Savage Awakening 316. The Gauntlet (I) (Patreon)

“That tip right there? That's made of the horn of the Titan Rhino,” said the Barbarian Sage proudly. “Beauty, ain't she?”

Zane nodded. His eyes never left it. 

“Sacred Bones spike the powers of Spirit Weapons too! Some Skills, they make a hell of a lot stronger. Although…” the Barbarian Sage chuckled. “Can’t show you here, unfortunately. Last time I wielded her around these parts was when that A-Tier dungeon  ‘Ghoul Graveyard’ broke—blew a hole in the fabric of reality that took ages to patch up! Ol’ Steel-arm—that’s the Patriarch—he gave a good tongue-lashing for that…”

He chuckled at the memory. “There’s not many Safe Zones graded to take Empyrean-level attacks. Not these Outskirts, that’s for sure.” 

Zane saw a faint edge of distortion running over that spear shard. The colors of the world blurred to a waterfall around it. But more—the Bloodline hidden in there…he sensed its presence, the way you sense the sea by hearing distant waves crashing to shore. It felt like that shard was a portal hiding some new dimension of power, and all he could sense was the little that leaked out… 

Powerful. 

It called out to him. Made his mouth go a bit dry. 

The Sage put his spear away. Finished up the last of his turkey leg.

“Right!” he said, and slapped his hands together. He stood. “Back to training, eh?”

Zane nodded.

The image of that shard was seared in his mind, though. 

The Sage saw the look in Zane’s eye, and gave a little knowing smile. He patted Zane on the back.

“Don’t you worry, lad. One day soon, we’ll get you one of your own.” 

*** 

Push. Pull. Explosion. Temper. 

Zane hopped back and forth between the moons, day and night, putting his body through a crucible of obscene physical stresses. He kept munching his Sky-grade treasures. And slowly, steadily, he grew stronger.

Weeks passed like this. 

Soon the steel pits ran empty. But the Barbarian Sage went out into deep space storage and came back with rings stacked full of medium Sky-grade steels. Golds, platinums, silvers, making little mountains on each moon for Zane to devour.

“Each of these’s worth a kingdom on an E-ranked planet, y’know,” said the Sage cheerfully.

Reina was happy to supply the elixirs when they ran low. She was also happy to help him Level on the weekends, and spent many an afternoon massaging him into a strong recovery too with her Laws, chatting amiably as she did. He was grateful.

Level up! 

Level up! 

Level up!

Essence Level 429 -> 432

There were extra activities too.

Some afternoons saw Zane deep in the planet’s valleys, gripping a rope as thick as the chains that anchored cruise ships. Playing tug-of-war with the Barbarian Sage’s Blizzard Direwolf Bigtooth.

Other times Zane sat under icy waterfalls on the planet’s north pole—natural healing treasures. Letting the essence-rich, freezing glacier water steam off his sore muscles, and renew them…

Skill up! 

Titan’s Body, First Form 6 -> 7

His Levels grew too, week after week. 

Level up! 

Level up! 

…. 

Level up! 

Essence Level 432 -> 438 

***

One night around a campfire, somewhere deep in the Long-Forgotten Forest, Zane scratched Fluffy behind one of her many ears. 

There was a moment of quiet. All they heard was the howling of distant horrible creatures—it was like crickets chirping after a while. Zane found it strangely soothing now. 

“Did I ever tell you how I found her?” said the Sage. He was lying back on a grassy knoll, hands crossed under his head, looking at the stars. 

“Don’t think so,” said Zane through a mouthful of greasy meat. Today’s meal was dragon liver—tasted a bit like chicken. 

“It was ages ago—a little after I first built this place…” The Sage’s eyes grew a bit misty, distant. “I was taking a stroll through one of the Frontier Zones when I saw her. She’d been wandering empty space all alone—her tribe cast her out. All ‘cause they thought she looked a little weird… turns out, Nightmaw Serpents are a lot like men in that way.”

Fluffy made a sad screech, and dipped her head low.

“Even worse—” the Barbarian Sage sat up, gritted his teeth. “A few Conclave brats found her out there. They’d gone on a Monster extermination trip, see, and they were hurting her just for the fun of it! She’s not a damned Monster—she never bothered anyone. You know her—she’d never hurt a fly.”

Zane nodded. 

“They called her all kinds of names. They didn’t like the look of her either.” The Sage clenched his fist. “You should’ve seen the state I found her in… those bastards!”

He looked furious just thinking about it. Then he sighed, and the heat went out of him. 

“Back then,” he said. “I was an outcast of the Conclave too. The uppity freak making his own weird Titan Rhino path. And I thought—well, us two weirdos, maybe we can stick together.”

He patted Fluffy’s head. His smile was gentle. “Raised her since she was just a wee Core. Now look at her,” he said proudly. Fluffy let out a happy screech.

“All these years…” He was getting a little teary-eyed. “Can’t count how many times she’s saved my life many a time out in those Desolate Wastes…. She’s loyal as they come. Just goes to show, eh?” 

*** 

Another month passed like this.

One day, on planet push, there was a roar like a volcano erupting. A sound of all-out, maximum effort, ripped out of one man…

“Up!” roared the Sage. “You’ve got it, lad—finish it!”

And a mountain-stuffed land mass wobbled its way up—until it stabilized again, locked out, briny seas sloshing over its surface…. 

