Savage Awakening 131. Smash (II) (Patreon)

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The desert faded out. A new world colored in all around him.

He stood in a strange swamp. A thick bog rose all around him, hugging him up to the knees. Massive trees towered all around; their trunks were bone white, their leaves a deep bruised purple. Thin shafts of moonlight flickered through the leaves. Vines coiled like pythons from the high branches. In the distance, there was a piercing mournful wailing.

He liked the atmosphere. Spooky.

Dark flickering shapes rose out of the bog. Most of their bodies were swaddled in tattered black cloaks that shifted and fluttered like shadows. The only part he could see were those grasping clawed hands; their skin was gnarled, wrung dry, white as parchment. Laws of Ice and Darkness streamed out of them, giving them little halos of coldness.

Bog Phantom

Essence Level 103

He was pleased to see even the minions now were Foundation. He had a good feeling about this Layer. He went into it relaxed, curious. But hopeful.

They flickered as they came for him, moaning softly. Four of them closing in from all sides, raising their gnarled hands, grasping out at him—

He felt a tug on his soul. A connection. Then a lurching, queasy feeling like some part of him was being sucked out. They seemed to be trying to wrench his soul out.

This might have been pretty annoying if not for the fact that he had quite a lot of soul.

The four of them clawed out at him, latched onto him; streams of ghostly light started pouring out of him, pouring into them. Not much, in the grand scheme—each of them clawed out maybe a percentage of Health a second. Still, though… he could see more popping up in the distance, drawing closer.

Alright. They'd had their fun.

One Apocalypse Smash, and he splattered them. They splattered into a weird white goo, quickly evaporating. Something between astral and physical. But it seemed he could still hit them—maybe it was his Major Law of Ethereal Flame at work. Soul or body, he was an equal opportunity Smasher.

There were many flavors of Smashing, but splattering was one of Zane's favorites. It gave him warm fuzzy feelings.

It seemed like all the trees in a fifty-foot radius got splattered too; they were all mowed down, charred to black husks. There had been some dense Wood and Dark Laws in those trees, but with Elemental Fire, his new Pseudo Stormfire was in a league of its own; he wasn't sure any Elemental Law could match it by itself.

The bog was now a wide sheet of coal under his feet, lightly smoking.

Then came the next Monster wave. He splattered them too without trouble. But they were getting to the point he couldn't round them all up and one-shot them all at once, which was encouraging.

And at last—the Boss.

It floated over the ashen mess, towering as big as the trees it floated out of. It looked like the Bog Phantoms, just blown up thrice as big. And eerie purple veins pulsed up its long thin hands. They ended in stark white claws.

Grendel's Wraith

Essence Level 113

Its hood pulled back, showing a gaping black maw sunk into a featureless white face. Zane blinked at it, fascinated.

Then it shrieked.

Zane felt like he'd gotten a bucket of ice water thrown in his face—he was stunned for a moment. The sound penetrated past his ears, struck his soul. It didn't hurt him much. But it did freeze him.

Then the thing blasted him. Hard.

So hard he was stunned again—it was like some giant ghostly hand had reached out and smacked him. It felt like he'd been smacked out of his body; the world swirled, spun around him, turned to a slurry of colors—he snapped back an instant later, feeling dizzy.

He shook his head to clear it. Then frowned, clenched his jaw.

It was time to get serious.

He focused Sage Mind on the thing and found it was feeling confused. It had slapped his soul raw—just gave him a good ol' whack, slapping right through Zane's soul defenses. But while Zane had felt stung, the Wraith felt like it'd hit a brick wall. Its own soul felt sore from hitting Zane that hard.

That was the thing about Zane's soul. He'd learned that one Demonic Soul defense skill a while back and then pretty much forgot about it. His time was better spent working on other things, like Smashing. Just being as big as he was was a pretty darn good soul defense, in his opinion.

And now it was Zane's turn.

He threw up an Apocalypse Smash.

But just as his red sun was falling the Wraith flitted out of the way. His Smash rattled the earth, shot up a wall of soot, made quite a big BOOM—but hit nothing.

And the thing whacked him from behind with that weird soul-slap. Zane groaned.

