Chương 94: Chapter 93

Hrundar the Heartless By the time we reached the vast platform that was home to Hrundar's fortress of ice, I was covered in so much blood that I could have passed for one of the demons on Floor Five of the Tower of Potential. It was probably for the best, what with the thick layer of gore going some way to hiding the hundreds of cuts, bruises and dents decorating my body. I turned back to study the path we'd battled our way up. It was... messy.

Hundreds of yeti corpses littered the mountainside, and the blood splattered across the thick layer of ice covering the ground made the whole scene look like the world's most fucked-up painting. I'd probably killed more enemies in the last half hour than I had in any single week during my time in the Trial Zone. Even during my grind-a-thons in the Tower, I'd attempted to be somewhat selective and focus on 'high-value' targets. But this? This was just an absolutely insane bloodbath.

A no-holds-barred, kill-or-be-killed, fuck-everything-up kind of affair. Part of me was a little concerned that I wasn't horrified by what I'd just done. Did that make me some sort of psychopath or something? I didn't think so. After all, I still felt I had a pretty strong moral compass when it came to protecting innocents and stuff like that.

I was honestly starting to think that, when they'd teleported me to the Trial Zone and performed their arcane voodoo on my body, they'd done something to my psyche to stop me going completely insane from the absolute savagery of it all. But, at the end of the day, did it really matter? I'd just gained two stat points in half an hour... Which was exactly the sort of thing a psychopath would say. Shit.

I glanced down to see that the self-clean function on my trousers was hard at work, and the blood was rapidly disappearing before my very eyes. My skin, unfortunately, had no such function. Despite my best efforts, I'd yet to discover any sort of portable cleaning device that I could store in my inventory. However, I thought I might have another solution. It wasn't exactly conventional, but I was pretty sure it'd work just as well – and probably a lot faster – than the traditional approach.

"Rel," I said.

"Can you do me a favour?"

"That depends on what it is."

"I'm fed up of ending fights looking like… well," I gestured down at myself.

"Like this."

"That's understandable," he said, nodding knowingly.

"If I didn't know you so well, I might think you were some kind of pervert who gets a kick out of rolling around in other people's blood. I don't understand how I'm supposed to help you, though." I grinned.

"Well…" I said.

"You're an incredibly powerful archmagus who has a remarkable mastery of fire, right?" His chest puffed out a little.

"I suppose you could say that, yes."

"Then you'd surely have no problem burning all of this shit off me? You could flamethrower me like you did that pirate back on Floor Six. You know, the one who poured that bucket of dirty water over you, and it made your tail look like a furry grey noodl–" I never had the chance to finish my sentence. Instead, I was engulfed by a torrent of flame. Based on the uncomfortable stinging and the all-too-familiar scent of roasting flesh, I think he forgot the whole "mastery" part of my compliment.

As I turned slowly on the spot to make sure he cleaned all the gore off my back too, I couldn't help but feel like one of those spit-roasted pigs being turned over a fire. He let the spell fade, and after shooting him a quick glare – which he answered with an innocent shrug – I studied my chest to see how well my idea had worked. I was a genius. Every speck of blood and trace of yeti internal organs had been burned away.

Sure, my skin was a little crispy in places, and trails of smoke drifted from my body, but there was no doubting the fact I was clean. All I had to do was convince Rel to rein it in a little bit, and I was onto a winner. Maybe the next time I asked, I wouldn't start by bringing up what was clearly a traumatising memory for him.

"You're welcome," he said, making no attempt to hide the smug satisfaction in his voice. I studied him thoughtfully for a few moments, then smiled. Avatar's Judgment appeared in my hand, and I swung it experimentally through the air a few times.

"Would you like me to return the favour?" I asked. Surprisingly, he did not. Now that I was clean, I realised just how much of a state I was in after the battle. My chest was covered in now-cauterised cuts and gashes. Some were incredibly superficial, while others would've needed stitches if I'd been back on Earth. Not only that, but more of my skin was bruised than not. It was quite the collection of colours. Stolen novel; please report. I sighed and turned my attention back to Rel.

He was currently in the process of a little gentle self-exfoliation with fire. A fireball crackled merrily at the end of one paw, and he was rubbing it over his fur like some sort of elemental washcloth. Wherever the fireball touched, the blood matting his fur turned to ash and drifted away.

"Pete," he said.

"You really are full of good ideas lately." He let the fireball fade away, then spent a few moments assessing his work. He grunted in satisfaction, twisting to check that his tail was looking adequately voluminous. Then he turned to look at me, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the state of my body.

"Honestly…" he said, as a golden orb began to form on his paw, "Where would you be without me?" Well, for starters, I'd probably be a lot less singed. * Rejuvenating Touch made quick work of my injuries, and I withdrew my shirt from my inventory. As I was pulling it over my head, Rel gave my trousers a sharp tug.

"Pete, we have company." Two figures emerged from the fortress. The first was an absolute beast, even by yeti standards. He was around ten feet tall and built like a miniature mountain. Even beneath the thick coat of white fur covering his arms, it was obvious he was jacked out of his god damn mind. If I'd come across the yeti a few months earlier, I might've been pissed that there was yet another enemy who made me look like a puny bitch. Now? I wasn't particularly bothered.

It had become very clear that physique meant fuck all in Galaxy Showdown. We'd fought plenty of enemies who looked like absolute monsters, only to find they were absolute pussies. Take the Troll King, for example. The guy's biceps were as thick as my torso, but if I went back and fought him now, I could turn his head to jelly with a flick. On top of that, I was becoming something of a beast myself.

