Chapter 298 - Colossal Legion (Patreon)

Zeke dodged to the left before darting in and hammering his fist into the face of the monster. At the most basic level, the monster resembled a toad, though its skin was covered in pebbles, and it had the uncanny ability to manipulate rock. Fortunately, it couldn’t do so without significant concentration – the rock toad was an ambush predator, after all – so it moved incredibly sluggishly, allowing Zeke free reign to pummel it into submission.

Of course, the toad was only one of a half-dozen monsters in the pit, so he couldn’t afford to take the time to completely finish it off. Instead, he could only chance a few thunderous punches before he was forced to move on. Even then, he took a couple of solid blows from the other combatants before he could disengage. Still, by the time he did turn his sights on another target, the rock toad was mostly out of commission. It would recover in time, but for now, it was out of the fight.

So, when Zeke’s eyes alighted on a fiery salamander that reminded him of the creatures he’d fought on the shores of the cursed Lake of Flames, he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that he couldn’t take the time to do things properly. Instead, he had to hop out of the way of a jet of liquid flame – those salamanders were incredibly dangerous, even to him – before leaping in with a flying knee that shattered its skull into a million pieces.

At least that one went down fairly easily.

Zeke suspected his good fortune wouldn’t continue as the fight escalated.

He’d been a pit fighter for a little more than a month, and in that time, he’d fought on almost two dozen occasions. Most had pitted him against groups of monsters who made their homes in the mines below, but a couple of times, he’d been forced to fight powerful, singular entities. Once, he’d even gone toe-to-toe with a kobold legionnaire.

Without his skills – and with the legionnaire having been disarmed – that fight had progressed far differently than his first few clashes with the huge lizard people. It still had access to its beam attack, but by that point, Zeke was experienced enough to recognize the wind-up, so it was easily avoided. Still, that had been one of his toughest bouts, but he’d managed a narrow victory by channeling his Will into a series of thunderous blows that left the massive kobold battered and broken. After that, killing it had been tedious but easy enough that it didn’t give him too much trouble.

The crowd of dwarves surrounding the pit roared as Zeke finished off another monster – a tentacled creature that resembled nothing so much as a jelly fish – by grabbing its tendrils and ripping it asunder. Those tentacles were venomous, so the act left him gasping in pain, but he was well versed in dealing with such a thing. It wasn’t pleasant, but he could deal with it well enough. Certainly, a little bit of pain wasn’t going to keep him from doing what he had to do.

Finally, Zeke found himself facing off against the very last monster. It was humanoid, and in some ways, it reminded Zeke of the cavemen he’d read about in history class way back in elementary school. Heavy brows, deep-set eyes, and posture that seemed simian in nature, it was called a troglodyte. However, it had a couple of key differences that separated it from anything approaching humanity.

For one, it sported a shell reminiscent of a tortoise’s, though it bore jagged spikes of sharp rock. For another, as a denizen of the deepest parts of the mine, where light rarely made an appearance, its skin was maggoty white, with huge, bat-like ears. To say it was an ugly creature would have been a vast understatement.

But then again, if it was capable of sapience – which Zeke doubted, based on its bestial demeanor – it probably thought the same thing of him. Either way, it was a dangerous monster, and one Zeke needed to take it seriously.

After all, it certainly wouldn’t let him live if it got the upper hand. Though the pit fights often didn’t feel like it, they were just as dangerous as fighting in the wild. If he got in trouble, the dwarves weren’t going to step in. In fact, given how he’d seen them react when others had fallen prey to their opponents, they’d probably cheer all the louder. It was the only thing that seemed to pull the dwarves out of their apathy, if only for the few minutes it took for the fights to finish.

No – it was a fight to the death, and he needed to treat it as such.

So, Zeke slowly stepped forward. The pit wasn’t huge – barely more than a hundred feet across – but it was big enough that it took a couple of seconds for him to draw into range. The troglodyte kept its back to the wall, clearly hoping to limit Zeke’s options of approach. But it didn’t matter. Zeke wasn’t some agility-focused fighter who would try to flank his opponents. Instead, his style was generally straightforward. Sure, he would feint and dodge, but his preference was to simply charge his opponents and deal with them with as little fuss as possible.

Which was what he did.

Kicking off the sand-covered ground, he rushed forward with deceptive speed. With his incredible strength, he could move very quickly in short bursts; it was only when he tried to maintain that speed that his comparatively lower agility came into play. But in the confines of the pit, even that short burst was enough to put the troglodyte on its back foot.

It tried to react, turning so that its shell would take the brunt of the damage. Zeke was fine with that, and his fist came crashing down with the force of an avalanche, shattering the rocky exterior layer into thousands of pebbles that went flying into the air in a cloud of dust. His fist didn’t stop until it hit the much harder bone beneath, but even then, he heard the telltale sound of a crack.

