Zeke was on the verge of being overwhelmed.

Dozens of dwarves clung to his metallic body, using the ridges and crystalline spikes to hold on as they aimed one skill after another at point-blank range. And there were more all around, pouring through out of the tunnels to do their part in the battle to defend their home. Their trademark apathy had momentarily faded before the threat Zeke represented, and they’d briefly recovered some measure of ferocity, throwing themselves upon him like a swarm of insects.

Somewhere in the distance, Zeke heard the hissing screams of the kobolds as they fought a similar battle, though none of them were capable of taking nearly as much punishment as Zeke. As a result, many were dead or dying, wounded and injured. The dwarves were nothing if not capable fighters, and they’d long-since developed a viable strategy to deal with creatures much larger and more powerful than them.

It all hinged on self-sacrifice. None of them seemed to care about their own lives, so long as they could save their civilization. Because that was what was at stake. They knew it. Zeke knew it. Another massive rumble – the result of the battle between two wyrms outside – rocked the city pillar, sending dust misting into the air as rocks tumbled down the walls.

Zeke tore his arm loose from the mass of dwarves, reached over, and snatched another short, armored figure from his opposite side. Then, he unceremoniously threw the vicious dwarf across the room. He didn’t make a sound as he sailed through the air, but upon his collision with the nearest wall, Zeke heard the telltale sound of crunching bone and rending metal. It was loud and distinct enough that it carried even over the sounds of battle.

But Zeke couldn’t dwell on it because, as soon as he took care of one attacker, another took their place. Over the next few minutes, Zeke continued that strategy, tossing dwarves with reckless abandon. They carved huge creases in his naturally armored body, but the wounds were shallow enough that [Cambion’s Awakening], fueled by the dense, earth-attuned mana in the underground atmosphere, was more than enough to see him through.

He could fight like this all day. And eventually, he would win.

However, the situation was such that he couldn’t afford to take that long. Not only were the kobolds incapable of his level of regeneration, which meant that they couldn’t keep up with the pace of battle, but there was the looming threat of the battle between the wyrms. When Bazariq won – and he would, Zeke was certain – Zeke, the former slaves, and the kobolds needed to be on the surface and, preferably, far away. Otherwise, they would fall victim to the incredibly powerful creature.

And Zeke suspected that the wyrm was just vindictive enough to go out of his way to make certain that the children of his former mate paid for what he almost assuredly saw as a betrayal.

Zeke refused to let that happen.

So, with a shift of mana, he embraced [Weight of Two Worlds]. In the past, he’d only really activated it with pure mana, but he figured it was time to change that. So, fueling it with earthen energy, Zeke used the skill in its most fundamental form. As he did so, he used his racial ability to manipulate his own weight to offset the change in localized gravity. The dwarves had no such ability, and the full force of the skill slammed down with inevitable weight.

Zeke had difficulty quantifying just how much gravity had increased, but it was more than enough to produce instant results. The moment he released the skill, the dwarves all around him slammed to the floor. Stone cracked beneath them as the sound of wrenching metal filled the air. The dwarven warriors clinging to Zeke’s body tried to hold on, but their grips weren’t close to strong enough, and after only a second or two, they joined their brethren on the cracking floor.

Zeke was mostly unaffected, though his racial ability did have its limits. So, he felt almost twice as heavy as normal. It was nothing compared to what the dwarves experienced, though.

“Two-hundred times,” Eveline muttered in his mind.

“What?”

“The gravity. You enhanced it two-hundredfold. Approximately.”

“Oh,” said Zeke, already summoning the hammer he’d had to stow because there hadn’t been room to swing it. “Good to know.”

Then, he began the extermination. Zeke didn’t relish the task. But as he repeatedly swung his hammer, crushing bodies and skulls, he knew it was necessary. The dwarves would pursue the moment the skill released them, and Zeke couldn’t afford any further delays. Already, the pitch of the battle outside had risen to a crescendo, and it wouldn’t be long before the wyrms destroyed the city pillar. So, Zeke embraced the distasteful task, wishing for all the world that it wasn’t so necessary.

Zeke had long since accepted the necessity of killing in battle. In the back of his mind, he could even acknowledge that he enjoyed it, at least to a certain extent. However, ending someone’s life in the middle of a fight was very different than summarily executing dozens – or maybe hundreds – of helpless dwarves. Zeke couldn’t let himself falter, though. He had to be strong.

It only took a few minutes, but by the time Zeke got to the end, he’d stopped paying attention to the kill notifications. Most of them were no higher-leveled than him, which meant that they posed almost no real threat to Zeke himself. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t get Zeke and the people depending on him killed. So, they’d had to die.