When I'd first arrived in the Trial Zone, I had the sort of body sculpted through years of eating shit food, drinking too much soda, and living an incredibly sedentary lifestyle. I never really ate enough calories to be properly overweight, but I was also completely lacking in any sort of muscle tone or definition. If you'd Googled the term 'skinny fat', I'd have fit right in among the image results. However, after six months in the Trial, I could now look at my shirtless reflection without sighing.

I wasn't exactly Troll King jacked, but I was a pretty big bastard. My physique probably had more in common with a powerlifter's than a bodybuilder's, but either way, I was filling out my peasant garb nicely. I wasn't exactly sure why. I supposed it was possible that increases in strength caused small changes to a Trialist's physique, but that seemed unlikely. Rel's strength wasn't anywhere near as high as mine, but it wasn't exactly low either, so if that were true, he'd be showing at least some signs of growth.

Instead, he still looked exactly the same… aside from his fur, which had become noticeably more lustrous following his creation of Rel'ly Good Shampoo. Maybe it was because I'd chosen the path of a sort-of warrior, whereas Rel had gone down the magic route. You don't exactly see many ripped wizards. But anyway, I digress. The one yeti was a huge bastard. Perched atop his furry head was a silver crown with blue gems set into the metal.

Like the soldiers we'd fought on the path, he wore leather armour, but his was of a much higher quality. It was a deep brown and looked as though it'd been well cared for, and the white fist on the chest looked like it'd been painted by somebody who actually knew what they were doing, rather than a child trying finger-painting for the first time. It was probably safe to assume that he was Hrundar the Heartless. The yeti beside him was much shorter, and her physique far less imposing.

She wore long black robes, the hem trailing through the snow behind her. Clasped in one hand was an impressive staff forged from a dark metal. At its tip, it curved into a crescent, inside which floated an icy blue gemstone. When he caught sight of us, Hrundar's face flashed with confusion. The expression lasted only a heartbeat before giving way to disbelief, anger, and finally, an anguished cry.

He charged towards us, and I raised my fists, figuring he was skipping the whole evil villain monologue shtick and getting straight to the action. Instead, he passed us without so much as a glance in our direction, only stopping when he reached a spot with a clear view of the mountain paths below. He sagged to his knees, then leaned forward, pressing his face into the ice and pounding his fists against the ground.

"My soldiers!" he roared.

"My glorious future!" He rose to his feet, whirled to face us, and stormed over. His eyes glinted with equal parts fury and madness. Jabbing an enormous finger into my chest hard enough to knock me back a step, he snarled, spittle flying, "What have you done?" I stared at him blankly. Was it a rhetorical question? It was pretty obvious what I'd done. Mistaking my confusion for fear, he began an impassioned rant.

"I accomplished something many believed to be impossible: I brought the warring yeti tribes under the rule of a single leader. For the first time in our recorded history, we were unified! I had grand plans that would've heralded a golden age for our kind." Without taking his eyes off me, he flung an arm wildly towards the path.

"You've ruined everything! You... you... monster! The hundreds of yetis you murdered in cold blood had hopes and dreams. They had families and–" I raised a hand to cut him off. I was the monster? Was this fucking guy serious?

"This 'golden age' of yours," I said.

"What was it going to involve?"

"We would have expanded outwards, conquering kingdom after kingdom until every living thing in this land had been subjugated and brought under our rule. Those who opposed us would have known only death. Those who could serve us would have known only slavery. We would have ushered in an age of enlightenment." I'm not going to lie – after the whole 'they had families' thing, I felt a flicker of uncertainty and guilt. What if the quest description had been lying to us about how evil the yetis really were?

What if I'd just murdered hundreds of innocent creatures... okay, maybe not innocent, but at least not entirely irredeemable pieces of shit? Thankfully, the whole 'would have known only death' and 'would have known only slavery' thing alleviated the guilt somewhat. Hrundar was just another one of the Trial Zone's classic this guy's clearly a piece of shit bad guys.

"Do not despair, my king," said the yeti with the staff, her voice flat and empty.

"This is not the end; it is merely a setback. With a little time, we can replenish our numbers, we can train new soldiers." While Hrundar was very emotional, she seemed entirely indifferent to the fact that we'd murdered hundreds of her kind. She stared at us blankly, her large black eyes unblinking. You know those horror films where a child has been possessed by some evil entity, and they've got those creepy, dead-as-fuck eyes? She had exactly that look.

"In fact…" she continued.

"Despite the atrocities these two have committed, they may prove to be very useful." Her final statement seemed to pierce the shroud of misery surrounding Hrundar. He turned to face her questioningly before his eyes widened with dawning understanding and his lips curled into a savage grin.

"You think they would serve as suitable vessels for your… friends?" She nodded.

"Yes," said Hrundar slowly.

"You are right, Helgana. They will pay for what they have done with their lives… but not in the way they expect." For the first time since we'd seen her, Helgana showed some emotion. She smiled... but it was the most fucked-up smile I'd ever seen. Her mouth opened far wider than should've been possible, revealing knife-like teeth and gums as black as her eyes. She raised her staff, staring at us down its length, and a pinprick of writhing dark energy appeared a metre or so in front of her.

"She's using summoning magic," hissed Rel. Within moments, the pinprick had grown to the size of a dinner plate and was still rapidly expanding. Oh shit.