Chapter 305 - An Old Hatred (Patreon)

Zeke sighed in relief as he trudged into the mining camp. With his stats, he shouldn’t have been so exhausted, and normally, he wouldn’t have been. However, two facets of his new circumstances seemed to wage a war against his energy levels. First, he’d spent the past two weeks trying to wrangle an entire city of sentient lizard people, organizing and guiding them to the First City, which was located in the only chamber he’d found big enough to accommodate the expanded tower.

There were others, he was certain, but they were either too far away or would require significant exploration before he might stumble across them. And the kobolds were little help, considering they had long been confined to a very well defined territory. Outside of that, they were almost entirely useless in mapping out the area. So, Zeke had been forced to usher his recently acquired followers through miles of underground tunnels and get them settled into their new home.

Fortunately, once the first group had made the journey, the process sped up significantly due to a few groups of patrolling legionnaires who had taken it upon themselves to guard the route, ensuring the safe passage of the rest of their people.

And there were a lot of kobolds.

Thousands and thousands of them, which would have been fine, had they all been capable warriors. Zeke could have certainly used an army of giant legionnaires at his disposal. However, the vast majority of them were juveniles that could barely care for their own needs, much less engage in any significant battle. One day, they might grow into a powerful army, but for now, they were little more than a burden on his resources.

Thankfully, the tower seemed well-equipped to accommodate the booming population, and in a show of just how little Zeke had explored his own domain, the kobolds had found vast fields at the base of the Artisan’s Terrace. Had they been there before? Zeke wasn’t sure. But with those, the kobolds could, perhaps, grow their own food.

It would take some trial and error, as well as an influx of seeds from the outside world, but the initial efforts by the kobold farmers to transplant the fungi and moss native to their caves had proven promising. Likely, they were equipped with skills that made such a thing possible.

Either way, it was one less thing for Zeke to worry over, and if getting the kobolds settled had been the extent of his trials, he wouldn’t have been nearly as exhausted as he felt. However, there was another factor he had yet to really consider – his attunement.

Or rather, his dependence on it.

Gaining attunement had, at first, seemed nothing but beneficial. But once Zeke had reengaged the restrictions of his slave bindings, he’d discovered just how much he’d grown to depend on that influx of attuned energy. Without it, his own reserves had quickly petered out, and he’d grown listless in the resulting fatigue.

When he’d asked Jasper about it, the dark elf had explained that those lucky enough to acquire – or be born with – an attunement had taken the first steps along the path of becoming a creature of that facet of mana. In short, Zeke’s attunement had pushed him into the domain of the earth elemental. Certainly, he wasn’t nearly as dependent on earth attuned mana as those beings, but when he was cut off from it, it was definitely noticeable.

And it highlighted something Zeke had yet to really consider – he was not immune to fatigue. Like every other living creature, he required rest, and he’d ignored that need for weeks as he organized the kobolds’ integration into the tower.

Now that he was cut off from the attuned mana, the bill for his lack of rest had come due, and now, Zeke found it difficult to even put one foot in front of the other.

At least the guards, as disinterested and apathetic as they were, didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Mining ore was exhausting work, even for the most capable among the slaves, so Zeke’s lack of energy was anything but unexpected. The only noteworthy thing about his appearance was the cart full of high-quality blood mithril he’d picked up along the way.

Over the next hour, Zeke and Jasper turned the ore in, parked their cart in the appropriate area, and then rode the elevator back up to the higher levels. By the time Zeke reached the pit fighters’ barracks, it was all he could do to stumble forward and collapse onto his cot. He was asleep in moments.

What followed was a dreamless sleep that felt like it had only lasted an instant before Eta shook him awake, saying, “It’s time.”

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Zeke muttered, “Wha…what’s going on? Time for what?”

“You have slept for two days,” she said, straightening to her full height as Zeke pushed himself upright. “You are scheduled for a fight.”

“Oh.”

“You spent too long in the mines,” she stated. “You push yourself too hard.”

Zeke shrugged. “Only way I’m getting out of here alive,” he said.

Eta shook her head. “None of us will escape this hell,” was her response. Then, she added, “Clinging to that hope will only make it more difficult.”

