by Aaron Oster
“I promise I’ll bring you back,” he said, running his hand over the smooth glassy surface. “But right now, I need to stop another Pinnacle King. I will not allow this to happen to anyone else. Never again.”
The spear on his back seemed to hum at that, and Morgan took it as a sign of acknowledgment.
Forcing himself to step back, Morgan teleported away without so much as giving her another glance. He didn’t do so out of callousness or disrespect, but rather, because he simply could not bring himself to look at her for a moment longer. In his mind, every second she remained a lifeless corpse was his fault. It meant that he wasn’t strong enough to bring her back. The guilt he felt every time he saw her was nearly crippling, and although some version of her had told him to let go in the Soul Well, he simply could not bring himself to do so.
The spear hummed on his back as he appeared above the Ruined City once more, looking down at the gathering monsters. They were nearly the same as he remembered them, though these were far larger and more ferocious than previous creatures he’d faced here.
“Well, I can see that the King is expecting me,” Morgan said, drawing the gleaming spear from his back. “Best not to keep them waiting!”
Violet light exploded along his body as he activated his shield and dove straight down into the middle of the pack of snarling monsters. The twisted wolves with snake tails jumped at him as he landed, and Morgan turned into a whirling machine of death and destruction.
The spear spun in his grasp, twirling, slashing and stabbing as the monsters swarmed him. He thrust forward, catching a wolf in the neck, then twisted, hurling its body at another with enough force to shatter both of their bones. The haft of the spear came around, shattering another’s skull, and as another lunged, so did he.
The wolves continued to attack, not at all deterred by his seeming inability to be hurt. If anything, their attacks grew more ferocious, but Morgan wasn’t going to be stopped. His foot lashed out, snapping a wolf’s spine, and when one of them latched onto one of his arms, he dropped the spear and punched it in the neck with enough force to separate its head from the rest of its body.
The spear flew back up into his waiting palm, and he crouched, spinning in a tight circle and ripping deep gouges into their legs and chests. The spear hummed endlessly in his grip, its consciousness seeming to grow more and more lucid as he fought. Singularly focused on the task at hand, Morgan hardly even noticed. All he saw was the next monster, the next abomination that needed to be put down.
It seemed, at least to him, that every beast in the city was coming for him at once, and Morgan was happy to give every one of them the same treatment.
Black blood soon coated the sands, soaking into his boots and flecking his face and armor. The wolves continued attacking, fighting with more and more viciousness as Morgan mowed them down. At a certain point, he was surrounded on all sides, wolves tearing at his arms, legs and armor, yet his shield held their teeth at bay, and Morgan fought on through. It was only once Morgan thrust his spear through the head of a wolf, then spun to face his next opponent, only to see nothing there, that he realized what he’d done.
He straightened, staring through the storm of whirling sand and looking out over a field of corpses. Hundreds of wolves lay dead, their remains scattered about and their blood turning the sand a dark black. He looked around for several moments, expecting to have to face another beast at any moment, yet when none showed up, he started to relax.
The spear, which didn’t have so much as a single fleck of blood, continued humming. Now that he could concentrate on something besides the horde of monsters, he noticed that the consciousness that he’d been sensing was strong and razor-sharp.
“Can you hear me?” he asked, reaching for the spear with his mind.
“…Yes…Where am I?”
The voice, though it was whispering, definitely carried a feminine quality to it and seemed oddly familiar. The cadence of its voice and the stilted way in which it spoke was throwing him off, making it impossible for him to pinpoint who it was.
“The Ruined City in the West Kingdom. We’re going to face a Pinnacle Beast,” Morgan replied, not sure what else to say.
For weeks now, he’d been trying to make contact, and other than a few fleeting words, he hadn’t had much luck.
“…What is a Pinnacle King? Is it a god?”
The spear’s voice was fading, the humming beginning to slow. Morgan, not wanting to miss his opportunity, quickly asked the question that had been burning within him ever since he’d gotten it.
