Zeke battered the portcullis into scrap metal, and he didn’t waste any time before zeroing in on the dwarven leader. Even as the gaudily armored dwarf leaped at him, his sword raised an overhand attack, Zeke strode forward with the weight of inevitability on his side. His steps shook the ground like small, localized earthquakes, and Zeke pulled more earthen energy into his two skills with each footfall. The leader hit him with every ounce of momentum he could muster, but the sword blow clanged off of Zeke’s metal body without even leaving a mark. Before he could fall, Zeke aimed a lazy backhand at the attacking dwarf, and when it hit, the armored figure was sent barreling into his fellows.

They tried to scatter, but the tunnel was too narrow for any worthwhile maneuvers, and Zeke was upon them in only a moment. He swung his hammer, and armor crunched. Dwarves cried out as their bones were broken, their armor was crushed, and their bodies were pulverized. Workmanlike, Zeke advanced, slaying them more easily than he ever could have expected.

“You should have, though. These dwarves are just batteries,” she said. “Everything about them is built around funneling power into the captain. Without that, they only have their meager attributes to rely on.”

One of the dwarves tried to escape, but Zeke embraced [Center of Gravity], yanking him back into the fray. He was dead a moment later, a victim of a vicious overhand strike that crushed him into the rocky ground. One of the nimbler dwarves dove out of the way of Zeke’s next sweeping strike, coming up behind him. She aimed an attack at the back of his ankle, probably looking for some vulnerable spot. It was a good tactic, but Zeke’s colossal body was, for all intents and purposes, impervious to any attack she could bring to bear. Her weapon clanged off of his metal ankle, rebounding with enough force that the sheer vibration tore the hilt from her hands. Without even turning around, Zeke kicked her, and she went flying down the tunnel only to come to an abrupt stop when she was shattered against the portal’s dais. She twitched a couple of times before going still.

“You seem to know a lot about them,” Zeke remarked within his own mind.

Eveline responded, “It’s not that uncommon. Lots of people use that kind of technique, especially if they have a society backing them up. It’s not so different from what you do with your golems, really. Or from what the pretenders do when they drain power from their subordinates in this realm.”

“Did you do it?” asked Zeke, finishing the lead dwarf off with a forceful stomp that left nothing but a puddle of metal and rent flesh in a shallow crater.

“No. I was too solitary for that,” she admitted.

With her personality, Zeke could understand that.

“Maybe I was too empathetic, huh? Did you think of that?” she demanded with a huff. “People like me, you know. They always have! I chose not to use people as power conduits because I’m a good person. Not because of a lack of opportunity!”

“Sure, sure,” Zeke acknowledged, taking two dwarves out with a horizontal swing. The first tried to block, and the second attempted a dodge, but neither were successful. The blocker’s raised sword shattered into a thousand pieces, and the dodge was far too slow to avoid the rapidly approaching hammer. Both were killed in only a few seconds, and suddenly, there was no one else left.

Zeke hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“That was a little disappointing,” he admitted.

“You want it to be difficult?” asked Eveline.

“No. I mean, maybe? I don’t know,” Zeke answered. Was he really such a battle junkie that he couldn’t accept an easy victory? Or was it just unsatisfying to have geared himself up for a tough fight only to have his enemies fall without much resistance? He hoped it was the latter, but the former made some degree of sense as well.

“I’m just teasing. Don’t worry about it. It’s natural to be a little disappointed when something doesn’t live up to the hype,” Eveline said. “But before you start getting too upset, you should probably understand that there’s no possible way that this little fight is going to be in any way, shape, or form representative of what you might face going forward. I don’t remember much about these dwarves, but I have to imagine a society that’s lasted this long must have some real powerhouses. So, cheer up. You’ll get a good fight. I can almost guarantee it.”

Was that really what he wanted? Or did he just want to escape with minimal fuss? Logic told him to shoot for the latter, but the first promised to be far more exciting. And rewarding. He knew he’d need a lot more experience going forward, and there was no time like the present to get a jump on leveling.

