193. Core (V)

He woke to a notification.

𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!

𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟚𝟘𝟘.

He felt his Core instantly. A sphere of shining light—more in the Astral plane than in the physical, but he felt it. Tied deeply to his body. All his essence flowed through it the way his blood flowed through his heart.

And this heart pumped strong. It was hard to look at straight-on. It took a moment to adjust. Essence was lifeblood, an expression of the soul. Everything it touched grew stronger.

His body felt new, like he'd traded up some beat-up old car for the latest model. A new engine ran inside of him, pumped through every fiber of his being, refreshing him. Imbuing him with untold strength, untold vigor. He could feel it whirring softly, dormant now—but ready to flare at a moment's notice.

He marveled at it.

He lay there waiting for a Class evolution. They'd come before at 50, 100… none now, though.

Somehow he got the feeling one was coming pretty soon. They seemed to happen at clean numbers. 250, maybe?

Slowly the world filtered in around him. He felt like everything was light, weightless, like he'd been dreaming. He blinked dumbly for a few seconds. He'd really done a number on his soul back there.

He felt fine right now though.

Better than fine. Totally relaxed, like he'd been through a deep-tissue massage for the soul. A warmth washed gently over him, wrapping him up. Someone was pouring warmth into him, pouring essence—he knew who it was. He could feel her tender feelings for him, her worry too, coming through clear. Whenever Reina healed him it felt like their souls were very close.

He found himself in a familiar spot. It was getting to be one of his favorite spots.

His head lay on her soft lap. Her soft hands were on his chest. Her own ample chest pressed gently over his face. She was cradling him in her softness, doing her best to take care of him. She smelled good, like wildflowers and fresh grass.

He really did not want to move right now.

But he knew he had to go. He had a job to do.

Reluctantly, he sat up.

Reina's healing had gotten quite good. He'd battered himself in that breakthrough—he felt fresh, though, other than the exhaustion in his soul. Her own breakthroughs were paying off.

He wondered how it'd feel in battle.

She gave a relieved smile when he woke—a very pretty one, lighting up her big almond eyes. It hadn't been long since he blacked out apparently. Just an hour. She didn't need to ask him how it went. She knew. She said she could feel that new vigor in his body too. It was like nothing she'd ever felt—she barely had to do any bodily healing. She spent most of her time on his soul.

She quickly got him up to speed. Avery and Evan had already gone out to help with the defense. They'd powered up a lot too since their last outing. And they were like Reina in the sense that they had a strong sense of right and wrong. Justice, that kind of thing.

Of all of them only Zane didn't have that strong sense, now that he thought about it. He mostly just wanted to fight. But he knew if Reina heard him say that she'd disagree. She was always biased when it came to him. She always told him she liked him first and foremost because he had a 'big heart'. Zane always found this pretty dubious. He didn't even know what that meant.

She was still holding him. She could tell what he was thinking.

"You're going for that Monster Knight."

Zane nodded.

He felt an old heat starting to simmer in his chest. He was thinking about the Monster with the black axe. It had come to challenge him in his own home. It had broken down the doors. And sat there brazenly. Waiting.

It was time to answer that challenge.

Zane told her he was going to destroy it. He was firm on it.

She was quiet for a bit. He could feel how intensely worried she was. She was thinking about how that thing had crushed Irina Volkova. It shook her badly—she was scared it could happen to him—she'd probably imagined it, against her will, a lot these past few hours.

But in the end her belief in him overwhelmed the feeling, like it always did.

She had this faith in him even he didn't really get. She knew he could be hurt. But she just didn't believe, to the core of her being, that he could ever be beaten.

She was such a reasonable person most of the time—that might be the least logical thing she believed. Zane was pretty sure he could lose. Really for her it was just a matter of unshakeable faith in him.

Still. It was nice to be believed in.

She hesitated—but she nodded. She knew he had a duty. There was a fierceness in her eyes.

"I'm going with you," she said firmly.

He gave her a kiss.

They set off together for the Superdungeon's First Gate.

***

ʙᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ

ʜɪᴍᴀʟᴀʏᴀꜱ

For the past three hours, the best humanity had to offer were being pressed into an ever-shrinking circle. Faster and faster.

They had fought all through the dead of night. All through the twilight hours... it was still dark out, and there was no sign day was coming anytime soon. Raging fires made most of the light. No one there could remember the last time they slept. Heavens knew they needed it.

On the southeast front, Vanessa Volkova was still down. She hadn't woken from her coma. Her Faction, the North Star Faction—one of the strongest in the world, fielding a formidable hundred-World-Ranker army—was fast dwindling without her. They'd mount huge blizzards, pooling all their powers, to shove the Monster hordes down the slopes—with each passing wave, those blizzards shrank and shrank. Lost ground.

In the Northwest, the African army was slowly wearing down too. Their fighters were dropping, their earthen walls cracking. All the human forces were starting to coalesce in one tight circle. Their front grew so close they were almost linking arms.

In the Northeast, the Japanese forces were led by the Sky Painter Yuki Urabe, World Rank #6, the youngest World Ranker—and some said among the most talented. He was painting frescoes mid-air, something colorful winds, drawing open deep chasms in the earth, painting Monster bosses into his grisly paintings, then making those paintings come to brutal life.

He did it all with one arm, panting hard. He had been flowing through everything at the start—but now he'd long lost the illusion of effortlessness. His long dark hair was matted with his own blood.

