Chapter 309 - The Cost of Power (Patreon)

Zeke knocked the trident aside, countering with a front kick that only sent the mer-demon sliding back a couple of feet. As creatures that seemed to swim through the air itself, the Nikapa had a curious relationship with gravity and momentum that kept some of his heavier blows from truly affecting the creatures. Against most other foes, that kick would have been sufficient to send them flying a dozen yards away, but with the mer-demons, it was wholly ineffective as anything more than a stalling tactic.

The fish-demon slithered through the air, twisting around and aiming another trident strike at Zeke’s torso. It landed, but to Zeke’s surprise, the attack was turned aside by a combination of a timely dodge and the sturdy material of his leather cuirass.  Even so, the weapon’s tines dug a sizable groove in the sturdy armor.

Hefting his club and spinning away, Zeke used the momentum of his near-dodge into a backhanded swing that harnessed every point of his strength. The Nikapa saw it coming and, in a display of its control over gravity, jetted high into the air; the swinging club missed its fish-like tail by inches, and when Zeke’s wild attack found nothing but air, he was thrown off balance by the force of his own actions.

The trident came again, piercing through the much thinner armor on his back and into his flesh. It only went a quarter of an inch, but that slight twinge of pain awakened a fury Zeke had rarely felt before. In the back of his mind, he knew that the cause was external, but in his anger, he couldn’t be bothered to care. Strength surged through him as he whipped around and, as had become his habit, leaped high into the air.

Raising the club in a two-handed, overhand strike, he enhanced his weight and brought the brutish weapon down with unimaginable and irresistible force. Seeing inevitability looming before it, the Nikapa raised its trident in a horizontal block supported by both clawed hands, but even it knew the act was completely pointless. When the club landed, two things happened.

First, the trident shattered into a thousand pieces, the resulting shrapnel tearing into the stunned mer-demon’s scaly body. Second, Zeke’s club split and splintered into a dozen pieces. But there was still enough of the weapon left to take the mer-demon in the face. As the Nikapa rocketed into the ground, the remnant of Zeke’s club was entirely destroyed in a cloud of exploding splinters.

Then, Zeke landed upon the fallen mer-demon like a meteor.

The ground erupted into a cloud of black sand, and a shockwave tore through the area, cracking nearby coral and throwing the slower mer-demon raiders back. Meanwhile, the Nikapa took a knee to the face that instantly rendered its head into a mass of shattered bone, pulverized flesh, and black blood.

Zeke didn’t stop to admire his handiwork. Instead, he wheeled around and, upon seeing the other stunned mer-demons, launched himself in the group’s direction. The atmosphere churned, and more power flooded into him, strengthening him far beyond his normal limits. A torrent of demonic energy tore through his body as he exploded into motion.

The off-balance group of Nikapa had little chance to brace for his charge, but a few managed to bring their tridents to bear. They jabbed forward, expecting Zeke to dodge or block, but he couldn’t be bothered with tactics or technique. Not with more demonic energy flowing into him with every passing instant.

The weapons tore into his flesh, but the resulting shallow wounds were inconsequential. Charging into the fray, he laughed at their pitiful attacks. Then, he fell upon the stunned mer-demons, and to predictable results.

His every punch sent one of the creatures flying away, shattering bones and the nearby corral alike. And all the while, the demonic power continued to tear through him. It hurt, of course – but with his pain resistance as well as well-earned experience in dealing with such things, Zeke easily ignored it.

Besides, he was far too focused on destroying the creatures that had dared to attack him. They fought back, and vehemently, but it soon became clear that they were no match for the juggernaut in their midst.

Vaguely, Zeke became aware of the other slaves having joined the battle. After all – there were hundreds of attackers, and no matter how strong he became, he couldn’t stop them all.

Not in his current incarnation, at least.

But he was more than willing to try.

At some point, the raid became a rout, and the mer-demons disengaged, swimming up and through the air until they were well out of range. They didn’t stop there, though. Instead, the Nikapa continued their flight until they’d disappeared far into the distance.

Naturally, Zeke ran after them.

