Brock’s very brain trembled with exertion as he resisted the horrifying presence of the new arrival. Fresh torrents of blood gushed from his ear canals as its long neck swayed high in the sky, carrying a roar so deafening that even the ground itself cracked and splintered. Brock was almost certain that shit had just hit the metaphorical fan. Twice.

[E] Gor’eth Kung, The Tyrant of the Underworld (LVL 104)

He hadn’t really thought about what came after F Grade before, but he now knew it was fear. That was what he could feel. This beast was unlike Ur’Kahn and unlike Little Shit. It wasn’t a mere animal; it was a true Tyrant. Powerful, overwhelming. It seemed that the disparity between F and E was more than just mere levels.

It was absolute power.

A savage gust of wind buffeted Brock’s hair as the dust was immediately dispelled, revealing the sweeping wings of Gor’eth Kung. Molten scales, a monstrous reptilian maw. Thousands of jagged fangs. Brock gulped and was unable to keep himself from shuddering. He was looking at a dragon, and its slitted yellow eyes were looking right back at him.

Actually… it looks more like a Wyvern…

The beasts’ wings were connected to its two lanky front legs, and while it was an insignificant detail, Brock felt focusing on anything but what he needed to focus on was helping him keep himself together. The scaled lips of the reptile peeled back, revealing its ivory fangs in all their splendor. Brock tried to snort, but the sound caught in his throat. Clearly, the beast was grinning.

Fortunately for him, and more so everyone else, the terrible creature’s aura retracted itself back into its body, restoring movement back to those that were affected. The streaks of flame wisped away into streaks of energy and the flows of magma quickly lost their glow and hardened. Men and women alike swiftly filled the silence with their screams of agony, barely holding on as their bodies were chewed through by the lava and encapsulated as it dried.

The frontline was in disarray. The archers and ranged support had been shed from the wall, and those that weren’t were left trembling with fear, unable to move despite the release of their bindings. On the brighter side, the appearance of the second Tyrant had shredded the ranks of the insects and left the few that were powerful enough to survive extremely weakened.

Brock wasn’t exactly sure why the weaker humans hadn’t popped like pimples too, but he deemed it a blessing that they were left untouched in that regard. Maybe it’s cause they were made with its borrowed power?

Slowly, the man returned to his feet. He saw Harry already getting back to work, finishing off the remaining Guards and defending those that were yet to regain their bearings. He looked solemnly to the reptile resting a few kilometers away. It was gargantuan, possibly exceeding 100 meters in height.

Its eyes had never left him.

Brock gulped. It was obvious to him that it was waiting for him.

Hissing out a breath, he opened his status menu and checked his level. 42. More than half the beast ahead of him, let alone the difference of Grade. Absentmindedly, Brock felt himself chilled at the possibility of more creatures of E Grade roaming about on Earth. Forget the F Grade Tyrants or Skin Walkers. At least people had a chance to fight those.

He closed his status and glanced to the town behind him. People were helping each other up, saving those that had been touched by magma and freeing those that were trapped. Needless to say, most were corpses. Others were snapping their comrades from their stupors while others defended them. They were a good bunch, and they cared for each other dearly, he could tell. They had bonds forged in fire.

He even spotted David, the kid he had helped dissemble that corpse. He had overheard others calling his name before. The kid wasn’t the strongest, or the bravest, but he was trying his best to help. Just like everyone else here. Harry. Fon. Margo.

Brock met the eyes of Gor’eth Kung defiantly. He too would try his best.

“Margo! You might wanna get an evacuation plan going!” he called out to her over his shoulder.

Slowly, he began stalking forward. Then jogging. Then running. Then sprinting at his full speed, blurring over the landscape. One, two, three Guards tried to halt his advance as they retreated to protect their wounded queen. A searing hand tore through their shattered chitin effortlessly. He felt his level rise by one.

Brock’s cells felt like they were on fire as he moved, each fueled with a boundless energy, revitalized. They felt endlessly hungry, and his pores felt wide and waiting. Even his Ascendancy beat with fervor, eager to feast. The entirety of his very being felt supercharged. He had no idea why, but he would gladly savor this sensation.

He hissed out a breath. Steam followed it.

The next second, his kunai snaked out and killed another insect. His arm blade then reaped the life of another, painting the ground with its organs. His level rose once more.

He killed another. And another. And one more after that. Then tore the head off another. His level grew by one.

