Death: Genesis

Zeke sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees as he perused the choices the Framework had set before him. And he was a little unsettled by what he saw. Not because he didn’t like the choices, but rather because all three options were decidedly demon-themed. The first was called [Mark of the Doomed].

[Mark of the Doomed] (C) – You are the arbiter of Hell’s twisted justice. Mark an enemy with a curse that gradually corrodes their vitality with every passing second. In addition, it impairs their attributes by a significant margin. Upgradeable.

“That’s a powerful option,” said Eveline. “The grade alone means that it will be extremely potent. The lower-grade version would only have one of those effects, and it would be far weaker.”

“How strong do you think it is, though?” Zeke asked, wondering if the corrosion would make a difference against high-leveled enemies like he’d encountered in the most recent battle. If it wasn’t, there was no point in taking the skill. After all, he had no issues killing weaker foes. What he needed was something to let him fight people who’d progressed past the level seventy-five threshold.

“It will definitely make a difference,” she said. “You know how difficult curses can be to remove.”

“But enough of a difference?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Being C-Grade suggests that it would be, but there’s no way to know for certain. Without taking it, of course.”

Zeke sighed, then looked at the second option:

[Hell on Earth] (C) – Hell is everywhere. Tap into the demon realm and flood your immediate vicinity with destructive corruption, establishing a domain in which you and your allies are empowered, while your enemies are damaged. Upgradeable.

“This one feels a little pointless to me,” Zeke said. “I mean, it sounds really similar to [Burden of Sovereignty], doesn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“Oh?”

“Ezekiel, do you have any idea how rare domain skills are?” she asked.

“Obviously not,” he answered with more than a little annoyance. “But I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“Or I could just let you continue on in ignorance.”

“Just tell me,” he sighed. “I know it makes you feel important when you can lecture me about how stupid I’m being.”

“It does give me the warm and fuzzies.”

“Please don’t say things like that.”

She gave him a mental roll of her eyes. “Fine. Domain skills require a powerful connection to an attunement,” she said. “More, they are almost never available before level seventy-five.”

“I don’t feel like I have a particularly powerful –”

“You do. By virtue of your colossal body and the way it absorbs attunements, your affinity for your attunements is extraordinarily high,” she stated. “There are full demons who can’t wield corruption like you do.”

“Except that it still tears me to pieces when I use it.”

“This new skill will help with that,” she explained. “Probably. It will also do precisely what the description says, augmenting you and your allies while diminishing your enemies. You have already seen how effective [Burden of Sovereignty] can be. Imagine that multiplied by two. Perhaps even more.”

Zeke had seen just that. With his latest skill running, his army had been far more effective. On the surface, the effects didn’t seem all that impressive. Yet, when he took the entire army into account – as well as the detrimental effect on the opposing force of Knights – it was drastic. He still hadn’t seen the numbers, but he felt certain that they’d experienced significantly fewer casualties. That alone made an additional domain skill seem worthwhile. Yet, Zeke was hesitant for the same reasons that always affected him when it came time to choose a new skill.

He wanted something overt and flashy, something more active. And a new domain skill definitely didn’t seem like it filled that niche. Neither did [Mark of the Doomed], if he was honest. Perhaps that said more about his nature – or at least the way the Framework interpreted it – than anything else.

However, the third option certainly qualified as the flashy, active skill he craved:

[Pulverize] (D) – The strength of the earth flows through you. Each swing of your hammer will manifest an additional copy that will pummel your enemies into dust. Upgradeable.

“Before you say anything, I know,” Zeke said.

“You have no idea what I was going to say.”

“Something sarcastic about cavemen or me being such a brute that even the Framework recognizes it,” he guessed.

“Well…”

Zeke sighed. “It’s strong, right? I mean, the grade isn’t as high as the other two, but it’s powerful.”

