Zeke was on his last leg. Literally. His fight with the drachnid champion had torn his right thigh to shreds; strips of meaty muscle hung from it like bloody ribbons of flesh. Normally, that wouldn’t be much of an issue, considering his rapid rate of regeneration, especially when the healing was aided by the influx of vitality that came with [Leech Strike]. However, there was something pressing against his regeneration, blocking the majority of his ability to heal. Some had trickled between the gaps – enough to staunch the bleeding, at least – but the flesh stubbornly refused to knit back together.

Poison, probably. He’d felt the tingling numbness a few times during the fight, but he’d been so focused that he’d summarily ignored it. Now, though, he could think of little else, especially considering that he was facing a veritable army of drachnids who were howling for his head.

“Guess they didn’t like me killing their champion,” he mused, his voice little more than an inaudible mutter amidst the screeches and clicks that characterized the drachnids’ speech.

Zeke considered the loot he’d gotten from the champion. In addition to the typical smattering of carapace, faceted eyes, and teeth he usually got from the drachnids, he had also received an [Intact Poison Gland], [Carapace of the Drachnid Champion], and [Claws of the Spider-Lord]. It was a good haul, as far as he could tell, though he couldn’t spare the attention to examine any of it more closely because all at once, the army of drachnids surged forward.

If Zeke’s fighting style had depended on movement, he would’ve died right there. However, because he was used to simply planting his feet and meeting strength with strength, he managed to hold his own, despite the fact that he couldn’t put any weight on his wounded leg. His mace was a blur as he blocked, parried, and struck back against the tide of arachnids, the strength of his mighty blows enough to crack their thick, armor-like carapaces, destroy their ridged faces, or detach their insectile limbs.

But like with the champion, he didn’t come out unscathed. Slowly, his lack of mobility began to show itself, and he accumulated a host of shallow wounds. Alone, they weren’t enough to slow Zeke down. But after ten? Fifteen? Even twenty? Anyone would feel that effect.

The only saving grace was that his [Leech Strike] continued to work, though at a near-crippled level. Where before each landed strike flooded him with a veritable tide of vital energy, the poison reduced it to a mere stream. It was unequal to the task of dealing with the totality of his wounds, but it still managed to take the edge off and keep him from succumbing due to blood loss.

Zeke was exhausted, though. Not only had he spent the better part of that morning tirelessly bludgeoning a swarm of bloodthirsty drachnids, leaving hundreds of the creatures dead, but he’d also fought the most difficult opponent he’d ever faced. He had barely escaped his battle with the champion alive, much less unscathed. And now, he was back to fighting the horde of spider-like humanoids again, with scarcely a break in between. His arms were like lead, and his chest heaved like a bellows.

Until that point, Zeke hadn’t realized how much he’d relied on [Leech Strike] to see him through. On the surface, it wasn’t a very powerful skill. It didn’t add much damage to his attacks, and without his massive strength driving it, the amount of vital energy wouldn’t have been significant enough to heal more than minor wounds. However, because its healing effect was percentage-based, its effects became overpowered to the extent that it didn’t merely heal wounds. It also fed him energy enough to stave off exhaustion. But with its effects greatly reduced by the champion’s poison, Zeke had begun to see just how much he’d taken his nearly limitless energy for granted.

But still, through exhaustion and pain, he fought on – because there was no alternative. It was either that or be overwhelmed by the monsters. And he hadn’t fought for as long as he had to simply give up to some overgrown spiders. So, summoning every ounce of his willpower, he bent himself to the task of extermination.

Every blow felled a drachnid. Whether he faced warriors, drones, scouts, or burrowers, he didn’t give an inch. He even killed a smattering of alphas who, after fighting the champion, didn’t really live up to their name. Slowly, he made progress – picking up plenty of injuries along the way. Zeke ignored them, instead splitting his focus between fighting the battle and wrestling with the steady stream of vital energy he siphoned from the drachnids.

It wanted to spread out through his mana channels to equally attend to his many wounds. Zeke wouldn’t let it, though. It was like wrestling with a thousand wet noodles, each a mind of their own, but through an effort of will, he managed to gradually redirect them into a mighty river that led to his ruined thigh.

It met a dam of pure, malevolent energy. The poison, unless Zeke was grossly mistaken. The vital energy battered against it, eroding it bit by bit, but it was a potent barricade, and it wouldn’t be pummeled into submission so easily.

