Savage Awakening 136. Final Layer (III) (Patreon)

Warning!

Health under 50%

Savage Body activated

Vitality increased 25%

Strength increased 25%

Speed increased 25%

Skill up!

Apocalypse Smash III -> IV

Skill up!

Fiery Renewal III -> IV

It was a good thing too. Zane was gushing pretty heavily; a waterfall of blood spilled out his midsection. But now he was healing so fast he could feel his skin, his muscles stitching together. There was a little bonfire in his gut. Cauterizing, clotting, mending…

The higher Level a Skill got, the more essence it took. But there was a bigger jump in power too. And the stronger stuff he killed, the more Skill Levels he got.

It was hard to equate between rarity tiers. But if Zane had to ballpark it, a Level V Skill of one tier was about equal to a Level I Skill the next tier up.

Level V was when skills got really powerful—when the System gave them that 'high Level' exclamation mark. And now both Apocalypse Smash and Fiery Renewal were pretty darn close.

It showed. In just seconds, most of the bleeding had stopped. He was still dripping pretty heavily, feeling woozy. But he was ready. He spat blood, turned his eyes to the castle…

He wondered how far he'd gotten. He had to have killed at least fifty by now, right?

Red dots popped up at the edge of his mini-map, clumped in tight formation. The next wave was coming.

They were Knights again. But bigger this time—ten or so, smaller than the giant one that'd just skewered him, but a good head bigger than all the ones that'd come before.

Dread Knight (Monster)

Essence Level 122

It looked like from here on out they'd only get stronger and stronger…

Zane clenched his fists, breathed out. And rose to meet the challenge.

***

The crowds bunched around Beacons all over the world, the crowds bunched around the Hell Array, the thousands huddled around little scrying-glass receivers, watching with bated breath—everyone was still reeling when the next wave came through.

These new Knights wore spiked helms. And their shields were edged molten red with runes scribed in the middle that glowed, as though written in lava. Their weapons were fiercer too—burning with a deeper kind of darker. A darker, hotter kind that warped the air around it…

"It’s not over yet! This wave’s a lot stronger than the last!” said Tyler.

As they came at Zane, they made a giant shield-wall. Looming high, burning dark and cruelly hot, marching ceaselessly forward; you couldn't find a single weakness in it. It made for a scary sight.

But there was no fear in Zane Walker's eyes, no panic. He was still breathing heavy, still pumped up, but his eyes were totally clear—just taking it all in…

He hurled himself straight into their midst.

Two Apocalypse Smashes raged in from the sides, staggering the lot of them—the explosions shook the bridge, shook the Knights, blasting them off balance. Making their clean lines a jagged mess.

And Zane went berserk.

It was brutal. Efficient. Not graceful. His was a blunt way of fighting, a simple way—every punch, every Smash, landed with devastating force.

“Good grief,” whispered Tyler. "He's tearing right through them!"

"He has this way of making you fight his fight," said Becca. "He turns everything into a messy brawl! And no one brawls better than him—oh my god, look at that power!"

She cried that last bit as a Stormfire Punch lifted a Knight clean off its feet and tossed it over the edge.

They all watched transfixed as he went to work. The Knights got their licks in, carved out bloody chunks of him, but nothing they threw could stop him. Or even slow him.

“Fuck…” By now Tyler had gone hoarse. His hair was in disarray. “Zane Walker's a goddamn force of nature!" 

He’d been a firm Zane skeptic before; he’d been in the camp that thought the Eze fight was a fluke.

Zane was making him a believer.

By the end of it Zane stood heavy, bent over slightly. Hundreds of fresh cuts shone on his body. Some were so deep they went almost to the bone. He was gushing everywhere again; those white flames of his could hardly keep up.

His body was wrecked, beat up, heaving. But his eyes were still the same. Still clear as ever, burning fiercely.

But it was like the Hell Array was determined not to give Zane any breathing room. Almost as soon as he'd cleared that wave...

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Two pairs of heavy footsteps rumbled from the castle.

Shadows loomed over the gates. And two massive creatures ducked out.

They looked like ogres in suits of armor; mountains of muscle bunched under boulder-rough gray skin. Their eyes shone bloodred. They growled, rumbling deeply, baring fangs like saber-tooth tigers.

And in their hands they held maces the sizes of lamp-posts. They were topped with wrecking balls burning with Blackflame. Their spikes seethed molten-red.

Blackflame Executioner (Monster)

Essence Level 132

“Level 132?! And there's two of them?!" choked Tyler.

In Seattle, Reina clutched her pillow so hard it nearly burst.

Then the Executioners swung.

Zane must've been using Sage Mind. Because if he'd been purely reacting, he would have been squashed then and there. Those maces streaked through the air—and smashed the bridge so hard it was like an earthquake struck; chunks of stone shook off the sides. Two new craters marred the ground, smoldering Blackflame.

Then Zane struck back.

He threw in two Apocalypse Smashes, one for each Monster—they tried blocking with their maces. But Zane must've been able to feel their trajectories. The meteor hammers made a clean loop over the top. And clocked them straight in the head.

It blackened the steel, drove big bumps into the helms. But…

"He's trying to knock them over," said Becca; she was flustered just watching it. "But one Smash just isn't enough!"

