Savage Awakening 318. The Gauntlet (III) (Patreon)

It was a violent next few minutes.

Chains crashed about, wrestling down the Cobra. Stormfire and Void Rot clawed at each other in bursts that shook the cage. The Monster’s tail spikes slashed the air, leaving bubbling hissing scars wherever it passed… 

Zane took a battering.  

His skin steamed all over, exposing the places where the rot drilled deeper into the muscle. He was slammed into the ceiling, the walls, over and over…

He just kept getting up.

Every time he got lashed, he seized something in return. Forced through another length of his Chain. Every time, he wrapped his Chains a little more, and a little more still—until by the end, they looked like two obsidian pythons coiled around the Cobra. Holding it down, freezing it still by the raw force of their compression. 

By then Zane was a grizzled figure—shot through with Void Rot, bleeding from his entire front side. A gaping wound slashed across his face. So much blood poured out he had to wipe it to see out of his left eye. 

But that eye was bright as ever. 

Now he had his foe exactly where he wanted it. Fully in his power…

And when it came to strength, the Godsbane Cobra could not compete with Zane.

“Hells, but he’s tough!” said Summersteel. He bumped the Barbarian Sage. “You hammer that into him?”

“Don’t I wish,” said the Sage. Every time he heard Summersteel talk like that he felt a little burst of joy. “The lad’s had that since the moment he came! That’s down to the core of him.”

It wasn’t long before Zane had the beast tied in an ugly knot.

It could only manage to flail its spiked tail at Zane—Zane lurched back on torn-up legs, and the spikes barely grazed him.

Then Zane set his jaw. Flexed his arms. And strangled.

Man and beast were locked together—Stormfire blazing to new heights down his chains, searing deep into the scales, melting through, sinking into flesh…

Zane was wobbly on his feet. His left thigh was ruined by a hissing, bubbling black crater going down to the bone. 

But he showed no sign of hurt. If not for the damage burning clear on his body you would’ve thought he was hardly hurt at all. He never slowed, even as he staggered.

The force of his compression was clearly growing unbearable for the Cobra—it couldn’t help but screech, thrashing harder, as Zane imposed his will. 

In desperation it managed to wind its own coil around Zane, trying to go strangle-for-strangle with him—a futile effort.

The power difference was simply too great.

Zane was doing so well, thought the Barbarian Sage. 

By the end of it, that Tier 6 Domain—once so vast it swamped the cage—was flickering, growing pale and ghostly.

It was the Cobra whose coils loosened first. Whose fangs lost their grip, splayed open…

Its eyes rolled back as its head crashed into the steel. And with one last shudder, it lay still.

Zane was left on one knee. Head bloodied, heaving in deep breaths… 

But not for long. 

The Serpent was going to essence. Flowing into him. And there came the flashes of Level-ups.

It was over. He had won—and done it in dominant fashion. 

“…He’s good,” said Viria suddenly. She sounded grudging.

“See?” chortled Summersteel. “I told you! Put aside your pride, lass! There’s lots to learn—even from these juniors!”

Viria reddened a little.

“Well, what do you think makes him special?”

“He’s obviously got an incredible body,” said Viria immediately, crossing her arms. She was still a bit red. “And strong Laws, too. But it’s his execution. There’s no self-doubt in his mind—once he sets his mind to something, he finishes it.”

“That’s Zane for you,” said the Sage proudly. He cracked open the door and hollered into the cage—“Hell of a fight, lad! How low’d it get you?”

Zane shrugged. “Thirty percent?”

“Hmm,” mused the Sage. He was thinking of the fight he had planned next.

It’d be a harrowing one. But after that performance, he was starting to think Zane might just be ready.

“Say…” Summersteel bumped him on the shoulder. “I heard a rumor.” 

“Eh?”

“I heard you pulled off a heist.” Summersteel grinned. “You didn't go and capture a Monster Prince did you, you old hound?”

“How the hells’d you hear about that?” The Barbarian Sage grinned right back. “Well, might be I did. Just trying to test the lad’s limits. Get a sense for just how far his training has taken him—how far he can still go. Might be that’s what he’ll fight next. It’s a tricky one, though—speedster. Ten-thousand-year-old Monstrous Bone. It’ll be a damned good test.” 

“You can’t mean…right now?” 

The Barbarian Sage nodded. “When else?” 

Summersteel looked stunned. His disciple had her mouth half-open. “You want him—” she pointed at Zane. “To fight a Monster Prince—with a 10,000-year-old Monstrous Bone and Tier 6 Laws? Are you mad, old man?”