Brock felt himself becoming faster and more powerful with each level, his speed rapidly powering him forward. His brain left his forehead feverish as he rapidly computed all the information his limbs were sending there. His fingers twitched, anxiously eager to test his mettle against the overwhelming odds.

He had made a choice. And he was going to follow that choice through to the end.

Weakly, Iz’ Takon tried to cleave him with a sweep of its blades as he passed the beast by. Effortlessly, Brock weaved around it and instead used his considerable momentum to respond with a strike of his own, his searing blade slicing halfway through ivory before he yanked it free and continued onward. The monster seemed to realize it was too weak to continue the chase. Or maybe, it was just confident that the matter would be handled.

Behind him, Brock could feel the Tyrant’s aura rapidly weakening. It was dying, that much was clear to him. The presence of his Augment refused to let it heal, and blood ceaselessly flowed from the gaping wound it had received. He grinned and quickly reached his maximum speed.

Gor’eth Kung looked even larger from up close, towering so high above the man that his knees felt weak. Each fang was larger than a school bus, and each of its eight, slitted eyes could match the size of a person or three. Slowly, as Brock approached, the beast roused itself to action.

Brock was running blind into this fight. He had no idea what stats a Wyvern would dump points into, nor did he really understand what the mythical species actually did. All he knew was basic shit from his brother. Namely, his adamant reinforcement that they ‘were not a dragon’. For all Brock cared back then, the creature may as well have been an exceptionally large log of shit.

I… wish I listened…

The distance between them was rapidly being eaten away, yet even then, the beast only rose its hand up slowly, its scaled palm blotting out the sun far above. It wasn’t hard to see that his foe wasn’t taking the fight seriously. If not for the fact Brock knew he wouldn’t either if he was that much stronger, he would have been pretty frustrat-

Huh?

The hand was gon-

An explosion of force knocked Brock off his feet and met him with a storm of dust lashing at his face. He tumbled uncontrollably, smacking the ground over and over until finally he skidded to a stop, creating a small divot in his wake. Groaning, he sat himself up and looked to the monstrous hand implanted into the ground several meters ahead of him.

There was a small crater beneath it. Brock shuddered at the inherent power the strike possessed.

“Oops. I missed.” A guttural and dry voice hit Brock’s ears like a sledgehammer, and he looked to the head of the monster, seeing the brimming mirth in each and every one of its eyes. The beast was toying with him.

…So, you can talk? Great. Now I have to deal with that too…

Brock’s arm whipped out and his kunai flashed forward, glowing with a light blue as it was empowered by his Augment of Skies. The blade impacted the magma-esque scales of Gor’eth Kung, and much to Brock’s surprise-

The weapon shattered to pieces. Glittering shards tumbled down to the earth.

“…Oh, fuck me.”

His foe chuckled deeply, the odd noise grating at his already severely damaged eardrums. Even now, he could barely hear what was being said, only being able to parse the words apart as the System’s strange translation ability also seemed to apply to lip readin-

The next second, a hand struck him from the side. Brock felt his body fold and heard several bones splinter terribly, and he shot to the side, hitting the ground rolling once more and copping a face full of dirt. He stopped in a sprawl seconds later and instantly winced, nursing his wounded ribs. They’d heal in a few hours.

In silence, he glanced up at the monster looming over him. There… really didn’t seem like there was anything he could do here.

He could detect the auras of those in the town retreating into the walls as the insects rapidly retreated in turn to defend their queen in her time of need. They seemed to be making their way toward the opposite side, probably to evacuate as he had suggested to Margo. He sensed Harry upon the wall with Fon, looking out toward his battle, even as the others fled.

They’re… waiting for me? Fucking idiots.

Brock groaned and tried to get to his feet. His ribs crackled and he fell, hissing in pain. He tried again. And again. And finally, he stood on his own two feet and gazed up at the Tyrant. Far behind them, he could sense Iz’ Takon on her final dregs, her life finally coming to an end as she struggled to stem the blood flow.

A quick glance showed she had resorted to trying to gum the wound up with her strange snot substance, although it wasn’t working as well as the monster seemed to think it would. The Guards were scrambling about frantically, trying to patch their queen up the best they could. They, unfortunately, had long missed the time for that.

Gor’eth tilted his head to the side as Brock turned back and met his eyes, “You… knew Ur’Kahn?”

Brock furrowed his brows, somewhat taken aback by the use of his werewolf opponent’s name. As if sensing his confusion, the monstrous Wyvern dropped its face down to Brock’s eyes level and huffed out a jet of steam. It slapped against his face and scalded his skin, “I can feel the Ascent of he and his sister assimilated within your own.”

