Chapter 469 - A City in Conflict (Patreon)

The next week was more of the same.  Zeke was continuously amazed by the level of destruction that had befallen the kingdom, but given that he’d just stepped out of a war, he wasn’t really surprised that it was present.  When warriors had the power of heavy munitions in their skills, a certain degree of devastation was inevitable.  However, what truly troubled him was the number of casualties.

“I never though I’d feel sorry of undead,” Zeke said, looking at a town that had been flattened.  He itched to repeat his actions from before so he could put the bodies to rest, yet the skill was still on cooldown.  On top of that, he knew that if he kept it up with such actions, he would draw a lot of unwanted attention.  That, in turn, would only result in more deaths.  So, he restrained his impulses and endeavored to ignore the tragedy all around him. 

It was difficult.

But necessary. 

“That seems to be your mantra,” Eveline remarked.  “Difficult but necessary.”

“And?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “Sometimes, it feels like an excuse you tell yourself.  You retrain yourself, and for what?  You should be standing tall.  Whole swaths of this world should be under your control.”

“I have the tower,” he said.  “That’s enough.”

“A drop in the ocean,” she countered dismissively.  “Those kobolds are sufficient to form a core for your power, and they have great potential.  However, you need to find more people.  Powerful warriors who can sweep across –”

“I’m not a conqueror, Eveline,” Zeke stated as he turned from the latest battlefield, continuing in the direction dictated by the map he’d been given.  With it guiding his path, he could avoid many of the pitfalls that had slowed him during the first leg of his journey through El’Kireth.

“Tell that to the kingdom you just conquered.  This one will be the same,” she predicted.  “The powerful can’t let someone like you walk around unchallenged.  They will attack you.  Try to subjugate you.  Then, when it’s clear that they can’t, they will want you gone.  Because you represent a threat to their very existence.  That was why Lord Adontis came out of seclusion.  Where you walk, ripples follow.  The strong will feel it, and they will have to respond.”

Zeke didn’t respond.  He’d learned that Lord Adontis had spent quite some time in seclusion before coming out to challenge Zeke.  That was probably the only reason the leader of Adontis had fallen.  It had been decades since he’d fought anyone in earnest, and as a result, he wasn’t prepared for the danger Zeke represented. 

The next conflict with a powerhouse was unlikely to fall in his favor.  But he was stronger, now.  And he intended to keep that going.  Besides, if things got too heated, he could always use his escape plan and retreat.

“As if you will ever do that,” Eveline scoffed.  “You are fundamentally incapable of running away, even when you should.”

“I’ve retreated before.”

“When?”

“Uh…the hill giants?  That’s why we ended up in that dungeon.”

“That was only because you were worried about the people around you,” Eveline correctly pointed out.  “You move forward.  That’s who you are.  Maybe it ends up getting you killed, but your entire being is centered on momentum.”

Zeke didn’t have anything to say to that, except that he felt that if the situation truly warranted it, he could retreat.  But in the back of his mind, he knew that he would never judge that to be the case unless other people were in danger.  If he only had himself to worry about, he would prefer to move forward and trust his own strength to see him through any situation. 

And if he failed, then so be it.

There was reason behind that attitude, though it was buried under a mountain of pride.  At the end of the day, Zeke knew that the truly dangerous battles required complete commitment without regard for his own well-being.  Anything less, and he would fall.  So, even if much of his attitude was wrapped in pride and confidence – or arrogance, depending on who was doing the assessment – Zeke was certain that his way was the only way he could keep moving forward.

“A little arrogance isn’t a bad thing,” Eveline stated.  “You’re strong.  Acting like it is not a mistake.”

Zeke wasn’t so sure about that.  Growing up, he’d always been taught to give credit to his teammates.  At first, it was false modesty – he knew he was better than most – but at some point, he’d internalized it.  So, admitting that he was far-and-away more powerful than others was a little uncomfortable.  And acting like made him feel like a fraud, even if it was true. 

“Your world was strange,” Eveline remarked.  “The strong pretending to be no better than others?  Crediting your accomplishments to a god that you didn’t even believe in?”

“I did.”

“What?  Believed in your god?”

Zeke crested a hill, then stepped around a tree.  “I did.  I do.  I don’t know,” he said.  “I guess maybe I wanted to, at least.  Or maybe I was afraid of not believing in something that might turn out to be real.  It’s complicated.”

“Religion usually is.  My world worshipped nature,” Eveline said.  “A god in every tree, a deity in every grain of sand.”