“Do you have a name? Who are you?”
When the answer came, it was faint. So faint, in fact, that Morgan had to strain to hear it.
“A name? I…cannot remember…Silver mists are all around…Come find me…”
The voice trailed off, just as the spear stopped humming, leaving Morgan with even more questions than he’d had before.
Come find her? What was that even supposed to mean? She was right there, clutched in his hand!
A rumbling growl from beneath the ground snapped Morgan back to the present, and he turned, surveying his surroundings. There was nothing on the surface. Nothing he could see, anyway. Even with the sandstorm whirling about him, his Aura Sense told him that the only monsters that were left were underground.
Hands balling into fists, Morgan dismissed his frustration, remembering well why he was here. The sand around him exploded outward as he used Earthen Shift, digging a tunnel straight down. He dropped quickly, shifting sand, then dirt, and finally stone out of the way. Morgan fell more than fifty yards before he emerged into a massive underground cavern.
It was littered with items he did not recognize. There were all kinds of metallic instruments, tall tubes made of glass and long strings of metal bunched up in balls. This area was covered in sand as well, yet it was somehow lit from up above. When he looked up to the ceiling, he saw nothing, leaving him to wonder how this room was so bright. Down here, no sandstorm raged, but, oddly enough, the pillar of power that represented the Pinnacle King still came from below.
His brows furrowed as he looked around, wondering if this underground area where he had once been trapped wasn’t the only one in this world. How many layers were hidden beneath the surface, and what did they all contain?
Morgan felt the Beast within begin to stir as the power beneath him fluctuated. He could feel the Pinnacle King’s power growing, the red and blue light turning slowly to purple as it formed reiki in its core. If he had to go down to the very center of Somerset to face this beast, he would do so. All of the Pinnacle Kings had to die, and Morgan was going to make sure that he was the one to finish them off.
A hole opened in the sand once more, and he dove down, burrowing another hundred yards before entering another large chamber. Once more, he found that the Pinnacle King was further down still. It was only once he broke through the eighth such room that he finally found himself on the same level. However, as he smashed through the ceiling of what he hoped was the last chamber, he was greeted to quite the sight.
“What the hell?”
Morgan was so shocked by what he saw that he spoke out loud, staring at his surroundings in both confusion and surprise.
A massive city sprawled out below him. Ancient sandstone buildings that were unlike anything he’d ever seen were arranged in neat rows in a grid-like pattern. Cobbled streets, which were now covered in sand, ran throughout, separating the crumbling buildings and leaving ample room for people to walk.
What was most surprising about this place wasn’t the mostly intact city that spread as far as the eye could see in all directions. No, what was surprising was the fact that it was bright as day down here, and that the ceiling he’d just smashed through looked exactly like the sky above. Well, maybe not exactly. The sky carried an odd, greenish tint he’d never seen in the outside world, and the clouds seemed a little too perfect. Aside from those minor differences, it pretty damn close.
What i
n the hell kind of place is this? he wondered, flying toward the source of the Pinnacle King’s power. How had he missed the fact that there was an entire city down here? Were there other places like this scattered throughout Somerset? If there were, why were they here?
Morgan’s eyes flicked over to a small black spot in the distance, one that stood out amongst the uniform tan of the sandstone that made up the bulk of the ancient city. He used Gravity Warp, coming half a mile closer to the source in an instant. Once he did, he didn’t use it again, continuing to fly as he allowed his RP to regenerate itself. There was a reason he hadn’t used so much as a single skill when fighting the wolves. He was saving every drop he had for the fight with the Pinnacle King. Now that he was a bit closer, he could finally make out what had stood out so much.
There, standing at the very center of the city, was a tall tower made of black stone. It gleamed in the reflected artificial sunlight. From its very center, Morgan could feel the power. It was unmistakably the intense roiling power of a Pinnacle King.