“It’s only a lower grade because it’s not as complex,” she stated. “If I’m reading it right, this skill would function as a multiplier of your attacks. So, its effectiveness is dependent on your strength, for better or worse. If I had to guess, it will do at least as much damage as [Mark of the Doomed], though without the additional effect of crippling their attributes. Still, it’s more scalable.”

“Meaning that when I gain strength, which is inevitable, it’ll grow more effective.”

“Indeed.”

Zeke was not used to indecision. Often, he knew precisely what he wanted, and for better or worse, pursued that with everything he had. But this skill choice was one that had him stumped, largely because each one had significant upside.

“What do you think?” he asked Eveline.

“I can’t make this decision for you,” she said. “It’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. If you want, I can help you make a pros and cons list, but –”

“Ultimately, it needs to be my choice. Yeah. I get it.”

It wasn’t that he wanted Eveline to decide for him. Rather, he wanted her to point out the obvious – to her, at least – best option. He probably wouldn’t heed her advice, but it would have helped him come to his own conclusions.

He sighed, lying back on his bed as he debated with himself.

[Mark of the Doomed] was a powerful ability. They all were. But from an individual perspective, it would probably be the best of the three. Not only would it give him another source of damage, but it would also depower whichever enemies it affected. Of course, it would also only affect a single enemy at a time, which meant that it was useful only when he needed it most.

On the other hand, [Hell on Earth] had the benefit of augmenting his allies and weakening his enemies, though that was the extent of it.

“That’s not exactly true. Think about how people are affected by the corrupted mana of the demon realm,” Eveline said. “It corrodes them, body, mind, and soul. The domain won’t be as concentrated as it was in the demon realm, but it won’t be negligible, either. I should also point out that it will give you fuel for the demonic versions of [Triune Colossus] as well as [Cambion’s Awakening].”

“So, it kind of gives me a portable pseudo-hell.”

“Something like that.”

That changed things a little, though Zeke wasn’t quite ready to make his decision. Instead, he turned his mind to [Pulverize]. On the surface, it was the weakest of the offered skills, and yet, its straightforward nature appealed to Zeke on a very basic level. Added to that, it was also the one that would scale the best as he grew more powerful.

However, was that last bit really something he needed to consider? After all, he’d already proven that he could forcibly evolve his current skills. So, it stood to reason that, theoretically, he could scale any skill he had. The only limiting factor was whether or not he had the time to do so.

“It’s cute that you think that’s the only limiter.”

“What am I missing?”

“Raw talent? The progression of your path? Simple creativity? There are a hundred factors that make evolving your skills a far more complex proposition than you want to admit,” she said. “Depending on that to save you from a bad decision is, well, a bad decision.”

“So, you think taking [Pulverize] would be a bad choice.”

She sighed. “You’re really going to make me weigh in, aren’t you? Fine. Think about your goals, Ezekiel. You’re not alone, and your measure of success is not personal progression.”

Eveline was right on that count. For months, he’d been pushing the kobolds and beastkin that depended on him to grow more powerful. And they had responded beautifully. Each battle they won was proof of that. Yet, from an individual perspective, no single kobold was a match for the enemies they’d begun to face. They made up for it with collectivist thinking and good strategy, but they couldn’t always count on facing enemies whose tactics were wrapped around having powerful individual warriors. Eventually, they would face another cohesive army, and unless they progressed significantly before that happened, they would soon find themselves on the losing end.

And Zeke couldn’t accept that.

With that framing his decision, it didn’t seem like there was any choice at all. So, without further internal debate – with himself or with Eveline – he made his decision.

He chose [Hell on Earth].

And immediately, he felt the same pang of regret, mingled with a surge of excitement, that came every time he’d made a skill choice. Fortunately for Zeke, none of his skills were final. That wasn’t the case with most people, but if [Hell on Earth] turned out to be a dud, he could always change it sometime in the future. With that in mind, he pushed himself off the bed and headed to the manor’s kitchen. There, he found Pudge and Sasha enjoying a meal together. Not wanting to interrupt them, Zeke quickly left them to it and headed outside to test his new skill.

