Savage Awakening 64. Storm of Feathers (II) (Patreon)

(2/2)

The tornado tore down the Gorge, one terrible black tower of Monster flesh. Utterly crushing.

Then it stilled. Shivered.

And, at its very bottom, flickered red.

The red started to thicken—a brilliant current turning against the black. They corkscrewed furiously, running against each other.

For a moment they held there, deadlocked.

Then the red blazed bright. It shoved. And the blackness could only give way.

Red tore into black, and black unwound. It was a very violent thing. It unwound not just the tornado, but what made it. It unwound flesh and bone. Shrieks poured down the Cyclone.

The black started catching fire.

Seventh revolution.

Warning! Health under 50%

Zane was on one knee. He could barely keep himself upright. He kept himself moving by sheer will—but luckily unlike Health or essence, he never worried about that. He always seemed to have more in him.

He spun into an eighth revolution. Now the red spread in earnest. It started feasting on the black. There was a new sound, the sound of raging fire, the sound of burning, a deep-throated roaring that drowned out the wind’s shrieking.

The Monsters tried taking him down all at once; they must be getting nervous. They could tell something was wrong. Suddenly they threw everything. They tried chucking lightning at him, tried pouring down their arrow-like feathers. Most of it went up in flames as they came down the chute. Feathers smoldered to smoke. Lightning roasted mid-air. A scattering still got through, thwip-thwip-thwipping by, searing hot lines into his skin.

Ghostly white fires flickered where they’d struck.

Skill up!

Rebirth in Flame I -> II

He grinned bloody teeth.

He'd been in here what, ten minutes? Twenty? And he’d already collected three Skill Levels.

He was up to the tenth revolution now.

Now things were getting dangerous. For them, that was.

The nasty thing about fire was, the bigger it was, the faster it burned, the harder it was to stop. Zane's Cyclone started swallowing. It was a shining red-yellow serpent rising out of the ground, gulping down rows and rows of fowl, feasting on them, roasting them whole. So much essence flooded him he hardly knew what to do with it.

It kept feeding his healing. And once he was fully healed it started pouring into Levels. It felt like he was drinking a strong Essence Vial—just a glut of dense essence pouring in all at once.

He felt it swelling, reaching a critical point—

A sudden warmth spread through him, euphoric.

Level up!

Essence Level 78 -> 79

The fires had climbed halfway up the Cyclone now, and there was no stopping them. Like watching a wildfire tear through a forest. Barely any attacks got through to him now. The ones that did struck like ghosts. They cut him, but by the time you looked down to see them, he only saw the aftermath—the ghostly white flames flickering away. The skin underneath was perfectly smooth.

Rebirth in Flame, Tier II, wiped them away like dust.

By then, a deep crackling, a fiery roaring claimed the Gorge; the shrieking of the winds, the shrieking of the Crows, just couldn't compete. Zane saw a few Crows crying out, flapping away, breaking free of the mass. They hardly got out before the Cyclone dragged them back. They burned like the rest of them.

He saw clumps of red dots drifting closer on his mini-map, on either side. At first he thought it was other Crows coming to help.

Then he realized his winds had gotten so fierce they yanked the whole Monster stream into their orbit.

When they came through, they roasted instantly. There was a little explosion at first—when the dark streams touched the edge of the Cyclone, and his greedy fires found new flesh to devour. Little explosions on either side over and over, as whole flocks were dragged in. They flapped uselessly. They threw Skill after Skill. The Lightning Spirits blew out jagged bright-yellow trees, hitting nothing.

None of their powers could stand with him.

When he first dropped through here, he felt like he was being thrown into a meat grinder. He was the meat grinder now. He wasted them.

The redness on his mini-map started to thin. The darkness in his vision thinned too. You could actually see down the Gorge now, all the way up to the top, running forward to either side, all lit up, raging, flickering yellow-red in the light of the Cyclone. Reflecting the radiance of his power.

Then the Cyclone hit the top, and ran out of bodies.

It reigned dominant, the sole wind of the Gorge, and its triumphant roar rushed down its length.

Zane watched his mini-map. A river of Monster red was a trickle. Now just a splash of it, little dots, little droplets—

And nothing.

Level up!

Essence Level 79 -> 80

He dropped the Cyclone.

Towers of fire raced out to either end in one last triumph. Then they burned out too, and the Gorge went dark.

There was an eerie silence.

Zane looked up. The walls were...blue, oddly. He looked up farther, and saw why.

That was the color of the sky. Seen from this deep down, The sky seemed a bright blue river carved onto the surface of the world. Surreal.

Where there was once an army of Monsters, now there was just him. Him, breathing heavy, heaving, this stupid smile on his face. That was the end of it.

He'd gotten two Skill Levels out of it but only two essence Levels. That was still a lot of essence. That was the essence of thousands of high-Level Monsters pouring into him at once.

He was simply getting to the point where each new Level cost an insane amount of essence.

At least he'd hit Level 80. Nice round number. He wondered what World Ranking that was… he’d have to check when he got out.

***

Right. Time for the Bosses. He picked an end at random and set out for it.

On the way, he found a chest buried in the wall, its top sticking out. A stone chest secured with thick steel latches. Zane opened it.

The inside was pretty similar to other treasure chests he’d seen, just fancier. All plush velvet cushions for this treasure. It was a veil, studded with little gems. Like a pale sky dusted with stars.

Dreamweaver Veil (C)

Wear the veil, and you shall dream of Law. In dreams you shall see the world like you never could waking, and you shall know its secrets. Uses remaining: 3

Zane pocketed it happily. If it had just a few uses left, he'd make the best of it. Last time, he’d figured out Law Fruit stacked. He figured he'd get a few more Law treasures to pair with this, and take them all at once.

