Death: Genesis

The wind cut across the skyship’s deck, pelting Zeke with its might. Stoically, he stood his ground, and yet, he felt like he’d been cast adrift. It was not a difficult situation to understand; so far from the ground, the earth mana was almost nonexistent, and so, he’d been cut off from one of the most potent sources of his power. He could still function, but anything that used earth mana as fuel would inevitably lack potency. That meant he couldn’t use his earthen form of [Triune Colossus] without being severely weakened, and [Shifting Sands] was entirely off the table.

[Hell Geyser] would still work, but only at about half strength.

Still, he had other skills at his call, so he was still in better shape than many earth-attuned people would have been. Such was the benefit of having multiple attunements, though he was still wary of harnessing the corruption. It came with significant downsides, and he wasn’t certain he could control it. On top of that, the thinness of the area’s demonic mana meant that he only had a small amount of energy to work with.

The result was that he intended to rely on his overwhelming stats to see him through any battles they might encounter.

Those thoughts flitted through Zeke’s mind as he clutched the rail and looked down at the wilderness. It had taken almost a month for them to get the ship and its assigned crew up and running, and even that had been cutting it close in terms of viability. As a result, the kobolds who were its crew were capable of keeping it in the air, but anything more than that would stretch their capability.

Regardless, the reports they’d gotten from the rangers had made it clear that they could delay no longer. With every passing day, the Knights of Adontis became more entrenched. Even now, their runecrafters were busy enchanting the walls of their strongholds, and Zeke feared that if he gave them too much time, they would be capable of resisting even his Runebreaker technique. Given that their entire strategy for taking such fortified positions relied on him destroying any enchantments meant that if it didn’t work, they’d be forced to do things the hard way.

Zeke had no interest in a siege, and not just because the outcome of such a thing was uncertain. In addition to that very real concern, Zeke wasn’t keen on the notion of spending months wearing down the defenders’ resolve. He didn’t want to starve people out. He didn’t want to have to poison their water supplies. He just wanted a clean fight with a clear winner. A siege would not offer that.

So, they were on the clock, which was why he’d insisted that they take flight well before the crew was completely prepared for the endeavor. Still, the kobolds were capable enough to keep the ship in the air, and they could maneuver it reasonably well. Because of that, he hoped that they could avoid disaster.

“And if they can’t?” asked Eveline.

“That’s why we’re using a skeleton crew,” Zeke said. “All volunteers who knew the risks.”

Indeed, if they did encounter difficulties, or if the worst came to pass and the ship went down, the losses would be minimal. For his part, Zeke was certain that he could survive a fall from just about any height, so he didn’t think he was in much danger. The kobolds would almost certainly perish, though. However, that was a risk that needed to be undertaken, regardless of his feelings on the matter.

It was something with which he’d had to come to terms over the course of the war. People were going to die. It was inevitable. The only thing he could do was mitigate the number of deaths. Anything else was beyond his control.

Or perhaps that was just him trying to convince himself that he wasn’t to blame every time one of the kobolds fell. Whatever the case, he couldn’t win the war without incurring casualties, so he’d forced himself to accept the risks. Even if it sometimes felt like it was ripping his heart out.

In the distance, Zeke could see the labyrinth, though it was wreathed in mist that kept its pattern concealed. During his interrogation of the prisoners, Zeke had learned that there were maps that would lead him through the maze. However, none of the captives had any such map in their possession.

“Do you think they will recover?” he wondered aloud.

Eveline, who’d manifested beside him, said, “Perhaps.”

“Did I go too far?”

“For you? Probably. For a demon? No.”

Indeed, Zeke had used the full extent of the jail’s features to ensure he got the answers he needed. He wasn’t usually a proponent of torture, but with the lives of his people on the line, it was difficult to draw arbitrary lines based on morality. He had a responsibility to that collection of kobolds, centaurs, and other disparate races. They were his people, and they looked to him for protection. When weighed against that, individual morality couldn’t matter.

That was something Zeke had discovered after coming to terms with becoming the de facto head of a government. He was a king in everything but name, and as such, his sole responsibility was to protect his people and ensure their prosperity. Everything else came in a distant second place in his list of priorities. Morality was so far down the list that he couldn’t let it influence his choices.

Fighting the war against Adontis was necessary, and for a lot of reasons. The first was that he felt absolutely certain that if he didn’t take the war to them, they would bring it to him. That, combined with the facts that they had been the initial aggressors as well as the reality that he’d come to consider the captive beastkin as part of his responsibilities, and the war was absolutely unavoidable.

But drawing a line in the sand and refusing to properly interrogate prisoners whose information might save the lives of his people? Despite his personal feelings on the matter, he couldn’t afford to turn down anything that might protect the lives of his people. So, he’d used the Jail’s most dreadful features to break the captive Knights.

And he’d forced himself to watch every moment of it.

That was the cost of survival.

That was the price he’d chosen to pay. And he wouldn’t look away when the time came to do so.

To his horror and relief, it had worked, too.

It was horrifying because he knew that, with that success under his belt, he wouldn’t hesitate to use the Jail again. But it was also a relief because, if he’d gone down that road and gotten nothing, it would not have done good things for his mental health.

“You’re too soft,” Eveline said. “A real demon wouldn’t have twitched a claw at using the Jail for its intended purpose.”

“I’m not a demon.”

“Not yet,” she pointed out. “There’s plenty of time and opportunity to change that, though.”

Zeke ignored that statement, largely because he knew she was only partially serious. As much as Eveline wanted to pretend that she wanted him to fully become a demon, she was terrified of that possibility. If he did descend into demonhood, she would be the first person negatively affected. She knew that, and though she often advised him to take the amoral path, she took comfort in his lingering humanity.

