Savage Awakening 261. The Wyrm-King (III) (Patreon)

The Mages of the Scryer's Guild kept an eye on every one of the Nine Great Factions. Tracking every breakthrough made by the Dragonspire Galaxy’s most promising talents. Recording the result of every fight, updating the rankings in real-time.

The Guild also kept an eye on prospects in the Superdungeon, but they were usually too unproven to matter. They’d hardly begun their cultivation journeys, after all. 

It was rare they would make the rankings, which only went to the Top 200.  Occasionally though, a few extraordinary talents would manage it.

This cycle, to the shock of many an Elder across the Galaxy, several from a little Ur-Planet named Earth made the list.

Call it up on the scrying glass, and you’d see a few new faces. At #198, there was one Avery Lively. At #176, Emeka Eze. And at #172, Vanessa Volkova. And #138, Evan Armstrong.

The lower the rankings, the rarer the surprises—the Top 100 usually only shifted a few ranks each year, all the same names. Nearly all Core Disciples, with the occasional Inner Faction Disciple sprinkled in. 

It had been millennia since the Top 100 had last admitted a pre-Integration fighter.

Until today. Up at #39—Reina’s face shone on the list. 

This would set off many a heated debate across the Nine Great Factions, in teahouses and ruling councils alike. It was simply unheard of. 

Many a Chosen who had been long waiting their turn on the list—many a Chosen who had been bumped down a spot—were outraged. To say nothing of the powerful families that backed them.

But it was nothing in comparison to the final man who made the list.

At #3—the Prince of True Dragons, Haxorax, Core Disciple of the Azure Flame Faction. Horned face staring proud through the portrait.

#2—the Moon Reaper Lain, Core Disciple of the Guild of Endless Shadows. Eyes narrowed at the portrait behind a half-moon mask. 

Both had racked up a mind-boggling number of B-rank Dungeon Clears and Monster King scalps in their few centuries of living. Both were well on their ways to becoming living legends. 

But the new #1, bumping them down—a spot occupied for the first time in living memory by a pre-Integration fighter— 

An earth-man named Zane Walker. Scratching his head, as though a little befuddled he was up so high. 

*** 

That was merely a freeze-frame shot caught by the scrying glass. 

Zane, of course, was not aware of just what a ruckus he was making in the wider galaxy. He was busy finishing off the creature once known as Moraxes.

He smashed a fist through its skull, pumping in reams of Stormfire. And its head shattered, erupting in gobs of essence-bone and ectoplasm, smoking up in tongues of brilliant purple…

It slumped for the last time.

Its chunky body began to dissolve.

Panting, he looked at his hands. At all the gunky essence soaking them through. His whole body was still pumping with power, still running white-hot. He looked around, blinking. Wondering if there were more things to smash.

Skill up! 

Stormfire Fist II -> III 

But there was nothing. 

He frowned. 

Was that it?

…He was almost a little disappointed.

Oh well. He started ambling back to his friends. 

Then paused. Frowning deeper. 

Where were the Level-ups? The clearance notification? 

Something was up here. 

Avery cried out, “Look out!”

Zane turned.

A ghost flickered up at the end of the cavern, quickly turning real. The image of Moraxes burgeoning into flesh, quickly solidifying… but it was no illusion. That same False Ascendant aura blasted out from it—whole and hearty.

The beast screeched.

Zane frowned. 

It just respawned.

He scratched his head. 

Then shrugged. 

He supposed he could just bash it in again. It wasn't too hard that first time.

Reina gasped behind him. She seemed to have a realization.

“This place,” she said to him, eyes wide. “It’s the base of its power!”

Zane blinked, then focused in on it. Really paid attention to that spawn-point. Rivers of essence were streaming up from the ground, down from the ceiling, the walls—gathering there, feeding into it, making it whole…

Reina pointed to the curving white pillars sticking out of the ground, curving into the roof. 

“They’re a ribcage,” she said. And at the hissing pools littering the place. That was stomach acid, she said. The walls had this fleshy look to them because they were flesh.

They were fighting a Remnant. They were inside Moraxes’ corpse. And it was still drawing power from the place.

A pause.

“Gross!” cried Avery.

“We’re going to have to destroy its whole body,” said Reina, looking serious. “The source of its power. If we want to take it out—”

Moraxes screeched. And now it had fully formed, fully solidified; it was launching itself at them again—

Zane made a snap decision.

“I will hold it off,” Zane told them. “You three go destroy the body.”

There was no time to question it. His friends just nodded, and went for it.

They all trusted he had this.

Zane clenched his fists. And waded straight back into the fray.

It was a very messy, bloody, exploding next few minutes.

Lots of roaring, smashing, slashing, tearing, biting. At one point Zane had two hands pressed against its clamping jaws, forcing it wide open, feeling those rippling jaw-muscles slowly ripping under the strength of his arms. Sinking an Axe down its throat, ramming in a string of explosions—

It choked. Slammed him against the wall with enough force to bring down a mountain, head-first. Doused his face with in a tide of corruption. He grunted, a bit dazed. 