“Experience. I like that term. The Framework’s ability to adapt to changing language is truly remarkable,” Eveline said. “Still, I prefer kill energy. It feels more…respectable, somehow. I once knew a demon that called it aether. Silly word for a silly demon. He was a good –”

Zeke knew what she was going to say before the words even formed, and he cut her off, saying, “Not the time, Eveline.” If he could have blushed in his colossal form, his face would have been beet red. He’d known Eveline was a succubus – and all that implied – but he hadn’t really thought about her nature.

“Such a prude,” she said with a slight chuckle. “But it’s your brain, I suppose. I’ll keep my…ah…more lascivious thoughts to myself. Unless you’re feeling –”

“Nope!”

She gave him a throaty laugh – how she managed that with a thought, Zeke wasn’t sure, but she did it all the same – before lapsing into silence. For his part, Zeke forced his own thoughts in a totally different direction as he focused on looting the dwarves. Their armor was damaged, but he hoped the metal might come in handy. For what he had planned, he was going to need a lot of it, and there was no time like the present to start gathering the materials he would require.

Looting only took a few moments, most of which was spent walking to the scattered corpses, and it wasn’t long before he’d stripped his enemies bare. That left their bodies – or more accurately, their wounds – on full display. It was anything but pleasant, looking at their bloated, discolored, and misshapen corpses, but Zeke forced himself to pay close attention to the consequences of his actions. He never wanted to forget the ugly side of killing.

“Why?”

“I don’t want it to be too easy,” he said aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the confines of the tunnel. That was a monstrous path to tread, and he refused to divorce himself so thoroughly from his humanity. Even if it felt like it would be all too easy to embrace the demon – both metaphorical and literal – inside of him.

For a second, Eveline was entirely silent. Then, she simply said, “Interesting.”

After plundering the corpses of his enemies, Zeke started to make his way up the winding tunnel that he knew would lead back to the chamber containing the slaves meant to cut a path through the coral forest and to the Spear of Desolation. Most of the residents would still be in the demon realm, ignorantly hacking away at the stone-like coral, but some would have been left behind.

After about an hour, he reached the chamber only to find that it was entirely empty. No dwarves. No slaves. Nothing.

“Well, that’s anticlimactic,” said Eveline, giving the impression that she was craning her neck around.

“Doesn’t matter,” Zeke said, glancing up at the chamber’s ceiling. It was lower than he might’ve liked, but he expected it would still suffice. And if it didn’t, he hoped it wouldn’t matter that much.

In the center of the chamber, he summoned the Crimson Tower.

Immediately, the majestic structure appeared, crushing stone buildings as it did. The ceiling was almost tall enough to contain it, but the crown of spikes at its zenith cut into the sturdy rock. Pebbles and dust rained down on Zeke’s head, impotently bouncing off his metallic shoulders. A few moments later, everything settled, and he strode forward and into the tower. Inside, thousands of kobolds waited, each and every one armed and armored for battle.

Silik stepped forward and slammed the butt of his spear into the ground. He bore a hide shield that glittered with mana, and Zeke could see the fresh paint of a runic enchantment. The legionnaire also wore a decorative headdress of bone studded with shining gems. When Zeke inspected him, he saw that his status had changed:

Silik, the Crimson General – Level 53

“Moving up in the world, huh?” Zeke asked, reaching out to grip the kobold’s shoulder. In his human form, he wouldn’t have been able to reach so high, but with [Triune Colossus] altering his size, he was actually taller than the hulking lizard man. “Congratulations.”

Silik bowed his head, saying, “We serve with diligence and fortitude.”

“Diligence and fortitude!” the collected kobolds roared, the sound hitting Zeke like a wave of force.

Zeke glanced around, seeing that every facet of the kobold civilization had turned out. There were shaman peppered here and there, and there were plenty of legionnaires as well. But the bulk of the gathered force was composed of the much smaller juveniles. They were dangerous enough – especially in a swarm – but their presence still made Zeke uncomfortable. So, he said, “The juveniles need to stay here, Silik. This battle is no place for children.”

