Chapter 689 - Bloody Wake

“You’re not going to get pissed if I slaughter a bunch of assholes in your little city, are you?” Zeke asked aloud. 

“Who are you talking to?” asked Eveline.

“The Waymaster.  I know he’s watching.  And I really don’t want to offend him just yet,” Zeke insisted. 

“Just yet?”

“That’s what I said.”

Despite feeling that the Waymaster was indeed watching – or more importantly, listening – there was no response.  Zeke decided to take that as tacit approval for what he intended to do.  Meanwhile, the twenty people approached from the rear, while another group came from the front. 

He glanced left and right, but there were no alleys through which he could escape.  Instead, there were a pair of enormous buildings on either side.  Not that he was looking for a way out.  As far as he was concerned, if someone was dumb enough to attack him, then they deserved to be utterly destroyed.  There would be no mercy.  No quarter.  Only obliteration. 

He rolled his shoulders.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun, though.  Certainly, he could atomize them each group with a single skill, but that just didn’t feel right.  He wanted a fight.  Not an execution. 

So, he planted himself in the center of the empty street and waited.  That surprised his would-be attackers, and they approached cautiously. 

All but one, at least.  A singular figure separated himself from all the rest and swaggered toward Zeke.  As he did, Zeke got a chance to get a good look at him.  Green skinned, he looked like someone had crossed a snake with an elf, and he moved with a sinuous grace that even Zeke had to admire. 

Yet, he didn’t feel overtly powerful. 

A lesser god, sure.  And not a weak one.  But given Zeke’s power, that wouldn’t be enough. 

When the man drew to within thirty feet, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a glittering item that he tossed at Zeke’s feet. 

“Be a good lad and put those on without a fuss,” he hissed, his accent sounding odd.  There was a translation there, but it wasn’t as perfect as it once might have been.  Zeke blamed the fact that he’d slowly moved away from the Framework.  It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed something like that, and he knew it wouldn’t be the first.  “Come quietly, and we’ll treat you right.  Resist, and…well, it won’t end well for you, I’ll tell you that much for free.”

Zeke glanced down at the item, seeing a pair of crystalline cuffs.  They were connected by a gossamer thread. 

“And what are those?” he asked, looking up at the green-skinned man.  On second inspection, he saw that the man had scales. 

“Security.  Can’t have you thinking you can just run off, now can we?  You’re ours now, and you’re going to use all that high-grade divine energy to make us rich.  If you do good, we’ll reward you.  Treasures.  Mates.  Whatever you want,” he promised.  “Just so long as you keep the energy coming.”

“If I refuse?”

The scaled man laughed.  “There is no refusal.  Only the easy way or the hard way.”

“And what’s the hard way?”

“I come over there and put those on you myself.  And I won’t be gentle.  Nobody says you need all your limbs to channel divine energy, right?  Technically speaking, you don’t need arms and legs at all.”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair.  The longer he talked to the brigand – for that was what he was – the better he felt about killing him.  Most of the time, he didn’t really feel much guilt.  He usually killed because he had to kill.  But there had been a few instances where that wasn’t the case. 

This would not be one of those. 

Sure, he could disable the scaled man – and all his allies – without putting them down permanently, but they didn’t deserve such treatment.  They were enemies.  His and the entirety of the Nexus.  As far as he was concerned, he would be doing everyone a favor by killing the bandits.

So, without further consideration, he summoned Voromir to hand and said, “I don’t think I’ll accept your offer.”

“The hard way, then.”

“Seems so.  This is the point where I should probably warn you.  When I should just tell you to turn around and walk away.  But I won’t do that.  Not because I know you wouldn’t take that advice.  You won’t, but that’s not why I’m not going to bother to go down that road,” Zeke said.  “No – I’m hoping you’ll go through with it because I want the fight.  I want to break your bones and, in the end, kill you.  The same goes for all your people too.  The ones creeping up from behind.  The few you have in those buildings to either side.  And those poor idiots behind you as well.”

“You know they’re there?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Zeke answered.

“You didn’t run.”

“I don’t need to.”

Without further delay, the scaled man erupted into motion.  He was fast.  Faster than Talia at her best.  But Zeke had been remade by his descent through the circles of hell, and he’d come out the other side as a Primordial.  So, while he wasn’t quite as fast as the snake man, the gap wasn’t so wide between them that he couldn’t keep up.

When the bandit leader came close, his mouth wide to reveal a set of fangs dripping with venom, Zeke’s hand snapped out to close around his thin neck.  Then, he squeezed. 

The man’s spine snapped.

He spasmed a few times before falling limp. 

Zeke looked at him for a long moment, and time felt as if it stood still.  Not like it did when he used [Steps of Creation].  Rather, it was a more mundane stoppage of time, of the sort he’d experienced a handful of other times throughout his life.  It was like when he hit the homerun in the state championship game back home.  As the ball flew through the air, it had felt like everything was moving in slow motion. 

This was similar. 

