“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Jake, a slight tremor in his voice. “We just saw two hundred-odd Minor Gods wiped—just like that!”

  He laughed—just sheer disbelief. “He’s warm now, that’s for sure. Good grief!”

  You could barely hear him over the uproar. The screens panned to show audience reactions for a second; Princess Dya’s face filled the big screen, mouth wide open.

  Haxorax, beside her, stood expressionless, jaw clenched tight.

  It panned back to Zane.

  “Look at the man,” said Jake. “It's just a walk in the park for him. He's just having a good time out there!”

  “I’ll be damned,” said Mox. The old vet sounded rather far away.

  Already Zane was moving on to the third Chamber. A few hard steps took him halfway across the planet; by then he was fully pumped. The runes on his body were running at full capacity.

  He landed in the middle of a crypt.

  A crypt ringed by six stone tombs, intricately carved. This Chamber was much smaller than the last two. Twin moons shone in a clear night sky.

  A single white hyacinth bloomed in the middle of it all.

  “The Crypt of the Fallen Heroes,” said Jake. “As stiff a test as they come—‘til the final chamber, that is! Any predictions?”

  He gave Mox a friendly jostle of the elbow.

  “…” Mox looked sideways at him. “Look,” he said, coughing. “I might’ve given the kid a raw deal… no—I was just plain wrong on him.”

  Jake got where Mox was coming from. The old guy had a suspicion most of the modern Rising Dragons were soft; folks weren’t around to see the Dragons of his era.

  But looking at Mox now—he was a little red in the face. Yet there was a clear grudging respect there.

  “Right,” chuckled Jake. “Well, glad you found your way to the right side.”

  The thing Jake enjoyed about man-against-Monster fights was that being openly biased was quite fine.

  By now, most of mankind was at least a little biased toward Zane. As it happened, Jake Land was already fond of the guy—he was the most exciting thing that’d happened in his 800 years of commentating.

  Plus, his boss approved.

  Elias’s logic was that tickets sold better when they featured stars. So Elias was in the business of making stars—setting up these showcase events nearly every month now, mostly featuring Earthling fighters. Though Zane didn’t need much help in the star department.

  For Elias, this was just the start of it.

  “…that said,” Mox was saying. “This’ll be a big step up.”

  “That’s right,” said Jake, who’d spaced out for a moment there. “The question is—just how big?”

  “Well, he'll be facing a true team, for one,” said Mox. “A team much greater than the sum of its parts. Even those parts, by themselves… well. You’re about to see.”

  The graves began to tremble.

  ***

  The powers rose before the dead did.

  And each struck like a hammer-blow, one after another.

  A pale light that seemed to leach the color out of the world; leeched vitality wherever it touched, yellowing the grasses, whitening the barks of the trees…

  A pool of void.

  A field of red lightning.

  A fountain of sheer dark.

  And a pillar of pure unholy light, widening fast, striking deep into the skies…

  “That’s six Pseudo-Distortion Fields,” said Jake. “Put together, that's got to be getting close to the power of a true Distortion Field!”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Stacked up like that, it’s as close as he’ll get to tasting True God Power,” said Mox grimly. “It’s an appetizer, alright.”

  The scene closed in on Zane’s face.

  “Would you look at that—he’s still not the slightest bit rattled!”

  “Some men are just built like that,” said Mox.

  Zane narrowed his eyes, and the runes on his body burned hotter, brighter than they had all fight, shading a bloody light into those stacked fields.

  And his own domain exploded out.

  This time it was clear he put the bulk of his essence into it. Every Law, every Concept he had was stacked up heavy—powered by the huge wellspring of essence at his disposal.

  Two seas of power crashed down the middle of the crypt.

  “There it is,” said Jake. “We’re finally seeing Zane having to exert himself. Looks like he’s just about breaking even with them… Still—that’s one against six, and may I remind you—that man’s still an Ascendant!”

  “That party right there,” said Mox. “They were a real hero’s party, eras ago. Legendary in my time. Each was a peak Chosen, taken from six different Great Factions—all top-40 Rising Dragons, all half-step True God. They managed to kill a Monster King back then…”

  The undead heroes rose, one by one, eerie white lights in place of eyes.

  “They’ve got that ‘ring of fate’ to them,” said Mox solemnly. “Their strikes have a way of hitting true.”

  The swordsman rose first. Long, white flowing hair beneath an onyx helm. He wore a full armor set—all peak Heaven-grade, heavily runed.

  But the true threat was that greatsword. Just as tall as he was, and just as broad too; its surface was slicked with that unholy light.