Seconds passed into minutes, and minutes passed into more than an hour, and still, Zeke pressed on. Hundreds of drachnids fell before him, but he paid them little heed. His mind was instead occupied by a different battle, one against an ephemeral blockade of hostile energy. He pushed the energy into a more concentrated stream, the resulting density digging into that poisonous dam. It cracked, a tiny, barely noticeable thing that soon spiderwebbed across the entire blockade.

Then it began to crumble.

Bit by bit, it fell apart, but Zeke knew – whether by instinct or via some arcane knowledge he’d picked up during his fight, he couldn’t be sure – that if he let up for even a moment, it would rebuild itself. Then, he’d have to start all over again. So, he continued his internal battle, even while he mindlessly waged war against the swarm of drachnids.

Zeke lost track of time. One enemy blended into the next. Whether it was the dam of poisonous energy or the spider-like monsters, it didn’t matter. Zeke knew only the battle, and slowly, he began to win. Even as the monsters began to thin, the last vestiges of the poison broke down, dissipating into harmless motes. Suddenly, the trickle of vital energy became an inevitable tide, washing away even that and flooding him with energy and healing.

With every blow, Zeke’s wounds healed. His once-ruined leg became whole, the ribbons of flesh clinging together until they became muscle. Over that new, exposed muscle crept fleshy skin, covering it in its protective embrace. Minor wounds across Zeke’s body followed suit, closing and healing, bit by bit, blow by blow, until, at last, he stood whole. The process took hours, during which he continued his war on the drachnids, but in the end, he stood victorious over both the horde of monsters and the wounds inflicted by the champion.

He stood there, feeling both exhausted and full of vitality, all at the same time. His skin crawled with unspent energy, a jittery feeling not all that dissimilar from what he’d feel if he’d been drinking coffee all day. But as fresh as his body might feel, his mind swam in a sea of fatigue – and for good reason. The battle had been as much mental as physical, and he’d worn himself out on both ends. It was only because of the surge in vitality from [Leech Strike] that he’d managed to remain upright.

At some point during his battle, Pudge had joined him. Zeke glanced down to see the bear cub, who had a particularly long insectoid appendage in his mouth. Pudge shook it, looking like nothing so much as a dog with an overlarge toy.

“Gross,” came Abby’s voice. Zeke turned and saw her picking her way through the piles of dead drachnids. Quite a few had silvery arrows in them, but even the ones Zeke saw were rapidly dissipating into motes of mana that then faded away into nothingness. Abby’s attention was on Pudge, who seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit. “And kind of cute, too. You know, if it wasn’t for all the murder and whatnot.”

The slim blonde approached, asking, “You okay? You seemed like you were in another world for a while. And you ruined another set of armor, by the way.”

Zeke looked down at his shredded, leather breastplate. It was barely hanging together, and his pants were in a similar state of disrepair. The only pieces of his pilfered gear that remained unaffected – aside from his stalwart mace, Voromir, of course – was his boots. But even they hadn’t escaped the battle without damage; his left boot – and his calf, he supposed – had a claw driven clean through it. Zeke bent down and yanked it out. Abby winced at the disgusting squelch that came with it.

“I’m alright,” Zeke said. “I got poisoned for a minute, though. I had to deal with that for a while.”

“Of course you did,” she said, shaking her head, her high ponytail swinging back and forth. “Which one poisoned you, though? I was hit a couple of times, and I didn’t notice anything.”

That’s when Zeke noticed that Abby’s armor was a little worse for wear as well. She had a few long gashes along her midriff, exposing the skin beneath her leather breastplate, as well as a couple on her arms and thighs. She even had a small splash of blood tracing a line along her cheek.

“You okay?” Zeke asked, eyeing the evidence of Abby’s wounds.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “That skill of yours is really handy. I don’t think I’d have made it without it. Pudge definitely wouldn’t have, the little berserker. No sense of self-preservation. Just all attack, all the time.”

Vaguely, Zeke recalled feeling Pudge’s pain through their bond, but he’d been so focused on dealing with the poison that he hadn’t paid it much attention. Luckily, the bear cub was durable and had access to [Leech Strike], otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. Zeke didn’t even want to think about that, but he couldn’t help himself. His bond with the bear cub was more than what one would expect between a person and a pet. They were companions, and Zeke could feel emotions and thoughts through their bond. Their souls were intertwined in a way he couldn’t even begin to understand, and his stomach twisted itself into knots when he thought of going on with his life, should the cub die.

