Chapter 467 - A Different World (Patreon)

Traveling through the undead kingdom El’kireth made Zeke feel like a trespasser. Weeks had passed since he’d first passed into the land of the unliving, and every step had come with a cost. In a way, it reminded him of the times he’d trekked through various swamps, where everything seemed hellbent on killing him. No matter which way he turned, there was another deadly threat waiting to show him why he did not belong.

Some that had manifested were like the river monster that had injected him with that black goo, the purpose of which could not have been beneficial. Eveline thought it was trying to convert him to another one of the undead, but Zeke wasn’t so sure. Killing him was clearly part of the process, though. What happened after was more up to the environment than anything else.

Others were more insidious – like the gnats and biting flies that seemed so prevalent. They were drawn to him – or more likely, to his vital aura – and they were more than eager to feed on his living tissue. It had gotten so bad that he’d resorted to traveling only in his earthen colossus form, even though it was a little slower than even his normal human shape.

Still, he made progress, and day by day, he’d progressed deeper into what increasingly felt like enemy territory. He could endure the hardships, though. Even if it meant having to periodically return to the Crimson Springs to rid himself of the various toxins native to the wildlife, he was durable enough that they weren’t usually life-threatening.

In any case, Zeke wasn’t worried about that at the moment. Instead, his attention was wholly focused on the ongoing battle in the distance. At present, he was standing on a low rise and camouflaged by dense underbrush, so he felt confident that no one had seen him. That gave him the opportunity to study the two sides. However, no matter how closely he looked, he couldn’t really make heads or tails of the situation.

Both armies were undead, composed of various zombies – most of which were far more intact than anything he’d seen back in the Mortal Realm – wights, and pale figures that put him in mind of vampires. However, there were other flavors of undeath present as well, though Zeke had difficulty categorizing them.

The difference was that one side wore black and red, while the other wore white and aquamarine. And they were clearly intent on slaughtering one another.

It was the first time Zeke had seen two undead armies battle, and he was impressed with their durability. What would have been mortal wounds for the living were easily endured, and there seemed to be only two ways to kill them. The first was decapitation, which was always a good way to deal with any enemy, as far as Zeke was concerned. Though his normal strategy was to crush skulls rather than separate them from their bodies, he could attest to the efficacy of such a strategy.

He'd also used the second tactic, which was to pile so much damage on the enemy that their natural durability was overwhelmed.

The second option was the most popular, and for obvious reasons. Decapitation was effective enough, but managing it required a difference in power or technique that just didn’t seem common. However, in a battle between two armies, it was comparatively much simpler to simply overwhelm any opponent who was caught out in the open.

“Do you think we should step in?” he wondered.

Eveline, who’d manifested beside him, said, “You should just kill them all. Unnatural things.”

“They’re not unnatural. In fact, they’re the product of their environment. They’re just another version of an attuned race. It’s no different than a dryad like Eta.”

Indeed, Eta’s race had been guided by their attunement, the same way the undead had been molded by theirs. It wasn’t their fault that, to the living, their bodies seemed – at best – grotesque. He suspected that they didn’t feel that way about one another, though.

“It looks a lot different to me,” Eveline stated haughtily.

“There’s potential there, though. You can see that, can’t you? Can you imagine having an army of those zombies?” he mused.

“That’s not your path,” she stated.

“It could be,” he said. “I got the kobolds to follow me, didn’t I?”

“Mykaena did the heavy lifting, but yes,” Eveline answered. “However, I think it would be far more difficult with sapient beings who, need I remind you, can not venture forth from their own lands. All but the most powerful are stuck here.”

Zeke ran his hand along his rocky scalp, scratching an itch that wasn’t there. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. “So – do we just let the battle play out? Or…”

Just then, a black-armored warrior stepped forward and swung a massive scythe, sending a blade of pure death to slice through the opposing force. Another warrior – this one female, and wearing turquoise and white – summoned a blood red shield to protect those fighters nearest to her, but she could only do so much. Many of her people were sliced into ribbons.

After that, she sounded a retreat, and the group of fighters began backing away. The black-clad warriors refused to let them do so unscathed, though. And by the time the white-armored undead reached the nearby town, they’d lost more than half their numbers. However, once they passed some heretofore unseen line, an aquamarine dome manifested, cutting off further pursuit.

