Author: Blaise Corvin
Date: 2022-03-15 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Post Apocalyptic; Urban Fantasy
Description: The Earth has been overrun with monsters... Post-Apocalypse America is unrecognizable from the past. Jake survives by working as the leader of a scavenging adventuring team. A former mage, now he follows the strange path of cultivation, taught to him by a mysterious traveler. As far as he knows, he is one of the only people on Earth with this power. Events will unfold that change Jake's life forever. Jake might even lose his very humanity while trying to do the right thing. But in return, perhaps he will grasp a second chance to save himself and others, to correct the past. He is about to be c
Publisher: Independently published

TROJAN NIGHTMARE

©2022 BLAISE CORVIN

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.

All rights reserved.

"For Melli."

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Thank you for reading Trojan Nightmare

Groups

LitRPG

Chapter 1

Jacob Hessian Mazzariello dodged a magical ball of green fire but lost his balance. He rolled forward as it blew up the rusting pickup truck behind him. “Shit!” With an effort of will, he used his ki to energize another flash step behind the corner of a building, moving beyond the reach of any dangerous shrapnel.

As usual, he thought about the Three Winds Northern Lights Fist, a mysterious, single-use attack he’d been holding on to for years. But this situation, although hairy, wasn’t quite desperate enough for something like that yet. Hopefully.

He absently noted that the building he was hiding behind had once been a pizza restaurant. Now the pizza chain’s cartoon mascot was faded from years of neglect, and judging by the amount of filth inside on the tables, the windows had been broken out for years too.

As metal pinged off the concrete sidewalk, Jake heard a sound like a hammer breaking a cinder block from a rooftop nearby and called up, “Are bullets working against this thing?”

“No dice! It has a barrier!”

“Are you sure?”

“Look, Jake, if you want to try taking a shot, I will toss the fucking rifle down! Now excuse me while I try to stay alive.” A moment later, part of the rooftop where the speaker had been hiding went up in green flame, the same color as the fissure witches’ other attacks.

“God dammit.” Jake wasn’t worried about Miller, as the sharpshooter had a knack for avoiding injury. Instead, he was more upset about the barrier.

He sighed and holstered his Glock. The 9mm had served him well for years, but it was proving less and less useful recently. In some ways, it was probably for the best, though—bullets were hard to come by these days.

Jake drew his sword instead, a serviceable and plain, but very practical, saber. He usually kept the weapon sheathed on his back with a modified scabbard. Drawing it from his back wasn’t as fast as from the hip, but it did work. It kept the weapon secure and out of the way when he didn’t need it.

Another explosion sent a shockwave through the air, blowing debris around the corner.

Running footsteps behind him resolved into Hailey Brast. The normally posh, conscientious black girl was out of breath, and some of her hair and half an eyebrow had been singed off. She’d put away her firearm too, so now her trusty Remington rifle poked up over her shoulder. The woman had her butterfly knives in hand, and the edges glittered.

“The fucking things have shields!” she shouted.

“I heard.” Another blast punctuated Jake’s words.

“How did you know? The coms are down.”

“Miller told me before he lost his rooftop.”

“Oh.” She paused. Distant screaming echoed through the evening sky. Hailey shook her head. “Sounds like civvies. Any plans for them?”

“No. This is a contested zone. They’re on their own.”

“Well, at least that makes sense.” She turned and spat on the pavement. “Fuck, this is the worst time to be doing this, and there are two of them! The mission is FUBAR. Do we have a new plan?”

“Yeah, but without coms and with the enemy throwing magic everywhere, we need alternate communication. Can you handle that, Brast?”

“No problem. Why do you think I just about lost half my ass coming to find you?”

“Roger that. Good hustle.”

As a rank 6 adventurer, Hailey Brast was not the most powerful person on the team, but the former Marine was definitely one of the most competent.

“Tell Landry to tank one of the witches,” Jake said. “They’re probably at about mid C level, but he’s rank 8. He should be able to handle one for a while. Once he’s engaged, the rest of us will kill the other one then come bail him out.”

