout today. He'd just picked up the radio when Seneschal Sylpeiros began talking through it.

"I am strongly advising that we make for a tactical retreat," the Seneschal implored, stress evident in his voice. "Our alliance cannot hope to combat...whatever this nightmare is."

It was a tempting prospect. Hating himself, Rob pressed Talk and said the words that no one wanted to hear. "Retreat isn't an option. This is our one shot at winning."

"And why the fuck is that?"

"Notice how it hasn't moved from its spot?" Rob gestured towards the Second Will, feeling a tad silly when he remembered that only Duran could see him. "The Secon– the Blight was attempting to merge with a Dungeon when we arrived and interrupted it. I think we caught the thing with its pants on the ground, and that the reason it hasn't moved is that it can't. If we leave, it'll finish the merge, get stronger, set itself free, and then hunt us down anyway."

He didn't say his other reason for refusing to retreat. It wasn't a concept they'd be able to fully understand. Not without having witnessed the same memories as him. Because despite the Second Will's seemingly insurmountable strength...this was in fact the weakest it had ever been.

When arriving at Elatra centuries ago, it first clashed with the gods, then got separated, then hibernated in a pseudo-coma, then got its disparate parts picked off by someone with an ability that could permanently destroy it, then got obsessed enough to drag things out – to its detriment. A confluence of improbable events had led to this opportunity, this miracle among miracles.

And all of that would be for nothing if the alliance failed. Otherwise, the Second Will would consume Elatra, regain its strength, and go on its merry way. Ravaging planets, ending civilizations. An unstoppable facet of reality that no mortal could possibly face under normal circumstances.

If they didn't kill it here, no one ever would.

"Explain yourself," Sylpeiros said. "How can you be so certain that the creature is incapable of moving from its position? For all we know, it has chosen to remain stationary as a sort of mockery against us."

Rob spread his arms to the sky. "If I am wrong, then let the gods strike me dead with righteous fury."

Must you be so juvenile? Kismet sighed. Yes, your hypothesis is correct.

Got anything better to offer me than words?

We are analyzing the Blight's form. Give us time.

"Big help, thanks," Rob grumbled. He cleared his throat and pressed Talk. "As you can see – what with the lack of smiting – pretty sure I'm right. Either we win here, or we're dead regardless."

"Then I bid you all farewell," Ragnavi drawled. "I'd say it was a pleasure knowing you, yet even one raised in the court of nobles would balk at such a brazen lie."

Rob slammed the alert button to shut her up. "Listen. The Blight's range is long, yeah? It has giant goddamn limbs and miasma clouds and who knows what else. But its range isn't infinite. Instead of a full retreat, we should back up to a spot where it can't touch us, then make plans while our mages and archers chip away."

He frowned. "We should also try to move our groups closer to each other. Whenever you guys appear, you're always so far in the distance. Might be easier for our perceptions to align if–"

"MOVEMENT!" Duran shouted.

Rob immediately spam-cast Rampage. A trio of wrecking ball-sized projectiles traveling well over 100 miles-per-hour crashed onto the spot where he'd been. When the dust cleared, he wasn't surprised to see deep craters carved into the ground. Inside them were three spheres of squirming Blight-flesh, each more than twenty feet tall and wide.

Guess the Second Will took offense at me suggesting we should move outside its range. The thought had scarcely entered his mind when the spheres began to mutate, rapidly transforming into huge, animalistic Blightspawn. A wolf, a spider, and a bat – or at least reasonable approximations of them.

"Long legs and wings," Rob muttered. "Mobile. To hunt me down. Keep me from running." He glanced at the Second Will. Its gargantuan form seemed to quiver with mirth. After an appropriately dramatic pause, it raised one of its limbs, preparing for another ground-shattering attack.

Shit. As the three Blightspawn lunged forward, Rob activated Quick Thinking and Step of the Wind. He strafed sideways to dodge their opening assault, keeping both the Blightspawn and the Second Will in his field of vision. Identify was cast multiple times in succession, informing him of what he'd already assumed. Level 83. Level 85. Level 88. The Second Will had – on a whim – coughed up Blightspawn that were stronger than most Elatran Leaders.

Good thing, then, that he wasn't most Leaders. Making a split-second judgement, Rob drew his longsword and cast Enmity on the Bat-Blightspawn. It had seemed slightly faster than its cohorts. The monster let out a warbling screech and immediately divebombed him, Enmity's rage-inducing effect causing it to forgo any notion of strategy or caution.

Rob's longsword was there to welcome it. He stacked a litany of offensive buffs onto his next swing, infusing it with Imbue Vitality, Power Slash, Bulk Up, and the Anklet of Brawn. It would've been nice to hold some abilities in reserve, yet that wasn't an option. Not if he wanted to kill a Level 85 monster in one blow.

Which he did.

A tremor reverberated through the air as Rob's longsword cleaved the Bat-spawn from head to tail. Headsman increased the damage dealt by 30%, compounded by an additional 25% due to the creature being under Enmity's thrall. Most of its flesh was annihilated in that instant, leaving behind just twitching pieces of wing and torso.

In case it could somehow regenerate from that, Rob capped off his strike with a Riardin Special, kicking explosives into the monster's remains. He only allowed himself to presume that it was dead after bountiful EXP started flowing into his mind.