“Sounds as complicated as what we believed,” Zeke responded. 

“It was.  But it was good.  It worked.  We revered nature, often to our own detriment,” she said.  “I think my resistance to that was part of why things ended up how they did.”

“With your death?” Zeke asked.  It was rare that Eveline spoke of her past, and it was even rarer that she gave any information about the world she’d left behind with her death.

“In Hell,” she said.  “I never believed.  My pursuit of power ignored my people’s beliefs.  I was unrestrained.  Amoral.  I didn’t consider myself evil.  I just didn’t care about myths and superstitions.  Or the lives of those I deemed beneath me.  Which was everyone.  As a result, I was considered…evil.  People hated me.  And so…”

“What happened?”

“I died, went to Hell, rose to some degree of prominence, and then had my soul split and used as a…battery for someone far more powerful than me,” she stated succinctly.  “Some people would consider that to be poetic justice.  In my first life, I did much the same to others.”  After a moment, she added, “Economically speaking, of course.”

“Do you regret it?” Zeke asked.

She gave the impression of shaking her head, saying, “Not really.  I don’t think I was wrong.  Perhaps I could have been kinder, but I refuse to coddle people who worship imaginary tree spirits.”

“But were they imaginary?”

“I don’t know.  I never saw any evidence that any of it was real,” she answered. 

Zeke frowned.  As far as he was concerned, that wasn’t how faith worked.  If it was verifiable, then belief in god – or in the case of Eveline’s native world, nature spirits – would lose much of its meaning.  And real or not, if that belief gave people hope, who was he to tell them that they were wrong.  After all, back on Earth, there had been no evidence of an afterlife.  Yet, here he was, walking through a magical kingdom populated by the undead.  Clearly, evidence was overrated. 

“You have a point,” Eveline acknowledged.  “But it feels wildly anti-scientific.  I still choose to believe in the things I experience with my own senses.”

“Fair enough,” Zeke stated. 

After that, the conversation petered out, and Zeke continued on his trek through the undead kingdom.  As he went, he saw more evidence of war, but after a while, those scenes lost their novelty.  It was all still tragic, but such was his nature that he eventually grew accustomed to the evidence of so much death and destruction. 

Fortunately, he managed to avoid most of the most dangerous areas, as they were clearly marked on the map.  Some of them, like the Death Pools, which referred to a series of tar pits populated by skeletal monsters, had the potential to put even Zeke on edge.  Regardless, the avoidance of such dangers meant that his path was much longer than it would have been otherwise.  As a result, his journey seemed meandering, often doubling back and going around particularly deadly areas. 

So, it took a further week before he emerged from a stand of blood oaks and found himself looking at the city of Darukar.  It was still miles distant, but even from that distance, Zeke had to admit that it was an impressive sight. 

Or it would have been if it wasn’t clearly a city in conflict, with great plumes of smoke twisting into sky as evidence of pervasive fires that had engulfed half of the city.  On top of that, the deathly aura was stronger than ever, though over the weeks since he’d entered the undead kingdom, Zeke had mostly grown accustomed to it. 

It still wasn’t comfortable – he felt eternally cold, with even the rocky flesh of his colossal forms having grown clammy – but he could endure it with no real determents.  Regardless, he did recognize one simple fact: he did not belong.  As one of the living – even with his colossal body – he was an outsider.  Yet, he could sense Talia nearby, which was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. 

Other than the fires, the city was incredibly impressive, with architecture that reminded Zeke of Renaissance architecture, like what he’d seen in his art history class during high school.  Even from afar, he could see that the undead had placed great emphasis on geometry and symmetry, yet there were plenty of artistic flourishes – like spires, domes, and arches – that set it apart from earthly designs. 

The buildings were almost universally made from black stone and trimmed in red, the designs of those details clearly runic to Zeke’s trained eye.  However, he could also tell that they were far beyond anything he could truly understand.  Perhaps he could break them if he chose, but that was true of just about everything. 

“You truly are a maestro of destruction,” Eveline remarked. 

Zeke ignored her, instead settling down to the study the situation.  Beyond the architecture, the city – like the rest of the area – was cloaked in a low fog.  He could see through it, but it still made everything feel far creepier than he wanted to acknowledge.  That wasn’t helped by the aura of death and the knowledge that it was populated by the undead.

“What do you think?” he asked inwardly.

