Death: Genesis

The smell of burnt flesh, blood, and all sorts of odors Zeke didn’t want to contemplate filled the air as he stomped on the ground, sending a line of ragged devastation cutting across the battlefield to erupt into a huge gout of flame, earth, and corruption. It enveloped his opponent – the last caprid standing – searing the flesh from its bones and sending a wave of kill energy into him. Then, he let his shoulders droop in exhaustion.

“Was that the last one?” he asked, glancing back at his companions.

“That was the last wave,” said Adara, jabbing the end of her sword into the blood-soaked sand of The Arena.

Everyone was injured. Pudge had a few large gashes across his chest, and his fur was matted with blood. Jasper was also covered in blood, but the wounds that were the source of all that blood had already been closed. At present, most of his most serious injuries were internal. Eta was similarly wounded, with large chunks of her bark-like skin missing.

The most battle-ready was Adara, who’d proven herself to be both a talented combatant as well as an enduring force on the battlefield. With her armor, she could take almost as much damage as Zeke.

“That’s generous,” said Eveline. “And entirely untrue. Kind of patronizing, too. She’s strong, but it’ll take quite a while before she reaches your level. You don’t have to sugarcoat things to acknowledge that they’re better than average. Just be honest.”

Zeke didn’t have the energy to argue. For his part, he wasn’t hurt. Sure, he’d taken plenty of hits over the course of their time in The Arena, but because of his incredible durability as well as his powerful ability to heal himself, he’d never been in any real danger. However, just because he didn’t have to fear for his life didn’t mean that it hadn’t been an exhausting exercise. He likened it to spending hours in the gym, though with significantly more blood and sweat.

Zeke turned his gaze to his surroundings, and all he saw was a mountain of corpses. Between waves, they had slowly backed themselves against one of the walls so that they could eliminate one direction of attack, so looking out at the arena, Zeke could see the results of the seemingly endless battle. They’d only been at it for a day, but in that time, they had killed thousands. Zeke wasn’t interested in doing the map, but the numbers were seemingly endless, and with each wave had come slightly stronger enemies. The result was an ever-more-difficult task that, at last, had finally ended.

“And just think – you’re going to need to do this at least ten more times,” Eveline said sweetly. “Maybe more. You didn’t get as much kill energy during this run as you probably should have because of the tagalongs.”

“They helped,” he said inwardly.

“Sure. They weren’t useless. But you could have done this alone, and you know it. Most of the reason you’re so exhausted is because you had to ensure they survived,” Eveline pointed out. “When you run it again, you won’t have to worry about holding back or protecting anyone. You’ll be able to just cut loose.”

She wasn’t wrong. Even with the enhancements provided by Zeke’s domains, the others were incapable of keeping up with his pace. So, he’d spent most of his time stalling a few remaining enemies so he could delay the next round. That strategy was limited in viability – eventually, the subsequent rounds would come regardless of whether the current enemies had died. However, it had given his companions a little extra time to rest and recover, which had been necessary if they were going to contribute.

“Contribute is a generous assessment of what they were doing,” Eveline said dismissively. “They tried their best, but that’s about all I can say for them.”

That was true as well. For the last five rounds, they’d done the bare minimum to receive credit for the kills, and even that had been pushing things. According to Adara, when the Knights of Adontis ran The Arena, they did so with a large enough group that they could rotate who was fighting, which allowed a portion of the party to rest.

It was efficient, at least in terms of completing the dungeon. Yet, it was also useless for Zeke’s purposes. Even bringing his current companions along had slowed the process down too much for his liking. On top of that, it had limited his experience gain. According to Eveline, each creature had a specific amount of energy within it – which was based on a variety of factors, including levels, any attunements, and level of sapience, among others – so when that amount was split between multiple people, each participant got a smaller piece of the proverbial pie.

In turn, that meant that Zeke had to divide the fruits of his labor with everyone else.

But at least it was over, and they would receive the reward upon exiting. In addition, he’d gained an entire level, putting him at fifty-six. He could only hope that additional runs would be just as fruitful.