For its part, the tortoise shelled troglodyte could never hope to stand up to that much force, and the heavy blow sent it flying diagonally into the wall, where the much softer flesh of the front of its body collided with the rocky wall with horrible force. Pink blood misted as the jagged stone cut into its body, but to its credit, the troglodyte recovered quickly. When it turned to face Zeke again, it was covered in blood.

Zeke didn’t let up, though. He couldn’t – not if he wanted a decisive victory. So, he rushed forward, and once again, the troglodyte was too slow to react. This time, Zeke followed a punch with a vicious stomp on the monster’s exposed foot. The sound of shattering bone filled the air as the monster stumbled to its knees.

Weakly, the troglodyte fought against the inevitable, but a few more blows sent it careening into unconsciousness. A couple more after that ended its life.

The crowd of callous dwarves cheered, loving every brutal second that left Zeke alone and unchallenged as the unmitigated victor. For his part, Zeke found the whole thing disgusting. He had no issues with fighting monsters. Far from it. In fact, he was self-aware enough to recognize that he considered fighting increasingly powerful creatures to be one of life’s great joys. There was just something about the primal nature of such a contest that excited him to no end – especially when he came out on top.

However, the pit fights just hit differently. They seemed so cruel in their contrived nature. And the dwarves’ love of all that death and destruction made it all worse.

Of course, his judgement was colored by the knowledge of their history. And of how they’d been corrupted by the demonic forces. What would Fáinn think of their actions? Would he lament their changed nature? Would he look upon them as the abominations they had become?

Likely, the dwarven king would have tried to save his people. Folly, as far as Zeke could tell. They’d fallen so far, and there was no coming back. Zeke wasn’t so naïve that he would even attempt such a thing. But then again, they weren’t his people. As much as he might empathize with their plight, they were still strangers.

With his enemies defeated, Zeke was allowed to climb out of the pit and escorted to a chamber that served as something of a staging area for the fighters. Like him, most were battered and bloody – even Eta was coated in sap as her body of twisted roots healed itself – but some clearly hadn’t fought yet.

Some of the pit fighters enjoyed watching the others fight, though even their bloodthirst paled in comparison to the dwarves’. But Zeke had no interest in that. Instead, he wanted nothing more than to head back to one of the meditation chambers so he could continue his work on his skill. The fights were a necessary interruption – without them, he’d never have gotten the use of the meditation chambers – but the necessity still rankled on his nerves.

Even in the best of times, it was annoying, but with his efforts so close to reaching fruition, it was doubly irritating.

But the fights served multiple purposes, not least of which that he had no way to get out of them. Like it or not, he was still a slave, and unless he wanted to escape down into the depths, he had no choice but to do what the dwarves wished of him. In his case, that was fighting in the pits.

The second reason he participated without complaint was because he’d learned that the expeditions into the demon realm were often populated by fighters who’d proved themselves in the pits. That meant the easiest route to gaining the materials he needed for his quest was to keep doing what he was doing, regardless of how distasteful he found it.

The final reason he’d gone along with it without much complaint lay in the meditation chambers themselves. At first glance, he’d thought they were simple chambers that had been carved into the surrounding rock. However, it only took a few hours for him to realize the truth of the matter; they were equipped with subtle runes that aided in concentration. As such, his efforts at runecrafting had proven much more effective than they otherwise would have been. Without the focus-aiding rune formations, Zeke would have never accomplished so much.

There were other benefits to be had – most notably, what Eta and the others referred to as cultivation resources. As far as Zeke could tell, they were natural treasures meant to enhance someone’s attunement or the connection they had with their paths. To him, such things felt suspiciously like shortcuts, and he’d yet to acquire any.

After all, he’d gotten as far as he had based on his own efforts. He didn’t need a pebble of earth-shaping or force lotus to accomplish his goals. He just needed to fight and explore.

Or maybe he was just being naïve. Eta thought so. So did Feran. But Zeke had so far managed to stick to his principles. Perhaps that would change going forward, but for now, he intended to keep doing what he was doing.

If it wasn’t broken, there was no point in trying to fix it, after all.

As he waited for the other fighters to finish their turns in the pit, Zeke sat in a nearby corner and turned his attention inward. It wasn’t as effective as it would have been in one of the meditation chambers, but it was better than nothing. Plus, it helped to train his perception so that he wouldn’t always need something like the meditation chamber in order to accomplish his goals.

Once he’d sufficiently isolated his mind, Zeke dove into the runes he’d been working on for weeks. The foundation had been laid, which was the most time-consuming part, and he’d begun to build a scaffolding of symbols and glyphs from which the rest of the formation would branch. While the base was easily the most important part, filling in the details was equally necessary. On top of that, it was a tedious process that required absolute concentration and perfect precision. One mistake, and the results would be catastrophic for the resulting skill. Of particular difficulty was balancing the mana consumption with the desired results, and he’d gone back and forth trying to walk the line that separated success from disaster.