The scythe-wielding warrior railed against the obstruction, smashing his weapon against it with all the fury he could muster. Yet, it held, allowing the opposing army – or what was left of it, at least – to regroup.

“Well, that was a little anticlimactic,” Eveline remarked. “We should – oh, they finally noticed you.”

“Shit,” Zeke muttered as, seemingly as one, the black-clad army turned to face him. He had no idea if it was just that, now that they were no longer distracted by the battle, they’d had a chance to see him, or if it was some other factor at play. But it seemed clear that he had two options before him.

Either he could run, or he could stand and fight the people who clearly intended to attack him. The first was a bit of a non-starter, largely because every step he took through the kingdom of El’kireth was hampered by the native wildlife. Doubtless, the unliving would be able to traverse the terrain much more quickly than he could manage.

The second appealed to his sense of simplicity, though. And his pride, if he was honest. Zeke was a lot of things, but a runner simply wasn’t one of them. He would retreat if he had no other choice – or if it was strategically important – but doing so felt like rubbing sandpaper on his mind.

So, without further hesitation, Zeke summoned Voromir. The weapon had evolved during the war against Adontis, and over the past few weeks, its appearance had followed suit. Very little of the old, flanged mace remained. Instead, it looked like a proper hammer with an oversized head of some silvery metal. The bone haft – which was still carved with various runes that made it look like scrimshaw – was much the same as before, though it snaked around the hammer’s head, looking almost like a series of roots that had grown to encompass a foreign object.

To Zeke, it still felt as familiar as it had since the very beginning.

He stepped forward, ready to meet the undead charge.

“You should just use [Wrath of Annihilation] and end them all,” Eveline suggested. “It would be a net benefit to the world.”

Zeke ignored her, at least in part because he knew she was only half-serious.

“I’m really not. I’m completely serious. Kill them all. Or re-kill them.”

That wasn’t going to happen. Not only would doing so run the risk of harming Eveline and himself, but he had no intention of killing a bunch of innocent people who hadn’t attacked him. And if he used [Wrath of Annihilation], the nearby village would not survive. He knew that.

“That’s the point,” she persisted.

“Stop.”

“I’m just saying –”

Zeke tuned her out, instead focusing on the charging army arrayed before him. In only a few seconds, they’d covered a third of the distance, so it wouldn’t be long before they swept over him.

So, Zeke used his domains, [Burden of Sovereignty] and [Aura of Desolation], and the atmosphere all around him came alive with demonic corruption. It empowered him, but he knew the true benefit was that it would weaken his enemies. And given that the battle would be fought on their turf, he considered that vitally important. The only problem was that he had no allies who could take advantage of the augmentation.

Once the two domains took effect, Zeke sighted in on the scythe-wielding warrior leading the charge, then used [Center of Gravity]. The armored warrior stumbled, then shot forward like, only to be met with the head of Zeke’s hammer. Clearly, the warrior wasn’t very durable – at least compared to the foes Zeke had been fighting – because his head and most of the upper part of his torso exploded into shards of black metal, chunks of decayed flesh, and congealed blood.

The rest of the warrior went flying to the side, cartwheeling into the twisted trunk of a tree. When it came to rest, it twitched a couple of times before going still.

“Oh, that feels good,” Zeke said, basking in the wave of kill energy he’d been rewarded. It wasn’t much. Barely a drop in the ocean. But it was still better than the bits he’d gotten from the local wildlife. More, he couldn’t help but revel in his own power – at least a little. He still hadn’t reached level seventy, but he was far stronger in relation to the average person than he’d ever been.

Even the elites like the armored warrior couldn’t stand before him.

“Don’t get a big head,” Eveline said, having retreated back into his mind. “There are plenty of powerhouses out there, many of whom can and will kill you at the slightest provocation. Just because you managed to defeat someone like Lord Adontis doesn’t mean you’re unbeatable.”

“I’m aware,” he muttered.

Zeke could see the hesitation in the amassed army’s gait, but stopping such a large group of people was difficult. Still, he didn’t take the battle to them. Instead, he wanted to give them the chance to retreat if that was their desire. It was not, and they surged forward with renewed fervor.