“You have to go in there,” Eveline stated.  “Unless you just want to destroy the whole thing.  Though, I think you would find that [Wrath of Annihilation] will be quite a bit weaker within that city’s limits.”

“Why do you say that?” Zeke queried.  He didn’t sense any shields like the one that had protected Ivern.

“You don’t feel it?”

“No.”

“Focus.  If I can feel it, so can you.”

Zeke wanted to argue.  However, he did as she’d suggested.  It took a couple of minutes, but eventually, he realized what was going on.  The deathly aura was far denser inside Darukar, which he suspected would sap the energy from his skill.  It would still be destructive, but the effect would be quite a bit less potent in the city. 

“You would probably destroy a few blocks,” she said.  “Maybe as much as ten.  But it would be nothing like what you’ve seen so far.  It’s similar to when you attacked the Barrier.  The skill can only absorb so much mana before it’s spent.  That’s why you didn’t turn Ivern into a barren wasteland like you did on the plains.”

“You’re saying that my skills might not be as strong in there?” he asked.

“Just the one,” Eveline answered.  “Besides, you’re not nearly as reliant on skills as most people.  You can bully your way through almost anyone who wants to stand in your way.  So, that’s good, at least.”

“I don’t want to bully anyone.  I just want to find my friend,” Zeke muttered aloud.

“You may not have a choice in the matter.  It seems that you have been noticed,” she responded.

Indeed, a group of twenty undead warriors had left the city gates, and they were heading in his direction.  From a distance, Zeke couldn’t gauge their power, but they moved well enough that they could prove a threat.  Each one wore the black armor he’d seen from the other combatants he’d encountered in his trek through the kingdom. 

He didn’t know much about the sides, but he had to admit that he was more sympathetic to the people in white-and-teal.  They’d been the defenders in almost every situation, which doubtless colored his perception.  The aggressors were rarely in the right, in his experience.

“Oh, don’t be so naïve,” Eveline said.  “There are countless situations where that’s just not the case.  For all you know, the defenders were baby eaters, and the people in black were only trying to save the children.”

“Do undead have children?” Zeke asked.

“Not that point.”

“I know, but it’s a good question, right?”

“Not the sort I want to ponder.”

Zeke sighed.  “I guess that’s fair,” he remarked.

Still, he remained in place as the people approached.  As he waited, he let his unattuned colossal form melt away, replacing it with his normal cambion body.  His colossal form changed the results of any identification skills thrown his way, and he didn’t want to run the risk of being misidentified as a monster. 

The group of undead were an eclectic bunch.  Some were zombies, others were vampires, and there were even a couple of wights in the troop.  A few others sorts of undead were present as well, but Zeke didn’t know what races they represented.  Regardless, they all wore black – some in metallic armor, but others wearing leather – and were armed with various weapons ranging from spears to swords.  In short, for anyone who wasn’t accustomed to undead, they would have presented a terrifying sight.

Except when Zeke used [Inspect] on the first one to come into range, he came away more than a little disappointed:

Fara’mur Daltain – Level 51

“Only level fifty-one,” he remarked inwardly.

“A decent level for a guard,” Eveline said.  “They wouldn’t send their best and brightest to the walls.  Especially when there’s clearly a war raging through the city.”

“I guess.”

Just then, the group reached him, and Fara’mur raised the visor of his black helmet, revealing the grey, lifeless skin of a zombie.  Otherwise, he showed few indicators of his race.  “Stranger,” he said.  “State your business.”

“I’m just visiting.  Maybe take in the local customs,” Zeke said.  “Sample the cuisine.  That sort of thing.”

“Do you jest?” the zombie asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“Only a bit.  I’m looking to visit an old friend,” he stated.  “Is the city open to visitors?  If not, I’ll turn around and be on my way.”

Zeke had no intention of doing that.  If he needed to, he would sneak in.  Or as was probably more likely, fight his way through whatever they put in his way.  But he didn’t need to tell them that.

“I’m sorry, but that will not be possible.  All living visitors must be evaluated for potential danger,” Fara’mur stated.  “Please do not resist.  You may be able to defeat us, but you will not fare well against our captain.”

“Fair enough,” Zeke said.  “I’ll go willingly.  I don’t want any trouble, after all.  But if you try to shackle me, we’re going to have big problems.”

“Very well,” he said.  “Come with us.”

Then, Zeke stepped forward.  As he did, the other members of the squad surrounded him, and like that, they made their way toward the city.  The whole time, Zeke was on pins and needles, ready to respond with deadly force if they stepped over his lines.