238. The Third Concept (III)

Stormfire poured down Zane's chains.

It was a color that did not exist in nature. A purple so vibrant it arrested the eye, flickering, dancing, ghostly, shockingly bright. The sort of color you might see only in the most intense lightning storms—and only for an instant. Blazing at the moment of the strike before vanishing, leaving only a burning image in the mind…

Except here that color was held solid. Flaring in Zane's flame. As beautiful as it was savage.

It crackled and roared as it spun, raging as only fire could—and the sound crushed out the drones of the bug-demons, the growls of the wolf-demons—dominating soundscape, just as the flame lit up the landscape…

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖 [𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕔 (𝔼) — 𝕀𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟] -> 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖 [𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔+ (𝔼) — 𝕄𝕚𝕕 𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟]

And that new Stormfire burned down the tips of Zane's axes too, slicking them white-purple—

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝔼𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖 ℂ𝕪𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 [ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 (𝔼) -> 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔+ (𝔼) 𝕀𝕀]

Zane narrowed his eyes. Clenched his fists.

And his Axes began to spin.

One.

***

ɪɴɴᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ

ᴀᴢᴜʀᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍ

The surface of Sage Burnwater's home planet was an endless plain of hot coals. Massive steaming lakes were interspersed throughout, making saunas hundreds of miles long. Fat white whales drifted lazily, venting steam which bubbled to the surface in island-sized blobs.

The Sage Burnwater himself sat in a cottage lifted a few dozen feet above a lake. Watching a scrying glass in rapt attention.

"Heavens…" croaked the Sage. "He actually managed it."

Burnwater knew exactly what it meant. He'd taken well over a decade to comprehend that Concept, and achieve Mid-Fusion. And he was one of the greatest talents to grace the Stormfire legacy this Chaos Cycle. Most Nascent Cultivators never came close to achieving it—and Zane Walker was still at Core…

"In one night, too?"

Even with the Plasma Sunflower, Burnwater was struggling to think of any who could've done it that fast. The only two he could think of were possibly Sage Noughtfire—and the Founding Ancestor himself…

"Are you seeing this, Master?!" he choked.

There was silence on the other end.

Then—

"That is… indeed remarkable," said Sage Noughtfire. There was a faraway quality to his tone. Almost as remarkable as the sight before him—the old Sage had actually praised someone.

His surprise surprised Burnwater—"You were the one who suggested we send him the Sunflower, were you not?"

Burnwater had been hesitant. He had seen where Zane was going. The vast likelihood was the man would be long dead before he grasped Extreme Intensity. It would be a waste of one of Noughtfire's best foundational treasures.

But the ancient Sage had insisted.

Noughtfire said he had seen something in Zane. He didn't elaborate on what. You always get an impression speaking to him that he had a hundred thoughts on his mind, but he'd only tell you one.

Another silence from the old Sage. Then—"I did suggest it," admitted Noughtfire. "I… had not thought he would actually manage it."

They both just kept staring at the sight.

"…So," said Burnwater faintly as Axes began to spin. "This… Zane Walker. I had thought… somehow, I had thought the scouts were exaggerating, at the Auction… We may have to re-evaluate our assessment."

"Yes."

"This… this man is no generational talent."

"No."

"Once in a millennium? …Ten?"

Noughtfire stayed silent.

Then—

"If it were merely the talent of his soul," said Noughtfire slowly. "Perhaps. But from what we have seen of his will…that is the more impressive of his aptitudes. Put them together, and I'm not certain I've seen anyone like him."

Then it was Burnwater's turn to be silent.

At last—

"Nine Hells!" cursed Burnwater.

***

Zane's new Stormfire had a will of its own. Just like his old one—only it had gotten a lot fiercer. A lot more intense.

It wanted to bolt free to loose itself upon the world, to express its immense might in a wild reckless rush. Once it had been set in motion, it could only be tamed if you had the strength of body and will to match it.

Zane gritted his teeth. Started burning his bloodline instantly—and his Godbeast avatar flared above him.

He began exerting himself in full force. Imposing his soul, and his body. All at once…

Two.

It was a critical moment. And at the same time the first enemy shots came flying in—a flood of corruption energy, stinger-bolts and spells and harpoon-arrows streaming poison-shadows—all gunning for his head. Trying to throw him before he got started.

But shields bloomed over him. Reinforcing each other. Vibrant green swathes from Reina, covering him tight on one side. And mirrors on the other from Avery. They cried out hard at work deflecting blocking—holding even as dozens of Core Skills splashed all over them…

But they held.

He would trust his friends to get it done. Just as they trusted him.

So he focused on getting going.

Three.

And now the sketch of the full Cyclone was coming into view. Stormfire whipping into a fierce scything wind, catching vigorously, colors and sounds found only in the hearts of stars brought low to Earth, so hot the ground began to bubble…

The demons had just a moment's hesitation.

The wolf pack was first up. A seething oil-black tide racing straight for Zane—they stopped once they saw the fire. Once they felt the enormity of the heat they faced down.