“So?” said Abby, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Zeke asked, jerking himself from his contemplation of the soul bond.

“What poisoned you?” she asked.

“Oh,” Zeke said, turning around. At some point, he’d moved about forty yards away from the fallen pillar. In that space, there were dozens of drachnid corpses, but around the pillar was clear, and the part of the champion’s body that hadn’t been crushed by the falling rocks was still visible. Zeke pointed, saying, “That.”

Abby stared at it, obviously examining with her inspection skill. She gasped, saying, “That…t-that was an elite.”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair – or at least, he tried to. He only got a few inches before his fingers got tangled up in the blood and gore that had suffused his locks. “Hit like a freaking truck,” he said. “Faster than me, too. If it wasn’t for that big rock pillar, I doubt I’d have survived.”

That much was true, and Zeke knew precisely how lucky he was to have come out of that fight alive. Thinking about how close he’d come to dying, Zeke couldn’t help but shiver a bit. But amidst that natural fear of mortality was a sense of pride. He’d faced that monster, and he’d won. Sure, he’d cheated a little, but that didn’t really matter, did it? No. All that really mattered was that he’d survived while his enemy hadn’t.

Abby let out a harsh laugh, saying, “I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised at anything you do anymore. Fighting an elite at level thirteen? Sure. Why not? That’s totally normal.”

Zeke shrugged. “Not like I sought it out,” he said. “It kind of just ambushed me.”

“That’s what I’m saying, though,” Abby said, shaking her head in disbelief. “If an elite ambushed me, I wouldn’t last more than a second. It would rip me to pieces without even slowing down. But you killed one. You’re two levels lower than me, and you beat it. That’s so far outside of normal that…that…I don’t even know!”

She ended with a huff.

Zeke had no idea how to respond. In his old life, before he’d died, he had dealt with that kind of thing before. When he was twelve, he was playing on a team with sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds – and excelling. People had been gawking at his ability to exceed external expectations all his life. So, it wasn’t really all that different when his actual power exceeded what someone might expect from his level. He should’ve been used to it. But the way Abby looked at him – almost like he was a different species altogether – unnerved him in a way nothing ever had before.

“Whatever,” she said. “I don’t suppose you saw the queen anywhere, did you? Maybe she’s buried under another pile of rock somewhere?”

Zeke managed a grin, saying, “Nope.”

“Fine,” Abby said. “Then, we’ve come this far, right? Might as well end this.”

Zeke couldn’t agree more.

Even though looting the drachnids only required a touch and a mental command, there were enough of them that it still took more than an hour to clear the bodies. After that, Zeke wrangled Pudge away from the puddles of gore, and the three of them made their way back to the basin. Behind the giant pillar at its center was a gaping hole, yawning like the maw of some gargantuan beast.

“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Abby muttered. “Was that there before?”

Zeke shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said. “Maybe?”

Before, the basin had been flooded with so many drachnids that it was more than possible that the hole had been hidden by the press of arachnid bodies – especially given that they’d been some distance away when they’d scouted the horde. Now, though, there was only a scattering of corpses, most of which had been blown apart by Zeke’s runic rocks.

“Don’t suppose you have something else up your sleeve, do you?” Abby asked, glancing in his direction. “Maybe a nuclear warhead we can just drop into that hole?”

Zeke answered, “If I had a couple of weeks, I might be able to put something together…”

Abby gaped at him, and Zeke laughed. She punched him in the shoulder, saying, “I wouldn’t put it past you. Seriously, though – any ideas on how to tackle whatever’s in there?”

“Not a clue,” he said. “I’m not usually much for plans, honestly.”

“You can say that again,” said Abby. Pudge snorted in agreement. “Your big plan for dealing with an army of drachnids was to throw some rocks at them.”

“But it worked, didn’t it?” he said.

“Only because you’re a monster,” she muttered. Then, she gestured to the gaping hole. “So, I guess you want to just climb down there and pummel the queen into submission, huh?”

Zeke said, “If it ain’t broke…”

With a huff, Abby said, “Fine. Whatever. But you’re going first.”