The former Marine nodded. “Understood, roger that. I need to get to a good transition location. Stand by.” She sheathed her blades and sprang to the side of the building, clinging to the wall like a spider. Then she crawled up to the roof and disappeared.

Brast was solid, and Jake trusted she’d get the job done. He began moving, staying in cover, making his way to the more distant sound of fighting.

Their team had come to this town on contract to make some money by killing a witch, maybe even help some people and do some good in the process. But instead of one, two of the damn things had popped out of the lair—an abandoned building—and his entire team had almost instantly died.

I’m getting too old for this shit, he thought. It had been about six years since Purple Rain, right? He hadn’t celebrated any birthdays for a while, but he did the math in his head. He was probably around thirty-four years old now. Time flies when you’re having fun.

Jake ran down the street on nothing but muscle power. He was tempted to use his ki to move faster, but wanted to conserve energy. This mission had already gone sideways fast, and the apocalypse had made him cautious if nothing else.

Suddenly, he skidded to a stop as one of the fissure witches stalked into the intersection directly ahead of him. The creature slowly turned, opening its jaws in what might have been intended as a grin, but missing cheeks and ravaged flesh made the expression look like a hungry leer.

The fissure witch had been human before Purple Rain. Some poor bastards had turned into monsters. But this had been a normal, thinking person who’d decided to go all-in with something evil sometime after Purple Rain. Jake hated these types of monsters the most, because they were living proof of how shitty and selfish some people could be.

It really didn’t help that the smart monsters were more dangerous, and fissure witches could still think like a human if they wanted to.

This witch looked like it’d been a man before it had turned. Now it stood stooped, ravaged with balding spots, stained teeth, missing patches of its face, and wearing nothing but dirty rags. The thing’s hands had grown unnaturally long and ended in claws. It actually looked a bit like a deformed zombie, except for the fact that it crackled with magic.

Too bad for whoever this thing had been; they’d probably been hoping for a more regal or demonic appearance like some other witches had. This one hadn’t been so lucky.

Maybe this was why it seemed so angry.

As it raised a hand to attack, Jake flash-stepped sideways, first to a side street, then twice more to make distance.

Where he’d been standing moments before exploded and burned.

Flash step was a beginner ability for eastern magic users and cultivators, but was difficult to master. Jake had a long way to go before he could ever be considered a master, but he seemed to have a knack for the ability.

Jake was straining this ability to the max these days, but monsters could be fast. All alone, even as a rank 7 adventurer, he didn’t stand a chance one on one against either of the two fissure witches his team was fighting.

He ran as hard as he could, rounding a corner, and waited to build enough ki reserves to fill his body with power. After he felt his energy return enough, he jumped to the rooftop of an abandoned coffee shop.

After a whine of high-pitched magical static, he heard Hailey Brast’s voice in his left ear. Seemed she was able to sync with the mystic communication node implanted there. “Team, I got orders from Jake! Landry needs to hold off the witch to the east, solo. As soon as he is engaged and pisses it off enough, the rest of us are gonna dog pile the wicked witch of the west. Be advised that firearms don’t work on these things; they have shields. I say again, no firearms. We’re low on ammo anyway. It’s blades and magic for this op. Brast, out.”

“Maybe we should have adopted callsigns after all,” Jake muttered.

He heard a feral growl below and managed to flash-step to the next rooftop before the area he’d just been standing in burst into green flame.

Jake caught motion out the corner of his eye, and turned in time to see Tracy Main effortlessly jumping between roofs as she ran to join him. Tall and thin, Tracy’s red hair was tied back in a bandana. Before Purple Rain, she’d been a hippie. Now she was a hard-as-nails freelancer. Her military-style clothing—same as the entire team wore as a uniform—looked practically new.

“What’s up, Main?” Jake asked.

Tracy wrinkled her nose. “The one down there chased me around, but then just turned back and ignored me. It was super weird.”

“That is strange.” Jake jerked his head to the side, behind them. “Let’s move.” He led the way, jumping down from the roof to a parking lot below. They adopted an easy jog. The creature in the street on the other side of the buildings could move fast, but didn’t seem to like high places, so if it followed it would likely take the long way around.

