A wave of sheer despair crashed down on the wyrm, and even the overflow was enough to send Zeke spiraling into brief hopelessness. It only lasted a moment before it faded away, but he knew the feelings persisted within the kobolds’ minds. They’d just been asked to abandon their mother, a creature that, for all intents and purposes, was their goddess. It was the right choice. Mikaena clearly could not defeat the other wyrm in battle, and the efforts of Zeke or the remaining kobolds would make no difference in that fight. So, escaping was the only real option that might see them towards survival.

But it would also require Mikaena’s sacrifice. Even the kobolds could see the writing on the wall. And they weren’t happy about the notion of abandoning their mother.

“They will obey,” said Eveline, her own voice quiet after Mikaena’s presence. “They are fundamentally incapable of anything else.”

Zeke understood that fact well enough. The kobolds stood on the precipice of sapience, but they had yet to tumble over the edge. As such, they were entirely beholden to the wyrm’s will. Certainly, they could act independently, but when she spoke, they had no choice but to listen and obey. Now, their obeisance would be transferred to Zeke, and the weight of that responsibility fell heavily on his shoulders.

He could only hope he was up to the task of bearing it.

Even as the two wyrms clashed, crashing through crystalline bridges and dislodging huge chunks of rock from the pillar, Zeke marshalled his concentration. With his stats, balancing upon Bazariq’s back was easy enough, but if he stayed there much longer, the sheer weight of their battle would crush him, both mentally and physically. Already, he felt the pressure building in his mind and threatening to crush [Bulwark of the Triumvirate] to motes of mana.

But as much as he knew he needed to go, he hesitated.

“You can’t affect this fight,” Eveline said. “You know it.”

“I could use the braid. I could –”

“No. This isn’t some depowered remnant, like the dwarf,” she said. “These are two peak entities at the pinnacle of their might. You are no more than an insect to them.”

“But –”

“Please, Ezekiel,” she pleaded. “If you never listen to me again, please hear me now – you can’t do anything here. Trust me.”

Zeke hated to admit that he was powerless to affect the battle’s outcome. In fact, most of his personality had been built upon being the one person who never turned away from a fight. He didn’t run, and he certainly didn’t give up before he even tried. But hanging onto Bazariq’s scales as he clashed with Mikaena, Zeke could feel the power of the two creatures. It felt almost like swimming in mud, the mana in the air was so thick. Even at his most destructive, Zeke couldn’t even hope to rival that degree of strength.

The only reason he hadn’t already been ripped to pieces was because he’d kept [Cambion’s Awakening] running. Without it, he’d have been atomized by the sheer pressure weighing down on him. The kobolds who’d managed to survive leaping onto the wyrm’s back had been torn to shreds, both mentally and physically.

And Zeke knew that if he didn’t escape soon, he would share that fate.

Besides, it wasn’t just his life on the line. He had others depending on him as well. From the kobolds to the former slaves, everyone in that chamber would die if he didn’t lead them to safety. As the weight of that responsibility settled firmly on his shoulders, Zeke made the decision he couldn’t make back in the Radiant Isles.

Glancing back at his golems, Zeke saw the statues crouching behind him, clinging to the scales in much the same way he had been. With a flick of his mind, he dismissed his minions before scanning the wyrm’s broad back for any kobolds who’d managed to survive. To Zeke’s surprise, he saw a severely wounded Silik, clinging to the haft of his spear, the blade of which had been jammed between two black scales. It hadn’t pierced deeply, but it was just enough to anchor the big kobold in place.

But Silik’s own scales had been ripped and shredded by the pressure of the battle, and thick blood seeped from the cracks in his natural armor. One of his eyes was missing, and a grimace of pure pain decorated his face. But he was alive, evidenced by the blood-curdling scream of agony spewing forth from his mouth.

Of the mass of lizard-people who’d leaped upon Bazariq’s back, Silik was the only survivor. Dozens – perhaps even hundreds – dead, and they were just collateral damage. How would they fare if the wyrm turned his full attention upon them?

“I think you know,” Eveline whispered in his mind.

Zeke did. Just as he knew he’d never survive such a clash.