“Now, now!” said Summersteel, frowning. 

Viria colored. She gave a stiff little bow. “Apologies. I’ve… been told my tongue runs away from me at times.” 

The Barbarian Sage waved a hand, chuckling. “Pssh! It’s alright. I get that a lot.” He scratched his chin and thought about it.

The thing with Zane was, he would never tell you he wanted to quit. And he could take so much, it was tempting to just keep stacking on challenges—just to see how much he could take.

But even Zane had a breaking point, as they’d found. It was just quite high—so high no one knew where it was, not even Zane.

It was hard to tell what was too much. 

This Prince… was it too much? It would be a hell of a test… 

In the end, the Barbarian Sage settled on a decision.

“Thing with Zane is,” he said. “You’ve got to push him to his limits—that’s where he grows best. That’s where he surprises you. That’s where he can show you something special, someone no-one’s ever seen.” 

He was back to grinning. “Besides—he’s a big lad! He can take it.”

The Sage believed in him. 

Viria said nothing. She looked troubled. 

“You're thinking something, lass!” said the Sage. “Go on.”

“You’re making a mistake,” she said. “He’s…he’s very impressive,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen a man like him. But that’s not enough. Against a Prince, he’ll be crushed. You shouldn’t waste him like that.” 

“We’ll see,” said the Sage. His eyes gleamed. “Something tells me the lad’ll be just fine.”

*** 

Zane made his way back, still feeling pretty pumped up.

The portly dwarf in the battle armor waved. “Nicely done!”

“Thanks,” said Zane.

“Congratulations,” mumbled the woman, who quickly looked away. She seemed a bit shy. 

The Barbarian Sage came over and greeted him with some cheerful back-slaps. “You sure showed that worm! Looks like you’ve still got some left in the tank—what do you say you rest up and go for one more?”

Zane nodded. 

“That’s my boy!” The Sage paused. “This next one—he’s a true genius of the Monster race, I tell you. The Monster royals—the ones at the very top—they’ve got to be furious I snagged him! He would’ve been a real problem if left to grow. Especially during the final Wave. Now you have a chance to take him out. Here and now.” 

Just hearing that got Zane going again.

The Sage looked him dead in the eyes, though. 

“You be careful, lad! He’s like nothing you’ve ever fought—he’d rank damned high on the all-time Minor God Steeles in explosiveness! Tier 6 Laws of the Shadow Realm. Damned tricky thing… ”

He shook his head. “You’ll have to be sharp. Use everything you’ve got.”

Zane understood. He put his fists together.

“I’m ready,” he informed the Sage. 

*** 

For the thousandth time that season, Prince Vadros slashed.

His claws ripped jagged scars in the air—scars that seemed to suck in light, and essence, and aura. 

They ripped through the air, slamming against the Spirit Steel walls, trailing motes of smoldering shadow… 

For a second runes flashed bright against the steel, swallowing the dark. Leaving no trace behind.

Vadros growled.

The humans had grown advanced with their trickery.

These runes were meant to contain True Gods. He might’ve been flattered.

They were forced to resort to them only because they could not match the raw power of the Monster elites. The thought gave Vadros a perverse pride.

His race grew stronger than ever. He’d seen the forces his Lord Father had been gathering in the depths of their prisons… in a mere few decades, this cursed place might’ve been razed to the ground.

It was his own fool mistake, growing greedy. Raiding too far into the lands of man. Some unwashed mongrel had taken him hostage. And to think—that savage old human hadn’t even thought to give him quarters befitting a prince.

It was as though he was not aware just who he held hostage. 

Vadros curled his lip at his bare cell.

After he was returned to his kind, Father would hear of this.

When the Great Exodus came, he would make certain Father murdered that old human first.

He felt a whisper of magic far behind him. Heard a door creaking open—felt wards flaring up, shielding the entrance.

I bore of this place, drawled Vadros. What is it you want, human? Stones? Skill Tomes from Cycles Past? Ancient Sacred Bones? You shall have it. My Father would pay a great price for my safe return… 

He stilled. Turned.

Two humans had crossed the threshold. 

There was that old man. But a second man, too, hearty and hale—hardly touched by the passing of time. And already deep into Ascendant. 

It surprised Vadros. 

Then he felt the man’s vitality.

That raw life-power. That strength of soul, of body… it was blinding. And instantly something deep within Vadros despised it. Like having a piercing light shined in his eyes.

He hissed, fangs protruding. 

They had brought him a champion of mankind! A smelly, blundering oaf of man, by the looks of it. But that potential was undeniable.

What is the meaning of this?