“Hells yes!”

Zane had just set a new one-rep-max on the 8P plate.

*** 

Evan had made some good progress on his journey too—he sent Zane a letter, which arrived via a bedraggled owl.

The Quest had given Evan a magic map. It followed a winding path, crossing a few checkpoints and landmarks, before ending at Thorgon’s castle. Evan had already finished off his first checkpoint—saving a planet from some of the Dark Lord’s hench-Monsters. They’d even tried to trick him by claiming they were just common merchants. But Evan was proud to say that after Avery’s training, he saw through the ruse. 

Those hench-Monsters had a few humans in cages, and horns sticking out of their heads, so it wasn’t the hardest thing to see through. But Evan was happy anyway. 

Now Evan was quite optimistic, if a bit nervous. He was coming up on the region ruled by Malachor the Wicked now—the first ‘Boss’ in his path.

Evan sent Zane a few local delicacies, the planet folk gave him as thanks. And also a picture of Malachor. Zane considered it as he munched on a jelly-stuffed cookie.

He also sent Zane a little coin with Malachor’s face on it. The fellow was a wizard with a scraggly beard that nearly reached his toes.

Evan wrote he would do his best.

Zane considered it with a frown. He wrote back and said if Evan was ever in any trouble he should tell Zane right away. He would go over then and there, and he meant it. 

*** 

In the meantime, he’d worked his way up to Level 446.

Soon winter turned to spring. Trees started greening all over the planet—glaciers receded over some of the northern peaks. You saw a few massive birds popping up, chittering about, making the Barbarian Sage get up cranky in the mornings to shoo them off. 

One morning—

“Your hard winter's training’s almost over,” said the Sage, arms folded. “It’s been a grueling few months, eh?” 

Zane nodded. 

“But it’s paid off better than I could’ve hoped.” There was a great deal of pride in his voice. “We’re getting to the second checkpoint of your training. Time to see what you can do—and I don’t mean just your physical strength… I mean all your powers. Everything. These next few days, we'll put you through the gauntlet.”

He grinned. “Ready to give it your all?” 

Zane was more than ready. “Let’s do this,” said Zane.  

***

A few hours later…  

Mount Hoarfrost.

The Ursa King choked.

A thick chain wound around its throat. Two more lashed its arms, tying its legs—and though it roared, and bucked, and thrashed, calling on all the powers of its ancestors.

But they failed the King. 

To its shock, thrash and buck as it might, it just couldn’t break the hold of the man standing before it. 

There Zane stood—sporting a bloody gash on his head, and another down his heaving chest. It’d only managed to batter him a few times before he had it locked down. 

And once he had it, he had no intention of letting go. 

Zane snarled. And set his chains on Stormfire. 

A blaze of purple and white raged down the steel for the first time in ages as it constricted deeper and deeper, cracking the ice, melting past the fur, sinking deep into that dense corded muscle and consuming all it found—the essence, the Bloodline, even the light of the Bone…

The Ursa King’s eyes bulged as it howled. 

Zane stomped—and lifted. Wrenched the beast thirty, forty feet in the air, until it was a thrashing, burning pyre—and slammed it with all his strength, straight down onto the mountain peak.

The force of it nearly split the mountain in two. Sent cracks tearing the steel all the way to the base. Flattened the peak like a tin can—leaving a plateau where it once was.

When the rumbling stopped, and the smoke cleared, it showed the splayed-out remains of the beast.

Bones shattered by the impact. Muscles melting. Jaw open in a silent howl, eyes rolled all the way back so only the whites were showing…

The King had been crushed.

And Zane claimed his first victory.

*** 

That night, around the campfire—

“Well done, lad!” said the Sage. “So how’s it feel?” 

Zane was pleased too. This time—unlike the first—he felt like the stronger one when he and the King clashed. 

“Strong,” said Zane, looking at his hands. “But I had more to give.” 

“That just means we’ve got to find you a harder fight, eh? Don’t you worry. I’ve got just the thing.” 

The Sage set down his bone. “Ah—right! An old friend’s coming over for a visit tomorrow. Sage Summersteel. He and I took down that Stardrowned Leviathan Monster King together a few millennia ago. Those were the times…well, anyway. He’s bringing a disciple of his. One of the strongest Minor Gods in the Faction, if I recall—you mind if they stay for your next fight?” 

Zane didn’t mind.

*** 

“So this is Zane!” chortled Sage Summersteel. He was a portly fellow, gone a bit to fat, with reddish cheeks and crow’s feet about the eyes from years of smiling. Thick in a strong way. He had a thick beard corded with gold rings. 

“Lovely to meet you at long last.”

“Hey there,” said Zane.

He gave Zane a vigorous handshake.

“This is Viria, my disciple. Ranked #2 in the Inner Faction—she’s got the strongest Amazon Bloodline I ever saw. Full of potential, this one. #18 on the Rising Dragon Rankings! You’d know something about that, eh?”

He gave Zane a wink. 

Viria was a well-built girl almost as tall as Zane was, clad in light armor. She was quite beautiful, with aggressive strong features and wild black hair cropped short. Zane waved, and she nodded curtly.

“Right!” said the Barbarian Sage. “Let’s get this going, eh? Your next challenge… the Godsbane Cobra. A Monster Lord with a Monstrous Bone—and Tier 6 Laws to boot.”