He released his grip and raced toward the wounded kobold. Without slowing, he reached down, scooping Silik up and throwing him over a metallic shoulder. Then, when he reached an appropriate launch point, he leaped. For a long moment, he sailed through the air, but then weight and gravity reasserted itself, and he crashed into the crystalline bridge that had been his targeted destination.

He released Silik as he landed with a roll; otherwise, he would have crushed the wounded kobold. His momentum was such that it took him a few dozen more feet until he managed to dig his fingers into the crystal surface. Digging long, deep grooves in the bridge, he barely managed to halt his progress before tumbling off the side and into the seemingly bottomless abyss.

For a second, he remained still, panting more in fear than fatigue. Glancing up, he saw that he’d covered almost two-hundred feet. The battle between the wyrms had taken them even further away than that, and the pressure had faded to a dull throb that was little more than a minor annoyance.

With a grunt, he pushed himself back to his feet and wobbled a bit before regaining his balance.

“Your spirit is in tatters,” she said. “I’m doing what I can to hold things together…”

“Why?”

“Because we’re so intertwined that whatever happens to you – especially in your soul – happens to me, too. It’s purely self-service.”

Zeke had guessed as much, but he hoped that there was some loyalty there as well. Probably far too much to ask from a demoness, even one as human-seeming as Eveline.

Without any more hesitation, Zeke trotted toward where Silik had come to a stop, and after leaning down, he confirmed that the kobold was unconscious but still alive. For some reason, that brought a bloom of hope into Zeke’s mind. So many had already died that a single survivor shouldn’t have mattered. But to Zeke, it did. To him, it was a clear refutation of the pessimism that had begun to infect his thoughts.

Saving everyone might not be possible, but it all started with one life spared.

Zeke looked around, charting a course up the side of the chamber that would take him back to the bulk of the kobold army. They were still lobbing beams of light toward the now-distant black wyrm, but most of their attacks fell short. If Zeke didn’t get to them, they would continue fighting until Baraziq turned his full attention in their direction. When that happened, the kobolds would cease to exist, and all of Mikaena’s efforts would have been for naught. And though it seemed simple – if time-consuming – to raise a race of beings to the brink of sapience, Zeke got the feeling that their extinction would be a profound loss for the world.

Throwing the kobold over his shoulder, Zeke trotted toward the wall and began a diagonal climb that would eventually take him to the other kobolds. Once there, Zeke would lead them up the spire and out of Min Ferilik.

“Most of them are going to die,” said Eveline as Zeke commenced his climb. Silik was huge, but up against Zeke’s enhanced strength, he was as light as a feather. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m doing the best I can,” Zeke responded, pushing himself faster. He didn’t bother with hand- or footholds. Instead, he just created his own, punching and kicking divots into the wall and using them to propel himself upward. “I don’t see much in the way of options here.”

“No. There aren’t many.”

Eveline went quiet after that, and for the next minute, Zeke climbed in silence. It didn’t last any longer than that, because the hisses and cries of kobolds soon enveloped him. A few seconds later, he completed his ascension and climbed atop the bridge. The shocked kobolds wheeled on him, and a couple attacked with beams of light, but he managed to twist in such a way as to protect Silik. The attacks hit his back, digging craters in the rock and metal, but with [Cambion’s Awakening] still flowing through him, the surface wound quickly healed.

Fortunately, the kobolds recognized him soon after that and ceased their attacks. That’s when one of the shaman rushed forward, her headdress singed and askew. She hissed, “Is he alive?!”

Zeke nodded and set the injured kobold on the ground. The shaman descended upon him, kneeling even as the mana swirled around her. Light enveloped her hands, which she placed upon the most egregious of Silik’s wounds. A moment later, his scales started to knit themselves back together.

It only lasted a few moments, but in that time, the kobold noticeably improved. In the meantime, the shaman’s shoulders slumped, and the second the light faded, she nearly passed out. Zeke caught her before she could fall, and she blinked up at him, momentarily confused, before saying, “I did all I could.”

If Zeke hadn’t appreciated his own ability to self-heal, the sight of the shaman’s handiwork would have convinced him otherwise. She’d probably saved Silik’s life, but only just.

“She’s not a dedicated healer,” Eveline said. “Think of it like a side job.”

“How do you know?”

“Experience. A true healer would have gotten much better results,” she responded. “But you are right in thinking that your abilities are abnormally powerful, especially for your level.”