He only had enough time to start down that line of thought before he saw something on the horizon. At first, he thought it was a dark cloud, yet only a moment later, he discarded that theory because he recognized the oncoming threat. A flock of hundreds of birds was bearing down on them, and it only took Zeke a few seconds to take in the details.

Each individual bird possessed a wingspan of more than a dozen feet, though that was no surprise. Animals in the Eternal Realm were usually larger and far more deadly than whatever creature from which they had evolved. What did worry him, though, was the fact that thick bands of electricity leaped from one member of the flock to another, telling Zeke precisely what they were.

“Thunderbirds!” he shouted over the wind. “Code black!”

The kobolds knew what that meant, and they immediately fled into the gate Zeke had summoned on the deck. During strategy meetings, Zeke and his allies had come up with a system of responses to any threats the expedition might encounter. For instance, if they were facing a moderate threat that the kobolds could reasonably be expected to survive, he would have shouted a different command. However, Zeke knew just how deadly thunderbirds could be – after all, he’d heard Abby’s story of her encounter plenty of times – and a flock of the creatures was bound to be deadly. So, he’d chosen the most urgent of commands, sending the kobolds back into the tower while he dealt with the threat.

That way, if the ship was destroyed – a distinct possibility – he only had to worry about his own survival. And if not, he would resummon the gate so that they could resume their journey.

Even as the thunderbirds bore down on them, Zeke took a second to ensure that the kobolds had finished their retreat into the gate. As the last one passed through, he dismissed the portal and focused on the oncoming enemies. It was just in time, too, because the first of the monsters had drawn within range. Zeke embraced [Triune Colossus], using his unattuned form. His body shifted, taking on a metallic sheen as he grew to twice his normal size.

Lately, his three forms had grown even more distinct. The earth-fueled colossal form had become even thicker and rockier, while the demonic expression of the skill had taken on a much more aggressive and athletic build. Meanwhile, the unattuned version was somewhere in between the two, though with a much more artificial appearance.

But none of that was on his mind. Instead, he had focused entirely on the evolution he’d worked so hard to facilitate. The moment Zeke embraced [Burden of Sovereignty], he felt the mana rush out of him. He tried to mitigate it by using as much earth-attuned mana as he could, but the supply was too low to make much of a difference. As a result, the skill was powered almost entirely by his personal store.

Still, he hoped it would be powerful enough that it wouldn’t matter.

Immediately, Zeke felt empowered in a way he struggled to define. He wasn’t just lighter, though that was part of it. It was as if he’d gained an additional tier to all his stats. He felt stronger, faster, and more durable than ever before. Meanwhile, the couple of thunderbirds who’d come into range experienced the opposite. One of them crashed into the side of the ship, while another hit the deck with a momentous thud. Zeke leaped forward and kicked it as hard as he could manage, cracking the comparatively delicate bones in its neck and killing it instantly.

Then, the flock arrived, carrying with it a cacophony of piercing, hawk-like cries.

The monsters were intelligent enough to recognize what had happened to the others, so they collectively adjusted. However, to Zeke, they still moved with the sluggishness of much lower leveled creatures. And he met their swooping attacks with Voromir. Bones crunched, and blood flew wide. And yet, Zeke didn’t escape the assault unscathed.

Lightning descended upon him at regular intervals, slamming into his metallic body with vicious fury. His muscles spasmed out of his control, and yet, his constant use of [Cambion’s Awakening] continually healed him from the damage.

The ship was not so lucky.

Only a few moments into the battle, a half dozen fires had taken hold on the deck, and more came with every strike of lightning. Zeke fought on, settling the entirety of his focus on the enemies, largely because if he didn’t keep up the pressure, they would overwhelm him. Still, in the back of his mind, he knew the ship was in trouble. It had some protective enchantments, but they were not complex or powerful enough to deal with the sheer volume of fire enveloping the deck.

Yet, Zeke couldn’t afford even a moment’s lack of focus to worry about that. So, he continued to swing his hammer, felling an enormous avian with every attack. He stood his ground as the beasts pelted him with lightning as the ship listed to the side. It would remain aloft indefinitely, though not if the delicate enchantments in the hull and sails were destroyed.

And given the severity of the fire, he knew it was only a matter of time before that came to pass. But until he dealt with the thunderbirds, he couldn’t deal with the flames. So, he redoubled his efforts, tearing through the flock of birds with stoic determination. Every now and then, he used [Center of Gravity] to throw one of the birds off balance, and he certainly took advantage of [Burden of Sovereignty], but he couldn’t use any of his other skills.

It didn’t matter, though.

He knew he was going to win.

The only question was whether or not the ship would still remain aloft when he managed to finish the creatures off. So, Zeke bent his back to the task before him, crushing his enemies without mercy. And they fell in droves. Soon enough, the deck was littered with avian corpses, some of which had already caught fire, filling the air with the smell of cooking meat.

Finally, after a herculean struggle, the remaining flock of thunderbirds recognized the same thing Zeke had known all along – they were overmatched and incapable of overcoming the ship’s singular defense. So, they fled, leaving Zeke standing on a burning ship amidst dozens of avian corpses.

Immediately, he summoned his gate, and the kobolds came pouring back out. At the same time, he yanked a huge water barrel from his storage space and set about trying to extinguish the flames. Some of the kobolds assisted in that effort, but most of them raced across the deck to their normal stations. There, they endeavored to keep the shift aloft.

But just like had been the case with the thunderbirds, it was clear the kobolds were fighting a losing battle. Even after the fires had been extinguished, it was obvious that the damage was too severe. The ship was going down, and they could only hope to guide it to a relatively safe location.