Or at least he started to, but he was cut short by a firm hand latching around his arm. He’d maintained enough awareness to differentiate friend from foe – barely – so, when he wheeled around to confront whoever dared impede him, Zeke was able to stop himself before aiming a devastating punch at Eefik.

The orcish man was covered in blood, his huge axe was chipped in a couple of places, and a fiery fury burned in his eyes. But he was in complete control as he shouted, “Stop! You go out there, and they’ll tear you to pieces!”

That’s when Zeke started to come back to himself. In the absence of battle – brief as it was – the demonic influence had begun to ebb. But still, he was more than a little annoyed at having his intended pursuit cut short. So, he growled, “They’re weak! I can –”

“Those were weak,” Eefik pointed out. “The others are not.”

“What others?”

“If you chase them, you’re going to run into an ambush,” Eefik explained. “These Nikapa, they’re smart. Really smart. They use traps. They ambush us. Believe me, they want you to follow. Don’t play into their hands.”

“But –”

Eefik released him, adding, “Or go. Die. I’m half tempted to do so myself, if just to end this…this…life. The point is that I’m not going to stand in your way.”

“You already did.”

“You get one, kid,” Eefik said, holding up one meaty finger. “One save. After that, you’re on your own. Got it? So, run after them. Die. As I said – as a rule, I’ll only step in once.”

Over the brief conversation, the flow of demonic energy had slowed to a trickle, and with that cessation came a degree of clarity. He was aware enough of his mental state to recognize that he was still far more aggressive than normal, but that awareness gave him the ability to resist the effects.

“Fine,” Zeke said, jerking away. “We fought of the raid, and that’s all that matters.”

Eefik narrowed his eyes, then said, “Now, we need to talk about the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“The one where your skin just turned colors,” Eefik said. “And your eyes.”

Zeke looked down at his exposed arm, and he wasn’t really surprised to see that it was covered in black tendrils. More, the paler portions that hadn’t been infected by the dark veins had taken on a red sheen.

“What color are my eyes?” he asked.

“Gold,” Eefik answered. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a demon.”

Zeke sighed. “Well, shit,” he muttered, looking around. The other slaves were staring at him. And it wasn’t really surprising. Not only had he displayed power far above what was normal for someone of his level, but now he’d taken on some demonic characteristics. Fortunately, he could see the black tendrils retreating, and his normal complexion had begun to return. Still, the damage was done.

“What are you?” asked Eefik, his grip noticeably tightening on his axe. Zeke had no idea what level the part-orc had attained, but he’d seen enough of Eefik’s strength to know that a fight wouldn’t be easy to win.

And there were dozens of other slaves ready to join in.

Zeke embraced his runecrafting path and wrapped his awareness around the lynchpin that held the restrictions of his collar and manacles in place. Then, he shattered the corresponding glyph, freeing his various abilities.

“Something unique,” he said. “It’s a long story, but I’m no danger to you.”

Eefik sighed, then massaged his prominent brow as he said, “I believe that. I really do. But I’m not really in charge here. They might follow my lead, but out here…nothing controls the others.”

“What are you saying?” Zeke asked.

“That I shouldn’t have stopped you from chasing those Nikapa.”

Zeke understood Eefik’s meaning. Or perhaps it was the context provided by the other slaves’ expressions that gave it away. Regardless, it said one thing: he was no longer one of them.

Disappointing as that realization was, it made some sense. After all, most of them had spent more than one stint in the demon realm. Some of them had been wounded while others had lost companions. None looked upon demonkind with anything approaching understanding.

“What if I tried to explain?” Zeke asked.

“We all felt it,” Eefik said. “The corruption clings to you. I don’t know what you are, but it doesn’t matter. All they’ll see is demon.”

“I see.”

With that, Zeke summoned Voromir to hand. Eefik didn’t react, but the same couldn’t be said of the other slaves. As they mob’s fear and anger wafted over him, Zeke embraced his attunement, dragging earthen energy into his body. It wasn’t as potent as it had been back in the mines, and it certainly couldn’t compare to the sheer volume of demonic energy he’d just experienced – but he hoped it would make enough of a difference.

He then embraced his martial path of force, using his will to further enhance his body. As he stood there, Zeke was like a coiled spring, ready to erupt into motion at the slightest provocation. Still, he wasn’t resigned to the inevitability of a battle, so he asked, “What if I can help you? I can remove those collars. I can give you access to your skills.”

