Savage Awakening 340. The Second Planet (IV) (Patreon)

The Patriarch had been silent that whole time, watching it all unfold with a quiet intensity, much like his son. But where his son's face grew colder and colder, the Patriarch's grin grew fiercer and fiercer.

At last, he gave a booming laugh. "He just keeps going, doesn't he? I'll admit I wasn't sure how much of it was real at first. Now I see. Some have it, some don't. And he's got it. He's got damn near all of it!"

Haxorax was trembling; his rage was starting to leak out. "So Zane can take a beating," the prince managed at last. It sounded a bit strangled, his face still drawn tight. "That hardly makes him special—"

"Shut up," said the Patriarch.

Haxorax stared at his father, like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard—like his father had just slapped him.

Then his eyes narrowed.

Burnwater could almost feel the temperature drop in the room.

"What did you just say to me?" said Haxorax softly.

Haxorax was the only one who could speak that way to the Patriarch.

"I said," the Patriarch repeated, grinning wider, "shut up."

But likewise—the Patriarch was the only one who could speak that way to him.

Burnwater looked frantically at Noughtfire—if the two of them came to blows here...

Noughtfire just watched, eyes narrowed. He said nothing.

"Quit your whining," said the Patriarch to his son. "I want you to watch that man—watch every last thing he does."

He pointed at the glass.

"I want you to understand just what kind of beast is coming after you."

Haxorax opened his mouth, incredulous. But the Patriarch wasn't done.

"I want you to carve it deep into your mind," breathed the Patriarch, and he seemed to loom larger in the room, towering over his son, eyes gleaming. "I want you to go to sleep knowing the truth."

"What truth?" snarled Haxorax.

"But you already know it. Even if you won't admit it. Imagine how strong he'll be at Minor God. How strong he'll be at True God, even—he could reach levels of power not seen since the Prime Ancestors first came and founded the Nine Factions! Do you think you'll be strong enough to stand against him, as you are now?"

The Patriarch snorted. "Give me a break. It's only a matter of time—a thousand years, ten thousand, maybe. If Zane Walker doesn't die, he'll become a powerhouse of the Dragonspyre Galaxy like we've never seen."

The prince looked like he still wanted to protest. But the Patriarch beat him to it.

"Look at him!" roared the Patriarch, so loud it rattled the cabin—so loud it seemed to rattle Haxorax.

He pointed at the scrying glass.

Haxorax looked then. Really looked, pupils quivering.

There Zane stood, an E-Grade Planet shattered beneath him. The corpses of Minor Gods were strewn all around him—the Final Boss, who could overwhelm some peak Minor Gods, broken at his feet...

"Get it through your head," said the Patriarch. "Zane is doing that as an Ascendant!"

Haxorax's jaw worked slowly. But he said nothing.

"It's time to swallow your pride," said the Patriarch. His eyes shone fiercely. "That's it. Get a good look—study that man—that's it. Deep down, you know the truth... I know you, boy. I see the shadow in your heart! Zane Walker's on his way to taking everything from you. Your title as Prime Chosen. Your rank as #1 Core Disciple. It's written in his damned Incentive List that he'll challenge you, sooner or later—he's coming to humiliate you in front of the whole Faction!"

The First Prince of Dragons was breathing heavily, standing there as still as a statue—jaw clenched so tight Burnwater thought his teeth might shatter.

"Now you've got a choice," said the Patriarch. "Stick your head in the sand, and let him do that? Or embrace that fear? Stoke it—let it drive you to the kinds of power Zane could never reach?"

Haxorax's face had changed colors three times in the course of his father's speech. Now his face was nearly drained of color. Then, in a cracked voice—"Yes, Father."

"What was that?" snarled the Patriarch.

"I said," Haxorax snarled right back, his eyes flaring just as intensely, "I will. Whatever it takes, I will."

"Good." And the Patriarch bore the smile of an apex predator—all teeth. "Then after this, I'll show you the way. An ancient method, one your first Ancestors used to dominate this Galaxy and carve their presence into its very name. It's dangerous as all hells. And it'll take all the willpower you've got. But after that... when Zane comes knocking in a thousand years, he'll be your stepping-stone."

Haxorax nodded stiffly.

"For now, keep your eyes on him. Stoke that shadow in your heart until it damn near consumes you. Let it give you power."

Burnwater wasn't sure he managed to take a breath that whole exchange.

They were all turning back to the scrying glass now, thank the Heavens.

By then, the fight had finished.

Zane stood there heaving, bloodied all over. Half his muscles were bloodied, torn open. But despite taking blow after blow from the Silverback, he hadn't been downed once.

He hadn't even been forced to a knee.

He staggered a little—but that was all. His Health couldn't be far under 50%. He still had a good deal left in the tank.