One down. Two to go. The Wolf and Spider were already in hot pursuit, unbothered by the loss of their comrade. From afar, the Second Will had finished raising its limb, ready to let it fall like a guillotine onto Rob's neck.

Time slowed as he considered his options.

Purge Corruption would swiftly kill the other two Blightspawn. That was the easy plan – pop them like balloons, then block the Second Will's limb with Dauntless Reprisal. Problem was, he needed to save all his Purging energy for the Second Will's main body. Using it on Blightspawn he could defeat via normal means would just be a waste.

Want them dead fast. No Imbue Vitality or Power Slash for next attack. Possible to block limb *then* kill monsters, but couldn't guarantee Duran's safety. Too much going on. Hmm. There's other Skills. Blood for Blood...

It said something about Duran's expectations for Rob that the Elder didn't say a peep as the BERSERKER began slicing his own body to ribbons. Since Platelet Party prevented bleeding entirely, he was perfectly safe as long as he used his HP as a guide for when to stop. Letting the Blightspawn shred him would've also been an option, yet they'd take too long, and time was of the essence.

Those were the thoughts Rob used to make himself feel less crazy as he chopped away. While self-mutilation for increased battle efficiency had become a depressingly common strategy, it wasn't something a person really got used to.

27% HP remaining...19% HP...11%. Good enough. Blood for Blood boosted his damage by 1% for every percent of missing HP, theoretically all the way up to 99%, but he needed some breathing room to take a hit or two. That damage increase still wouldn't have been sufficient to kill a Level 80+ Blightspawn, yet Rob had another ace up his sleeve – one of the earliest Passive Skills he'd learned since coming to Elatra.

"You shouldn't have become a spider," he hissed, dashing forward. "I goddamn hate spiders." He drove his longsword directly into the insectoid Blightspawn's skull.

Arachnophobia: deal an additional 300% damage to spiders.

Its head practically exploded at his touch. Blightspawn didn't necessarily need their heads to function, but the shock of it immobilized the spider for a precious second. In that brief span, Rob ruthlessly hacked its body to pieces, more flesh rupturing wherever his sword went.

By the time his grisly work had been completed, only a pile of motionless chunks remained.

Reached Level 97!
5 Stat Points Gained!

Berserker Level Increased! 96 → 97

Leveling High's containment has reduced from 65% to 60%!

Artificial joy flooded his mind. Rob ignored it. More important things to focus on. The Second Will had begun lowering its limb, and there was still one enemy left to handle. He turned to meet the Wolf's lunge, already planning how to–

Head. Close. Glistening fangs were mere inches from his face. How was it so close? Had he misjudged how far the Wolf could leap?

Then he noticed that its neck was thrice its normal length. It had extended outwards, Corrupted muscles stretching like taffy. Oh. Right. Isn't wolf. Blightspawn. His surprise immobilized him for a single instant. Much less than the spider's full second, but on the battlefield, an instant may as well have been an eternity.

Words were whispered behind him. Pressurized air shot forth as Elder Duran's spell collided with the Wolf, shifting its momentum by a fraction. The Blightspawn snapped its teeth around empty air, millimeters away from taking a chunk out of Rob's neck.

He didn't squander the opening that Duran had given him. Rob sprinted past the Wolf's side, avoiding its claws with a well-timed Rampage, then positioned himself next to its tail – which he promptly grabbed with both hands.

And pulled.

The Wolf-Blightspawn was no small creature. Not a single human on Earth could have moved it with their bare hands. But Rob, with his 65 Strength, the lingering buffs from Bulk Up and the Anklet of Brawn, and a waterfall of adrenaline pumping through his veins...he managed. The first few feet were difficult, yet once inertia began working in his favor, the Wolf quickly found itself lifting up and off the ground.

Every muscle in Rob's body ached, as if his entire body was tensing at once. With a vicious growl, he spun the Wolf around by its tail, angled up, and released. The Blightspawn was sent soaring skyward.

It crashed into the Second Will's descending limb like a fly against a car windshield.

"DAUNTLESS REPRISAL!"

104,325 Damage Reflected!

The Second Will bellowed an unearthly shriek as another of its limbs was torn apart. Rob's HP went in the opposite direction as he activated Dauntless Reprisal's secondary effect to heal his self-inflicted wounds. He and Duran were sent drilling into the ground once more, but two casts of Rampage served to reverse momentum and end their stint as Elatra's new race of molemen.

Rob wore an ear-to-ear smile as they rose up, the fiery thrill of victory surging through his soul. With no lasting damage taken to himself, he'd killed three major Blightspawn, injured the Second Will again, and leveled up. That deserved at least a pat on the back. Hell, he almost hoped that the Second Will would keep sending over tough monsters for him to knock off. After a few dozen Leader-tier Blightspawn, maybe reaching Level 99 in the middle of this fight wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility.

Then he exited the hole – and was immediately struck with a jarring sense of déjà vu.

Head. Close. Significantly larger than the last. Size of a house. No eyes; all mouth and teeth.

It belonged to the Second Will. A gargantuan head was protruding from the main body, neck stretched hundreds of feet out. As if mocking Rob for imagining that they could ever escape its range.

