Savage Awakening 324. The Festival of Might (III)

Everyone had been so stunned they'd forgotten about Zane.

Then the shouts started up again.

"The new lad's challenging Orin?!"

"Zane's strong, but he's just an Ascendant. He's not even got a Bone, has he?"

"The Barbarian Sage—he's gone mad this time!"

Some other voices popped up too, though.

"I wouldn't count him out. Remember last time? That one's something special."

"He's got weird powers too, don't forget—it's that Title of his! They say he can make his body do things that ought not be possible…"

"I heard the old Barbarian stuffed him with so much treasure, his body could sell for a Dragon-tier Kingdom!"

"Still, the gap's got to be too big… right?"

The Barbarian Sage put a hand on Zane's shoulder.

"Those Heavenly Elephant lads… they were always masters of the Lifting Stones." He blew out a puff of air. "Look—that lad might have a few things on you, couple Levels, a damned good Bone—but you've got something on him too! Right here."

He tapped Zane right in the middle of his chest.

"All that training these past few months—it won't let you down. It'll all come together. Here and now."

"I will not let you down," Zane informed the Barbarian Sage.

"I know you won't." The Sage grinned. "You go get 'em!"

He sent Zane off with a hearty back-slap. Zane strode up to the dais.

There he found Orin standing there. He looked at Zane with curious eyes, then smiled. "Good luck, Zane Walker," he said earnestly. Then he backed away.

He seemed like a nice fellow.

Zane nodded and took the stage.

"Here comes Zane Walker!" roared the announcer. "#1 in the Rising Dragon Ranking… this strapping lad nearly claimed the spot of #1 Ascendant overall the moment he stepped foot in the Faction!"

Hundreds of tankards of beer were thrust mid-air, jostling and clanking.

"Zane! Zane! Zane!"

"Now he's back for a second go," went the announcer. "He's gone through hell these last few months with the Barbarian Sage. Just how much gains has he made?!"

Zane went right by the second Stone. He came to a stop by the Third.

Only one Ascendant in history had even touched this thing.

The Founder of the Conclave himself, Thalgrimm Titanborn.

The Lifting Stones were one of Zane's great strengths. But based on what the Sage had said, it was one of the Heavenly Elephants' as well…

If he was to win, he could not lose out here.

He heard the rumbling of the crowd, the stomping of feet.

"He's really going for the Third Stone—"

"Even lifting it a foot would make him the strongest Ascendant we've ever seen!"

"You go show that stone who's boss, lad!"

Zane grabbed both sides firmly. Sank his hands deep into the crevices until he felt he was almost melded with the Stone. There would be no slipping. He bore down on it, feeling muscles lighting up down his back, down his legs… a slumbering beast, slowly waking.

He took a deep breath.

And lifted.

The Stone groaned. Wobbled. And stayed put.

But Zane was just getting started.

Strength came to him fast. A tide of fierce feeling swept through him. His blood pumped hotter and hotter as his body rose to meet the challenge. These past few months he had come to know his body at an intimate level. He could feel every muscle fiber tensing, coming alive, firing together, making a great wave of force, cresting down his burning arms—

Surging into the Stone.

He grunted.

And the Third Lifting Stone came off the ground.

Shaky at first, but it rose steadily, and every inch made him work for it. By the time he locked out, he was rock solid.

"By gods—he's done it!" said the announcer.

The crowd exploded in cheers; folk drank their tankards, ruddy-faced.

"Hells yes!"

Somewhere deep in the crowd, a booming gruff voice—"That's my lad!"

Behind Zane, the stele showed a new #1 all-time Ascendant. Zane's name stood proud above all the rest.

"In just a few months!"

"No matter what happens, he can hold his head high."

Zane set it down, breathing heavily.

He wasn't done yet.

That was Zane's warm-up lift. It was to get him fired up.

Not an easy one. He'd had to dig pretty deep—but he was quite capable of it.

He was running well hot now.

He strode for the big one.

"He's really going for it—the Fourth Stone!"

"The balls on this lad…"

"Look at his face, though—he looks confident, doesn't he?"

"Lad's face'll change right soon, I expect."

"He's strong, but that's the damned Fourth Stone. Most of the all-time Minor Gods can't touch that thing!"

A chuckle broke through the din. "Who gives a damn? I like it! Lift it or not, he's willing to try—that's the kind of heart a lad ought to have!"

The crowd cheered, raising their tankards at that.

"Zane! Zane! Zane!"

The Barbarian Sage saw Zane go up, and he swore he was more nervous standing here watching than Zane was.

Then again, that was just the lad's temperament. In all their time together, the Sage had never seen him shaken.

He went up to the Fourth Stone—a black behemoth that towered over him—and stared it down unflinching.

If the Barbarian Sage was honest, this one would be tough.

Zane was strong—the Sage knew it better than anyone. And he'd never give up on his lad!

But that Stone… that thing was something else.

Still, there was a strange, tingling feeling in the Barbarian Sage's heart. An electric anticipation.