“You’re going a long way to try to convince yourself,” Eveline said. “I’m not sure if I like the introspective version of you. Bring back the bloodthirsty berserker demon. I like him a lot better.”

“Shut up.”

Once Zeke finished the odious task, he retreated to where the kobolds were still fighting their own battle. When he arrived in the next chamber, which was as large as a football field, Zeke saw that the kobolds weren’t exactly losing. They weren’t winning, either, and though their casualties were minimal, he knew that wouldn’t remain the case for long. The shaman healers would soon run out of mana, and when that happened, the dwarves would overwhelm them.

Zeke’s intervention prevented that eventuality from coming to pass.

He waded into the battle, swinging his hammer back and forth with metronomic regularity. The dwarves tried to repeat their previous tactics, but they were being attacked from two sides, and so, they couldn’t focus their numbers well enough to accomplish anything. As a result, they were crushed between a hammer and anvil, and soon enough, every single enemy was dead.

Zeke did get a surprise when he saw the kobold at the front of the battle line, though.

“Silik? You should be with the wounded,” Zeke said, reaching out to grip the kobold’s least injured shoulder. Most of his scales had been cracked, and he was covered in thick, reptilian blood, but he seemed sturdy enough.

“I am well enough to fight,” he said. “We serve the mother. We serve the savior. Anything less and we don’t deserve to live.”

Zeke didn’t much care for the zealous glint in Silik’s eye, but it was neither the time nor the place to worry about the kobold’s mental state. There would be plenty of time for that in the future. For now, escape was paramount.

For the next few minutes, he stood by while the kobolds treated their wounded. None would heal completely, but it was enough to get them either back on their feet or to prevent them from dying before more focused treatment could be rendered. Once that was done, Zeke continued to lead the procession through the various chambers of Min Ferilik. As he did, he couldn’t help but see the evidence of a once-great civilization. The broad halls and massive rooms were all impeccably crafted, each according to the typical dwarven architecture, but what truly impressed Zeke was the sheer scope of the construction. It had to have taken decades – maybe even centuries – to complete.

But it was all worn down and in ill-repair. Cracks adorned the faded frescoes that decorated the walls. The tapestries and rugs were frayed and discolored. The details of the statuary and fountains had been worn smooth, lost to the rigors of time and erosion. It all painted a sad picture of a dying civilization. Certainly, the dwarves could have clung to existence for a little while longer, but at some point in the near future, they would have given in to the apathy and faded away.

Now, their end would be far more abrupt.

Gradually, Zeke and the kobolds climbed the broad staircases that connected one level to the next, and slowly, the air grew less stale. After about an hour, Zeke led the kobolds in an attack that took the dwarven defenders squaring off against the former slaves from behind. The resulting battle was swift and brutal, and every single dwarf was killed.

Thankfully, the former slaves recognized Zeke – how could they not, given his very distinctive appearance when under the effect of [Triune Colossus] – so they didn’t clash with the kobolds. Clearly, neither side was comfortable with the other, but they were willing to play nice at least until they reached the surface.

Jasper’s addition to the small army – or rather, his skill [Rhythm of the March] – sped the group’s ascent to such a degree that they reached familiar territory far sooner than Zeke had anticipated. It was just in time, too, because the battle between the wyrms had escalated to the point where the two had started using skills. Zeke couldn’t tell what the skills did – there was tons of rock between him and the ongoing fight – but he could feel the massive amounts of mana twisting through the air. If any of them got caught up in that, they wouldn’t last more than a few seconds.

“At best,” added Eveline, who’d kept up a running commentary throughout the climb. “You’re strong, but –”

“I know,” Zeke interrupted, closing himself off from her constant mental chatter. He could still hear her, but it was like a fly buzzing in his ear – annoying but easily ignored. Which she did not like. Not at all. Still, it was Zeke’s head, and he was in charge.

Gradually, the mixed group climbed through Min Ferilik until, at last, they reached the tunnel that would lead them to the surface. The only problem was that they’d have to cross one of the crystalline bridges to get there. And that meant braving the runoff from the ongoing battle between the two wyrms.

“What is it, my friend?” asked Jasper, stepping up to stand beside Zeke, who was staring through the gate and across the bridge. It looked safe enough, but he knew from personal experience just how easily innocent bystanders could become collateral damage.

“People are going to die,” he said without looking at the dark elf. “You feel it, don’t you?”

“Everyone does.”

“So, what do we do?” Zeke asked, glancing back at the group. Thousands had survived, though few had done so without picking up a few wounds. On top of that, everyone was exhausted, so they’d taken the brief stop as an opportunity to rest. Still, there was an electric anticipation, composed of anxiety, fear, and excitement, dancing through the atmosphere. Everyone was terrified, but they also craved freedom so much that the prospect of finally reaching the surface very nearly overwhelmed their fear.