  The healer rose behind—a priestess with skin like stone, dressed in tattered holy robes. And beside her, two archers—one with a cloak billowing with the stuff of space, the other with a cloak like a storm cloud, crackling lightning. They carried gorgeous bows, one silver, one gold. Their arrows blazed with their elements.

  A mage with a gnarled wooden staff topped with an onyx gemstone. A rogue whose features were lost in a shadowed cowl—all you could see were those pure-red eyes; his daggers hissed with dark.

  They struck as one.

  And this time—finally—Zane had to take a step back; he braced against the threat.

  First, the archers blasted him. His Chains rose to block, sending arrows skittering; explosions rattled down their length. Then blood erupted from his back as the Rogue lanced into him.

  “First blood goes to the Monsters!”said Jake. “But look at that Rogue’s face—it’s like he can’t believe how hard Zane’s back is! Those cuts barely cut an inch into him… but they’re sure running wide. He’ll be bleeding bad.”

  Zane whirled around, Flare erupting at his fists, but the Rogue threw up a sphere of shadow.

  The shadows blocked the bulk of the strike, even as they burned—but some of Zane’s powers still broke through.

  “The Rogue’s wincing there. He doesn't like that Radiation!” said Jake.

  Still—it was enough for the Rogue to blur away. In a blink, he was gone.

  Then another flurry of arrows struck Zane clean, and he hissed.

  The first was the lightning arrow; it barely broke skin. But it was laden heavy with Tier-6 Lightning—enough to deaden chunks of his back, enough to halt him for just a split second.

  Then Void arrows lanced for his vitals. One for his throat. Two for his heart.

  Zane snatched an arrow a foot from his throat.

  As for the heart—he took them straight on. And they pinged straight off his chest. They drew blood—but that was all.

  “That’s the fabled Titan’s Body, right there,” said Jake. “We’ve heard rumors about what he’d been up to at the Conclave. They say he went all the way to the legendary Desolate Wilds to hone his physique—now we’re seeing just what that body can do!”

  “He can take a shot, alright,” said Mox. They watched as the knight leaped, slamming that greatsword down—it seemed for a second a block of hardened sunlight.

  Zane blocked with his Axe. The two men wrestled back and forth, stumbling wildly, crashing into wall after wall; stones shuddered, dropping all over the crypt.

  “It’s just too cramped for him,” said Mox. “His Chains need space to work, to get going. He’s got no space to get out of the way either. They just keep hammering him.”

  “When it comes to raw strength, though, he’s still winning out!” said Jake. “Just look what he’s doing to that knight!”

  Those red eyes were widening under the helm. Zane forced the giant undead swordsman to his knees, even as the healer tried desperately to buff him.

  Even as that pale flesh swelled with new power, though, Zane’s own body ran hotter in answer.

  Raw power was winning out.

  But even as the knight distracted him, the rest of the party took their pound of flesh.

  Arrows spiked all over his broad back. Daggers slashed for his neck, again and again. Blasts of raw mana caught him upside the head.

  “He can’t just keep eating these!” said Mox. “Come on, kid—get the hell out of there!”

  By now, blood was pouring out of him in great sheets.

  A distant screen flickered to Reina, who was gripping the handrests so hard her knuckles went white. She bit her lip—but her eyes were full of hope.

  She seemed to see something about him no one else did.

  “He must have a plan,” said Jake. “He’s got to… right?”

  ***

  Another burst of pain lashed Zane’s back.

  He bit down and took it. After all that steel—after all those Titan-form Levels—he could take these just fine.

  His body, meanwhile, was responding.

  190% power…

  He crushed the knight into the ground, foot by foot.

  Then he set his jaw, put a burst of heavy Solar Flare through his fists, and knocked the blade aside.

  200%.

  Then the knight could only watch, defenseless, as his Axes came down. Two executioner’s blades dropped in a searing X—and the fallen Hero was laid to rest once more.

  Another lightning arrow caught him clean—right under the shoulder blade, and he felt his back spasm.

  Warning!

  Health under 75%

  Now that was taken care of…

  Zane grabbed his Chains.

  It was time for the other shoe to drop.

  ***

  “Hold on…” said Jake. “Those Chains… how’d they get all over the crypt?”

  It was dawning on the Monsters; they looked around and saw. Chains circled them, ran up the walls—tangling up the whole Crypt.

  It was dawning on Mox, too. “The kid was wrestling with the knight—crashing all over…”

  Zane grinned bloodily.

  Then, all at once, those dormant Chains exploded in Flare.

  And the Crypt was smothered in gold.

  ***

  Zane bore down, and pulled with all his might.

  Prometheus Noose!

  Then the crushing began.