The All Consuming-Self

Chapter 7: A Power-Up

The Orc King’s massive, bloodstained axe descended with the terrifying speed of a falling guillotine, a colossal shadow eclipsing the sickly blue light of the cavern. Zander, his eyes wide with a pure, animalistic terror, flinched violently, his muscles tensing, bracing for the inevitable, for the split second of agonizing pain before oblivion.

But in his desperate, unthinking panic, his foot caught on another loose, unforgiving stone. He felt the sickening lurch as he lost his balance, sending him sprawling backward in a clumsy, undignified tumble. The colossal blade whistled inches, mere inches, above his head, the sudden rush of displaced air from its passage ruffling his pathetic excuse for hair, carrying the faint metallic scent of blood and pulverized stone.

He landed hard on his butt, the impact jarring his spine and sending a fresh wave of pain through his already battered body. A strangled, unmanly yelp escaped his lips. It was a near-miss so absurd, so undeserved, so utterly dependent on dumb luck, it felt like the universe itself was actively delaying his demise, prolonging his agony for its own twisted amusement.

On the other side of the chaotic, smoke-choked chamber, amidst the lingering haze of the grenade blast and the groaning, twitching forms of lesser monsters, Kael lay broken but stubbornly, impossibly alive. The concussive force had ripped through his left side, leaving a horrifying, gaping expanse of raw muscle and exposed bone, glistening wetly in the dim light.

His left eye, dislodged by the blast, dangled grotesquely from his cheek, connected only by a thin, sinewy thread, swaying sickeningly with each ragged breath. Agony screamed through every nerve ending, a white-hot inferno that threatened to consume him. Yet, through the blinding pain, the sheer, incandescent rage at Zander’s betrayal, the desperate, unyielding clinging to a life he’d almost lost, fueled a primal, roaring surge within him.

A crackling, furious aura of pure, chaotic lightning erupted around his mangled form, not as mere sparks, but as a miniature, swirling storm, a chaotic shield of raw energy that singed the air. He roared, a sound torn from the depths of his ravaged being, a primal scream of anguish, of vengeance, of absolute fury.

“CAPTAINN!! YOU FUCKER! YOU’LL DIE IN MY HANDS TODAY!” His voice, though ragged, vibrated with a terrifying, newfound power.

Suddenly, a resonant, ethereal chime echoed not just in the cavern, but deep within Kael’s very mind, a celestial bell tolling defiance:

[Ding! Talent Evolution!]

An overwhelming surge of unimaginable power coursed through his veins, electrifying every fiber of his being, completely eclipsing the agonizing, physical pain. His latent talent, the mere Rank A Lightning Manipulation, had shattered its former limitations, exploding past its boundaries, evolving into something far, far greater, something truly divine.

[New Talent Acquired: Rank S - Lightning Manifestation.]

[Description: The user gains unparalleled control over lightning, capable of shaping and directing it with thought. Additionally, for a maximum duration of 5 minutes, the user can manifest the power of the mythological God of Lightning, Zeus, granting a tenfold increase to all physical attributes (Strength, Speed, Endurance) and amplifying lightning-based abilities exponentially. WARNING: Forcible activation before the body fully adapts to the evolved talent will result in severe life essence drain. Continuous use beyond the time limit will lead to irreversible physical degradation and potential death.]

A blinding corona of pure, crackling white energy enveloped Kael, turning his mangled form into a beacon of furious power. His single remaining eye glowed with an electric intensity that seemed to burn straight through the gloom. His physical body, despite its grievous injuries, seemed to crackle and sizzle with raw power, steam rising from his skin. His speed, already impressive, increased tenfold in an instant, a blur of motion that momentarily rivaled even the Orc King’s brutal swiftness. The cost, however, was already being levied – a chilling coldness spreading through his core, a profound, unsettling sense of his very life force, his essence, being consumed, burning away with every millisecond of this borrowed godhood.

[Active Skill: Thunder's Wrath is activated. For 5 minutes it grants the user a tenfold increase to all physical attributes (Strength, Speed, Endurance) and amplifying lightning-based abilities exponentially. WARNING: Forcible activation before the body fully adapts to the evolved talent will result in severe life essence drain. Continuous use beyond the time limit will lead to irreversible physical degradation and potential death.]

With a speed Zander couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Kael launched himself, not at the Orc King, but directly towards Zander, a vengeful lightning bolt incarnate, his rage a physical force. But the Orc King, its predatory instincts overriding its amusement, let out a booming roar of possessive fury.

This puny human, this suddenly powerful prey, was its. With a guttural snarl that shook the very foundations of the cavern, it intercepted Kael, its massive axe swinging in a wide, deadly arc, a whirlwind of steel and blood aimed to cleave the upstart in two.

The chamber instantly became a maelstrom of raw, untamed power. Kael, now a dizzying blur of electrified motion, a human lightning bolt, met the Orc King’s brutal assault head-on. Crackling tendrils of pure lightning lashed out from his body, slamming against the Orc’s crude iron armor with explosive force, sending shards of battered metal scattering across the cavern floor like deadly shrapnel. The Orc King roared, a sound of frustrated rage and pain, its axe a terrifying whirlwind of steel and blood, each swing capable of cleaving Kael in two, of turning him into paste. But Kael, empowered by the manifested might of a god, moved with impossible speed, dodging blows that should have been fatal, leaving shimmering trails of ozone and residual sparks in his wake.