The maces rained down—and Zane leaped back again, giving more ground. The Executioners barreled after him, slobbering, filling the air with their smashes—they didn't give him a chance to strike back. When one of them smashed, the other was reloading. They might've looked like slobbering brutes but they moved in perfect sync.

"He's getting close to the edge again!" warned Tyler. Then—"Hell!"

He cried that last bit after a mace barely missed Zane's head.

Then Zane stared up, eyes bright.

He roared. And threw with all his might. Two Apocalypse Smashes blitzed through the air.

And cratered into the helm of the nearest Executioner. One after another.

The first Smash staggered it. The second Smash knocked it off balance, crushed the helm all the way in; it roared, went bowling over the edge…

But that was just one of the brutes. Zane had thrown everything he had at it—an all-out attack; it was the only way. He’d had to turn his back on the other.

A mace loomed over him—

He barely had time to turn back. There was no time to dodge. It slammed down on him, tons upon tons of burning black steel boiling over with essence…

And it crushed him.

The crowd gasped.

Up in Seattle, Reina screamed.

A silence.

The smoke was quickly clearing. The mace was planted deep into the ground… a pool of blood leaked out from under it, staining the sooty ground. Reina choked. She knew it wasn't real, but she could still hardly bear to look.

“Is—is that the end?” croaked Tyler.

Becca couldn’t even speak—both her hands covered her mouth.

Then the mace lifted. The ogre blinked.

Then the hole-ridden, mangled, crushed man underneath twitched. And build up to an elbow, then all fours—and staggered to his feet.

Zane Walker was riddled full of holes. Chunks of his big body were crushed beyond recognition. You could hardly make out a patch of skin that wasn't bloodied. And yet—though his nose was broken, and a leg looked pretty badly mangled—he wasn't totally ruined.

"How?!" said Tyler.

Becca gasped.

"Look—over his shoulder!" she cried. "It's the chain!"

A length of Chain was slung all over him. Over his head, snaking down his body covering his vital organs. It was chipped. Almost shattered in places. But where it protected, Zane was only smashed. Not destroyed.

"He planned that too?!" Tyler looked ready to yank out his hair.

“It’s—“ Becca was struggling to find her voice. “It’s like he’s always a step ahead!”

The Executioner looked furious. It ran at Zane, taking another swing—but this time Zane was fighting one-on-one.

This time it barely lasted a handful of exchanges.

One Smash blasted it behind its head, right at the base of its skull. Another crunched into the same spot and it was hurtling forward, sprawling off its feet. The Chains circled around, catching its legs, making a tripwire—just a little something extra to help it on its journey.

The Executioner went over the edge.

And once again, Zane was the man left standing.

Every single wave he looked more mangled, more ruined than before… except for his eyes. They stayed exactly same. They had this burning intensity, this focus...

“Zane Walker is on another level," croaked Tyler. "This is world-class right here, folks! World class!"

Zane staggered around as though drunk. His body was falling apart before their eyes. White flames worked furiously trying to keep him up—

Yet another of those ten Dread-Knight waves was coming past the gates.

Zane threw himself at them. No hesitation.

He smashed, staggered, bowled his way through, and by the end of it, he looked like he'd been through a meat grinder. He stood there shaking, utterly brutalized.

Tyler asked the question on everyone's mind—the question crowds were shouting in awe at Beacons around the world—"How the hell is he still standing?!"

But they could all see it in Zane's eyes.

It was a matter of sheer will.

Eze stood in the shade of the nearby trees, a little removed from the hectic crowd. And nodded, a little smile on his face.

The world was seeing, up-close, what he'd seen days before.

Another wave came at him. This time the Knights were still bigger—

Dread Paladin (Monster)

Essence Level 125

Over and over they came—it was enough to make a man lose hope.

You would've thought it was the very first wave with the way Zane threw himself at it.

This wave was particularly brutal. His wounds were taking a serious toll; even he couldn't ignore that. You could see he could feel things coming, tried preempting, reacting—but his body just wouldn't move the same anymore. He took some brutal, bone-shattering blows going through them. He got crushed again and again.

He threw off the last of the Paladins. And slumped facedown on the ground. Utterly broken.

A heartbeat. Two.

Just when a little doubt started creeping in, just when they thought this was the time the big man would stay down at last—

Zane built up to an elbow. Then to his knees. He staggered up. A wild aura came over him, a sharp burst of power; his aura exploded. Some unseen, last-ditch Skill was activating.

Zane Walker was heaving, bloodied. But his head was unbowed. By now they'd all lost count of the kills; it didn’t matter anymore.

"Oh my god…" whispered Becca. She couldn't seem to stop saying it.

He just kept finding the will to keep fighting. And that will was pushing his body far past its natural limits; he was the definition of Critical Health right now. And yet…

There he stood.

"This man has heart like you've never seen!" Tyler screamed joyfully. "If you want to stop him, you better make sure you've killed him! Because he just. Won't. Stay down!"

Up in Seattle, Reina was conflicted. She'd squeezed the pillow so hard it burst.

She was having a heart attack. But she was also incredibly proud; all she could think was, that's my man!

The crowd was all on their feet now, shouting like they were trying to give him energy through the projection—

"Savage Sage! Savage Sage!"

But he was swaying on his feet. You could only defy the odds for so long—he looked like he was a stiff breeze away from death.

Then the biggest shadow yet loomed out of the castle.