42
Morgan blasted forward, his body rocketing through the air as he headed on a collision course with the stone tower. One might have thought he’d be a bit more cautious when going to face one of the most powerful beasts ever to walk this world, but his anger and hatred toward this monster and all of its kind drove him forward with an almost reckless abandon. The Beast King fought to be free, thrashing against its bonds and demanding to be let loose. He ignored it. Knowing what he was about to face gave Morgan an odd sense of inner strength.
He wanted to be in control and to be the one to deliver the finishing blow. For that, he would need to be in control. The massive wall of the black spire loomed before him, but Morgan didn’t slow down. He slammed into the tower – which turned out to be made entirely of black marble – shattering the stone as he entered in its very center. The power continued to rise from below as he entered, and he angled himself downward, blasting a hole through the sandstone floor with his bare hands.
A beast appeared as he drove into the next floor down, but Morgan didn’t pay it any heed, recklessly driving himself downward and ignoring any attempts at being slowed. He was only here for one beast, the one who’d already caused over two thousand deaths. Most of them had been innocent civilians. He could not – would not – allow a creature like this to gain any traction. The West Kingdom would not be devastated like the North had been. No matter how powerful this Pinnacle King was, he would not back down.
The floors continued to shatter under his punches as he slammed through barrier after barrier, the echoing booms of his passage shaking the tower down to its foundations. He noticed several beasts in his periphery as he passed, noting that he must have missed their weaker auras while looking at the Pinnacle King’s. Just as with the first, he paid them no heed. He had only one goal, and that was to get rid of the monster at the very bottom.
Only once he’d shattered the last floor, which was far below the surface of the actual city, did Morgan finally reach his target. He slowed to a halt, only just managing to avoid slamming into the sandy ground before impact. However, just being on the right level didn’t mean he’d automatically found his quarry.
He ground his teeth in annoyance as he was greeted by long tunnel walls, stretching to either side. This far down, it was almost impossible to tell which way the Pinnacle King was, as its power permeated the very air. His Aura Sense wasn’t the only way Morgan could track, so he listened. Closing his eyes, Morgan focused on his sense of hearing above all else.
All living things made noise, and that, more than anything, was what he was listening for right now. At first, all he heard was the echoing and oppressive silence of the underground maze. Not too long after, he began to pick out other noises. He could hear the echoing roars of anger from the beasts in the upper floors, the ones he’d simply ignored on his way down here. The Beast King continued to struggle against its bonds the entire time, but even with that distraction, he soon began to pick out a very disturbing sound.
Chains. Rattling chains. Straining muscles, and low grunting. The low creaking of metal being pulled taut, and the whisper of something sinister.
Morgan’s eyes snapped open, locking onto the direction where the sound was coming from. His eyes narrowed, and his fists tightened. With his hearing as trained as it was, he imagined he could almost hear the sound of his muscles creaking. The sand beneath his feet was blown away as he launched himself forward. He didn’t bother trying to find his way through the tunnels, instead smashing through the walls as he had done before.
The aura in the air continued to grow thicker as he approached his final destination. He could feel the massive fluctuations of aura as the Pinnacle King fought against its restraints. He knew that if they were still tied down, winning would be no trouble at all, and Morgan was not beyond killing the beast while it was still tied up. If growing up on the streets had taught him anything, it was that a fair fight was for those who were stupid, naïve or a mixture both.
The last wall shattered under the power of his fist, opening into a massive cavern that looked familiar, yet also completely different. The ceiling sloped upward, towering to over sixty feet in height with stalactites hanging down. The ground was parched, covered in the loose sand that shifted beneath his feet. The long stone spikes had long since stopped growing, as not a drop of moisture clung in the air.
Two figures occupied the room. One was a man dressed in a West Kingdom uniform, his body bulging with muscle. His skin was covered in a mixture of scales and leathery skin. The other figure was the Pinnacle King, still chained to a stone slab on the far side of the room. It was clear from the myriad of chains littering the area that it had already broken through a fair few of them, and if he didn’t move fast, they would snap the rest.