Within the next quarter of a second, it would bite down.

Quick Thinking Level Increased! 5 → 6

Time froze.

Rob considered his options – and came to understand how many of them had been taken away from him. Dauntless Reprisal was on cooldown. Waymark would take too long to activate. Couldn't Rampage to safety, as the head's mouth was too big to sidestep and moving too fast to outrun. He likely could've reacted in time if he'd seen the attack coming, but the Second Will's limb strike had sent him plunging underground for a bit, where his vision was momentarily obscured.

Fucker set me up. If Rob was the type to laud enemies for their successes, perhaps he would have admired the Second Will's ingenuity. As it stood, he was too consumed by hatred and loathing to bother.

He checked his Character Sheet. 2690 max HP. 2696, after Lifedrinker increased it from the two Blightspawn kills. Didn't get credit or EXP for the third one. Second Will stole the last hit. Prick. Still – 2696 HP. More than any Combat Class user aside from the Dragon Queen. Backed up by loads of passive defensive Skills.

It would be reduced to 0 in a heartbeat if the Second Will started chewing on him. And the less said about what would happen to Duran, the better.

Can't dodge, can't escape, can't even reduce the damage. Can't do...anything. Huh.

Tranquility flowed through him as he realized that fact. If he couldn't do anything, then really, there was just one option left available.

Give the Second Will what it wanted.

He reached behind and pushed Duran off his back. The Elder didn't have time to protest before Rob was dashing forward alone. The Second Will froze with surprise, delaying its bite for a moment – but only for a moment. Serrated teeth rushed down to meet unprotected skin.

Rampage.

2431 Piercing Damage Received!

Regrow Self Level Increased! 2 → 3

Arachnophobia partially br@#oKeN!

Bulk Up partially br@#oKeN!

In the split-second before his skull and brain would have been mulched into paste, Rob adjusted course backwards with Rampage. Everything above the neck was spared.

The rest of his body, not so much.

Rob's decapitated head giggled as it tumbled through the air. His giggles didn't make any noise without a voice box attached to them, but it was the thought that counted. Always nice when an old strategy works like new. Second Will should've learned from the Dhalerune Blight's screwups.

With another jovial Rampage, he pushed his head forward and bit down on unsuspecting flesh. PURGE CORRUPTION, YOU PIECE OF SHIT.

Several things happened in unison. After a moment of fleeting resistance, one-fourth of his Purging energy was dumped into the Second Will's head. It hadn't completed enough of its Ascension to gain more of a resistance to Purge Corruption. Cleansing energy burnt eldritch flesh, and Rob's body regrew as Lifesteal healed him to full HP.

Finally, it turned out that he'd been wrong – the Second Will had learned from its other self's mistakes. The instant that Rob bit down, it severed the neck connecting its head to the main body, as if it was a lizard detaching its tail to escape. Purge Corruption expunged the head and neck from existence, yet could go no further, leaving the Second Will's main body intact.

It's a start. Rob summoned a change of clothes and some spare anti-Corruption Amulets from Spatial Storage, then quickly looted his old body for the Bracelet of Teleportation and Anklet of Brawn. Fortunately, they hadn't been inside the Second Will's mouth long enough to deteriorate. Wish I could've damaged it more, but that's still a chunk of flesh it won't get back.

For whatever that was worth. Rob examined the Second Will's colossal body, attempting to estimate how much of its mass he'd destroyed. One-fifteenth? One-twentieth? For one-fourth of his Purging energy.

He grimaced. That wasn't a good exchange rate. It was also the best possible trade they could make. Nothing killed Blights faster than Purge Corruption – it just didn't have enough energy to kill the Second Will on its own. Need my allies to chip in, a lot, but they're AWOL right–

Ask, and thou shalt receive. At that moment, the alliance flickered into Rob's perception, once more located hundreds of feet away.

The entire alliance. His eyes widened as he saw that Keira's group and Vul'to's group had reunited. When did they...never mind, not looking a gift horse in the mouth. He scooped up Elder Duran and took off running towards their allies, keeping an eye on the Second Will as he went. The beast had been suspiciously inactive since their last exchange. He wasn't going to question that either. Rob made a beeline for his friends, sprinting as fast as he could.

And made no progress.

"Okay." He rubbed his eyes, squinting. "Is it just me, or are we not getting any closer?"

Duran shook his head. "I see the same. A trick of the Deadlands, presumably." He pulled out his radio and pressed the Talk button. Grating static screeched out, like nails violating a chalkboard. "Oh dear."

On a whim, Rob tried to invite Keira to his Party. She was in eyesight range, so there shouldn't be any issues with that.

Error: Party Invite has been INTERLOPERS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

"What the f–"

Kismet suddenly entered Rob's mind. From what we can surmise, the Second Will is using its influence on the Deadlands to prohibit you from regrouping with your allies.

Great. Rob sighed. I liked it better when the Blights *didn't* use strategy.

The god paused. In truth...any strategic benefits appear to be merely incidental. Its chief desire is to have a bout with you, alone, without interference.

Rob examined the Second Will in more detail. Belatedly, he noticed that its attention wasn't on him, but rather on the rest of the alliance. The creature seem to be regarding them as if they were cockroaches that had resurfaced after being sprayed with heavy-duty insect repellent.

