Death: Genesis

The hammer fell with inevitable finality, crushing a mighty Knight of the Radiant Host into nothing. Zeke felt a wave of kill energy sweep through him, announcing the Knight’s death. With that confirmation of his victory, his shoulders sagged and he looked around. Hundreds of Knights lay dead all around him, each one crushed beneath the weight of his hammer.

“I almost forgot the smell,” he said aloud.

Eveline asked, “This is far from the worst battlefield you’ve seen of late.”

“But I usually use skills. Ash and smoke smells a lot better than voided bowels and blood,” he said.

Indeed, it was easy to rely on his overbearing skills in battle. With a single use of [Eye of Reckoning], [Storm of Hammers], or even [Hell Geyser], he could absolutely obliterate his foes. Never mind what [Unleash Momentum] or the much more destructive [Wrath of Annihilation] could do. So, lately, he’d made it a focus to enter the Hunting Grounds, just so he could keep his martial abilities sharp.

It was only marginally effective. The Hunting Grounds could pit him against any of his previous foes, but the fact was that the Crimson Tower, for all its power, couldn’t give him a good fight. He’d taken to battling against hundreds of foes just to work up a sweat, and even that was only marginally taxing.

“You’ve outgrown this realm,” Eveline said. “Perhaps you crossed that threshold twenty levels ago. You will find few challenges in the Eternal Realm, and most of those who can rival your power would choose not to.”

“Are they cowards?”

“They covet their positions atop this small hill, fearing to climb the mountain in the distance,” she said.

“Big fish in a small pond.”

“Indeed. So, when they see someone like you, they tend to get out the way, assuming that you will ascend in good time,” she said. “That won’t remain true if you threaten their little spheres of influence, but so long as you don’t step on any toes, your path to the next realm should be clear.”

“Not until I finish what I started here,” he said.

“Well, you’ve got five levels to work with,” Eveline pointed out. “With how much kill energy that will require, you’ll have plenty of time to get everything you want done. I would also recommend upgrading any skills you want to upgrade before you head into the demon realm.”

“Why? I can just do it there. Or in the pit. From what you’ve told me, it’s basically a realm of its own,” Zeke said. Eveline hadn’t told him much about the Pit that separated the circles of hell – because her knowledge of such things was severely lacking – but she had explained that it was something like a pseudo-realm that was rumored to take years to traverse. Her own experience going from Mal’araxis to Mal’canus had taken months, and she’d claimed that it was a transformative experience.

“I would be very surprised if you have the chance,” she said. “You won’t be able to retreat into the tower to rest. It’s a challenge meant to test everything about you. That means you’ll be pushed to your absolute limits in a way you’ve never experienced. The few tales we have of the pit are enough that only the strongest demons ever attempt to descend.”

Left unsaid that if a demon reached level one-hundred and unlocked the opportunity to descend, they were already among the strongest in the realm. No weak person ever reached the peak. At that point, they’d all experienced their fair share of lucky encounters and stood head-and-shoulders above everyone else.

No – even once Zeke had reached the appropriate level, his descent through the pit would be wrought with enough dangers that even surviving would be difficult. It would remain to be seen if Eveline was right about not being able to do anything else, but Zeke was inclined to trust her judgement.

With that Zeke cancelled the Hunting Grounds’ simulation, and he was immediately returned to the lobby. It had grown into something truly impressive. Before, it had been a fairly simple affair, but now, the floor comprised dozens of training chambers just like the one he’d just occupied. In addition, the lobby itself was an expansive arena where his people could engage in drills, both large and small in scale. They also held tournaments where individuals were pitted against one another.

“I hope you don’t take this place for granted,” Eveline said as Zeke looked at the training army. “I have never heard of anything like this. Nothing even close. The death prevention is enough to make it wholly unique, but the fact that it seems to have grown according to the army’s needs…the Crimson Tower is truly a wonderous construct.”

Eveline had told him that even she had heard of the Crimson Tower, but it was a thing of myths and legends. Apparently, the reality far exceeded even the stories she’d heard.

Idly, Zeke massaged the place on his chest where the tattoo had been placed. Even with all the damage he’d endured, it was still there and just as prominent as ever. In fact, he felt more connected to the tower than at any other time, perhaps because he’d been spending so much time inside.

After watching the army for a few minutes, Zeke shrugged his shoulders and headed back to the manor, where he took a while to clean himself up. Then, he went to the Pillar, though he dreaded what he knew he was going to hear.

“I am sorry, Ak-toh,” Silik said. “They have found no trace of the necromancer. The Radiant Host continues to retreat, refusing to meet us in open battle. Instead, they scatter when we draw close.”

“Have they continued to raid the centaurs settlements?” Zeke asked.

“They have,” the kobold general answered.

Zeke gripped the table until his knuckles went white. He’d fought in a few wars and countless battles, but he’d never really found himself playing defense. Instead, he’d always been the aggressor, and he was just beginning to understand how much more he preferred that role.

Theoretically, defending was an advantageous position, especially if they could choose their ground. However, it also meant that they were tied to that one location because if they abandoned it, then their enemies would be free to do whatever they wished. In this case, they would slaughter the centaurs who, while they weren’t technically Zeke’s people, were staunch allies. He didn’t want to abandon them, so he’d been forced to deploy his army defensively.