It was a feeling that was even starting to affect the crowd around him, he saw. Folks were breathless out here.

Something about Zane made people believe.

Maybe it was just the way he carried himself. This was not a man who ever believed he would lose, and it showed in every inch of his being. Not to a Monster—and not to this Fourth Stone.

Then he went out and did the impossible.

Could he show it to them again? Just one more time?

The Sage's heart swelled with hope.

Near the very front, on the other side of the Plaza of Might, he saw the bulky, cape-bound forms of Grand Elders and Ancestors, a bonfire of aura. Lots of thick white beards. They were watching closely, it seemed. The Patriarch himself stood up there, bushy brow furrowed, stroking his knotted beard as Zane put his hands to the Stone.

Zane brushed the surface of the Fourth Stone. It looked like some alien meteorite. He had to clear out all the dust particles before he grasped it—there was a thick mat of them, sucked in by a strong gravity.

He felt it wrenching at his body, this close. He had to fight just to resist it.

He could already tell it would be a formidable foe.

He stared it down—took it in in full.

He sank his hands into it on either side.

Closed his eyes. Felt his body, the beating of his heart. The raging of his Asura State.

He knew what he could do.

He took a single deep breath.

And gave it his all.

His aura spiked to the high Heavens. He growled, mustering every last ounce of strength his body could offer—and slammed it against that Stone.

It didn't so much as budge.

Nothing had moved. And Zane felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

This thing… the vastness of it…

It felt like he was trying to move a pillar of the galaxy itself. As he gritted his teeth, forced more and more of his body into it—he could understand how it had broken that Orin fellow, who hadn't struggled at all with the Third Stone.

This thing was by far the heaviest weight he had ever felt. Heavier than any of the moons, any of those hyper-dense steel continents… it was so heavy its weight felt almost supernatural. Like there was some ancient Law rooting it in place. Something that could not be moved.

But he would not let that stop him.

He stomped down. Bellowed. And tried even harder.

"The lad's not going to make it," breathed Grand Elder Thorin. "But what an effort!"

The energy coming off of Zane was breathtaking.

As he struggled with all he was worth, the effort showed clear on his face. The force he was exerting… it was far beyond what any Ascendant should've been able to muster.

It was absurd to Thorin that it did not come from a God.

But he was going up against a force that had beaten down some of the best Minor Gods of all time.

And though the lad's body was the sculpted peak of what any Ascendant had ever achieved—sheer physical excellence—though he exerted more and more force by the second…

Nothing.

"How is he producing that much power?" said Patriarch Steelheart, stroking the knots in his beard.

"Jogo says it's called 'Asura'—says it's from his Title," said Thorin. "That state… he can push his body far past its limits—many times past!"

"But some things are impossible," wheezed little Grand Elder Moira. She shook her head. "That Stone was never meant to be lifted by an Ascendant. Even for a lad like that. But he's done his Master proud."

The other Grand Elders and Ancestors nodded.

Still—Zane simply would not give up.

"He's got some endurance, doesn't he?" muttered an Ancestor, Lady Ironfingers, tapping her chin with a gauze-bound finger.

By then Zane was trembling head to toe.

In his aura, his soul was laid bare for all in the crowd to feel. To see.

In that huddle of Ancestors, and Elders, and Patriarch, there were aeons of combined experience. They had seen the millennia come and go. Seen civilizations rise and fall. Seen the full spectrum of mankind…

In that moment, none of them could remember seeing a man try as hard as Zane was just then.

Even the crowd had gone silent.

Then they saw the Stone wobble.

"LET'S GOOOOOO!" roared the Barbarian Sage.

Pain spiked up Zane's body.

That wobble was not enough.

His Asura State was burning up his body now—like pumping jet fuel into his muscles. The intensity was growing excruciating.

He could feel the Stone starting to crush him.

He could feel his body starting to fail on him—feel the big muscles in his legs, his back, stretched to the point of breaking…

He wasn't done.

Zane let out a sound of pure defiance… but even with that monstrous force—enough to crush whole planets—

It was not enough to put his name among the greatest of the Gods.

He needed more.

But there was nothing left to draw. His last resort had always been his willpower. Made into raw power with his Asura State—but that State was already burning as hot as it could go. So hot he could feel his body screaming in protest—

He felt a calf muscle explode and staggered.

The world swam before his eyes. No!

He had come to the critical moment.

In that moment, the Fourth Stone became all Zane was facing. The weight of his burden.

He was Earth's front line. All his training—all his effort—would be to face down the Monster hordes coming for his home. His friends. And that, he knew, would be a far greater challenge than this…

If he failed here… what would happen once the Monsters came for them?

He could not give in. Not then. Not now.

Somehow it gave him an extra surge of strength.

Zane howled.

Then a terrible thought came to him. Just as he was reaching the point of ultimate failure.

A thought that struck him to his core.

What if it were Reina underneath this Stone?

Zane's eyes went blank.