That struck Zeke as odd, but he wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he hefted his hammer, then activated the weapon’s inherent ability before sweeping it forward. Voromir’s red-sheened projection leaped forward, smashing into the first wave of undead. The impact knocked them to the ground, crushing bones and rending flesh, and the trampling boots of their fellows finished the job.

That’s when they reached Zeke. He lashed out with one vicious hammer-strike after another, knocking the undead warriors aside. Some exploded under his strength, but others merely broke bones or had bits and pieces dislodged. It was a testament to how wide the range of their levels were that the effects were so varied.

Yet, Zeke fought on.

And he came to understand just how far beneath him they were. Their leader had been at least respectable. The rest of the army was, in a word, pathetic. Still, they were also rabidly persistent, and though it felt more unnecessary with every passing moment, the things’ refusal to back away meant that he had little choice but to destroy them right down to the last member.

Which he did, feeling at times like he was the world’s most disgusting wheat field. Horrid smells – both from the still-standing undead as well as the ones that had already fallen – hung over the battlefield, and if Zeke wasn’t already accustomed to such smells, he would have retched.

As it was, he managed to keep his stomach under control even as he turned the area around him into a charnel house. The battle didn’t last long, largely because the enemy threw themselves at him with reckless abandon. Yet, Zeke couldn’t help but feel a surge of regret at the necessity of it.

It was like fighting children.

If said children were ravenous and bitey and smelled of rot.

In the end, the battle – if it could even be called such – finished just how it had started, which was to say, anticlimactically. And even though Zeke stood amidst nearly a thousand dead and dismembered bodies, he’d barely even moved the needle of his progress toward level seventy.

It was such a waste.

But there was nothing to be done. So, over the next few minutes, Zeke waded through the piles of bodies, mentally looting each one. After all, most wore armor, and though it was all ill-suited for his people, he hoped the craftsman being nurtured would find the materials useful.

He also got more than a few bits and pieces that he found distasteful, like necrotic hearts, flayed skin, and, oddly enough, zombie toes. He didn’t envy whichever kobolds or beastkin would be tasked with cataloguing the grotesquerie that was his loot.

Finally, once he was finished, he strode forward. The moment he dropped his domains, the aura of undeath returned, and an unconscious shiver went up his spine. Zeke ignored it. He could endure a little discomfort.

Once he reached the bubble that was the shield, he hammered his fist on it like he was knocking on a door. “I don’t want in. I don’t care about whatever fight you had going on,” he rumbled in his colossal voice. “The only reason I killed those others was because they attacked me first.”

“What do you want?” came a voice from within the village. Zeke focused on the source, which was the woman wearing white-and-teal armor. She was a little taller than a human, and though she wore a helmet which hid her appearance, that was enough to peg her as some other race.

“I want a map,” he said. “What’s the easiest way to get to Darukar?”

“You wish to visit our capital city?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “You are living.”

“Yeah. I have a friend I think’s there,” he admitted. “What was that fight about? I was led to believe that this kingdom was peaceful.”

“It was,” she admitted. “Until recently. There was a schism in the government. The more…warlike among us occupy one side, while those of us who wish to remain within our borders are on the other.”

“Warlike? They want to expand?”

“Indeed, stranger,” she stated. “I caution you. If you proceed to Darukar, you will find yourself mired in battle.”

Zeke shrugged. “That’s kind of my life,” he said. “So, about that map?”

“We will give you no map. Doing so would require us to lower the shield, and –”

Zeke used his Runebreaker technique. It only required a wisp of his will, but the shield shattered before his lightest touch. The woman reacted predictably, raising her sword.

“Sorry. I don’t have time for this,” Zeke lied. “I just want to find my friend. I don’t care about you or your kingdom. So – give me the map, and I’ll be on my way.”

Left unsaid was the threat inherent in his actions. The warrior knew that if he wanted to, Zeke could do the same to her force as he’d done to the one they’d only recently been fighting. And given that they’d been forced to retreat, it probably would have been even easier.

“Very well,” she said. “We will fetch you a map.”

“Good. Glad someone can be reasonable,” Zeke said.