That was all well and good, but Zeke had other things on his mind – especially when he’d just gotten irrefutable proof that he was nowhere near the peak of the realm. The battle between the wyrms continued to rage, crashing through bridges and taking chunks out of the central city pillar. Rock cascaded down into the abyss as Zeke took stock.

A line of dwarves had continued to resist, but their numbers were much thinner than Zeke had expected. As he ran toward the city’s entrance, he saw a shimmering curtain of pure mana fall over the opening. The moment it did, the dwarven defenders ran forward in a reckless attack. They were unceremoniously cut down by the kobold attackers, but as Zeke reached the front, he recognized the curtain for what it was.

The massed group of kobolds parted before him, and he saw a barrage of light beams descend upon the curtain. As he’d expected, they were absorbed without leaving a mark. More, Zeke saw that other shields had been erected in front of the other entrances, each one connected by a river of mana.

Zeke narrowed his eyes as he focused on his Will. When he did, he gasped at the complexity of the runic formation laid out before him. The entire pillar – hundreds of yards wide and taller than he could rightly judge, the thing was absolutely covered in esoteric glyphs and symbols that, until they had mana running through them, were completely invisible, even to his practiced gaze. Now, though, with his Will enhancing his perception, Zeke could see how much time and effort had gone into its construction.

It was a fortress of runecrafting the likes of which Zeke had never seen before. And if they were going to escape, they’d have to somehow get through it.

“Well, if there’s one thing you’re good at…”

Zeke sighed. There was a part of him that hated how much of his identity had been wrapped up in destruction. Even his path had evolved to reflect his skewed focus. But he wanted to be more than that. He needed to be.

For now, though, his path was wholly appropriate for the task at hand, so he had little choice but to embrace it.

Even with the chaos all around – the fight between the two wyrms and the ongoing battle between the former slaves and their captors filled the air with a cacophony of sound – Zeke’s own footsteps sounded loud in his mind. Not only his fate, but the fate of everyone else beneath the mountain rested on his shoulders. If he couldn’t destroy the shield, they would all eventually be killed by the inevitably victorious Baraziq.

The weight of increasing responsibility pushed down on him almost as potently as the pressure from the clashing wyrms had. But still, he pushed on, and soon enough, Zeke reached his destination. The shield loomed above him, shimmering and crackling with potent mana. A few kobolds had followed, but when he started gathering power, they smartly retreated.

First, Zeke embraced his Will, letting the destructive energy flow through him. It was composed of three parts. First, there was force, which was the foundation upon which the path had been built. Strong and undeterred, the power was a steady constant. Next came the runecrafting, providing structure and a connection to something more esoteric. Finally, draped over it all was pure destruction.

Three parts of his Will to reflect the three different types of mana at his fingertips. Demonic destruction. Pure mana for the runecrafting. And earth for force. It all fit together like a perfectly constructed puzzle.

With his Will giving him power, Zeke wove his braid technique together. Earth attuned mana mingled with demonic corruption, all of it held together by Zeke’s Will.

And then, he struck.

He didn’t use his hammer. Instead, he only slapped his hand against the shield. But it hit with the force of a localized esoteric bomb, sending ripples through the rippling barrier of mana that soon raced through the conduits to the other shield. With an explosion that melted parts of Zeke’s metallic body, the shields fell.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he watched as, one after another, the runes that governed that power broke. A masterpiece that had probably taken centuries to complete, and it had only taken him a second to destroy it.

The suddenness of it sent a jolt of melancholy through Zeke’s mind. Destruction was so easy. Too easy.

His introspection only lasted a moment before he felt [Cambion’s Awakening] dragging thick, earthen mana from his surroundings. His melted muscles reformed as he turned back to the stunned kobolds.

“I know I’m not her,” Zeke said. “But I need you to follow me without question. We must escape, or her sacrifice will be in vain.”

Zeke expected objections. Complaints, maybe. But the kobolds let out a hissing roar of affirmation. They were devoted to their mother, but she’d passed some of that authority onto him. To the kobolds, that rendered his commands unquestionable.

“Well, that’s the hard part done,” Eveline remarked.

“We’ve still got an army of dwarves to go through,” Zeke said. “The hard part is yet to come.”