He turned, tried smashing it again—this time tried timing it, anticipating it. It still got out of the way. And smacked him so hard his vision swam. It came fast as a flicker, that soul-slap; he ducked and it still caught him in the face.

Zane frowned. He chased after it, still smashing, trying out different timings, trying to catch it just right; it somehow kept flitting, kept smacking him around for his trouble. Even feeling knowing where it was going wasn't quite enough; the thing had some stupid reaction time. Maybe because it was weightless moving was very easy. If he adjusted his Smash somehow it could still got out of the way.

All those smacks were adding up, too—his soul felt raw, bruised all over.

Warning!

Health under 75%

All Zane managed to do was terraform the landscape. The whole place was a blackened, smoking cratered wasteland now. The Boss was still floating around though, being annoying.

Zane narrowed his eyes at it, head pounding awfully.

It was a big ghost bird, was what it was—a little too fast for his first anti-bird tactic. That was fine. Zane just thought of another one.

This time, Zane chucked an Apocalypse Smash just a little to its left. The thing went right—and tripped.

Gotcha!

Because Zane had laid out his other Chain in a long line, floating there, waiting. No Stormfire on it; no Laws on it at all. The ghost was used to reacting to his big flashy quick-moving thing.

So it ran straight into his still, essence-less trap.

The moment it did, he wrapped it. Started coiling around it over and over; it started wriggling, shrieking—maybe because of what it was made of, it felt extremely slippery, hard to hold on to. Zane had to keep wrapping it in more and more loops, keep crushing it tighter and tighter, just to hold it still—

Then he had another idea.

Didn't he used to have a skill for this? He hadn't used it in quite a while. And certainly not with Elemental Fire. But…

Promethean Noose!

And the whole thing caught Elemental Fire. Blazing deep-red flames, the deep-red of burning coals, lit every inch of Chain. And it started constricting like a cobra, digging deep into that ghostly black fabric, crushing its limbs together—

Skill evolved!

Promethean Noose (Rare -> Legendary)

Apparently just throwing Elemental Fire on it was enough.

The Wraith started roasting. It started shrieking, bucking even as Zane's noose tightened more and more, strangling it utterly, cutting off all hope—

And that wasn't even the worst part.

A redness washed over the world. High above, floating right over the trussed-up Boss, was an Apocalypse Smash. It hovered right over the moon, blotting it out. Replacing its silvery glow with a demonic glare. A glare quickly brightening, heating up…

The Wraith struggled harder, thrashed with all its might—but Zane held tight. The more it thrashed, the more it burned itself, the more it melted.

Then the Apocalypse Smash was complete.

He let it loose. The Wraith could do nothing but watch it drop, watch as redness swallowed up its whole world. It threw up some kind of glimmering Darkness-Law shield, a last resort—

Then the Smash crushed right through it.

BOOM!

There was a massive splattering.

Zane yanked out his meteor, reloading for another go at it—and saw the Boss was still alive, if barely. It was pretty badly melted by now. Mostly flattened; a lot smaller now. Chunks of its ectoplasm body was strewn all around it in puddles. Still struggling desperately—it just couldn't get out. This was pretty brutal, honestly. Strangled and scorched in one Chain, smashed with the other… Zane smiled.

BOOM!

By now, it had the barest flicker of life left. It tried going on the counterattack, tried whacking him, tried screaming, even—but he had a Chain around its throat, choking it off. He had five or six coils wrapping its arms to its torso, pinning it tight. It couldn't muster anything; it could only wiggle.

Watching birds struggle was tremendously amusing to Zane.

BOOM!

Level up!

Essence Level 106 -> 107

Layer Five, Duskmire Bog, has been cleared!

***

"The Savage Sage has cleared the fifth layer!" The technician announced.

Cheers went up. A few folks started chanting—"Savage Sage! Savage Sage!"

By now, the crowd had ballooned to hundreds of people; they were spilling out onto the streets. Silicon Coven technicians were examining the array even now, trying to figure out if they could tack on a projector—give the crowd a show. They all wanted to see Zane Walker at work.