“Guns don’t work on these witches,” said Tracy. The wind mage scout was wrinkling her nose again. “And that green fire stinks.”

“I agree, yes it does, and I already knew that. Why does everyone keep telling me that these things have shields?”

Main shook her head. “Jake, I’m not telling you, I was bitching about it. This was supposed to be an easy job.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy.”

“I can’t argue with you there!”

As the two of them rounded a corner, Jake spotted Miller up on a rooftop down the street. The bearded man waved. He’d put his rifle away, some sort of pimped out AR platform that he reloaded .338 rounds for.

Now the sharp shooter held his tricked-out crossbow instead. Jake knew that the man had special bolts for the weapon, and some were blessed, charmed, or cursed. Smart. The special bolts would likely be much more effective than bullets during this op.

Miller liked to be versatile.

In the distance, something new exploded, and it sounded even more destructive than usual. Jake assumed that was Landry tanking the other witch. If it was using more power to attack, the witch was likely more pissed off than it had been before—Landry tended to have that kind of effect. His natural ability to make everything want to hit him made him a good tank, though.

“As soon as Brast shows up, we’ll get started,” Jake said.

They didn’t have long to wait, however. The nature mage came barreling around a corner a moment later, and the witch that Jake had just encountered was close behind.

Brast had her butterfly knives out, but she wisely wasn’t fighting, just keeping as much distance as possible. The moment she spotted the other group members, she headed directly for them and threw a hand behind her, tossing a packet of seeds that exploded into a colorful smoke screen.

“Take positions!” Jake shouted.

His team, the Grasshopper Mice, knew exactly what to do. By the time the witch cleared the smoke, all of them had readied themselves.

The moment the creature became visible, it was hit by a cloud of flies, courtesy of Hailey Brast. They all melted the second they made contact, turning into a sticky, viscous glue. The witch’s magic shield—common for powerful creatures and adventurers—could stop bullets, but didn’t work well against slower moving objects or certain types of magic.

Tracy Main moved to position at one side, flanking as she used her wind magic on street debris, sending things flying at the monster’s feet. The attack didn’t trip the creature, but it was distracted for a moment.

A second blast staggered it further and completely stole its attention, long enough for Miller to take a shot.

A crossbow bolt sprouted from the creature’s chest. A second later, the witch burst into flame. The projectile’s fire enhancement had ignited the glue the monster had been covered with.

As the witch thrashed around, Jake waited patiently for his team to weaken it further. Tracy Main threw a powerful blade of air that was mostly stopped by the witch’s barrier, but some managed to push through and cause damage. A moment later, another crossbow bolt slammed home into the monster’s shoulder.

Good enough, Jake thought. He hefted his saber before energizing his body with ki. It strengthened his muscles, organs, and bones. Once ready, he flash-stepped forward.

He swung his sword with superhuman speed as he passed by, and one of the witch’s arms fell to the ground. It screamed and turned, but was too slow.

Jake pushed power through one of the enchanted rings he wore. A wave of force shot forward from his hand, hitting the witch in the chest at the same time that Tracy Main used her wind magic to trip it.

The witch fell backwards. A new pack of seeds, thrown by Brast, burst into green vines that began wrapping the creature up. The witch fought it and would eventually escape the tangle.

Jake saw the monster turn and realized their target was about to try running away. They had limited time to kill it now. He would have liked the thing to be weaker first, but they didn’t have time with Landry distracting the other one by himself.

He flash-stepped forward again, expertly attacking with his saber as he did so. Training with weapons at high levels of speed and movement had been incredibly difficult, but necessary. And rewarding. After the apocalypse, the number of adventurers who’d accidentally committed suicide attempting to use flashy abilities they hadn’t mastered yet likely approached the number killed by monsters.

Jake wasn’t one of them.

His saber hit the witch’s head with a sickening crunch. Normally, the monster might have been able to dodge or defend itself. If so, Jake might have been in trouble. If Jake hadn’t started off as a magic-focused adventurer, he would be a lot stronger these days in hand-to-hand combat. Since the first couple years of his post-Purple Rain life had been spent understanding magic, he still hadn’t progressed very far with his cultivation discipline. Eventually, he would attain a much stronger body if he kept practicing.