They clashed again and again, a deafening symphony of thunderous impacts and earth-shattering blows. Kael’s fists, crackling with enough raw voltage to vaporize lesser creatures instantly, slammed into the Orc King’s scarred, green hide, leaving smoking, sizzling craters on its tough flesh. The Orc King’s counter-attacks, infused with its monstrous strength, shook the very foundations of the chamber, its massive axe tearing through the air where Kael had just been, missing by fractions of an inch.

The air itself crackled and popped with the sheer, unbearable intensity of their conflict, a miniature storm contained within the dungeon. The lesser monsters, goblins and kobolds alike, caught in the terrifying crossfire, were either vaporized instantly by stray bolts of Kael’s lightning, leaving only smoking scorch marks, or crushed into red paste under the Orc King’s immense, stomping bulk.

Zander, meanwhile, watched the insane spectacle unfold, a twisted, almost manic smirk playing on his lips. Look at these two dumbasses, he thought, his mind surprisingly clear despite the fear, going at it like it’s some heroic last stand, some grand, noble sacrifice. While they were busy playing hero, locked in their destructive dance, he was making his grand, ignoble escape. He scurried sideways, a pathetic, desperate crab-scuttle, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the raging, world-shaking battle, the sounds of thunderous blows and enraged roars echoing, almost fading, in his ears. Every step was agony, but he forced his battered body to move, propelled by a singular, all-consuming instinct: survival.

Despite his incredible, god-like power-up, Kael was fighting a desperate battle of attrition. The Orc King’s sheer resilience was immense, its monstrous vitality seeming to shrug off Kael’s devastating attacks. Every blow Kael landed, while powerful enough to fell mountains, seemed to only enrage the beast further, drawing more guttural roars and fiercer counter-attacks. And with every passing second, the invisible flow of his life essence was accelerating, draining from him like sand through an hourglass, a chilling, constant reminder of the limited time he had left before his body simply gave out. Two minutes bled away in a furious exchange of blows, each second bringing him closer to utter exhaustion, to the inevitable collapse.

Spotting Zander’s cowardly, scurrying retreat from the periphery of his vision, Kael’s fury intensified, turning his focus away from the monster for a fraction of a second. “CAPTAINN! YOU COWARDLY PIECE OF SHIT!” he roared, a guttural sound of pure, concentrated hatred. In that moment of distraction, a searing bolt of lightning, meant for the Orc King, veered wildly, slamming uselessly into the cavern wall with an explosive crack.

In that split second of Kael’s fatal distraction, the Orc King, a veteran predator, saw its opening. With a bellow of triumphant, vengeful rage, its massive axe, coated in blood, hurtled towards Kael. Panic flared, cold and sharp, in Kael’s single remaining eye. He tried to react, to unleash another burst of lightning, to move with his impossible speed, but his body was beginning to lag, the divine power straining his mortal frame beyond its limits, seizing up. The axe slammed into him with bone-shattering, sickening force, the impact throwing him across the chamber like a rag doll. He crashed against the rough stone wall, a strangled, wet cry escaping his lips, blood gushing from new, horrifying wounds, staining the blue-lit rock.

Yet, even as his life, his very essence, visibly ebbed away, Kael refused to yield, his rage overriding even death. With a guttural groan that seemed to tear from his dying soul, he gathered the last vestiges of his manifested lightning, condensing it, not into chaotic bolts, but into a crackling spear of pure, focused energy held aloft in his trembling, bloodied hand. With a final, desperate surge of will, a last, furious act of defiance, he hurled the spear with all his remaining strength directly at the Orc King’s monstrous, snarling face.

The impact was cataclysmic, a sound that dwarfed all previous roars and explosions, shaking the very cavern itself. The spear of lightning slammed into the Orc King’s face, tearing away chunks of flesh and bone, leaving a smoking, charred crater where its left eye had been. The Orc King staggered back, a hideous, pain-filled bellow tearing from its ruined maw, a sound of agony and outraged pride. Its right arm, already weakened by Kael's previous blows, hung uselessly, shattered and limp by the force of the blast. Barely alive, it swayed precariously, its immense form reeling.

Horror, stark and cold, washed over Kael as the blinding corona of his Lightning Manifestation flickered violently, pulsed erratically, and then, with a final, dying sizzle, extinguished itself completely. The surge of power vanished, leaving him broken, bleeding, and agonizingly weak, his borrowed godhood dissolving into nothing. He cursed inwardly, a guttural, despairing sound. His fate was sealed.

The Orc King, fueled now by a primal rage at being so grievously wounded, its pride utterly shattered by a mere insect, gathered its remaining strength. With a final, guttural roar of vengeance, it lumbered towards Kael, its massive, bloodied foot descending. It stomped down, crushing Kael’s already ravaged body. Again and again, with sadistic, methodical blows, the Orc King stomped, reducing Kael’s form to a pulped, unrecognizable mess, a bloody stain on the dungeon floor. His desperate quest for revenge, his brief, incredible power-up, ended in a brutal, meaningless annihilation.

Zander, witnessing the final, gruesome moments from his cowardly distance, felt a cold dread grip his heart despite his successful escape. The sheer, unadulterated power Kael had briefly wielded, the Orc King’s terrifying, unwavering resilience in the face of such a god-like assault… it painted a grim, chilling picture of the true horrors that lurked deeper within this dungeon, within this world. Yet, the instinct for self-preservation, raw and unflinching, clawed at him, overriding all other thoughts, all traces of guilt. He had to get out. He had to run, faster and further than ever before, even if his weak, pathetic body screamed in protest, every fiber burning. The horrific image of Kael’s crushed remains fueled his desperate flight, a stark, visceral reminder of the agonizing fate that awaited him if he failed, if he paused, if he dared to look back.