“The next one will probably give you just as much kill energy,” Eveline said. “There are diminishing returns, but you’ll be alone. So, you might even get slightly more the second time through. The third will be slightly less, and each run after that will be worse – in terms of level gain. By the tenth, I’d be surprised if it moved the needle at all.”

Zeke gave her a mental shrug. “I guess that’s just how it’s going to be,” he responded. “If I have to, I’ll find another dungeon.”

A part of him regretted destroying the dungeon in the giants’ territory. It had been evil – he was certain of that – but it was also useful. Still, with how involved the place was, it probably wouldn’t have been very efficient for his purposes. The centaurs’ trial was better, but according to Rasa Tomaki, it was impossible to visit it more than once. That, as well as the unique nature of the challenge of the dungeon, was why they used it as a rite of passage for potential leaders, rather than to usher their people to power.

So, for now, The Arena was Zeke’s only option for quick and efficient leveling. Hopefully, he could reach his goals before it became more trouble than it was worth. With that in mind, he led the others to one of the gates. Each one had begun to glow when they’d finally defeated the final wave, and according to Adara, they were all identical exits.

Zeke stepped through, and when he rematerialized just outside the dungeon, he received an expected notification from the Framework:

Congratulations! You have completed the dungeon, Hall of Mirrors! Rewards: Blood of Conquest

Upon reading the notification, a vial appeared in the palm of his hand. It was small – no bigger than his thumb – and contained a glittering red liquid.

“What is this?” he asked, holding the vial up to the light of the sun. “Blood of Conquest?”

“It is one of the better rewards,” Adara answered. She hadn’t gotten a reward due to the fact that she had already completed the dungeon once before. While a person could gain experience by doing so multiple times, they were only given Framework rewards after the first time conquering a dungeon. “It is an item enhancement and one of the most sought-after rewards for Knights. We used it on our armor, enhancing and binding it to an individual Knight.”

“Interesting,” Zeke said, having already decided to use it on Voromir. It wasn’t as if he had any other items he used anymore, anyway. So, after asking Adara how to utilize the Blood of Conquest – and finding that he merely had to pour it onto a magical item – Zeke did just that. And from a visual perspective, the results were a little disappointing. The weapon further morphed into a true hammer, with the side spikes retracting almost entirely while the other two extended and widened. The haft also grew longer, but only marginally so. However, the true evolution had to do with the awareness of a new ability that suddenly bloomed in Zeke’s mind.

He embraced it, and suddenly, a blood-red copy of the hammer superimposed over the physical version. After making sure the coast was clear, he swung the weapon, and the duplicate extended and enlarged, sweeping out almost thirty feet away. When it hit the wall of the labyrinth, it did so with thunderous impact similar to if Zeke had hit it with the physical version of Voromir.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Zeke said as the ability winked out. It had only lasted for a single swing, but he felt that he could use it five more times before its energy depleted. After that, it would be unusable for a few hours. “Limited, but that could be helpful.”

“You basically just gained a new skill,” Eveline responded. “I really hate you, sometimes. If I had your luck back when I had a body…”

“You wouldn’t have had the chance to meet me.”

“I know. That’s the selling point,” Eveline remarked with a mental eyeroll.

After that, the others recounted their own gains. Everyone had earned a level, but their rewards were decidedly less impactful. Pudge and Jasper received attribute potions, while Eta was awarded a seed that she said would become a natural treasure. According to her, it would only do so with proper care, but when it reached maturity, it would enhance any garden – or farm – to a large degree. That sounded more like a call to work than a reward to Zeke, but she seemed excited about it, so he reasoned that he didn’t have the right to judge.

Adara, of course, got no reward due to the fact that she’d already run the dungeon once before.

“Alright. If you all want to hang out, you can,” Zeke said. “Or you can head back through the labyrinth and to the gate. But I’m going to be here for a while.”

“What? Why?” asked Adara.

“That was just a test run. I’m going to keep running this thing until it’s more trouble than it’s worth,” he answered. He’d already told Pudge about his plans, but to the others, it was a surprise.