It sank giant teeth into his belly. He snarled, bashing furiously, forcing it back off him. Back and forth they went, Zane wrestling with this False Ascendant beast, throwing it against the wall, wrecking it chunk by chunk; it ramming Zane against the ground with a Monstrous strength, trying to drown him in that acid domain—

Explosions rattled down the length of the place. Both of them were burning up. One in Stormfire, one in Withering—taking off big chunks of each other with each vicious outburst. 

Warning! 

Health under 75%

Zane took his Chains, wrapped them around the beast's throat, down its fleshy body. A second serpent coiling around the first—and dropped his Anchor of Gods Skill. Even as he wrestled the great beast down.

The beast CLANG’D against the ground—and sank deep into its own corpse. Shrieking. Suddenly it could barely move. Held down by what felt to it like an immovable, infinite weight… 

Its fangs kept ripping into him. Even as Zane squeezed on a Prometheus Noose. 

Warning! 

Health under 50%

He could feel the Withering taking its toll. But he could also see his Chain sinking through that fat neck, severing the chunks of its freight-train spine, melting through vital nerves, seeing its eyes pop, even as he felt his whole body going numb, the lower half of him fading out as those black Laws sank their claws deep into him—

Warning! 

Health under 25%

Almost at the same time, Zane gave a final roar. Squeezed with all his might. And his Chains melted through the last of its spine. 

Its great head popped off its body, choking, hissing, then lolling… and the whole thing went still.

Skill up!

Prometheus Noose II -> III 

And Zane defeated the Monster for the second time.

He lay there flat on his back, breathing heavy, steaming with Withering powers. He blinked, sat up, and found half his left arm had shrunken. Gone black. The whole lower half of his torso. One of his quads looked shriveled and rotted. He was having quite a bit of trouble moving. A stabbing hot pain was flaring up all over his muscles, fiercer and fiercer…

He blinked.

It was always a little surprising how much he could ignore. He could put aside a lot in the heat of the moment. But once it was over, he started feeling the weight of the damage—and it was quite a heavy thing. Even for him. He grunted, tried working up his knees…

Reina was with him in a flash. She had dashed over, got him in a tight embrace, put soft healing hands on his most ruined parts, brow furrowed—and his dead tissues were going flush again, coming alive at startling speed….

“I’m here,” she assured him. Zane nodded.

As that Moraxes flickered up again on the other side, rebuilding. Zane was too. 

Reina’s healing worked doubly strong with him—it not only worked the withered places, clearing out those lingering Laws, healing the flesh. It also strengthened Zane’s own powers. Made the tiny flames of Stormfire burning at each wound, burning in new thick strands of muscle, flare fiercer… 

Zane looked around, taking stock of the scene. 

Most of those rib-pillars had shattered, toppled over. They weren't glowing anymore. Their power had been broken. Evan was still busy poking big holes up the beast’s midsection—the ceiling was rife with them now. Pillars of light streamed down through. The whole thing—walls to floor—was shivering slightly, now that Zane looked at it. Fissures snaking down its length, scars in the skin. 

Big chunks of the place had gone dead. Reina said her healing powers were like an antidote to it—when she threw them at the beast’s Withering powers, they dimmed.

Avery came over in the meantime.

“I'm better off helping here,” she announced. She squinted at her umbrella. She was not making much progress destroying things. Apparently umbrellas were bad at destroying. She looked a little miffed about it. 

Zane nodded. 

He was nearly at 75% by the time Moraxes came by for round three. This time, Reina stayed behind and supported him, just in case. Avery was there too, baffling it with stunners. Zane clenched his fists, set his jaw, waded back in. And did his thing. 

In Zane’s opinion, it would not have stood much of a chance against him regardless. But with the three of them together…it was not close. 

Zane’s feet still feeling good by the time he finished wrecking it. 

“How’s it going,” he said to Evan. 

“Almost done!” Evan cried. 

Almost all those big ribs were knocked down by then. Moraxes’ corpse was riddled with craters. 

Zane eyeballed Moraxes as it respawned. He figured he had some time to help out. 

He took out his hammers and started smashing too. 

He blasted great big holes in the ceiling, toppled those last few ribs. The Wyrm-King howled—but it was still respawning; there was little it could do. Zane could sense the connection to its corpse weakening—could sense the corpse weakening as a whole, the Law, the essence fading from its tissues, going darker the more he wrecked. 

He sent a Stormfire Smash rippling down its belly, chaining explosions. Each one left a smoking blackened maw. Another Smash and the whole place began to shake violently; big chunks of that sickly flesh-ceiling started to bow in, break off… 

The ghost of Moraxes flickered. 

Zane got a very bad feeling all of a sudden. Like it was all going to blow. 

He scooped up Reina in one arm, who made a little surprised noise. Scooped up Avery in another, who yelped. Dashed for Evan, who gave a squeak. And smothered them all in a big hug. 

It did not actually blow, as it turned out. Lots of flesh crashed down—sagged—dissolved. And the corpse cracked open. Tearing up at its rotten seams, bowing out. Fading away....

Zane blinked. Looked up. Warm winds touched his face. Two suns shone high above. Around him stretched desert sands, on and on—a few cacti lay here and there, some bones, but that was all. 

Gently, he let his friends go. Looked around. Was it…? 

Sure enough— 

The Remnant of the Wyrm-King has been defeated! 

The final floor has been cleared. 

Superdungeon run complete!