These treasure chests seemed to be the ‘default Treasure Area’ the system spawned. He found at least one in pretty much every dungeon he'd been to, not to mention the dungeon chest that spawned at the end. Usually there was at least one other Treasure Area per floor, though.

He kept walking and didn't find anything. Usually this meant it was in the Boss lair.

And sure enough—he got to the end of the Gorge, which opened up into a wider circular chamber. His mini-map came into range. There, overlapping with a fat red dot, were a host of fat yellow dots all bunched together.

Smaller red dots dotted the chamber’s edges. Probably either Lightning Spirits or Crows. One per Boss.

He gave it a little think, scratched his head. Admittedly, forethought was not his strong suit—he usually preferred to get into the thick of things. He had a knack for finding a way through once he was knee-deep. But he'd found out just as he was strong against Wind, he was pretty weak against Lightning. It made sense, actually. Steel conducted electricity, didn't it?

If those dots were Lightning Spirits and they blasted him as soon as he stepped in…

It could be a rough time. He could imagine a scene where they tased him before he even got going, and he just lay there, spasming the whole fight.

Maybe he could take a page out of Reina’s book.

He got out his Axes early, before he even stepped into the lair.

With a spin he got his Cyclone sparking again. The second revolution, the third, and the fire roared back to life. Flames licked the Gorge walls, casting it bright yellow-red. He kept going.

Around the eight revolution, he thought, good enough!

He waded into the lair.

He couldn't even see what he was getting into, really—most of his vision was swamped with fire. He did hear the shrieking, though. Not electric-white but feather-black— this wasn't the lightning spirit side after all. This side seemed just Crows.

They tried getting at him.

They couldn’t come anywhere close. They roasted like paper dolls in an incinerator. They poured in again and again… nothing.

He was starting to regret coming in this heavy. Against Crows, this was way overkill. In ten seconds, the red dots on his mini-map had nearly vanished. Where was the Boss?

Then he saw a fat red dot break out of the clump of small red ones. Right on top of him. He looked up.

At first he’d thought it was a swarm of Crows bunched in close. Then it unfurled its wings and screeched, and he realized—no. That was just a Crow as big as a house. Its plumage shifted as it flapped, like a roiling thunderstorm. It screeched; it sounded like dozens of Crows trapped in one massive throat.

Galefeather Raven (Monster)

Essence Level 74

Law: Major Law of Turbulent Winds (Elemental Law of Wind)

Soul of the Storm (Passive) [Rare]: Generates a perpetual storm aura. This aura creates erratic gusts and mini-cyclones, breaking enemy strikes and empowering its own.

Hurricane Dive (Active) [Rare]: Soars high, then dives at lightning speed wrapped in storm-strength winds. Its force is akin to a hurricane making landfall.

Its weaknesses were the joints and its wings, and right around its neck. It seemed to be holding off his Cyclone just fine. Must be that Soul of the Storm. It was like it had its own little wind force-field.

The wings closed in suddenly, folded into a sleek form, like a torpedo. It dropped straight over him. This must be that Hurricane Dive. He readied himself. He figured he had to time it just right—

Pain exploded up his midsection. A massive force blasted through him. He hit a wall, crumpled to the floor, gasping.

He blinked. There seemed to be a gaping hole in his midsection.

When he looked up, he found the culprit. The Raven’s beak was stained dark red.

That thing just hit him so fast it was like it’d teleported.

His Cyclone sputtered out.

…and he’d worked so hard on it too. He felt a little miffed.

Now that the flames cleared, he finally saw where he was. A natural stone amphitheater ringed by towering craggy cliffs. Halfway up the rock face—where he’d seen all those yellow dots—was a nest.

Those he could get later. For now, this Raven. His belly ached, but Rebirth in Flame was already patching up the muscle. He was having a hard time respecting the thing—it couldn’t even get through his abs. In fairness he was probably just a bad matchup for it.

It folded for another dive. This time he tossed his Chains right in front of him. Just this tangled black steel mass. There was a rush of air; he heard a CLANG!, a howl. A whip of black, and the thing had rushed off. There was a new dent in its beak. He grinned, and went chasing after it. He chucked an Axe after it, and another. Rising Sun Slash!

He missed.

…He missed again.

He kept on missing for about five minutes. The thing flew circles around him—it felt kind of like trying to swat a fly in the old days. A very big, sharp fly.

He tried setting up another Cyclone to draw it in, and was rewarded with a new hole in his belly. He tried waiting for it to dive, then timing it, and after collecting three more holes in his belly—it really liked his belly, for some reason—he was made to realize he was slower than he thought. It could hit him and get out of the way faster than he could swing his Axe, apparently.

It was starting to get embarrassing. He was just glad Avery wasn’t here to see him running around like a buffoon, swatting at air. He really had to work on his speed. This was ridiculous.

He tried setting up a fake Cyclone and faking it out. It did not work. The thing was somehow wise to it. He tried switching to his old Chains, setting them extremely long, throwing them all up to try to tangle it. That did not work either.

He tried climbing up to the nest, and found some massive speckled eggs nestled there, among other treasures. He put an Axe over the top of one, threatening to crush it. The thing looked him dead in the eyes, like it was daring him to do it. It seemed unreasonably smug.

“…”

In the end he just waited for it to start diving, then chucked out his Axe. He figured he had a lot of tries at it. It wasn’t like it was going to kill him anytime soon.

He mistimed it twelve times. Then, on the thirteenth, he took its head off its shoulders.

Not his proudest victory, but he’d take it. Was it luck? He preferred to think of it as ‘playing the odds.’

…He was extra glad Avery wasn’t here. She would’ve laughed at him for a week straight, probably.

Ah, well. He went to check out his new treasures.