Savage Awakening 310. Training Montage (II) (Patreon)

A/N: Added:

“Cranky little thing. But it tends the pond well, maintains the Tears of Boreas. You’ve just got to make it respect you—then it’ll leave you be.” 

Also—changed it so the Growth stimulus % are cumulative, covering Zane’s entire body! Before, it referred to how stimulated each individual muscle group was. 

//

Those teeth were honed to fine points of tempered bone, a forest of gleaming spikes packed dense with Tier 5 Ice Laws. The Permafrost Serpent’s domain froze the waters around them even as it surged for the surface—that was no basic Tier 5 domain. It was rife with a vicious Concept.  

It was the strongest beast Zane had ever faced. 

He wasn't quite sure where to go at that moment. He was caught a bit off guard, in an awkward spot. Usually there was at least something to hold onto to steady himself.

Before he could figure much of anything out, the thing was upon him, jaw unhinging—

He just braced himself. He figured he’d take it head-on. After these last few weeks he trusted his body more than ever. 

The last thing he heard before they clamped down was the Barbarian Sage’s yell. “Those jaws are where it’s most dangerous! Beat the jaws, and you beat the beast!” 

Then all those teeth clamped down on Zane, seething frostbite essence, bearing down with the full heft of its Frost Dragon Bloodline power—

CRUNCH.

At first Zane thought they’d sunk deep into his forearms—shredding him just like Kakorax’s claws had done. This thing struck even harder. 

Then he saw the icicle-like chips floating away from him, and realized.

Every single tempered bone tooth had shattered on the spot against his muscles.

He held each jaw open with an arm. And though it thrashed, and clamped, and screeched bloody murder, it couldn’t budge him an inch.

He inspected his arms. The teeth had barely broken his skin—drawn little lines of blood. That was all. They couldn’t penetrate his muscle. 

A hundred Levels on him and a full Tier of Law. All for a few scratches. 

He wasn't sure how strong his body was, but it had to be close to a peak Sky-grade treasure. He could be as durable as his Chains.

Even he was surprised as he held down the thrashing snake. Felt the force of its writhing and thrashing go into his muscles and dissipate, crushed utterly. 

“You’re stronger than you know,” chuckled the Sage. “Right—teach it a lesson!” 

Zane smacked a fist on its nose. He didn’t think he’d swung too hard—then he heard the BOOM of force, saw white waters spewing out of the pond with the aftershock—saw the Serpent’s snout flatten to eye level. 

It shrieked and bolted. Scurried into the depths and was gone. 

The Barbarian Sage watched it go, amused. “Well done! Looks like ordinary early Minor Gods aren’t much trouble anymore,” said the Sage. “That’s a hell of a feat, lad, jumping a full power level like that. The gaps in power only get bigger and bigger as you go up. Scale widens fast, especially as you get into Spirit Weapon grafting…it gets hellish hard to keep up from below. Thalgrim Titanborn himself was known to beat some Minor Gods at early Ascendant. By the time he got to peak Minor God, even he could only fight up a half-level…”  

The Barbarian Sage patted Zane on the back. “You’ll do damned well just to keep this up!” 

 Zane nodded. 

He wasn’t much concerned with what this Thalgrim fellow could do. Maybe it would get harder to keep fighting up. 

That’d never stopped Zane. 

One term there stuck out at him—the thing the Sage said would be hard to beat. “That Spirit Weapon graft,” said Zane. “That’s what the elf Ancestor did.” 

“Right. Big boost in power. Tough to overcome if you’ve not got one yourself…but we’ll get you one. All in due time, lad. All in due time.” 

The Sage rubbed his hands. “For now, let’s eat!” 

*** 

After Zane toweled off, the Barbarian Sage set up camp, as he often did in the wilderness. He had some hide tents and a bonfire out in a jiffy. Within minutes, giant legs of meat were roasting over the spit.

Zane brought his own little contribution—a kit that Evan had gifted him. He introduced the barbarian sage to the concept of s’mores.

“Nine Hells,” said the Sage through a mouthful. He was wide-eyed. He inspected the chocolate and marshmallow and granola contraption melting in his hand like it was a miracle of modern science. “What’ll they think of next, eh?”

They munched in silence for a bit staring at the flames. Just listening to the distant howling of the wolves and the wind, watching the Auroras in the sky lighting up distant mountain peaks, where the silhouettes of giant yetis wrestled for dominance…

“I remember many a dinner like this,” said the Sage. “Back when I was your Level, making good use of this pond. Never thought there’d be someone else on this path, truth be told…”

He sighed. The fire lit up crow's feet in his face. “Most Primordial-grade Godbeast Bloodlines are damned hard to take in as it is… then there’s the Titan Rhino! Takes a hell of a physical base just to get started. And you’ve got to be able to take loads of pain and effort after that… Takes someone a little nuts to go through with it, truth be told. For a while I figured no one would.” 

The Barbarian Sage had a wistful look in his eyes. Zane sensed an unusual seriousness in him, and put down his s’more.