It was a purpose to which they were ill-suited and for which they had been unprepared. It wasn’t their fault, and they’d since endeavored to learn new tactics. But it would be some time before they managed to become as adept at defense as they were with more aggressive methods.

“Are you thinking about them? Or yourself?” asked Eveline.

Zeke didn’t answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

In any case, he listened to their reports, and he was at least pleased to find that they weren’t actually losing many people. Rather, the Knights of the Radiant Host had mostly attacked centaurs, and even then, only to disrupt what they thought were the Crimson Tower’s supply lines.

In reality, they only managed to keep the young kobolds from hunting the comparatively lower level monsters of the plains. The only thing they’d disrupted was the development of the Crimson Tower’s young. An issue, to be sure, but not an urgent one.

“They’re more like pests than actual threats,” he muttered.

“That is true,” said Jasper. “However, I should point out that we have only seen a tiny fraction of their forces. If they come to war – truly and completely – we will be hard pressed to match them. Even in Tesh, we know better than to fight a war against those zealots.”

“Your people have dealt with them before?” Zeke asked.

“Once. Centuries before I was even born, they attempted a crusade against dark elves,” the Troubadour answered. “They pushed us back to Tesh, where we finally ceased our infighting, banded together, and retaliated. It took another decade before they were banished from our lands. We pursued them all the way back to their little corner of the world, and they have left us alone since. That conflict is the reason that, in times of war, my people abandon all personal enmities in favor of common defense. It is the only time they will work together. I suppose we owe them that, at least, even if they murdered thousands of my people before we could repel their attacks.”

“You’re saying that if we meet them in battle with their full army behind them, we won’t win?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. But I will say that if you’re not with us when that happens – and I think it’s inevitable at this point – we will lose terribly,” Jasper stated.

“I see.”

“And I believe you need to reach the peak before that happens,” the dark elf added.

“Are they so powerful?” Kianma asked, an expression of surprise on her face. Sometimes, it was difficult to read the emotions of the kobolds, but over time, Zeke had learned to do so.

“I think so,” Jasper answered. “A group like that will have multiple old masters at the peak. Perhaps as many as a dozen. And they’ll be strong, even for their levels.”

“But not so strong to ascend,” Zeke pointed out. But had they remained in the Eternal Realm out of a sense of duty? Or were they truly afraid to start over from the bottom of the next plane of existence? It was a good question, but it was one Zeke didn’t think he’d ever get the answer to. It wasn’t as if he was going to sit down for a conversation with any of them.

“Except your former lover,” Eveline said. “You wouldn’t kill her before you gave her a chance to explain herself, would you?”

“I…I don’t know,” Zeke admitted.

It was a good question. Abby had clearly been in a position of some authority within the Radiant Host, but she hadn’t been seen since her encounter with Talia. Had she abandoned them? Or was she simply laying low? More, if she was in charge – or held a high rank within that force – was she then responsible for what her troops had done? They’d lost almost every major battle, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t killed quite a few kobolds.

But more than anything, Zeke wondered how the woman he’d known could belong to a faction that, according to all the evidence he’d seen, was evil. They weren’t just bigoted, xenophobic, and warlike. They were those things, but they also seemed to take pleasure in killing anyone that wasn’t like them. Whether those differences were rooted in species, ethnicity, or religion – or any number of other factors – it didn’t matter. If they weren’t part of the Radiant Host, or one of their subservient vassals, then they weren’t really people.

That doctrine was core to who they were.

And Abby hadn’t just joined that force, but she’d climbed the ranks. That suggested that she was either a true believer or that she had fooled them into believing that she was. Either way, she’d clearly done horrible things in service of her new masters, and Zeke struggled to rationalize how she could ever go down that road.

“Power.”

“What?” he asked inwardly.

“Power. That’s usually the answer,” Eveline said. “Or maybe they gave her something she wasn’t able tog et elsewhere. Acceptance, perhaps. They might not have given her a real choice in the matter, either.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“But if your options are death or following an evil master, which would you choose?” Eveline asked.

“The third option. I’d fight back.”

“Everyone doesn’t have that in them, Ezekiel,” Eveline said.

He was going to respond, but chose not to. He knew that few people would choose to fight against overwhelming odds. That was common sense. Most would run. Others would capitulate. But that just wasn’t how Zeke was built, and he’d never even consider giving up. Especially when it would mean surrendering to people like the ones who made up the Radiant Host.

“What will you do?” asked Jasper.

Zeke shook his head. “We need to force them to fight,” he said. “I don’t want to chase them across this continent, getting attacked every mile we travel. I want to take the fight to them. I want to invade the Imperium.”

It was an idea that had been marinating in the back of his mind ever since he’d recovered from the campaign against Micayne’s undead. He and his army weren’t suited for defense, so they wouldn’t do that. If needs be, he would pick up the Crimson Tower so the Radiant Host wouldn’t have anywhere to attack.

“Except your army, which is what you want.”

“Exactly.”