But learning about magic had allowed him to discover one of the greatest side benefits of his new energy style.

He pushed ki through one of his magic rings. They were a potent weapon that normally would allow a magic-based user to fire off one spell with a long recharge time. Usually about a week. Instead of using them as intended, Jake was able to pump ki into the ring, converting his own energy to charge the magical effect with a high rate of efficiency. This also allowed him to avoid the long cooldown time.

An icy spear of freezing magic burst from the ring, hitting the witch in the chest, and Jake swung his saber again while he pushed ki into the blade. The mighty cut almost severed the witch’s torso in two. It collapsed without a sound.

Miller whistled and lowered his crossbow. “Wasn’t that a bit overkill?”

Jake shook his head. “No way. We still need to bail out Landry. Sometimes nuking these fuckers from orbit is the only way to be sure.”

The rest of the team politely chuckled at the old joke, and they all moved toward the sound of combat to save their comrade. From the rear of their formation, Brast said, “Once we had that mob where we wanted him, it went quick, huh?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be like that from the start,” said Main. The wind mage was checking a burned portion of her armor and sucked her teeth.

“You all seem fairly relaxed for a bunch of adventurers with one team mate still fighting a mob by himself,” Jake said.

“Yeah, well, it’s Landry out there. He’s too big of an asshole to die,” Brast said. The nature mage spat.

As the others muttered agreement, Jake sighed and nodded. “Yeah, he’s an asshole, but he’s our asshole. Let’s bail him out.”

Miller smiled. “You got it, boss.”

* * *

“Seriously, you all sure took your fucking time to show up,” growled Calvin Landry. This was probably the fifth time he’d brought the subject up to complain. The Grasshopper Mice had been bickering the entire way back to their Forward Operations Base, or FOB.

“We moved directly there,” Brast said while sharpening her butterfly knives.

Tracy Main was driving, and the rest of them were in the back with all their gear on, ready to jump out in case of trouble. This was how they usually traveled if they were near an infected area.

Landry didn’t seem convinced. The big black man ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and adjusted his bulky armor, a composite of thick titanium and Kevlar that would be far too heavy for an unenhanced human to wear. “That fucking witch almost got me like four times! I didn’t ask to be the highest ranked person in this bullshit outfit. My job is to tank the fucking monsters while you kill them, not go off on my own and almost get my balls singed off. Why do—”

“Quiet, Landry. We’re almost back to HQ,” Jake warned.

“I don’t give a fuck,” their tank muttered.

“Oh really? You should know by now that the Company folks have zero sense of humor and a lot of opinions about acting professional. I want to get paid. Do you?” Jake gave him a level look.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know.” Landry spat over the side of the truck.

They were only moving around thirty miles per hour at the moment—driving slowly was another way the group lowered risk while traveling in hostile territory. Where they were now, formerly somewhere in Ohio, was mostly tamed, and adventurer activity was heavy due to the government-funded FOB, but the group had a motto about being careful.

“Stay careful, stay alive,” Miller said with a smile. He had his prized rifle in his lap, ready to be used. His crossbow was on his back.

“And paid,” Brast chimed in. She sheathed her butterfly knives.

From inside the truck, Main smacked the back of the cab before yelling out the window, “Something is going on up there, at the gates!”

Jake stood to take a look. Sure enough, there was a massive amount of activity in front of the FOB. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the hell was happening.

The Grasshopper Mice were only a C-rank group, rated that way based on the level of the monsters they could safely handle. Since they were low-powered for their rank, normally, they tried to deal with a single C-rank monster, or maybe even lower-level mobs like zombies, or a few ghouls.

Mobs, thought Jake and sighed. Gamer slang had become much more common now after Earth had changed.

Before the truck could even reach the gates, some of the Company officials who ran the base, a few government types, and some soldiers flagged down the truck. An important-looking man with a clipboard walked up and asked, “Who is in charge here? What group are you?”

“Jacob Mazzariello, and we’re the Grasshopper Mice. What is going on?”

