Chương 86: Chapter 40

Pete Carries Out an Experiment Rel sighed as he stared longingly at Pyroth's armour. It was pretty damn impressive… aside from the jagged hole my punch had carved into the chest plate.

"I'll be a laughingstock if people see my skeletal knights wearing armour in this condition," he grumbled.

"The next time we come back to this floor, I want you to remember one very important rule: hit them in the fucking face." It was a bit of a shame – the armour would have been perfect for Osian. His divine plate mail could've been passed down to one of the other skeletal knights, like an older brother handing over clothes he'd outgrown. But what can I say? I can't help it that I'm a badass with fists of fury. If Rel was going to have a banner made, maybe I'd put in a little request of my own.

You know those belts they give to boxers and wrestlers after they win a title? I could see it now… In the red corner, standing at an impressive height of seven feet tall and weighing in at something entirely unreasonable… Pyroth, the Avatar of Flaaaame!" And in the blue corner, representing Earth, the one, the only… the outrageously handsome man who makes peasant garb look so damn fashionable… Peter Brookes! The bell rings. Pyroth comes out hot – literally.

Hammer swinging, lava flying, full apocalyptic meltdown mode. Someone has clearly been on the receiving end of Rel's shit-talking! Pete takes an uppercut to the chin! He's airborne! He's inspecting the ceiling! Surely that's lights out? But wait – he's still conscious! Pyroth gives the champ no time to recover, bringing his hammer down in a blow that could topple a mountain! Pete catches it! I can't believe what we're witnessing here, folks! This could go down as the fight of the century!

Pete counters, his foot lashing out in a devastating kick to the gut. Pyroth is flying through the air! Pete closes the distance and… BOOM! AN ELBOW FROM THE TOP ROPE! That's all she wrote! The referee isn't even bothering with a count. He's just shaking his head and waving the cleaners over. They do not look happy. Your winner by elbow-induced decapitation… Peter Brookes – the Undisputed Heavyweight Champion of Floor Eight!

"You're doing that thing again, Pete," said Rel.

"Huh?" I replied, my thoughts snapping back to the present.

"What thing?"

"The thing where your eyes glaze over and you stare into the distance with a dumbass grin on your face. What were you thinking about this time?" I cleared my throat.

"Erm, nothing," I said.

"Shall we see what loot he dropped?" Cast Spell: Fiery Ribbons of the Avatar Summons coiling ribbons of living flame that circle the caster. The ribbons will intercept incoming projectiles and may be directed to shield allies. Contact with the flames burns away poisons and diseases, and can cauterise and mend injuries of the flesh. Duration and potency scale with the caster's intelligence.

"You'll like this one, buddy," I said, withdrawing the scroll from the inventory pouch. I passed it to Rel who let out a rather excited squeak as he snatched it from my hand. While he unrolled it and studied its content, I turned my attention to the other item Pyroth had dropped. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Avatar's Judgment The weapon once wielded by Pyroth, the Avatar of Flame Equipping the warhammer grants the following bonuses: + 5 strength + Resistance to fire + Grants the ability: Avatar's Breath Avatar's Breath Releases a concentrated blast of superheated air in a forward arc, dealing heavy fire damage and knocking enemies back. Power and range scale with user's strength. Power and range scale with the user's strength? It was a match made in heaven.

I withdrew the warhammer from my inventory and ran my eyes over the runes etched into its head. They glowed faintly, the red a stark contrast to the obsidian-like metal. To understand just how potent the strength scaling was, I felt a comparison was in order. I turned to Rel, who was staring intently at the contents of the scroll, muttering under his breath and occasionally nodding as if something had just clicked into place.

"Buddy," I said.

"What?" he replied, his eyes not leaving the scroll.

"What's your strength at these days?" The question piqued his interest, and he glanced up. His eyes widened when he spotted the warhammer.

"Eighteen. Why?"

"I have a very important experiment I need your help with," I said, handing him the weapon. I watched, still impressed, as it shrank before my eyes to become the perfect size for Rel's paw. Indagore was right – the Archmagus Zalandar guy really was a genius.