“We keep moving forward,” Jasper said. “Because that is all we can do. Staying here will get us all killed. Proceeding will only kill some of us. It is an easy equation, even if it is difficult to accept.”

“My people can help,” said Silik, who’d never left Zeke’s side. He’d picked up a few more wounds along the way, but he somehow appeared heartier after the ascent. Perhaps the kobold shamans were more proficient healers than Zeke gave them credit for.

“How?” Zeke asked.

“Mother gave us a ritual to protect us from her power,” he explained in his hissing voice. “It does not come without cost, though. Seven seals. Seven shields. Seven sacrifices.”

“I won’t condone –”

“The sacrifices have already volunteered,” Silik stated. Then, he turned and gestured toward a group of shaman who’d separated themselves from the others. They stood in a circle, hands held, as the mana began to swirl around them. “It is begun.”

Zeke almost stepped forward to put a stop to it. He certainly hadn’t expended so much effort just to watch more of the kobolds die. But there were two problems with trying to halt the budding ritual. First, he had very little experience with rituals, and as such, he had no idea what would happen if he ended it prematurely. For all he knew, it would explode.

“It’s possible,” said Eveline.

More importantly, though, Zeke knew that seven deaths was a small price to pay for keeping the group safe as they crossed the bridge. It was simple math. A few dead kobolds for thousands of lives.

Even so, that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. If it had been required, Zeke expected that he never could have given the order, but now that things had already begun, it was a lot easier to just stand back and watch as the kobold shamans enacted the ritual.

As the mana swirled, the kobolds began a hissing chant that steadily grew in volume. They weren’t shouting, but their voices filled the tunnel, echoing in everyone’s ears. Runes composed of pure mana bloomed into being like energy tattoos on their scaly bodies. They swirled, shifting with every passing second. Still, the chanting continued.

That’s when Zeke noticed the lone figure at the center of the circle. She was a kobold shaman, much like the rest, but no words left her reptilian mouth. Instead, she’d merely raised her hands toward the ceiling, and she held that pose even as the gathering mana thickened.

Zeke watched in mingled fascination and horror as the other kobolds in the circle started to wither. It was as if all the moisture was slowly being sucked out of them, bit by bit, until nothing but dried-out husks remained. Then, with a unified shout, the swirling mana halted in place before, a moment later, rushing inward toward the untouched and unharmed eighth kobold.

She collapsed in a seizure. The other kobolds burst into dust that soon drifted away. And a second later, a blue nimbus erupted from the seizing kobold, enveloping everyone in the tunnel. When that happened, Silik said, “It is done.”

Zeke shook his head. Seven more deaths. When would it stop? His conscience could only bear so much.

After the former slaves calmed down – they hadn’t reacted well to the shield – Zeke led his disparate group of former slaves and kobolds onto the bridge. The moment he left the protective confines of the city pillar, Zeke stumbled, and he wasn’t the only one. The mana was so thick in the air that it felt like walking into a brick wall, and it took a few moments for everyone to adjust. During that time, the sound of explosions and cleaving rock filled the air, reminding them of the cost of sitting idle. That drove them forward, and step by step, the group crossed the bridge.

Zeke stood at the mouth of the tunnel until, finally, the last of the mismatched army had begun their final ascent. Jasper, who’d remained by his side, said, “We must go.”

Zeke responded, “No. I need to do something first. Get them to the surface as quickly as you can. I’ll follow the moment I’m done.”

Jasper wanted to argue, but by that point, he knew Zeke well enough to recognize the stubborn set of the big man’s jaw. So, he just nodded and wished Zeke luck before following in the others’ footsteps.

Silik was less cooperative, but he was also fundamentally incapable of disobeying Zeke’s orders. But that didn’t mean he was happy about being sent on his way.

For a while, Zeke stood at the mouth of that tunnel, just staring up at the city pillar. The battle between the wyrms was on the other side of the massive, cylindrical chamber, so he couldn’t see much of their fight. But what he could observe was enough to confirm that he wasn’t even close to powerful enough to defeat either of the two combatants.

But that was fine. He didn’t intend to get into a fight he couldn’t win.

Instead, he planned to ensure his people’s survival as best he could by slowing any pursuit. He couldn’t kill Bazariq. Nor could he truly stop him. But he could slow the wyrm down, and that would have to be enough.

So, with that in mind, Zeke once again wove his various attunements into his braid technique. This time, though, he embraced the destructive side of his Will. As such, the disparate energies twisted, trying to escape his grasp; Runebreaker was imminently controllable. This, though? It hated being corralled. The only reason Zeke managed it was through sheer, stubborn refusal to give in.