The man’s voice was grim. “You haven’t heard?” When Jake mutely shook his head, the man continued. “Our scientists have detected a stabilized tear in spacetime nearby. It could be an invasion. The real deal. Every single fighter from the FOB is being conscripted. We leave in about an hour. Reinforcements are inbound, but we’re emptying out the FOB to serve as a quick reaction strike team and to recon.”

“Conscripted?” Brast gasped as the man with the clipboard walked away. The official, likely a government employee, also likely trusted they’d find someone else to ask any further questions.

“Are we gonna dip out?” whispered Miller. “Like, try to get the hell out of here?”

Landry looked like he agreed with that plan.

Miller patted his rifle. “We’re good, but if this is real, we’re being sent in as pawns. The big guns aren’t here yet, right?”

“No, we should stay,” Jake said, shaking his head.

“Why?” Main wrinkled her nose.

Behind her, Landry was already nodding his head and met Jake’s gaze. “What the hell, Jake?” the big black man said. “We should get the fuck out of Dodge.”

Jake sighed. “How are you so sure we could even get away? That smug guy with the clipboard said it’s a real tear, like a portal. Look at all of this activity! This has to be the real deal. And if the tear is close, and a big enough threat they’re strong-arming everyone at the FOB to deal with it… Think about it. There hasn’t been any politicking, and we haven’t heard about this until now. We’ve only been gone for two days. This s-tear is probably a big one. If it’s not dealt with, we might all die anyway.”

Brast shook her head. “But s-tears can’t be that serious. I mean—”

“What about Mexico?” asked Landry.

Brast’s mouth shut with a click.

“We can’t let this place become like Mexico,” said Jake. “We don’t have much civilization left as it is.”

“But we’re only a C-rank group!” Brast protested.

“Every little bit might count,” Miller said. He sadly shook his head. “I think the boss is right.”

Landry sighed. “Me too.” He spat. “Dammit. I hate to admit it, but me too.”

“Me three,” Main said from inside the truck.

Brast made a face. “Well, at least we should get paid. We’re pretty much broke now. Neither of the witches had cores or magic stones. Two C-rank mobs with no cores. Terrible luck.”

“Our luck may get worse,” Landry groused.

“Now why would you say that?” Miller asked. He frowned. “Why do you always gotta be such an asshole, Landry?”

Jake tuned them out. His eyes were on the eastern sky. The clouds gathering there were giving him a very bad feeling.

Chapter 2

Jake was trying to hide it, but he was beginning to feel truly freaked out.

He’d never seen the Warren Company, nor Allied American Military, do anything in such a timely manner before. Much less jointly. The speed and efficiency that the FOB administration had displayed in re-gearing his team, then putting all the adventurers who’d “volunteered” for the emergency mission on expensive, armored government transportation had been astounding.

In fact, he wouldn’t have believed it was possible if he hadn’t witnessed it himself.

It was good that the team had legitimately volunteered, because they’d gotten to ride in style in an Armored Personnel Carrier. Unlike the adventurers who had refused or tried to run. They had been conscripted anyway. The conscripts were in the older transports and under guard.

Everyone was heading toward the s-tear. He kept trying to shake the feeling that something was massively wrong, but the traces of terror he saw in the Warren Company personnel’s eyes was making it tough.

“What do you all make of this?” Brast asked, speaking barely above a whisper. The nature mage sat across from Jake in the troop transport that the group had been herded into.

“I don’t know,” Tracy Main said, “but I think Jake was right. This is serious.” She was sitting to Jake’s left, and she fidgeted as she looked around nervously. The woman was unfalteringly brave most of the time, but didn’t like small spaces. And the troop transport really did feel cramped with the Grasshopper Mice and one other adventuring team that Jake didn’t know all crammed inside.

Larger weapons—like spears—had been stowed on the outside of the vehicle, but Miller had refused to part with his .338 Lapua rifle. He had it between his knees, his hands resting with the barrel between them. The military people loading the vehicles had only let him keep it because he could fold the stock.

To Jake’s right, Landry scoffed. “Whatever,” the big man said. “It’s probably some pencil-necked wuss or new-age-y adventurer with a flashy title getting everyone worked up. Have you seen the firepower in this convoy? This group could kill a dragon.”