His fanbase, just like his World Rank, was quickly burgeoning. Everyone wanted to see his rise. It seemed like every few days he jumped a tier of strength, found some new way to shock the world. Most of his fans were young guys who found him inspirational; though there were some older guys who liked how he presented himself, how he fought. Though there was a fair number of girls too. Reina was very annoyed to discover it mostly wasn't due to his combat strength.

There was much chattering going around, but most of it was folk feverishly discussing if he'd beat Eze's score. The crowd was very split on it. Money changed hands constantly as folk bet on it—at the moment, most folk thought Zane would do better than Yuki Urabe, World Rank #6. But still slightly worse than Eze. Zane might have made a breakthrough, but Eze had too—and he'd learned a nasty new Skill, folk said, one that skyrocketed his powers. It was hard to bet against the king.

One boy was convinced otherwise. Evan Armstrong went around the crowd, happily telling anyone who would listen that Zane was definitely going to beat Eze's record. To him Zane was the very best.

Then—

“Please." A thin bald man snorted. His name was Tani, and he was one of the many attendants in Emeka Eze's retinue; he’d been given a spot because his father was childhood friends with Eze’s father. He had also just bet quite a large sum on Zane's losing. "That Zane Walker may have decent, if overrated, soul talent. But in Leveling? He's far inferior."

"Heh?" said Evan, blinking.

"He may be keeping pace with Lord Eze now," said Tani archly. He crossed his stick-thin arms, sneering. "But come the sixth, seventh, eighth layers? Then we'll see what separates second-rate posers from the true elites.”

He was gathering quite a few eyeballs; folk were looking at him all around. He noticed them and smiled, enjoying the attention. It made him want to keep spouting.

"That spar the other day was a mere fluke!" He snorted. "Everyone knows Zane Walker used a cheap trick. And even then, he could hardly match Lord Eze! In reality, he is merely an inferior talent. Soon enough he'll fall behind. Then we'll all forget this flash in the pan."

Evan frowned. "That's not true, Zane's not a flash in the pan! And he would never cheat!"

"Really?" Tani smirked. "Then tell me this! How is it one man beats the fastest Elemental Law comprehension in the world by a margin of five hours? Doesn't that seem strange to you? The gap between second and third is less than half that. How did he do it?"

"I—"

"The answer's simple!" Tani turned from Evan, looking to the crowd with smiling eyes. "We've all heard the rumor, haven't we? Cain Hastings accused him of it outright! Zane Walker came across a demonic inheritance. He's burned his lifespan! All for his fifteen minutes of fame—at what cost?"

Suddenly folk started frowning. Muttering.

Poor Evan was left there spluttering, reddening. "Zane wouldn't do that, that's not who he is!"

This did not do much to convince people.

"Everyone's saying it," said Tani. His smirk widened. "How else could he do it so fast? Isn't it obvious? Look all he's needed to do, just to match my Lord Eze! It's rather pathetic once you think about it."

Evan tried saying more, but Tani cut him off.

"Before you ask, he told me so himself! We met at the cookout the other day. He was blackout drunk and let slip that his greatest goal in life was to be known as the guy who matched Emeka Eze, even for just one moment! It's his words, not mine. Well. I suppose he got his wish…" Tani shrugged.

Evan was very confused by now—then he shook his head. He started reddening. "That's just not true!" he cried. "You don't know him like I do, he'd never say that! You—you take that back!"

Now a sly expression came over Tani's face. "Oh? Then how about this? If Walker beats Lord Eze's score, I'll take back everything I said. If he doesn't… you give me five high-grade Essence Stones." 

"Deal!" cried Evan. To him it didn't matter what he bet. He knew Zane would never let him down.

Just then—

"What nonsense is this?" came a cold, calm voice.

Evan blinked. So did Tani. They turned—and found a man striding toward them. A man whose aura rose over him like a bonfire, suppressing every other aura there. A proud, regal man.

"Lord Eze!" said Tani. He smiled an oily smile. "It's so good to see you! I was merely putting this fool in his place. He claimed that poser Walker would somehow surpass you, you see—"

He choked off under the weight of Eze's gaze.

"Who gave you the audacity," said Eze slowly. "To speak on my behalf?"