“So…You have come to kill me. Father.”
The sibilant voice that sounded in his mind was undoubtedly female, making Morgan wonder why they were all called ‘Kings.’ It honestly didn’t matter either way, as he was here to rid the world of this monster.
“Obviously,” Morgan said, then rocketed forward, making for the stone slab.
“Stop him!” said the beast.
The minion moved to follow the command. Drawing a massive mace from its back, the creature charged him. Under normal circumstances, Morgan might have taken care when approaching such a dangerous foe. However, his blind hatred toward the creature that had nearly freed herself from her prison made him throw caution to the wind.
He teleported forward, appearing behind the charging monster. He quickly whirled, summoning a Stormforged blade, and neatly lopped the head from the monster’s shoulders. The blade sank into its flesh as easily as a normal person might have cut through a soft block of cheese, though the spray of blood that followed was nothing like that. At all.
Morgan turned as the corpse fell to the ground in two separate pieces, the buzzing violet blade morphing over his arm and forming into a gauntlet. He began to approach the sandstone slab, feeling his rage growing as he beheld the lithe form of the humanoid lioness chained there.
“I do not understand why you have come to kill me, Father,” the lioness said, turning her glowing violet eyes on him.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” Morgan replied. “But you’re just a beast. A monster created for the purpose of destruction.”
“Yes. That is exactly who I am. I cannot change that. It is in my nature, after all. But you are the one I do not understand. Why do you seek to kill your own flesh and blood? Siding with the humans does not seem like something the King of Beasts should be doing.”
“I’m not a beast. I am human,” Morgan said, coming to a halt right before the slab.
“And yet the look in your eyes tell a different story,” the Pinnacle King replied, her black-lined lips turning up in a half-smile.
A pair of large canines flashed as she did so, revealing the beast’s true nature.
“I can feel it, even now. The beast withi
n you is more powerful than ever. You deny your nature as one of us, yet we are all your children. All of us were only born thanks to you…”
“Because of that, it’s my job to make sure you all die as well.”
Morgan didn’t raise his voice, though the look of hatred in his eyes was almost enough to kill on its own.
“Why do you hate your own flesh and blood so?” she asked. “You must have had a run-in with Octagon, but seeing as you’re still alive and that he is so far away that I can barely feel him, you were the clear victor.”
“Your kind has taken more from me than you will ever know,” Morgan replied, feeling his careful control begin to slip.
He was close to snapping, and he knew it, but the pure rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins made it hard to even think, let alone stay in control of himself.
“My kind? Don’t you mean our kind? You are my father. Without you, none of us would even exist.”
The lioness’s smile was wide as Morgan drove his fist down, the last of his patience worn out. The beast was still bolted to the stone. She had nowhere to run and was all but defenseless. In one blow, he could end the entire battle before it began. At the same time, he’d be able to unleash some of the hatred and guilt he carried over Sarah’s death by killing another one of the Pinnacle Kings.
Last time, he hadn’t been strong enough to truly finish the job. This time, he wasn’t going to let the beast live.
A massive echoing boom shook the cavern as Morgan’s fist impacted. It didn’t make contact with the lioness’s face, instead hitting the massive chain she’d pulled into its path while simultaneously contorting her body to avoid the blow. The chain shattered under the force of his punch, as did half the sandstone block, which should have been impossible. A slab of stone that was strong enough to hold a Pinnacle King at bay should not have been broken so easily.
Seeing that he’d been goaded into action, Morgan followed his attack, not allowing his surprise to slow him for even an instant. His fist flashed out, but the cat contorted once more, her fangs gleaming with her smug smile as she avoided the second blow. The anchor of a second chain shattered as his fist connected, sending chips of stone and dust flying in the air. His punch didn’t completely miss, and he felt the solid impact of flesh on fur.