It was the first time Zeke had seen the dryad in such a morose state, but he didn’t have time to contemplate the reasons for her apparent depression. Instead, he needed to ready himself for his fight. So, as he climbed to his feet, he asked, “What kind of monster am I fighting today?”

“No monster.”

“What?”

“Not a monster,” she said. “The dwarves’ bloodthirst has reached a pinnacle, one which cannot be sated by a few dead monsters. Instead, you will be pitted against one of the past champions.”

Zeke ground his teeth in frustration. It was one thing to fight unintelligent monsters, but it was something else to battle a sentient being – especially without his skills or attunement. At least his opponent would be similarly restricted. And his path remained unblocked, so he still had his Will at his disposal.

Rolling his shoulders, Zeke said, “Fantastic. This place just keeps getting better and better.”

Not for the first time, Zeke wished his plans for escape had progressed a little further. But he still had things to accomplish before he could make that attempt. After all, he was there for a reason, and after spending as much time as he had pursuing those goals, he wasn’t going to cut things short.

“Any idea who I’m fighting?” he asked.

“Carbiq,” she said. “He’s…he’s an half-ogre.”

“Oh?” Zeke asked. “What’s the other half?”

“Troll.”

Zeke groaned, “I hate trolls.”

“Everyone hates trolls,” she said, her voice still emotionless. As she did, she turned to lead him out of the barracks. “Even other trolls.”

“Yeah, but my hatred runs deeper than most,” he stated, following along. He’d spent the better part of two years fighting an endless battle against the detestable creatures, so Zeke felt that he had a better reason for his hatred than most.  “Wait – so if he’s a half-ogre, that means that one of his parents…ugh. I don’t even want to think about that.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she said. Their path took them down an unfamiliar tunnel, and Eta informed him that the death matches between slaves were held in a separate arena from the ones pitting them against monsters. Apparently, they had to use one of the higher capacity coliseums to accommodate the much bigger crowds such matches drew.

After almost an hour of walking through the tunnels, during which Zeke lost track of their route, they finally reached the staging area that connected to the arena. There, Zeke finished preparing himself for the fight ahead. It was a bit disconcerting, the realization that he could take something like a death match in stride, but such had become his life. He’d been fighting life-or-death battles since being reborn, so it probably wasn’t surprising that he’d grown accustomed to fighting for his life.

Still, when he was finally escorted by a pair of burly dwarves and shoved into the arena itself, Zeke couldn’t mask his surprise.

All around him, tiered platforms circled the sandy pit. More importantly, thousands of dwarves bearing bloodthirsty expressions cheered with unabashed enthusiasm. The pit itself was about the size of a basketball court, though it was circular instead of rectangular. Once Zeke mastered his emotions, he looked across the pit to see his opponent.

Carbiq’s appearance matched his parentage, and his features seemed as if he’d gotten all the worst parts of his ancestors. Scaled skin, a thick, hulking form, and protruding tusks were the highlights, but Zeke’s vast experience with trolls told him that that was the dominant side of his family tree.

Which did not bode well, considering the trollish penchant for regeneration.

For the lower-leveled creatures he’d fought in the two years after his rebirth, their natural healing wasn’t impossible to overcome. But this was the Eternal Realm, and the creature across the pit was at least level twenty-five. Probably much higher. As such, it would be incredibly difficult to kill.

“Just great,” Zeke muttered, cracking his neck. “Why couldn’t I have followed a fire path or something?”

That would have made things much easier, given trolls’ weaknesses to the element. But then again, perhaps Carbiq’s ogre side negated that disadvantage.

Zeke was sorely tempted to simply bypass the restrictions of his bindings and utilize his skills. Because if there was one thing he felt confident in, it was his ability to win a battle of attrition, so long as he had [Metallurgical Repair] at his disposal. Without it, he knew he needed to take a very different tactic.

However, if he used any of his skills – or even his attunement – the dwarves would surely notice. And if that happened, they’d fit him with a much more powerful collar. Eventually, he could bypass that, too, but it would take precious time to do so. Time he couldn’t waste if he was going to satisfy the requirements of his quest and reunite with his friends anytime soon.