A jolt of dread lanced down Rob's spine. "Pause!" He held out both hands. "PAUSE!"

This time, the Second Will ignored his pleas. Its body split into another cavernous maw, a cloud of miasma building within, aimed directly at the alliance.

DAMNIT. He was too far away to distract it. Vul'to can...no, won't work. Even if the Soul Guardian was in tip-top condition, the two groups reuniting had actually made it impossible for him to protect everyone simultaneously. There were simply too many people to fit inside one Soul Shield.

Just as Rob's dread was transitioning to full-blown terror, he saw Ragnavi rise up into the sky. The Queen had assumed her Draconic form; a thirty-foot long apex predator with wide, beating wings and red scales covering her body. Exorbitant amounts of mana were already gathering in her reptilian jaws. Far less than the absurdity of the Cataclysm or the gods' clash, but still more than he'd witnessed any 'ordinary' Combat Class user conjure on their own.

From afar, he heard her voice as it resounded across the Deadlands. "ANNIHILATION!"

A tremendous beam of energy shot forth. It impacted the Second Will's open mouth before the cloud of miasma had fully coalesced. The creature's form trembled as swathes of flesh were seared away like a sci-fi space laser impacting a giant monster. Gradually, the miasma cloud dissipated, unable to sustain itself under Annihilation's devastating pressure.

The beam faded soon after. Silence reigned for a time, everyone stopping to process what they'd seen.

Rob had to try extra hard not to give Ragnavi props. He doubted that her attack could've taken the miasma head-on, but even preventing it from forming was something that no one else in Elatra could have pulled off.

POWERFUL, the Second Will admitted, usurping silence's short-lived reign. BY MORTAL STANDARDS. POWERFUL NONETHELESS.

"Of course," Ragnavi snapped. "Every person in this world is aware of my strength. From the highest noble, to the lowest pauper, to children just learning to speak, all know that I am above them. You will show me the respect that I am deserved."

From the distance he was at, Rob's Heightened Senses strained to barely make out what she was saying. For once, he was grateful that she had a habit of arrogantly projecting her voice. Otherwise she would've just looked like she was pantomiming frustration at the Second Will. Funny, sure, but not super helpful.

His focus was interrupted as Jason took that moment to contact him with Dimensional Message. <"Hey man,"> Jason began, <"found a possessed human. Looks like evil accountant Santa Claus. Probably a Blight. Got any advice on how to dig info out of it, or can I just have fun fighting–">

"Can't right now." Rob immediately ended the Message. He needed to concentrate on how this conversation between Queen and Abomination was playing out – specifically to see if the Second Will revealed any useful info – and he didn't have the mental capacity to fake being calm for Jason's sake.

I REMEMBER YOU. The Second Will closed its maw. YOU FELLED ONE OF MY PARTITIONS. ON YOUR OWN. THROUGHOUT INFINITE EONS, LESS THAN A DOZEN HAVE ACCOMPLISHED THAT FEAT.

"And it was without Purge Corruption." Ragnavi's boasting was undercut by the exasperation in her tone. "Yet you still aim your fixation at the Human. Tell me, oh Blight of Blights...what makes the Heartkiller so unique? Surely one ability isn't enough to justify this degree of obsession."

Rob wanted to strangle her. That obsession is what's KEEPING US ALIVE, YOU NARCISSISTIC, SELF-ABSORBED–

The Second Will let out a low rumble. PURGE CORRUPTION IS MORE NOTABLE THAT YOU REALIZE. HOWEVER, YOU ARE PARTLY CORRECT. AS A MORTAL WHO ALSO BEARS POWER BESTOWED BY THE GODS' IMPRISONED SOULS, YOUR EXISTENCE IS SOMEWHAT UNIQUE AS WELL.

"Then–"

BUT THAT IS ALL. RAW POWER REPRESENTS NOTHING. The Second Will cackled with a dozen misshapen heads. INSIDE, YOU ARE HOLLOW, LACKING ROB'S CORE OF DETERMINATION.

"I HAVE SLAIN COUNTLESS ENEMIES!' Ragnavi bellowed. She seemed about ready to divebomb the Second Will, despite how obviously ill-advised such an endeavor would be. "MIGHTY FOES HAVE FALLEN BEFORE ME!"

FEW THAT YOU WERE IN DANGER OF PERISHING TO. EVEN NOW, YOU ONLY FACE ME BECAUSE OF YOUR CAPACITY FOR FLIGHT, LETTING YOU FLEE IF THIS BATTLE TURNS GRAVE. HELPLESS PREY IS YOUR PREFERRED QUARRY, AND THAT DISPOSITION IS AS COMMON AS THERE ARE STARS IN THE SKY. THERE IS NO MEANING TO BE GLEANED FROM A PENCHANT FOR LORDING POWER OVER THE WEAK AND DEFENSELESS.

The Second Will paused. When it spoke again, a touch of lucidity had crept into its omnipresent voice. I KNOW THAT WELL.

No one dared respond. After nearly ten seconds, a muted gust of wind emanated from the Second Will, as if it was sighing. WE TIRE OF THIS. YOU SHALL INTERFERE NO MORE.