But he wasn’t making any changes right now. Instead, Zeke only wanted to inspect the previous session’s work. So, over the next couple of hours, Zeke sat cross-legged in his corner, going over his efforts with a metaphorical fine-toothed comb.

There were some mistakes, but not nearly as many as he’d expected to find. His constant focus had begun to pay off, and his runecrafting skill had jumped by leaps and bounds over what he’d managed before his ascension. Still, Zeke knew enough to recognize just how far he still had to go. He was a long way from mastery. In fact, he often still felt like a novice. So, there was plenty of room for improvement.

But for now, he had what he needed to accomplish his goals by finishing the skill. Once that was done, he could fully focus on improving himself in other ways while he worked toward gaining access to the materials he needed to complete his quest.

After the fights were finished, Eta shook him from his meditation and, along with the other pit fighters who’d managed to survive, they made their way back to their base of operations. Once there, Zeke took a few minutes to eat before he once again retreated to the meditation chambers.

It was time for the final push, and he didn’t want to waste any time on frivolity.

After finding an unoccupied chamber, Zeke took a moment to seal it off. Then, he deactivated his restrictive shackles and collar before summoning one of the bronze golems. It barely fit within the chamber, but that wasn’t terribly important. Instead, Zeke was only concerned with the thing’s construction. A master runesmith had built the living statue, and Zeke had been working to incorporate that nameless crafter’s efforts into his own skill.

His study had often veered into frustration, but his persistence had paid off in the form of understanding. It would be a long time before Zeke could comprehend the entire motivating structure, but he’d come to understand enough that he could integrate that collection of runes into his own work.

All it took was time. And patience. And a few leaps of logic that, so far, had worked out.

But now that he was on the home stretch, Zeke felt a tinge of doubt. If he’d miscalculated even a little, the skill would be useless. Even if it didn’t turn out to be harmful – which was a little optimistic, even for him – it would take months to unravel the errors and rebuild from scratch.

Plus, his previous experience in tampering with skills loomed large in Zeke’s mind. He’d been incredibly lucky that [Armor of the Colossus] hadn’t been more harmful and even more fortunate that his class choice had undone his mistakes. He’d gotten off light in that he only had to do a quest – even one as difficult as what he’d gotten – to keep that skill moving forward.

Zeke pushed his doubts aside. Focusing on that wouldn’t do him any good. The choice of {Arcane Colossus} meant that, even if his new skill turned out perfectly, he’d just have to go through the process again when he reached level forty. Learning how to make the most of the opportunity would be key to maximizing his power, and he couldn’t afford to let doubts cloud his efforts.

For hours, Zeke studied the runes and made more tweaks. At some point, he took a break for food, but it wasn’t long before he was back in the meditation chamber. He was so focused that he barely even noted the passage of days. Instead, he worked until he was forced to take a break, either due to a need for rest, sustenance, or bodily needs. He was like a man possessed, and he sank the entirety of his mind into the task at hand.

And it bore fruit on the fourth day – two before he would be forced into the pits again – when he finally slotted the final glyph into place. A cursory inspection told Zeke that everything was in order, but still, he took almost an entire day to subject the runic structure to a far more detailed review. But no matter how closely he looked, he saw nothing but perfection.

Of course, that conclusion was colored by his own perception. If his plan was flawed, the issues wouldn’t present themselves until he finalized the formation and integrated it into his pathways.

“No time like the present,” he muttered to himself, his voice sounding hoarse from disuse. Or perhaps lack of water. How long had it been since he’d had a drink? Hours? Days? He had no idea. But it just wasn’t important enough to garner more than a few stray thoughts. Instead, he refocused on the rune formation that he hoped would become his newest skill.

Finally, Zeke pushed the structure into place and spent another few hours connecting it to his mana channels. It wasn’t a difficult task, but it was tedious enough to test his patience. Still, he refused to rush. Even when the rune started vibrating with unrestrained power, he merely clamped down with his awareness and forced it back to stillness.

The thing was packed with enough mana that it had basically become a bomb. That pressure would be relieved once the connections were completed, but for now, the mana had nowhere to go. So, Zeke was forced to expend quite a bit of his focus on keeping it in check. By the time he reached the end of the process, he had a raging headache that cut right through his pain tolerance.

But that was expected, so he ignored it.

Even when blood started running down his nose and leaking from his ears, Zeke persisted until, finally, he made the last connection.

Suddenly, the pressure dissipated, and he held his breath as he watched the mana flow freely through the structure. And to his enormous relief, everything went perfectly. There were a few sticking points within the structure, but it only took a couple of slight adjustments to alleviate the pressure. He’d always known that would happen; his runecrafting skill had grown by leaps and bounds, but he still couldn’t perfectly predict mana flow issues. However, no big problems presented themselves, and soon enough, Zeke was rewarded with a notification:

Congratulations! You have constructed your first skill, [Colossal Legion].

Zeke couldn’t muster the energy to smile, but he was filled with relief nonetheless. Then, he passed out from the strain that had been building within him.