Along the way, he encountered a squad of kobolds who were about to go hunting on the Mukti Plains where the physical tower was located. It was so easy to forget that he’d left it back there, and that the kobolds, beastkin, and centaurs routinely left via that exit on various hunting expeditions meant for leveling as well as the establishment of teamwork.

The kobolds – all lower-leveled legionnaires and rangers – were awed by his presence, but Zeke quickly tried to put them at ease. It didn’t work, but that seemed somewhat inevitable. So, saying that he was just tagging along, he let them take the lead. After that, he followed them outside, where they quickly fell into the rhythm of their established hunts. Soon enough, they came upon a herd of huge, red, and elephant-like creatures with huge, sweeping horns and the ability to shoot fire from their trunks.

They were common foes, largely because they bred quickly and had few natural predators on the plains, and the kobolds had long-since learned the best way to deal with them. So, after establishing a shield wall, they proceeded to pepper the monsters with various ranged attacks. At first, the beams of light and rangers’ arrows were almost entirely useless, but the kobolds were persistent. And protected by their shield-wall skill, the danger posed by the fire elephants’ attacks was mostly mitigated.

Still, as interesting as it was to see the kobolds’ methods, Zeke had come along to test his new skill. So, without further ado, he used [Hell on Earth].

The moment he released the skill, the sky darkened, and a wave of corrupted mana erupted from where he stood. However, it didn’t simply spread out. Instead, it latched onto the ambient mana in the air, converting it at a rapid pace. More overtly, the grass caught fire, burning with black-and-red flames. The fire elephants stumbled, clearly pained by the transformation of the environment.

At the same time, red runes blazed on the kobolds’ skin, and each time they cast [Spear of Memories], it was laced with hellfire. For his part, Zeke felt a little stronger, but the biggest difference was that he could feel the thick corruption all around him. It wasn’t as pervasive as it would have been in the demon realm, but it was more than enough to fuel the demonic versions of his skills for quite some time. Maybe indefinitely, if he didn’t overdo things.

That was enough to make him appreciate his choice. However, it also highlighted the necessity to push himself further along the path of inoculating himself against both his Path of Arcane Destruction as well as demonic mana. If he could harness those two together, and without tearing himself apart, his power would become truly overbearing.

“Now use [Burden of Sovereignty],” Eveline said once the effects of the skill became clear.

Zeke did just that, and the elephants collapsed under their own weight. They screamed in pain as the kobolds finished them off.

“That was both impressive and anticlimactic,” Zeke said.

“A group of level thirties just took down a group of level forty-fours,” Eveline stated.

“I fight higher-leveled monsters all the time.”

“Your concept of what’s normal is incredibly skewed, Ezekiel. Most people fight creatures below their level,” she stated. “It’s the safest way to progress.”

“Safety and progression don’t go together.”

Eveline sighed. “That’s true, I suppose. But that misses my point entirely. You just made it safe for them,” she stated. “Do you have any notion of how much this could affect your army’s effectiveness?”

Zeke let the question go unanswered. Instead, he used [Colossal Legion]. The familiar portal split the air beside him, and three bronze golems stepped out. As soon as they were fully in the world, the same red runes branded their bodies.

He barely noticed that, though. Instead, he was wholly focused on something else that had changed about the golems.

“You feel that, right?” he asked.

“They’re absorbing the corruption,” Eveline answered.

“What do you think it means?”

“I…I don’t know…”

Zeke had some ideas, though. The golems were an extension of him, and he’d always found it odd that they couldn’t utilize demonic mana. It seemed that [Hell on Earth] would change that, which further underscored the need to upgrade the tower with the Hall of Affinities. If his new skill could potentially change his [Colossal Legion], what would more structured exposure to new affinities do?

More importantly, how could that guide the kobolds in the future?

They were exciting questions, and ones for which Zeke was extremely eager to find the answers.