Its form began to mold and reshape, a massive hole opening at the top of its body. Corrupted energy gathered within, growing at a rate similar to the gods' Beacon before it had unleashed – which was not a comparison that inspired confidence. The alliance members with ranged attacks threw everything they had at the Second Will, to no avail. Ragnavi's Annihilation was on cooldown, and the other Combat Class users just didn't have the oomph to interrupt whatever it was concocting.

Perhaps irritated by their struggles, the Second Will spat out five spheres of Corrupted flesh at them. Most people dodged. Two didn't, reduced to smears of blood and bone. The spheres swiftly mutated into Leader-Level monsters, forcing the alliance to divert their attention to a more immediate threat, even as unstoppable ruination formed not far away.

APART FROM ROB, YOUR WORLD HAS PRODUCED ONE ITEM OF NOTE. The Second Will sounded almost giddy. THIS IS MY TRIBUTE TO ITS GRANDEUR.

An intense orb of energy drifted upwards. It writhed violently, as if something inside was attempting to break free.

Seconds later, it did.

CORRUPTED CATACLYSM.

The orb burst, and blackened rays of light rained down from the sky.

Rob's blood turned to ice.

Quick Thinking Level Increased! 6 → 7

Before fear or panic set in, he killed his emotions. Smothered them until cold analysis was all that remained.

What – if anything – could he do?

Waymark would let him escape. While the Second Will was incomprehensibly strong, it wasn't strong enough to match a nation-wide Soul Burn with only seconds of preparation. This Cataclysm wouldn't encompass all of Elatra. Just the surrounding area, probably.

However, using Waymark would also abandon Riardin's Rangers. Rob was willing to leave behind the rest of the alliance if it saved his friends, but with Party invites being blocked, he couldn't take them with him. And even if the invites went through, Party size limitations meant some people he cared about would be abandoned regardless.

Outside of Waymark...there was nothing. Saving himself would already be a tall order.

Think, you blind idiot. Think. His thoughts raced a mile a minute, the Cataclysm rays seeming to inch down like dripping molasses. What detail are you missing? What can be done? Are you really going to let your friends get decimated when they've come this far? After they averted major casualties twice in a row?

His mind snagged upon that notion. Low casualties so far. How? Second Will should've done more to them. Didn't. Both groups managed to rendezvous without issue. Only lashed out at the alliance when visible...

To him. When visible to him. It ignored them when they weren't aligned with his perception of the Deadlands. Otherwise? Out of sight, out of mind. Maybe the Second Will's attacks never reached them there at all.

Remove the interlopers, and it stops targeting them.

Rob deactivated Illusion Resistance.

"DURAN!" he shouted. "CLOSE YOUR EYES! DON'T THINK ABOUT THE ALLIANCE WHATSOEVER!"

The Elder obeyed his order without question. Rob turned away from his friends, focusing on the Corruptive beams descending from above. He emptied his mind of distractions. It was just him and Duran here. Two allies confronting the Second Will. No one else.

NO ONE ELSE.

Out of the corner of his eye, the people-who-could-not-be-named flickered and disappeared.

Thank Christ, Rob thought – right before a localized apocalypse erupted around him.

He ran. Eldritch laughter assaulted his ears, practically drowned out by the cacophony of Cataclysm rays detonating as they hit the ground. Geysers of dirt flew upwards, the terrain battered into an unrecognizable state. Every moment was a narrow brush with death. Elder Duran hung his head, as if accepting that the end was nigh.

Perhaps he had the right idea.

Rampage. Rob dodged a Cataclysm ray, pulled an MP Potion from Spatial Storage, dodged another ray, then chugged the Potion in record time. Rampage. Rampage. His MP was dwindling. Needed to conserve. Couldn't conserve. One misstep was–

A beam caught him.

He shielded Duran's body with his own. "DAUNTLESS REPRISAL!"

22,411 Damage Reflected!

The Corrupted beam of light flew back from whence it came. Dozens more were eager to take its place.

Two minutes until he could avert instant death again.

Rob threw in the towel. Would have to Waymark to safety, wait out the Cataclysm, then rush back before the Second Will targeted his friends again. He activated–

Waymark has been \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ and placed on a 10-minute cooldown! NO ESCAPE.

Oh.

Blazing mana passed just overhead, singing the tips of his hair.

Run. Dodge. Rampage. Rob was panting, somehow. Stamina still above half. Likely psychological response. Adrenaline, panic, explosions. Sensory overload. Deactivate Heightened Senses. Mild improvement.

A ray of light opened up a small canyon in front of him. Reverse direction. Never stop running.

"DAUNTLESS REPRISAL!"

24,638 Damage Reflected!

Like the Wind. Step of the Wind. Dodge. Rampage.

Quick Thinking Level Increased! 7 → 8

Bracelet of Teleportation used. 5 minute cooldown.

He saw his own headless corpse – the one chomped by the Second Will – erased in a blink.

"DAUNTLESS REPRISAL!"

27,155 Damage Reflected!

Out of MP. No more Rampages.

Keep dodging anyway.

Feet pounding. Ears ringing. Throat dry. Twenty seconds until Dauntless–

He slipped on an uneven piece of ground.