“They are ready to sacrifice themselves for the collective,” the general stated proudly. “We are –”

“I know. I get it. But it’s not necessary,” Zeke insisted. “Leave the juveniles and their caretakers. I want elites, Silik. Anyone else will just get in the way.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Zeke’s reticence to bring the juveniles along was mostly due to the notion that children didn’t belong on a battlefield. It was a human idea, and the kobold young were more than capable of surviving on their own. That didn’t matter, though. Zeke refused to thrust children into battle, regardless of how lethal they could be.

“As you say, so we serve,” said Silik, bowing his head. He didn’t like it, though. That much was absolutely clear by the tremble in his voice. But that was fine; so long as he obeyed, Zeke was satisfied.

“Spoken like a true warlord,” Eveline remarked in his mind.

“Shut up,” was Zeke’s mental reply. Then, aloud, he asked, “Are we ready? You know what to do?”

Silik said, “Carve a path through the dwarven stronghold until we reach the crystal bridges. Wait for you to bring the others. Then, we will see the sky.”

It was a simple plan, but Zeke was self-aware enough to recognize that complexity just wasn’t his strong suit. Instead, he preferred straightforward plans that relied on well-worn concepts like superior strength, positioning, and surprise. Intricate troop movements were so far outside his realm of expertise that he knew that even trying to act as a tactician would get more people killed than it would help.

And he needed the kobolds. More, he felt a responsibility to them. He’d told the ancient wyrm that he would protect them, and he had no intention of being proven a liar.

“I expect you to keep as many alive as possible,” said Zeke. “This is your primary responsibility.”

Silik cocked his head to the side almost as if he was confused. Then, he said, “We serve.”

The others echoed his statement, and Zeke sighed.

“It’s not their fault,” Eveline said. “They’re not entirely sapient. Some are. I’m sure those shaman are closest. But they still have a little ways to go before they can think for themselves – at least beyond a simple, instinctive drive. The wyrm gave them direction, and she started them down the proper path, but there is still a gap to be bridged.”

“You think I can do it?” Zeke asked inwardly.

Eveline gave a mental shrug. “If this was a normal situation, I would say no,” she responded. “However, with the tower as well as our unique partnership, I think you have a chance. If they survive, that is. They will be outnumbered and outclassed. The dwarves will not be an easy foe to overcome.”

“Maybe. But I’ve seen them, Eveline. The dwarves, I mean. They don’t care.”

“About what?”

“Anything. They’re just going through the motions,” he explained. “At first, I thought it was just how they were. You know, a cultural thing. But the corruption, it took their drive. It weakened their connection to the earth. And now, they’re almost completely untethered and without direction.”

“It seems that way,” Eveline agreed. “But that doesn’t make them less dangerous.”

“Yes. It does,” Zeke said, looking out over the sea of kobolds gathered on the tower’s lowest floor. “Hope is a necessary facet of any fight, and the dwarves abandoned hope a long, long time ago. Besides, we’re pretty dangerous, too.”

“Indeed.”

With that Eveline went silent, and Zeke continued to look the kobolds over. Each of the legionnaires and shaman looked eager, while the juveniles and their caretakers – all much smaller than the fighters – seemed disappointed.

“How can you even tell?” the demonic spirit asked, adding that she was no expert in reptilian facial expressions. Neither was Zeke, but he suspected that his perception was keener than Eveline’s, mostly because, as a mind mage, she’d almost assuredly used her powers as a crutch. Going purely off of facial cues, she was probably a little lost.

“Intuition,” Zeke muttered.

Once he was certain that his army of reptilian warriors were as prepared as they could be, Zeke led them from the tower. A procession of powerful kobold warriors and shaman followed, filling the chamber with their numbers. Soon, everyone who needed to leave the Crimson Tower had, and he dismissed it. As it dissipated into motes of mana, a few more rocks and a more than a little dust fell upon the gathered army. They all ignored it.

When everything settled, Zeke gave the order for Silik to lead his people away. While that began, Zeke found a side tunnel and started forward on his own mission. Hopefully, things would continue to go according to plan.

But that was up to whether or not Jasper had been successful with his own task.