There’s that word again. Slowly, he nodded, taking a step back and sluggishly sliding his Augment of Skies through his pathways as to remain covert, “You knew him?”

“The son of an old friend. Pity he’s dead,” the monster chuckled, “He always was a weak child, bound by something as useless as honor.”

Brock could practically hear the ridicule in the beast’s harsh voice. There was the slightest moment where Gor’eth’s large eyes blinked, and Brock took his chance, lunging forward and holding his arm outward. His Augment flared to life and roared throughout his pathways. A torrent of slashing maelstrom flowed out and blanketed the face of the beast.

A pronounced snort of disdain made Brock’s stomach drop. Instantly, his winds dispersed to wisps and his Augment within died down to the barest breeze, its energy having been entirely exhausted. The aura of Gor’eth Kung exploded outward and up this close, Brock felt like his brain was about to turn into a pulp and drip from his nose.

Storms of flame ravaged the land around him. Squirts of magma roared up out of the ground and torrents of ash shot into the sky out of the cavern behind them. Brock’s knees hit the ground and his foe sneered, “Pathetic.”

Through the mental anguish, Brock finally realized what it was that made the aura so oppressive. It wasn’t just the disparity of Grades, nor the raw stats – though both of the former certainly played a large part. Instead, it was the Augment that was so evidently infused into it.

It was much like what he had seen South do back in the Jungle, although it was at a much higher level. It not only suppressed the use of his Augments within its territory entirely, but also threatened to crush his mind under the monster’s own insights.

The beast’s flame was one of weight and density. It was thick and condensed, all power and no aftereffects. It was hungry like his own, yet it savored every bite with ravenous relish. The path Gor’eth had taken was undoubtedly different to Brock’s own, but still he felt inspired by its insight.

Fire was not just a beast, he now realized. It was an eco-system of gluttony and desperation. Each lick and burn was the touch of the many monsters that made up the flame. Deep within, he felt his spark brighten slightly, flickering and resisting against its restraints. Gor’eth Kung snorted and didn’t deign to respond, only open its maws wide.

Abruptly, the oppressive effects of the Augment-infused aura lifted, and Brock felt like an immense weight had been taken from his shoulders. He struggled to stand even then, but still, he rose to his feet once more and met the monster’s eyes.

Heat splashed against his face from its opened maws, making his eyes water and his skin tingle, and he could sense an Augment pooling deep down within. A cold sweat ran down the side of his forehead, but instead of shuddering, he chuckled. A familiar barrel, the last he had, flickered into existence, and without waiting for it to land, he infused it with his Skies and stomped on the button.

A savage gust carrying shrapnel and dust blew him off his feet and sent him reeling backward as the harpoon pierced into the roof of his foe’s mouth and it shuddered in pain, all eight eyes focusing onto him with rage. Gor’eth didn’t even bother to rip the nuisance out, instead rising to his full height, his arm raised high above his head.

“A dying effort. Utterly useless.”

He felt a spike of panic in the auras of Harry and Fon, and Brock gave a grim smile. Can’t say I didn’t try, I guess?

Finally, the aura of Iz’ Takon displayed her status of death, and Brock felt his pathways bulge as a flood of energy filled each and every section. 46. 47. 48. 49. He felt his Ascendancy consume the energy and grow in power. All the remaining dregs pooled up at what felt like a solid wall within the center of his ethereal heart.

It was the threshold that Harry had been speaking of. Above him, the hand began to descend.

The corpse of Iz’ Takon collapsed to the ground, crushing several of the Guards underneath her to death and filling him with a fresh burst of energy. The threshold began to bulge and crumble, and soon energy broke through, washing into his Ascendancy like a tsunami.

Level 50.

Silently, Brock clicked his tongue and looked up. Time seemed to be in slow motion as Gor’eth Kung’s monstrous limb cut downward to end his life. Brock’s eyes widened marginally as his status menu opened of its own accord and blotted out his vision. He had just barely enough time to see he had a Technique available for selection, before the Technique tab suddenly opened without his permission.

He estimated there was about two seconds before he was crushed.

Brock didn’t even get a chance to see what the options were as one was chosen, and he felt a node swiftly condense upon his Ascendancy. An intense urge from within attacked him, and Brock was moving to counter the attack with a punch of his own before he even realized what he was doing. The entirety of his aura funneled itself into his new Technique, and his fist met fiery scales.

“Salvation.”

The world became black.