Didn't fall. Also didn't matter. One off-balance moment was enough. Rob covered Duran's body with his own, hoping against hope that his durability would somehow protect the Elder from being instantaneously vaporized.

It took him a few seconds to realize that the Corrupted Cataclysm had finally dissipated.

Rob sank to his knees. Streams of sweat poured down his face. He should have felt relief, but there was nothing there except a bone-deep exhaustion.

Lips trembling, he glanced up at the Second Will. Its mountainous mass quivered with jubilation.

SHOW. ME. MORE.

He tried to retort. To say a one-liner and amp himself up. The words failed to materialize. Show the Second Will what, exactly? He'd only damaged it three times. The creature was ramping up with increasingly powerful attacks as their fight progressed. What was next – fending off ten Leader-Level Blightspawn, an arm strike, a cloud of Corruption, a head bite, and another Cataclysm all at once?

Pointless. An ant couldn't kill an elephant. Just delay the inevitable until getting stepped on.

Rob didn't even have the energy to be annoyed when Kismet intruded upon his mind. We have news, the god said, sounding uncharacteristically dire.

Speak.

My brethren and I have analyzed the Blight. To attain this form and this strength, it has gathered nearly every fragment of its consciousness into one body. There is no external wellspring of mana for it to draw from anymore. While that grants the Blight's current body phenomenal power, it should also prohibit it from growing stronger, in addition to stunting its regenerative capabilities.

Kismet hesitated. Despite that...it is gradually gaining power as time goes on. Furthermore, the non-Purge Corruption injuries you have inflicted are healing far faster than they should.

Rob's vaguely recalled the Second Will's two arm strikes. First one did around 83,000 damage. Latter one did more, around 104,000. Stronger than first. Dauntless Reprisal reflected both – yet from what he could see, the grievous wounds that had caused weren't visible anymore.

He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. Why?

We do not know.

Right.

Rob sighed, the tension fleeing his body. Suppose that's that. It had been a good run, but he'd finally met an unkillable opponent. Some elbow grease and a can-do attitude wasn't going to cut it here. Not when the gods themselves were at a loss for what to do.

With that knowledge, his adrenaline faded. Why wouldn't it? He couldn't win. All hope was dead. The light of a better future had faded to darkness.

There was no point in continuing on.

And yet...

"I'll give you an 'A' for effort."

Rob stood.

"Buuut you'll have to try harder than that." Sporting a plastic grin, he dusted off his pants, using the motion to hide his shaking fingers. "Ready for Round 2. What's next on the docket? Mouth laser beams? Already died to that once before, but I'm a fan of remixes."

Rob stood, and he kept standing. Even if the light of a better future had faded to darkness, as long as there was strength left in his limbs...a heart beating in his chest...spite simmering in his soul...and loved ones smiling in his thoughts...

He would pretend that fading light was as luminous as the sun.

The Second Will's mouths bellowed with laughter. He couldn't tell if it was impressed, amused, or both.

While it was distracted, Rob took the opportunity to activate Dimensional Message and contact Jason. Wasn't sure why. Maybe talking to his best friend would give him some much-needed motivation? Or maybe this was his version of a last will and testament.

Either way, the connection established. "Hey," he began. "You okay? Want to...be sure."

<"About to bully Blight Santa to death,"> Jason replied, seeming mostly cheerful. <"You?">

He could lie to himself just fine, but lying to Jason had always been difficult. "Don't know," Rob admitted. "Second Will – Blight keeps regenerating. Running out of options." A curse slipped out from under his breath. "I'm not sure we can...anyway, it's tough over here."

Jason didn't respond right away. It took him a long time to reply.

When he eventually did, it was in an entirely serious tone of voice.

<"Mind if I help with that?">

--

??? Minutes Prior

The Spire was more and less than what Jason expected.

Rob had warned that it might be like one of those trippy dungeons he'd encountered in the fantasy world. A place where geometry was malleable, distance was a suggestion, and anything could happen at any time. Jason, taking the advice to heart, had prepared his team to tackle a deathtrap maze filled with Blightspawn numbering in the thousands.

They'd both been right. But what he and Rob – and the Dungeon, apparently – had failed to account for was Baker. Because the instant Jason's team stepped inside the Spire's labyrinthine walls, Baker stood at attention, like a bloodhound smelling wounded prey, and pointed towards one specific passage. "That way," the former Blightspawn had stated. "I can detect the patterns of Corruption. All other paths are fatal."

It was surprisingly smooth sailing from then on, to the point where Jason was almost disappointed at the anticlimax. Blightspawn came at him in waves, yet none were stronger than Level 45. Wasn't any worse than what his team faced every day out on the streets. They might've been overwhelmed if they were forced to stop and consider the various branching paths, but Baker's guidance trivialized that risk, always leading them down the safest possible route.

The result was akin to a group of four lawnmowers tearing through a weed patch. Jason sliced apart Blightspawn with ease, not even needing to pull out any fancy moves or footwork. Baker refused to be outdone, matching each of Jason's kills with one of his own. Lucio's incredible strength pummeled whatever creatures slipped past their front lines. In the back line, Jeanette used her gun to snipe at airborne monsters, ensuring that nothing surprised them from above.