Eefik’s stoic demeanor crumbled before that revelation. “You…you can do that?” he asked.

“I can. But –”

That’s when the other slaves decided to attack, and they did so with unmitigated aggression. It was as if they’d suddenly found a traitor in their midst – and in a way, they had; Zeke wasn’t a full demon, but that clearly wasn’t how they saw it. Did they think he was an imposter? A plant? How did that even make sense?

But as with most mobs, they weren’t precisely reasonable. They were out for blood, and they didn’t intend to let something so inconsequential as logic drive them from their chosen path. So, they attacked with howling ferocity.

Unfortunately, they were all hamstrung by their lack of skills while Zeke had no such handicap. In the space of an instant, he swung his mace, using [Unleash Momentum] at the apex of the swing. The resulting explosion of force took the mob head-on, sending them flying back with unparalleled force.

None – save for Eefik, who’d barely dodged to the side – were spared. A few were killed outright, ripped into pieces by the sheer application of Zeke’s stored momentum. Others were merely injured.

In the aftermath of the explosion of force, Zeke considered leaping into the fray and finishing the job, but pity stayed his hand. Or perhaps he simply didn’t want to chance losing control again. Either way, he titled his head toward Eefik, pointed Voromir in the part-orc’s direction, and said, “Don’t. Just…don’t. I don’t want to kill you, too.”

Eefik released his grip on his axe and raised his empty hands in surrender. The man knew he didn’t stand a chance against Zeke. Regardless of stats, the fact that Zeke had access to his skills while Eefik did not was enough to make all the difference. Certainly, if there had been a huge disparity in natural power, perhaps Eefik could have overcome the lack of skills. However, Zeke had already proven that not only did he possess considerable might that far exceeded his level, he’d shown an ability to augment his strength with the demonic atmosphere. The result was that Eefik probably knew – on an instinctual level, if not a conscious one – that, given his restrictions, he stood little chance against a fully powered Zeke.

“I told you I didn’t want to fight,” the part-orc stated.

“So you did,” Zeke acknowledged, but he didn’t lower his hammer. By that point, Voromir had completely transformed; it maintained its crude, almost barbaric appearance, but it had fully become a hammer, leaving its past as a mace behind. Zeke suspected that if he used [Inspection] on the weapon, its name would have changed as well. Not that he could spare the time to do so.

He had a decision to make.

He could kill the other slaves, then retreat to the dwarven stronghold. Doing so would require that he lie and say that his companions had been slain by a mer-demon raid, but the dwarves were unlikely to investigate further than asking him a couple of questions. He could use their apathy as a shield.

But that wasn’t a path he could choose, and for a variety of reasons. Not only were there numerous ways it could go wrong, but it also felt fundamentally wrong. Zeke rarely concerned himself with questions of morality. Usually, he reacted to situations based on necessity and instinct. However, when confronted with the opportunity to choose his own route, one thing became absolutely certain: Zeke simply couldn’t bring himself to murder dozens of relatively innocent – if misguided – people in cold blood. Not when there was another option.

So, he hesitated for only a moment before he let out a sigh and turned in the direction of the pillar. Ever since he’d seen it, that grotesque column had pulled at his consciousness. He’d justified it by telling himself that it was the most likely place for him to find the last piece of his quest, but he knew there was more to it than that. Was it the demonic half of his nature? Or was it something else? He didn’t know, but from the moment he’d laid eyes on the pillar, he had known it would be his eventual destination. Now, it seemed that the choice had been made for him.

“Don’t let them come after me,” Zeke said, glancing toward Eefik, who still hadn’t moved. “If they follow, I’ll have to kill the rest of them.”

Then, without another word, Zeke strode off into the forest of coral, once again alone. That seemed to have become a theme for him. Not for the first time, he wished he had the company of his friends. It was easy to underestimate the value of companionship – at least until confronted with persistent loneliness. Zeke had experienced that multiple times, so he would never take his friends for granted.

But he couldn’t shy away from solitude, either. Whatever else happened, there were some things he needed to do alone.