With a force of willpower, he forced everything into place. Then, he flooded himself with demonic energy via [Cambion’s Awakening] even as he shifted [Triune Colossus] into its demonic form. Explosive power rushed through him as his body changed and his mind roared with untapped violence. Suddenly, joining the battle didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He’d defeated creatures that were much more powerful than him before. Why not this time?

Gritting his teeth, Zeke wrangled those thoughts and pushed them to the back of his mind. They fought back desperately, and he knew it was a battle he would eventually lose. However, he only needed a few seconds of clarity to enact his plan.

With all that power flowing through him, Zeke’s embrace of [Unleash Momentum] almost felt superfluous. However, he knew it was the catalyst. A necessary component to set off the explosion he needed.

As Zeke lifted his hammer, every muscle in his body begged for release. But he held back, centering his mind on what he needed. Then, once he had it in his grasp, Zeke swung, releasing every ounce of power he could muster.

And it was a considerable amount.

The air rippled as he unleashed his full might directly at the top of the city pillar. The crystalline bridge crumbled into dust under the power of a glancing blow as Zeke forcefully narrowed the wave of destruction’s focus. The pillar came next, a huge chunk the size of a building crushed into pebbles as the power tore through it.

But then, it hit the ceiling, and the earth protested.

Enormous fissures spread from the point of impact, each hundreds of yards long and half as wide, as rock rained down upon the crystalline bridges. Zeke collapsed to one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he abandoned the demonic mana and embraced the pure energy that dwelled within him.

His entire body was on fire with agony; he’d never channeled so much demonic mana before, and he had paid the price. It would take days – maybe weeks – to recover from the expenditure. And for what? A small earthquake? He’d expected so much more.

Then, a cracking sound filled the air, and Zeke got precisely what he’d wanted. The top of the pillar that had been his target shifted slightly. That shift became a slide, and suddenly, it tore free. As it fell, destroying what was left of the bridges, the ceiling followed. The two wyrms screeched and roared as they were buried beneath a mountain of rock.

“Thank you, child,” came Mikaena’s voice in his mind. It was weak. Almost powerless. “Keep them safe.”

And then, her presence was gone. Zeke got no kill notification for either of them, but he hadn’t expected one, either. At best, they would be trapped, which would have to be enough. Either way, Zeke had no time to think it through, because another rumble tore through his surroundings, telling him that the tunnel would soon collapse, sealing the destroyed Min Ferilik underground.

So, without another thought, Zeke turned and sprinted up the sloped tunnel, hoping he could outrace the destruction he’d wrought.

In the end, it was a close thing. Along the way, he saw a few dead dwarves, but his people seemed to have survived the trip unscathed. That was heartening, and it drove him to ignore the pain and fatigue coursing through his body as he ran through the tunnel. Or stumbled, really. His pace wasn’t slow, but the entire time left him feeling like he was on the verge of falling.

Eventually, Zeke burst through the final gate and stumbled into the bright, blinding sunlight. Shouting filled the air, but Zeke couldn’t see clearly enough to understand what was going on. As his vision cleared, the tunnel completely collapsed, sending out a puff of dust and rock that fell upon Zeke’s metallic back with a clatter.

Finally, Zeke’s vision cleared, and he saw something he hadn’t expected.

A humanoid bear and a woman with the head of a warthog stood surrounded by former slaves and kobolds. The bear held up his huge paws in surrender, but the girl clutched at a staff like it was her only lifeline.

Zeke narrowed his eyes as he beheld the bear-man.

“Pudge?” he muttered, feeling the strength of the soul bond pushing at his awareness.

“I have returned to you, brother,” came a rumbling voice.

“Brother?” the girl snorted. “Your brother is…that?!”

Zeke, realizing that he still had [Triune Colossus] active, let it dissipate. He shrank down to his normal form, and the girl gasped, whispering, “Human?”

“No,” Pudge and Zeke said at the same time. Then, they both laughed. Zeke pushed himself to his feet and stepped up to Pudge before wrapping his arms around his furry companion’s shoulders. Tears in his eyes, he said, “You got big, buddy.”

“You as well,” Pudge rumbled.

Like that, they remained until Zeke heard Jasper clear his throat and say, “Uh – not to break up the little reunion, but I think it best if we vacated the area as quickly as possible.”

Zeke released Pudge and turned to his friend, saying, “That’s probably a good idea.”

“Where will we go?”

“For now? Away,” Zeke answered, looking around. When he’d embraced Pudge, much of the fight had left his people. It wasn’t surprising, really. They were all exhausted, and many of them were wounded, so they were more than willing to take hold of any excuse not to fight. “In the long-term, I need to find my other friends.”

With that, Zeke strode away, Pudge by his side. And an army of kobolds and former slaves followed.