Jason couldn't help but grin. Much as he would've enjoyed a challenge, getting to flex his muscles wasn't bad either.

His team stepped through another portal, teleporting them to who knows where. They emerged in another beaching pathway, surrounded by walls of onyx-colored marble illuminated with a faint silver hue. Jason didn't have the slightest idea where the light was coming from, but, eh. He wasn't about to question fantasy world logic.

"Where to next?" he asked Baker. "We any closer to the top?"

The man wearing his face frowned. "Who the hell knows. Dungeons don't conform to human assumptions. Even if this Spire does indeed have a core – or something else of significance – it could be located at the center, or underground instead."

"Nah. You make a big tower, you put the important part at the top. Just how it goes."

"Human, that's what you would do. The Blight–"

"No, no," Jeanette interrupted. "He's got a point."

Baker grumbled uncharitable words under his breath, motioning for them to follow with a surly wave.

Jason chuckled as he readied his greatsword to strike down an approaching Blightspawn. Actually, he realized, I should call Rob and let him know how we're doing. Not like I need to concentrate on killing...is that another goddamn mutated wolf? This place is running out of ideas.

He activated Dimensional Message, then started speaking as soon as the connection had been established. "Checking in. Things are going well over here. You?"

There was a long pause. <"All good,> Rob answered. <We're–"> He paused again. <"Sorry, got another call. Glad things are going well for you.">

The Message ended without warning.

For the first time since he'd entered the Spire, Jason missed a step.

Huh. His thoughts were so preoccupied that he just barely managed to dodge the wolf's bite, its fangs coming inches away from piercing his arm. That's odd. Could've sworn that Rob sounded nervous or something. But...no way. I've heard his stories. He should be basically unbeatable by now, right?

After a few moments, Jason shook his head, gutting the wolf as he regained his balance. Rob was in the middle of a major battle – of course the guy was going to sound a bit nervous. That was normal. Didn't mean he was in trouble. He would've mentioned if things were going south.

Task focus, Jason told himself. Keep your head in the game. Rob is fine. Dude handles every Blight he meets, no problem. There's nothing to be worried about.

He kept telling himself that, over and over, all the way until his team reached the top of the Spire.

The last teleporter deposited them in front of an entrance that looked – for lack of a better word – dramatic. It was a set of broad double doors, ten feet tall and twenty wide, heavy and thick with gleaming marble.

Baker's expression soured the second he laid eyes on it, as if he'd inhaled an entire carton of lemons. "There's something past those doors. It's..." He let out an aggrieved sigh. "Vital. A core, perhaps."

Jason smiled, using his moment of triumph to dispel the anxious cloud hanging above his head. "Told you that–"

"Don't fucking start."

Jeanette ignored them, examining the door. "Looks like there's a lock." She glanced at Lucio. "We don't have time to find the right key, so mind opening it with yours?"

The wrestler nodded, stepping forward to push his scaled fists against the double doors. Muscles tensed, a lock shattered, and the doors effortlessly flung open, scraping on marble floor as they crashed into interior walls of the room that laid beyond.

That's one way to do it, Jason mused, as he led his team through. The top of the Spire housed a spacious chamber – more spacious than it should have been when viewed from the outside. It was completely empty save for two objects of interest. The first was a shimmering black crystal floating in the center, seemingly protected by a translucent shield of magic. With each passing second, the crystal dispersed Corruption particles into the surrounding air.

It was somehow a less strange sight than the person standing patiently behind. At the very end of the chamber was what appeared to be a genial, full-bearded old man, dressed like an accountant. He had a pleasant smile on his face; the kind that belonged to everyone's favorite grandpa. If not for his mottled skin, pulsating veins, and vacant eyes, Jason would've been tempted to wave.

"Greetings," the old man said, bowing. "Quite the busy bees you are. Arrived much sooner than anticipated."

Jeanette immediately raised her gun. Before she could fire, Jason held up a hand to forestall her. According to Rob, it was smart to let the Blights monologue when they got in a talkative mood. Whatever information they offered tended to be priceless.

Besides – it's been a while since I fought someone who could talk back. "Hey, sorry for the door. That's my bad." Jason cracked his neck. "Although you don't seem sorry about what you've done to our planet, so I'm not feeling overly polite." His hand inched towards his sword, and he began jumping in place to warm up. "Hair's looking a bit white there, gramps. Time for a dye job."

In a flash, his greatsword shot forward, its blunt tip of massive steel glaring at the old man. "Red would look great on you."

The Blight-possessed human laughed. "Isn't humor such a wonderful thing? Would have never understood your meaning before subsuming this human's mind. We've neglected the intricacies of thought that mortals are capable of."

His smile widened farther than what was physically possible, skin ripping at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps the next world shall be treated with a lighter touch."

Jason didn't take the bait. Blights being creepy sadistic weirdos was nothing new. Instead, he activated Dimensional Message to contact Rob. "Hey man, found a possessed human. Looks like evil accountant Santa Claus. Probably a Blight. Got any advice on how to dig info out of it, or can I just have fun fighting–"

<"Can't right now.">

Rob immediately ended the call.

At once, Jason's blood froze. This wasn't him imagining things. Rob's tone had been more urgent than simply being preoccupied with a battle. He'd sounded...