Besides, if the dwarves were forced to slap a more restrictive collar around his neck, then they would probably follow that up with unwanted scrutiny that would keep him from doing the things he needed to do. That was unacceptable.

No – Zeke needed to win the fight the hard way. He just didn’t know how he was going to accomplish that, except to just brute force it.

It was a good thing that he specialized in that kind of thing, then.

A corpulent dwarf dressed in fine robes and wearing copious jewelry stepped out into the pit, and once she reached the center, she tilted her head toward the ceiling and bellowed an introduction. Zeke hardly paid attention to it. Instead, he bounced from one foot to the next, getting his blood pumping. After a bit, the dwarven woman finished her introductions – which included both Zeke’s and Carbiq’s records, which Zeke found a bit pointless. After all, a loss meant death, so anyone who fought was, by definition, undefeated. Still, Zeke didn’t let himself focus on that. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for what he expected would be a difficult fight.

With the introductions complete, the dwarven woman left the pit via a set of stone steps that grew out of the wall, only to disappear once she’d climbed to the top. Interesting skill, if wholly expected given the dwarves propensity for mining. A skill dedicated to earth manipulation was probably the least of their abilities.

Once the dwarven announcer had reached safety, a loud gong sounded, and the fight began.

The half-ogre rumbled forward on its stout, tree-trunk legs, and Zeke did the same, moving far more quickly. Ogres were creatures built for overwhelming power, and Carbiq seemed to have inherited that facet of their nature.

Once Zeke came within range, he embraced his path of force and channeled every ounce of his Will into his charge. The half-ogre tried to stomp down on him, but he was far too nimble for that tactic to work, and he dodged without even having to divert his charge.

Then, with a shoulder tackle enhanced by his Will, Zeke hit the half-ogre’s knee. A sickening crack filled the air as the joint went in the wrong direction. Zeke kept going, and the half-ogre, who’d been thrown off balance by the unexpected maneuver, ended up staggering forward on one leg.

Zeke pivoted, then pounced on the creature’s broad back, where he wrapped one thick bicep around Cabriq’s neck. Then, he squeezed with every point of strength he possessed in an effort to strangle the half-ogre. Zeke’s reasoning was simple – no matter what kind of regenerative abilities the creature possessed, his brain still needed an oxygen. Sure, choking him out might take a while, but he would eventually lose consciousness. From that point on, Zeke only had to maintain his grip until the struggle ended.

And that’s what he did.

Of course, Cabriq didn’t take it lying down. Instead, he panicked, slamming Zeke against the pit’s walls and, after failing to dislodge him, dropped to his back, crushing Zeke against the sandy floor. But Zeke’s grip was like iron, and no matter how much Cabriq thrashed, he refused to be thrown free.

Even after the half-ogre went limp a half hour later, Zeke maintained his grip. By that point, his arms were cramping from overuse, but he wouldn’t let something so mundane affect him. Thirty minutes stretched into more than an hour, and that hour kept on going. The dwarves were clearly unhappy with the turn of events; they had come for bloodshed, not to see a human clamped onto a half-ogre’s neck. But even so, they didn’t stop the match. To them, the rules were clear – the fight would continue until one of them was dead.

Even if it took six hours.

By the time the half-ogre finally perished, Zeke had long since stopped paying attention to the passage of time. Instead, he only let himself focus on the application of Will that had allowed him to exert enough force to cut off the half-ogre’s blood flow. In that, there was some measure of peace.

When a dwarf pried Zeke’s arms away from the dead half-ogre’s neck, Zeke came back to reality, and he was greeted by a full-body cramp that seized his entire body. Instantly, his Will shattered, and he collapsed to the sand.

Suddenly, Eta was there beside him, feeding him some sort of pill. He swallowed reflexively, and a moment later, he began to feel a little better. Gradually, the knots in his muscles unwound, and he started to come back to himself.

When she saw that he’d begun his recovery, Eta said, “That was…that was interesting. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Zeke could only give her a half smile as he said, “I just decided to play into my strengths.”

“And what are those?”

“Only one, really. I’m really, really stubborn.”

That statement was greeted by confused silence that soon became a chuckle. And that chuckle evolved into a full-throated laugh. Zeke couldn’t stop himself from joining in.