"Read the ability's description. I want to see how the difference in our strength levels affect the results." Rel turned to face the open chamber and swung the warhammer in a wide arc. A blistering gale of superheated air erupted from the weapon, tearing across the stone floor and scouring loose rock from its surface. Even standing behind him, I could feel the heat wash over me. Not bad. And that was with twenty-three strength... With the bonus from the weapon, I had fifty-one.

I took the warhammer back and stepped forward.

"I think it might be a good idea to take a few steps back and make sure you're directly behind me," I said, grinning as the words left my mouth.

"I've got a feeling the results are going to be… spectacular." I glanced at the path Rel's attempt had carved, noticing that the force and heat of the gale had stripped the top layer from the stone.

"Actually, on second thought, maybe you should go all the way back there," I said, gesturing to the wall at the opposite end of the chamber. Once Rel – and his scroll – were at what I hoped was a safe distance, I raised the warhammer and considered it for a moment. This was going to be epic. In fact, I felt like using the ability without roaring some corny-ass line at the same time would be entirely unacceptable. The question was: did I go for something super pretentious like"Prepare to be judged by the inferno!"

or something that would make my opponents think ' what the fuck is this guy on about?' moments before they were reduced to ash on the wind. Something like…

"MEGA HOT AIR ATTACK!" I swung the warhammer, every point of my strength empowering the blow, willing the ability to activate. And activate it did… Holy shit. It was like a bomb had detonated in the chamber. The force of the superheated air didn't just scour the top layer of stone from the floor. It tore enormous chunks free, but they didn't make it far. The heat was so intense that those caught directly in its path were vaporised, while those at the edges were turned to magma.

Even after the ability faded, the air in the path of the blast shimmered violently, the heat warping the air as if reality itself had started to melt. I withdrew my sunglasses from my inventory, slipped them on, rested the warhammer on my shoulder, and strolled back over to Rel.

"Not bad, eh?" I said. Rel stared at me for a few moments, his mouth hanging slightly open. His gaze drifted over what was left of the chamber, and he shook his head softly.

"When we leave this place," he said, "I'm going to examine the runes on that weapon. I have an idea…" I took one last look around the chamber as we entered the corridor that would lead us to the next one. I was glad that time would revert when we left the Tower and return the chamber to its original condition. If it didn't, I'd have hated to be the person responsible for repairing it. The place was well and truly fucked up. * The first steps into the next chamber were terrifying.

I say chamber, but that word wasn't even close to appropriate. Pyroth's room had been a chamber. This? This was something else entirely. One moment, we were standing on the familiar stone of the tunnel. The next, we were among the clouds. Big. Fluffy. Purple clouds. I didn't get much time to appreciate how bizarre that was, because I fully expected — at any second — to start plummeting towards the ground. Even with my considerable durability, I wasn't convinced it was a fall I could survive. But nothing happened.

Either I'd somehow learned how to fly, or some very strange shit was going on.

"Purple clouds. A glass platform floating in the sky," Rel muttered.

"The designers are fucking insane." I tore my eyes from the clouds and looked down. He was right. It was barely visible – the almost transparent glass tinted purple by the clouds beneath it – but it was definitely there. I took a tentative step forward and let out a very deep sigh of relief when I realised it seemed pretty sturdy.

"I didn't think they'd be able to dream up something more fucked up than the graveyard and zombies on Floor Three," I said, shaking my head, "but I think the crazy bastards have gone and done it."

"A human?" said a voice, the words laced with vicious humour.

"It has been some time since I've seen one of your kind. Tell me, am I still worshipped on Earth?" My thoughts of purple clouds and plunging tens of thousands of feet to my death must have really distracted me, because I hadn't even noticed the throne at the far end of the platform – or the next boss sprawled lazily across it. For some reason, he looked a little… familiar. Olive skin. Wild silver hair and beard. Piercing eyes of electric blue. A white toga. And his body?

The guy basically looked like a sculpture of a Greek god. A Greek god…? I studied him for a few moments, blinking rapidly.

"Zeus?"