The battlefield dissolved all around him, rivers of essence pouring in—and there came the flashes of Level-ups.

"You've done well, Zane Walker," breathed the Patriarch. His expression was feral—almost hungry. "But the worst is yet to come. Show me everything you've got!"

***

Level up!

Level up!

Level up!

Essence Level 466 -> 469

Zane was quite pleased with how that went.

But he was also starting to feel the effects of doing this run—taking on all the planets back-to-back-to-back.

His essence could replenish well enough, and his Health filled up too with his levels.

The wear on his soul, though, would take longer to heal. It wasn't just the damage from the soul attacks, which stayed a sharp throbbing in his head. It was the strain from willing out every last ounce of effort from his body. Over and over.

It wasn't enough to make a dent yet. But it was starting to wear.

Planet 2 cleared

Planet 3 opened

He found himself at the main teleporters again, staring down that same message.

To continue this run, enter in the next 60 seconds.

This time he took a deep breath first. And girded himself.

He knew this was the final test. Crush this planet and he would get that treasure—the Corpse of the Fallen Star. He was quite looking forward to powering up his Solar Flare with that Radiation Concept.

But if the Third Planet proved as much of a step up from the Second, as the Second was from the first...

Zane took nearly the entire minute to steady himself. Drink a few essence elixirs. Get back as much as he could.

When the time came, he strode to the third teleporter with conviction.

From a distance, Planet Three looked like a shifting void carved out in space. A mass of seething black; two weak moons orbited it, casting a soft silver light. That light could barely penetrate the planet proper.

The entire planet was shrouded in murky mists. Mists stricken with noxious purples.

Zane wasn't worried about poison or smog. With his body, he knew he could handle most any toxin just fine.

He strode in with his usual confidence.

***

"And now we've entered uncharted territory," said the Patriarch, cracking his knuckles.

"Hardly any Ascendant has even touched the second planet. None have cleared it. You'd have to be a hell of a Minor God to beat it."

He turned on Noughtfire. "What say you, Noughtfire? Does your disciple have what it takes?"

Noughtfire shrugged. "Only Zane knows that."

The Patriarch barked a laugh. "Good answer."

Haxorax just stared at the scrying glass with that same quiet intensity.

"This ought to be interesting." The Patriarch licked his lips. "It'll take a lot more than a strong body."

He nodded to Haxorax.

"When you managed it, you were nearly at the peak of Minor God, were you not? The Great Circle and—was it the first of your two Bones?"

Haxorax gave a single curt nod. His gaze was still boring a hole in the scrying glass.

"We've seen the lad can take a lot... the question is—where does his limit lie?"

The Patriarch seemed almost gleeful as he watched on.

He seemed to like Zane well enough, to Burnwater's relief. At least—he seemed to respect him.

Those he didn't respect, he tended to trample.

As for his son... if Burnwater just took how he treated Haxorax, he'd think the King of Dragons didn't care about his son in the slightest. But he knew it was just the opposite.

With every sentence, the Patriarch was forging the First Prince, honing him.

That handsome, pale youth was his greatest weapon.

The First Prince of Dragons was a terrifyingly talented creature, though the Patriarch would never acknowledge it. But there were others in Haxorax's brood who were nearly as talented. Others who'd had thousands of years' head start.

But Haxorax had laid waste to all of them on his way to becoming the youngest #1 of his era. He was willing to go to lengths no one else would.

And he'd done it with that same cold intensity.

That mindset had never let up... and now Burnwater knew why, firsthand.

All along the way, the Patriarch made sure of it. He broke down his own son—somehow made that genius feel utterly inadequate—in a way only his father could.

It made Burnwater a bit uncomfortable to watch at times, in truth...

But it worked. He could see it clear on Haxorax's face.

If Haxorax was a monster now... by the time Zane dueled him, Burnwater couldn't even imagine what he'd have to face.

He was a little nervous for his junior apprentice-brother.

Then he remembered who Zane was.

He thought about it some more—and he couldn't decide who to be nervous for. All he knew was, when that clash came, it'd shake the Dragonspyre Galaxy.

But that wouldn't be for quite some time. Zane had so much growing to do.

For now, his junior apprentice-brother was throwing himself at Planet Three. The Nightmare Gorge.

//

A/N: Hey folks! Just a heads-up, I'll be taking a brief break next week from the 24th to the 29th to spend time with family during Thanksgiving. I've scheduled it so it coincides with two scheduled off-days to minimize impact to the upload schedule.

I don't like taking extended time off and generally work through holidays, but there's a few I make exceptions for--hope y'all understand. I don't make many A/Ns, so while I'm here, I do read every comment y'all leave and very much appreciate the support.

See y'all tomorrow!