Predictably, Adara didn’t like it. “That is not how dungeons are supposed to work,” she argued. “They are a reward or a rite of passage, and not –”

Zeke interrupted her, saying, “This dungeon is mine. I can do whatever I want with it. And considering that me doing this is what might keep my people alive, I’ll exploit this system however I can. Anything less, and I’d be doing a disservice to everyone living in the tower. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you shouldn’t have switched sides.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Oh? Then what did you mean?”

She started to speak, then let out a huff before turning around and stalking off. As she did, she muttered to herself, though Zeke couldn’t hear it.

“That was rude,” Eveline stated.

“Didn’t seem that way from my perspective.”

“She’s trying to wrap her mind around a completely new way of life. She’s been indoctrinated by the Knights of Adontis since she was young. That she’s managed to come this far is a testament to her own ability to think critically,” Eveline explained. “So, cut her some slack.”

“I thought you didn’t like her.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“You keep insulting her.”

“Teasing.”

“That’s not…you know what? I don’t want to deal with this right now,” Zeke answered. Then, he said aloud, “Pudge, you’re in charge. Don’t let anything happen to them.”

“I will guard them with my life,” the bearkin said without hesitation. Of late, Pudge had adopted a much more serious tone, probably because he spent so much time with Silik or the other kobolds.

Suddenly, Zeke wondered how Pudge relaxed. Certainly, he was with Sasha quite a lot, but Zeke felt certain that Pudge suffered from the same issues that had plagued his own life. Chiefly, that he didn’t have anything like a hobby. Zeke had tried to address that by making pies, but he had neither the time nor the true inclination to continue. Surely, Pudge had the same problems.

“I still think baking pies is good for you,” Eveline said.

“I don’t disagree,” Zeke replied. “But the problem is that it requires a lot of…”

“Accoutrements?”

“Yeah. I can’t just pick it up and do it wherever I am,” he said. “It needs a kitchen. Certain tools. That sort of thing. Maybe I can find another hobby that I can just pick up whenever.”

“Perhaps. I’ll give it some thought. But in the meantime…”

“Yeah,” Zeke said, rolling his shoulders. He’d kept [Cambion’s Awakening] active since exiting the dungeon, and it had helped to alleviate his fatigue. That, in turn, had put him in a good position to continue in his quest to exploit the dungeon. So, after once again ensuring that Pudge understood his responsibilities, he turned back to the dungeon and entered through the open gate.

Over the next couple of weeks, Zeke did precisely what he’d planned, and to his surprise, each subsequent run became easier. Part of it was that he grew more powerful with each level, but there was also an element of routine about it that made everything flow far better. By the fourth run, he could anticipate most of the enemies’ moves. And by the ninth, he was running on autopilot – which was a good thing, because it also allowed him to continue his training with his Will. That made it interesting, at least.

At some point, he passed level sixty, but by that time, he’d resolved not to check any of his notifications or his status until he’d completely exhausted the dungeon. Vaguely, he was aware of climbing levels, but he’d found that constantly watching his status made everything seem even more tedious than before. So, he chose to focus on making each run more efficient than the last while also pushing his inoculation to his Will.

Of course, he didn’t make it through any run unscathed. As his levels climbed, so too did the base power of the dungeon’s enemies. So, the challenge remained static even as he grew stronger.

As a result, every third or fourth run required him to stop and rest after it concluded. It was during those brief moments of respite that he wished that Pudge and the others had remained behind. However, they’d all gone back to the tower. There were still kobold rangers around, but they were anything but good conversationalists. So, Zeke felt just as alone as he had beneath the dwarven mines.

In any case, he persisted until, at last, he felt that the flow of kill energy had dissipated to nothing more than a trickle. By his reckoning, when he reached that point, it would take a hundred kills to equal a single defeated enemy from the first run. That meant that any additional runs would be a waste of time.

So, it was with some regret that he completed the final run.

And when he did, he checked his notifications, resulting in a tired smile spreading across his blood-covered face.