“There aren’t many Titan Rhinos out there you know,” sighed the Sage. “They’re proud, noble beasts. Some of the strongest creatures in the Galaxy—don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, lad! It’s also why they’re so feared—the Monsters make a mission of attacking ‘em, especially young. They were rarer than mithril before. And there’s fewer of ‘em each year… I do my best to help protect ‘em, but it gets harder each year. For a while I thought if I croaked, my path would go with me. Maybe the Rhinos themselves. That’s a hell of a thing to carry alone, eh?” 

Another stretch of silence.

Then he patted Zane on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, lad.”

***  

Weeks passed like this.

On Planet Press—known as Planet Thomon to the locals, which meant ‘Worldshaker’—the nomadic tribes saw the earthquakes getting more intense.

The deity under the earth was growing stronger. 

Most of the folk here were at Foundation; their strongest Chiefs were Core, and it’d taken them centuries to get there. For them, just blowing up a boulder was a feat of great strength. Some still had trouble believing it was one man down there moving the mountains. 

But their shamans saw the signs. There were tales from their ancestors—the continents shaking one by one, in turn, as the Barbarian Deity strengthened himself in the bowels of the realm…

Soon they would have to move from their continent. By how fast these earthquakes were going this new deity was progressing even faster. 

They began to migrate west, crossing the Frostfang Range and took to their boats in their thousands. Sailing to new lands. 

Sure enough—not long after they set sail, they saw the distant mountains begin to shiver, dipping a few feet, then rising…

The wizened little shaman of the Quartz Tribe told the young Prince Quartz that if he listened close to the evening winds, you could hear the Barbarian Sage himself bellowing encouragement.

“That young deity will soon become a protector not only of our planet but of the Great Faction beyond,” said the shaman, voice all hazy, rheumy watery eyes staring into the far distance where the seas kept shaking. He cast out a trembling hand. “A super-power like this realm has seldom seen… This is a rare chance, my prince. You would do well to pay attention.” 

Prince Quartz rolled his eyes. 

He brushed wild dark locks out of his face. He was a skinny, vain, pretty-looking youth. The best martial talent in the land, but he spent his days smoking in the gambling dens or dallying with his girlfriends. 

The shaman sighed. 

Then one night as the Prince stood on the prow of their ship, half-drunk on cheap spirits, the sea started splitting apart.

The sailors shouted, turning the ship side-on—this happened sometimes.

The deity was changing tectonic plates.

It caused a great furor. All over their fleets, folk rushed to the decks to see. 

Then a man rose from the depths of the oceans. Half-naked, fully pumped, a halo of heat glowing off his skin… the molten light from below showed off his physique quite well. He stood there for a moment, gazing into the distance. 

Prince Quartz’s jaw dropped. His wine bottle slipped from his fingers, forgotten. 

Then the man turned and noticed them.

Zane waved. “Hello there.”

They were too stunned to wave back. 

“This is not the jungle continent,” he said, looking around. 

“No,” croaked Prince Quartz. 

“Hm,” said Zane. A pause. “Wrong plate.” 

He left. The tectonic plates sealed back up behind him. 

That very evening, Prince Quartz started lifting weights. 

One day he would rise to become the strongest man on Thomon—a legend in his own right, strong enough to join the Conclave proper. He would even get to meet his inspiration again… 

But that was a story for another time. 

*** 

In those weeks, Zane went back to Earth just a few times—mostly to meet up with Reina on the weekends, which served as a nice break.

Level up! 

Level up!

Level up!

Level up!

Essence Level 406 -> 410

Otherwise, he had a single-minded focus.

Every day, he wrecked himself in the crucible the Barbarian Sage had made for him—and slowly but surely, his physical powers rose…

Level up!

Titan Body, First Form II -> III

A few weeks in, and he moved on from the 1P moon to the 2P moon on Planet Pull.

On Planet Press, he moved from the Sea of Wrath to the Jungle Crescent, which weighed 2.4P.

On Planet Explosion, he got his time to sub-4 seconds—every step exploded a crater into the dense-packed sands.

And on Planet Temper, he managed to get a full 600 feet in. So deep he was nearing the point where he'd need to start wading into the hyper-dense magma pools down there to progress…

And all that time the Barbarian Sage cheered Zane on, and helped spot him—but also watched him. He was curious to see how his new charge would handle quite possibly the most brutal workout routine devised by man. For some folk, the more you threw at them the more they wore down… but the Barbarian Sage had a good feeling.

Sure enough, every new day, Zane came in more fired up. 

***

By the end of the month—

Level up!  

Titan Body, First Form III -> IV 

By the time a month and a half passed, he’d gotten his Levels up to 422. 

His three new Titan’s Body Levels were a massive leap in physical strength. Zane was feeling more confident than ever in his body. 

The Barbarian Sage must’ve thought something similar.

“Remember when I said there were some… things… I checked were still chained when you first came?” said the Sage over dinner one night. “Things I caught for your training?” 

Zane finished a mouthful of bloody leg, gulped it down, and nodded.

“Well,” said the Barbarian Sage, cracking his knuckles. He grinned. “It’s time.”