Desperate.

Jason considered calling Rob back, then decided against it, not wanting to distract him in case he – just in case. Task. Focus. Interrogate the Blight. That's what will help him.

Without knowing how to question the old man, he improvised. Vague banter usually got people talking. "Gotta say – for an eldritch grandpa, your decor isn't total shit." Jason gestured around the chamber. "Don't think I'd like, bring a girl here or anything, but you've got a vibe going on."

The man's smile dipped slightly. "You should have savored the Dungeon I prepared," he said, almost sounding annoyed. "This mortal believes that all humans enjoy mazes and challenges. Why did you circumvent them?"

"The thing about challenges," Jason said, holding up his index finger, "is that they have to actually be challenging. I'm not gonna go easy on you, that's not how this works." He smirked. "Seriously though, interesting decor. What's up with the disco ball? We having a dance-off next?"

He pointed at the floating black crystal. The old man's vacant gaze lit up with excitement, as if he couldn't wait to spill a morsel of juicy gossip. "It is a marvelous invention, isn't it?" he began. "Your world was a conundrum at first. With no mana to consume, we were at a loss for how to harvest energy. Devouring mortals only produced a fraction of bioelectricity, and nothing more."

The man gestured straight down. "Your planet, however, is bountiful. We could harvest its core for decades and still continue to sup."

Jason blinked. "The Spires are sucking energy from the Earth's goddamn core?"

"How else are we to support our main body in Elatra? Hyper-compressed metal doesn't yield as much energy as mana, but it will suffice. In fact, we gained the idea from humanity – removing finite materials from your own home has ever been a favorite mortal pastime."

His eyes shone with irritation. "Originally, to facilitate a hastened retrieval of energy, temporal acceleration was enforced upon this structure. Time passed faster inside here than the reality outside. It proved to be remarkably efficient...until your dimensional correspondence with Elatra set its chromatic sync off-balance. Now time flows without rhyme or reason. Would you mind refraining from such behavior moving forward?"

Only one sentence out of all that actually mattered to Jason. Support the main body. "You're making Rob's Blight stronger," he marveled, several puzzle pieces sliding into place.

"It would be remiss not to utilize all the resources in our employ. The Heartkiller deserves no less."

Before Jason could respond, the old man spread his arms. "My thanks for indulging in this frivolity. For some reason, pre-battle banter is excellent at prompting adrenaline to course through mortal veins."

His flesh bubbled, limbs swelling into distended, bloated appendages. "Yet I have grown bored, and your souls are so very ripe."

Jason's team readied their weapons. This was it. Winning here would permanently weaken the Blight. They'd finally get to go on the offensive – not just defending civilians from random monster attacks. Exactly the way I like it. Let's make this a fight to remember.

He was about to fire off some prime trash talk when Dimensional Message activated.

<"Hey."> Rob sounded exhausted, both physically and mentally. <"You okay? Want to...be sure.">

Jason's grip on his sword tightened. "About to bully Blight Santa to death. You?"

Rob was quiet for three eternally long seconds.

<"Don't know,"> he admitted. <"Second Will – Blight keeps regenerating. Running out of options."> A curse slipped out, barely audible. <"I'm not sure we can...anyway, it's tough over here.">

In that instant, the enormity of what was happening slammed into Jason's psyche. It forced him to understand things he'd already known yet refused to accept. He was vaguely aware of his teammates staring at him in confusion as unfiltered shock spread to every inch of his body.

Rob's words kept ringing inside his mind. While the guy hadn't finished what he was about to say, it wasn't hard to figure out.

'I'm not sure we can win.'

"Mind if I help with that?" Jason asked. His reply came from pure instinct, before his thoughts had even recovered. It was what Rob needed to hear – and so, he said it.

<"What? How?">

The faint hope in Rob's voice indicated to Jason that he'd done the right thing. "My Blight said the Spire is powering up the Blight you're fighting in Elatra. We also found a crystal core thing at the top – you get what I'm saying, right? If we break the core, we probably break the Spire. Should weaken the Blight on your end."

<"...Shit, man, that would..."> Rob hesitated. <"Be careful. No stupid heroics on my account – if you need to retreat, then run like hell. Blights are harder to kill than you're imagining.">

Yeah. I can tell. The old man had nearly finished his grotesque transformation, little remaining of the human he was once. More than his hulking muscles, razor-sharp claws, and wide mouth of red-rimmed teeth, it was the Blight's aura of intense pressure that gave Jason pause. This was clearly a far stronger creature than any Blightspawn they'd fought before. Stronger than even Valmight.

If Jason was being honest with himself...he wasn't sure they could win this, either.

He accepted that fact – and then raised his sword. Whether his opponent was a god, the devil, or anything in-between, his chosen path would stay the same. It had been decided the moment he'd realized Rob needed him to take this thing down.

That was all Jason needed to know.

"Don't worry." He grit his teeth. "You've always had my back, man. Saved me so many times...even before gods and Blights started appearing. So just for today–"

The monster inside surged within his veins, blighted scales overlaying on top of human skin.

"Let me be your hero." Jason dashed forward, sword in hand, and cried out, "BLIGHT–INS–TALL!"

--

Thanks for reading!