Cristina Dos Santos, World Rank #7, shored up the south along with her militia. She was a human armory. Her body could have been 10,000 samurai swords, every point sharpened to a killing edge. In close combat, she wielded Laws of Razor Winds, Wind and Steel fused—her Sabertooth Godbeast Bloodline gave her the power to fatally wound even Core bosses. But she was badly wounded too, hobbling on one leg—the other was blackened with poisons. Her warriors filled in the gap, throwing tornadoes down the slopes, trying to buy her time to recover...

The Spitfire Monk, Jian Shi Ming, stood side by side with his Temple monks—all of them clad in bloodied robes, wielding flaming staffs. He was carved so bloody he was more red than pink, but he was laughing defiantly despite it all, slapping his big belly, clenching his flaming fists. "Is that all you've got?!" he roared to a pair of Blood Imps.

But it was bluster. As it was he would not last the hour.

Base Camp was the critical battleground, a nexus of powerful teleportation portals—portals that could jump continents. If they lost this, they lost their one back door into this chunk of the world—they could no longer shuttle in fighters and mount a good defense. It was giving the doorway to Asia, and Europe, and Africa to the Monsters. They had no doubt if Base Camp fell, Eastern Europe and Northern Africa and the Tibetan plateau would fall soon after. This was the domino which could not be allowed to fall.

Yet it was looking like it would fall any moment.

Humanity's best were simply not enough. They were failing, one by one. Even as they tried desperately, throwing themselves against the endless tides of Monsters…

***

Monster horde crept up the slopes, slobbering, cackling, rumbling. This time they came for everything.

This time they came to break humanity for good.

There were the Orc Chieftains, titans of brute power with skin like max-grade Spirit Steel. And the Dire Trolls, three-headed, six-armed versions of already horrific Trolls—some awful evolved form. They moved and fought like apes. They wielded venomous Laws that blackened the limbs of all they touched.

Then there were the Blood Imps, fangs glistening. They had Laws of Blood Parasite, a grotesque fusion of Wood and Water. When they opened their mouths they called dark gales, sucking in life-force from all those in front of them.

Each of the Monsters had a certain nature, a certain aura. It radiated from their Cores. The Orc Chieftain was overbearing—it exuded a sense of grossness, bluntness, crudeness.

The Dire Trolls gave off chaos and fervor and frenzy.

The Blood Imps radiated greed, a sense of springiness, explosion, trickery...

But most of all—like all Monsters—their Core auras gave off waves of pure hatred.

Just standing in their presence, having all of those feelings crash down on them, hour after hour... it exhausted them. It drowned them.

Their spirits were breaking along with their bodies. Even the top World Rankers, the leaders, were having trouble holding it together. The Spitfire Monk put up an irreverent face, but you could see flashes of despair trickling in... Dos Santos staggered more and more with each blast... the prodigy Yuki hung his bloody head low, his hair cloaking his eyes. Hour after hour of siege, of being swamped in that awful aura, did brutal things to the mind.The only one not showing signs of cracking was Eze. But even his not showing a sign was a sign. His face grew more and more stoic. His mouth set in grimmer and grimmer lines...

"Forgive me. But we must consider retreating, my Lord," gasped Ade. His second-in-command looked ready to drop. Eze had sharply rebuked him for even suggesting it a few hours ago. Now, he was silent.

"The Japanese and the Brazilians agree—they've urged me to try to convince you. Perhaps... perhaps it is necessary to admit when we've lost. Gather our strength for the morrow. We simply lack the firepower... if there comes another wave like that one, I'm not certain..."

He trailed off. Eze was not looking at him—his Lord was watching the horizon. Dark circles trailed under his eyes.

The sky was starting to lighten.

Eze stood there still. Like he was waiting for a sign—amid all the clashing, the shouting, the spraying blood, the Skills flying, Laws blasting, the stifling mass of Core auras rolling over one another...

He stood there, watching as the sun came over the mountain-tops. Cresting the eastern horizon, lighting up the icy mountains, making them seem like great big icicles burning at the tips. Throwing the first warm rays of sunrise over the crimson battlefield.

"My lord?" said Ade.

"The sun," said Eze softly. "It rises. In the east."

He closed his eyes. He seemed to think this was enough of an answer.

A heartbeat. Two. Three…

And then—in at the very center of Base Camp—the teleporters, long-dormant, lit up.

A new aura roared into the world.

An aura so domineering it took the breath away—an eruption of raw power, so much it seemed to overflow the world itself, crashing over the rest of them like mighty ocean waves crashing over the sands. An aura built to shoulder the weight of the world.

It washed over those dozens of Core Monster Boss auras. And simply overpowered them. Dominated them. Suppressed them. Until it flared over them all, flared over the world. Supreme. Standing alone. Rising like a new sun against the brightening sky…

The fighting screeched to a halt.

And all those widening eyes looked toward the center.

The humans hearts soaring, not daring to believe, not daring to hope—the Monsters, in an uncomprehending shock—then an uncomprehending fear—

"Surely—surely not—" gasped Ade.

A big man came through the portal. The moment he did that aura flared out in full.

The moment he did it was as though he took all that pressure—all that Monstrous aura—and destroyed it. As though he took all humanity's despair, all that crushing fear—took humanity itself and put it all on his broad back.

Hundreds of hopeless hearts lightened as one. Men sank to their knees in the bloody snow. Voices cried out in shock, in joy…

Emeka Eze gave a weary smile.

"Zane Walker has entered the battle."