Yet these were demons. They didn't think like normal creatures. Their fear was muted, their bloodlust amplified. Even then the sheer power rolling off Zane—power they could feel searing at their souls, watering their cracked eyes even from this distance, gave them pause…

Then the Monster Knight roared.

That massive Blight Wolf snarled a challenge. Urged its brethren on, imposing its feverish will on them.

And they threw themselves forward, mindless, growling, slobbering pools of acid tar. Heedless. Lost to the frenzy… their sole overriding want. To tear Zane limb from limb.

But they had to make it through Zane's power first.

Four.

The air down here was well used to weathering firestorms. But even it started to catch. Started being drawn the howling bulk … Zane bellowed.

The rest of the battle raged around him. To the left hail of Corruption descended—the undead army trying to distract him. Avery bounced those off. A few speedy insects tried dive-bombing him—Evan sniped those out of the sky.

Zane only had eyes for the impending collision.

The demon wolves had arrived. A noxious tide of flesh and spittle and so much corruption ooze—

But even as they came Stormfires' purple light washed out their colors. He saw slaver evaporating from their lips, the water evaporating from their eyes—their skin glow hot in the heat, start to catch flame—they howled. Stumbled in.

The big Blight Wolf's intention was for his horde to crash into Zane's burgeoning Cyclone. To stop him cold. To make a logjam. Then the massive beast could leap over, and sink its teeth into him.

Instead…

It was as though each of those beasts had been lathered in crude oil. They hit Zane's wall of Stormfire.

And exploded. Without warning. In unreasonably violent fashion.

It was not a gradual thing. Crank Stormfire to a certain intensity and it would catch on anything. Devour it whole, erupting every scrap it could find. And keep burning. Fiercer than ever.

From Zane's perspective, those demons were undergoing a strange alchemy. He saw them hit the outer edge of his Cyclone. Their bodies touched the flames—and became them. He saw shapes rising, briefly howling—cut off abruptly. And then dissolving. Going to nothing in the space of a heartbeat.

His Cyclone raged ever-brighter…

Five revolutions.

Things were starting to get out of hand.

The big Blight Wolf, the Monster Knight, was entering the fray with a fury.

Its Nascent Soul was brimming with essence. Deep-set Skills packed its pelt. And its Bloodline ran at full blast; you could see a phantom wolf-pack hovering all around it, the shadows of its ancestors running alongside… it let out a howl that shivered the air. That carved out its own pocket of dark aura amidst Zane's overwhelming tide.

Some Skill activated. And its body became a streaking black comet rushing and snarling, fangs hung wide open, shining with deadly intent—

Zane's Axe caught it right down the side.

SCHLUNK!

To the beast's credit, it made Zane's Cyclone hitch. Made it stutter.

Unfortunately for the wolf, it was only for a half-second.

Then its upper half and its lower half cleanly separated.

Black blood geysered out both ends. Its hindlegs floated away, burning up, lost in the mess—but its upper half was still going. Dragging itself forward, mindless, red eyes wild, pure animal demented fury…

It howled madly as it came. Evan and Avery rushed to intercept it—but they didn't need to.

Zane's Stormfire had never left it. They'd caught as soon as the Axe struck. And raced up its body. Arching for its throat, like some great flame-python, swallowing the Monster Knight in one big gulp…

Zane stared the beast dead in its eyes. Unflinching. Even as its jaw unhinged, threatening to clamp right over his head.

It fell for the last time mere steps from Zane's face. Slumping.

It was smoke before it hit the ground.

Six.

***

Extreme Intensity was obscene.

The Concept magnified Zane's power so much it was almost unreasonable. This building Cyclone was too much to sustain for him alone. He could maybe go seven or eight revolutions before he burned out.

Even where he was now his teeth were clenched hard, every drop of Bloodline burning, every inch of him straining to his maximum, straining furiously just to keep things steady—

Only right now, he didn't need to give all the fuel himself.

Those demons had given their corpses. That Nascent wolf its flesh—and his Cyclone ate it all up hungrily. And roared its approval as it thundered to new heights. Zane bellowed with it.

If they came at him they'd better kill him. Or they were only more fuel. They would only make him stronger...

His Asura State was burning to its peak. His Bloodline. His essence. His arms stretched taut, flexing with all their strength, linking in one great kinetic chain, down his taut back, his stomping legs as he heaved full-body, brought his Chains around for one more revolution—

Seven.

The air began to crack, began to bend. The ground was making lakes. The lava-rivers themselves began catching Stormfire. Blazing purple, giving way to a higher flame…

Zane was peaking.

This could end only one way.

The other demon armies, the other Monster Knights, saw what happened to their brethren.

The Reaper and the giant zombie were reeling even as they charged. The hivemind was a cloud of shock to the other side.

One thing grew clear.

If they didn't stop him now... it was all over.

In a blink—an army of demons had vanished. Consumed by one man.

In a blink, it was the demons who were the desperate ones—were facing down a force far greater than themselves. They had no choice.

Three Nascent Souls—and hundreds of Core Demons, all at once, poured in their greatest attacks. Their last resorts.

Only one thought went through Zane's mind then.

BRING IT.