He let out a sigh as a half-hundred other skills slammed into him.  Fireballs.  Spears of ice.  Bludgeons of pure kinetic force.  And a dozen other manifestations of power.  They all hit him at the same time. 

Some of them even twinged a bit.

When the dust settled, though, he was entirely unharmed.  That’s when the bandits realized they’d bitten off far more than they could chew.  They broke.

Zeke had no interest in allowing their escape.  So, he embraced [Steps of Creation], and the world slowed.  Reality shook as he stepped toward one group, and he covered a hundred feet in less than an instant.  Then, he was among the bandits.

Most were lesser gods – with an emphasis on lesser.  Zeke could have slaughtered them even before his descent.  Which meant that now, they were absolutely no threat to him.  And under the influence of [Steps of Creation], his every movement sent ripples of destructive energy arcing throughout the street.  The closest among them simply burst into white flames, then ceased to exist, but the furthest exploded in showers of viscera.

He never even had to touch a single one, and they were all dead before the skill dissipated.

Which was incredibly annoying.

“A bit bloodthirsty today, are we?” Eveline remarked.

Zeke ignored her, whipping around to see the retreating backs of the other group.  That would not do at all, so he harnessed the entirety of his physical abilities and threw himself forward as fast as he could go.

And when he pushed himself like that, he could move extremely quickly.

He caught the first of them in less than a second, and that’s when the slaughter began.  The bandits couldn’t even begin to resist him, though some did try.  They hacked at him with pitifully simple weapons, tossed underpowered skills at him, and even tried to use a variety of movement skills to escape his wrath.

None of it worked.

And in the end, Zeke painted the street with their blood and entrails. 

In a lot of ways, it was cathartic.  He felt the relief down to his core – which should have been a little alarming.  Had he always been so battle-frenzied?  Or had something changed about him?

“You fought your way through Hell for, subjectively, thousands of years.  Of course something changed, Ezekiel,” Eveline stated.  “You’re still a ragged edge.  You can’t expect to leave your experiences behind just because you stayed in an inn for a few days.  You have to realize that.”

He steadied his breathing as he replied, “I guess you’re right.  But I don’t know if I want to leave all of it behind.  Besides, that’s not what I was asking.”

“Then what were you asking?”

“I’m talking about if something inherently changed about me.  I know I’m quicker to jump into a fight.  I know I’m more violent.  And I’m definitely desensitized to it all,” Zeke explained.  “That’s a normal reaction to what I’ve been through.”

“There is nothing normal about you.”

Zeke sighed.  “Not time for a joke, Eveline,” he stated.  “My point is that those things might be extreme, but they’re logical.  What I’m talking about is the chance that I’m becoming…I don’t know how to put it…”

He took a deep breath.  “You know about Greek gods, right?”

“Mmhmm. Myths from your old world.  Explanations for natural phenomena that –”

“So, in those stories, each god had purview over something.  Zeus held dominion over the sky.  Poseidon controlled the seas.  That kind of thing.”

“I’m aware.”

“But they were also unchangeable.  They were what they were.  They couldn’t adapt.  They could never be anything but themselves.  Their flaws would always be their flaws, and their strengths would never turn to weaknesses.  I’m worried that that’s what I’m becoming,” Zeke admitted.

“Those are just stories, Ezekiel.”

“Are you sure?  Like really sure?  There’s no chance that I’ll meet some god running around that closely resembles Zeus and somehow influenced Earth’s mythology?” he asked. 

“Seems unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“No.  Not impossible.”

“My point is that it feels like every time I’m given a problem, my first instinct is to trample it.  I just want to fight, even when it might not be the best answer,” Zeke admitted.  “Every time I look back, I realize that I could have done things differently.  Maybe I could have taken a diplomatic tact.  Or I could have just run away.  But I always choose to fight.  I thought I was okay with that.  I still think that.  Sort of.  But what if I don’t have a choice?  What if this is just who I am now?  Maybe I’m destined to be a god of war or something.”

“The fact that you’re worried about it means that it’s probably not true,” Eveline said gently. 

“But it’s not out of the question.”

“Nothing is, Ezekiel.”

“I just want some surety,” he sighed.

“Nothing in this universe is sure, Ezekiel.  You know that.  The moment you start to think that it is, you’ll be surprised and make a deadly mistake.  You can’t afford that,” she explained.

“I know.”

“Then stop whining about things you can’t change, and start thinking about what’s important,” she said.

“Killing the other major gods and advancing,” he guessed.

“No, you idiot.  I’m talking about going home.  Your friends are waiting on you,” she said.  “Don’t you want to see them?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“Yes you do.  You’re afraid of what might happen.  I understand that.  But you very much want to see them.  You need a reunion.  So, put your big-boy pants on and let’s go home,” she said. 

Zeke almost argued with her, but then he thought better of it.  She was right.  As afraid of what he might find when he resummoned the tower in Oberon’s domain, he very much wanted to see his friends and family.  So, without further ado, he continued on his way, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake.