◈ Chapter 85:

He slumped against the cleaver, breathing ragged, blood flowing from his mouth without end. He raised a shaking paw to his neck, that hadn't come without a cost, it felt like someone had taken razor blades to his throat, slashing up his insides. He felt he wouldn't be opening the gates again anytime soon. As his paw fell away from his neck several shrouds of shadow seeped from the gore surrounding him and steadily made their way up to his mane, rejoining the darkness there, the remains of his floating wolf teeth returned. He pulled the spear that had been pinning his arm free and tossed it aside.

Turning, he found the giant still standing, looking down in dismay at its shins which were currently bubbling and disintegrating.

Rain stepped away from the cleaver and rolled his claws, scythes following along smoothly. He strode up the dune of gore that had piled up around him. He raised his claws as the giant fell, its head aligned with the peak of dune.

The giant screamed and its face fell atop him, Rain’s paws moved in a blur, cutting and dicing and digging. The Demon’s head liquified around him, sloughing away into grains of butchery and adding to the dune, building it higher.

Then it was done. The giant was dead, and Rain remained, a blood soaked thing atop a mound of gore in a lake of blood that flooded the square and the many ruined streets around.

He stood and stared at his conquest.

Blood, so much blood. Rivers of blood, lakes of blood. Yes, this felt right, this was how things were supposed to be, how they had been in ages past. The Apex predator hunted the world, for all were equal in that they were all equally below him, the wolf saw no difference between the rabbit and the fawn, they were all the same, all prey, all food.

Something shifted in his paw and he looked down to find a piece of the giant's flesh wiggling and quivering between his paw pads, trying to get away.

He put it in his mouth and chewed, then he swallowed.

“......Wow that tastes awful.”

Rain blinked. Wait, what had he just been thinking about? Apex predator? How things had been in ages past? He furrowed his brow in confusion. Those thoughts weren't something that were naturally his, he was sure.

He was disturbed from his pondering by a noise behind him, a flash of motion out of the corner of his eye. He jerked aside. Too late. A slab of rough iron took him across the back and he was smashed down the dune, sent rolling, his shoulder blade splitting under the impact. He crashed to the ground below in a great splash of blood, rolling until he came to a stop.

With a groan he flopped onto his back and then after a moment of struggling lifted his head.

“I’m not even sure you are a monster anymore, you're not a mutant, or a multi-evolver, I know. You’re something else entirely. Perhaps that is why I sense that killing you will break my level cap. You are outside the system’s rules, unaccounted for.”

The Ranker stood at the top of the red dune. He looked… different. His once Fel Fire filled eye socket was now a black void, empty. More disturbing though were the pair of cut off horns that had part grown from his forehead, two fat curving tubes that ended in flat cut discs, green, the same color of the fire. The cost apparent of what he had done.

His left arm hung limp at his side, blood seeping from the gaps in the plate. Rain had little doubt the inside was a blended mess, the bones and flesh shredding themselves as they had tried to flee but being kept inside by the armour. The Ranker had his giant sword resting on his shoulder, his right arm raised holding it up. He shrugged his shoulders and then spat to the side. Then he stepped forward and casually slid down the side of the dune, sabatons creating long furrows in the gore. As he did so Fel Fire washed up from his neck, a great helm forming over his face, fitting over his horns and adding a crown of spikes to each, entirely covering him from head to toe in green metal armour. A green knight.

Rain climbed to his feet, cracking his neck. Then he held his scythe claws out and charged, bounding then leaping through the air, darkness pouring from his mane, forming sets of rabid snapping wolf teeth flying in a pack around him as he moved, hungry to hunt.

The Ranker bellowed and swung, Rain twisted to the side, going for his wounded arm. The ranker grunted and hauled back on his sword, twisting it to block. CLANG! the scythes crashed against the blade in a spray of sparks, the blades running down the blunt edge. Rain aimed to rip into the Ranker’s armour, sliding his scythes toward his arm, the Ranker pulled back on his sword then booted Rain in the gut sending him stumbling back, as he did so the dozen sets of wolf teeth slammed into him, crashing into the armour, biting into it, arms, legs, shrieking metal and fountaining sparks filling the air as the teeth bit down. The Ranker snarled and just straight up ignored them, barely slowing, he was too strong, his armour too thick.

The ranker lurched forward, still covered in dark teeth, swinging his blade up forcing Rain to defend, the sword striking across the scythes. Rain flinched back as they were pushed toward him, near being impaled on his own weapon. He grit his teeth and pushed back. To his surprise he made headway, the Ranker not quite so overwhelming, the teeth limiting the Ranker’s insane strength to some degree. Still, he found his attacks thwarted, the Ranker expertly shifting his center of balance into the optimal positions to leverage against Rain despite the restriction, deflecting his swipes, knocking aside his paws, head butting if he closed the distance, the green helm crashing against exposed bone.

Rain's frustration was growing. The Ranker didn't even need an advantage of strength, he was an expert swordsman and Rain was beginning to wear down, his heavily injured body starting to falter, each motion widening his wounds. Rain had never used a sword or had any training in any weapons of any kind in his previous life and as much as the scythes were an extension of his natural predator they were also weapons, and when it came to weapons he was vastly out experienced.

His problem was the sword, it was frustrating his every move, keeping him blocked in, controlling him. Well, if weapons weren't the answer then it was time to return to basics.

He lunged into the Ranker’s attack, paws reaching out, and he took hold of the blade, both real paws and dark paws grabbing hold of it, wrapping around it, holding it in place. The Ranker tried to rip his weapon free but Rain held on tight. Then he opened his maw wide, lines of blood stretching between the remains of his teeth and bit down on the blade.

Hard, unimaginably hard. He now knew viscerally why the Ranker used this weapon. It was ridiculously strong, not iron but something else, indestructible.

No matter. He snarled and bit down harder, his remaining teeth grinding against the metal, sparks spilling around his mouth as the Ranker jerked and hauled on the sword, then unable to pull free, started kicking at him. Rain ignored his attacks as best he could, pushing on.

He increased the pressure, then doubled it, then doubled it again until it felt like his jaw muscles were screaming. Until his teeth were starting to hairline fracture, about to shatter.

It wasn't going to be enough, too strong.

He lifted what remained of his lip and a wisp of darkness surged up from his mane and leapt into his mouth, darkness coating his remaining teeth and then solidifying to create new teeth, a mouth full of dark teeth.

He doubled the pressure again, then tripled it, then quadrupled it until his jaw muscles were starting to shred apart. A long terrible screech came from the metal and then with an ear-splitting crack and a crunch, the metal started to give, fractures shooting up and down its length, as an orange-red light spilt through.

“What have you done!” cried the Ranker.

Rain blinked and then the world went white as the sword exploded.