Jake shook his head and looked out a porthole on the side of the APC, watching their surroundings pass. This area of Ohio had been hit hard by the apocalypse, likely because a lot of people had been outside when the Purple Rain fell.

His eyes fell on a strip mall and he sadly noticed old signs of violence. Windows had been shot out or smashed. One of them had been boarded up, probably a survivor’s attempt to make defenses against zombies and other lower-level monsters that the Purple Rain had created.

Jake would never forget that day. The confusion, the horror. There’d been no warning. One minute, there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky, and the next, the sky had turned dark and overcast with violet clouds before fat rain had started to fall.

Later, before the internet and television had failed completely, videos and images from all around the world had shown the terrifying reality. Monsters, creatures from myths and legend, had appeared from portals. People exposed to the Purple Rain turned into monsters, or more rarely, super-powered versions of their old selves.

Then a small portion of the population had awakened, tendrils of magic crawling up their souls.

The entire planet had been engulfed in confusion and terror. Millions—maybe billions—of people had died. Nobody knew the real death count. Communication could still be difficult, and a lot of people who’d been killed had been eaten.

“We do have a lot of power in this convoy,” Main admitted. The wind mage had her chin in her hand, and grimaced at Landry even as she agreed with him. “But is it enough?”

Miller popped some gum into his mouth and absently wiggled the barrel of his rifle back and forth. “They grabbed up the entire military from the FOB and every adventuring party they could get their hands on. I’m kind of surprised there wasn’t more fighting.”

Brast shook her head. “The Company had one of those hot shit Esper-types with them and a really high-ranked, sell-out adventurer or two. I think most folks chose to go instead of going anyway with a broken arm or leg. Smart money on the fact that the heavy hitters aren’t with the main convoy, though. They’re probably following from a distance.”

“It’s kind of messed up that people needed to be scared into going in the first place,” Jake said. “If this is a repeat of what happened in Mexico…”

Miller and Brast both looked thoughtful. A couple members of the other adventuring team in the APC who’d been pretending not to be listening nodded in agreement.

Landry grunted. The big man pulled a little music player and speakers out of his pack. “Look, we can’t get out of this shit either way, and everyone’s armed to the teeth, so let’s bump it.”

“Maybe you should ask the other team in here first,” Brast suggested.

“Yeah, whatever, Marine.” Landry rolled his eyes. “If we give you some crayons, will you shut the fuck up?”

“You are such an asshole, Landry.” Brast sighed. “Fine, just play the fucking music. But if those guys over there kick your ass, I’m not going to help you.” She jerked her thumb at the other team, and one of them, a big guy with a mustache, smiled.

Landry chuckled. “Yeah, whatever.”

In a few seconds, vintage rap music flooded the APC. Jake recognized the song: “X,” by Xzibit.

They all nodded for a while to the music.

Suddenly, Landry looked directly at Main and grinned. “X just said dick.”

“In the track?”

“Yup.” The man’s smile grew wider.

“Yeah, I heard that,” the wind mage said. “Maybe you should let us know when you get one.”

To one side, Brast cackled, slapping her knee and pointing at the fuming Landry.

Jake chuckled. “You should really give that a rest, Landry. She’s way too quick-witted for you.”

“Whatever, Jake,” groused the big man.

One of the other adventurers in the vehicle suddenly asked, “You know, sorry, I got a question. Why the hell does your crew call you Jake when everyone else gets called by last names?”

“I’ve wondered about that too, actually,” said another adventurer who’d looked asleep. This man had a big, elaborate mustache. He still didn’t open his eyes.

Jake shrugged. “It goes all the way back to when me and Brast were in a different adventuring company. The team leader had a hard time saying my last name, so she just called me Jake. It stuck.”

“Seriously, that’s it?” The man who’d asked the question made a face. “That’s the most boring story ever.”

Brast laughed. “It’s true, though. Even the people in the Company and the military call him Jake.”

“It just happened that way,” Jake said with a shrug.

For the next few minutes, Landry and Main bickered as the music played but nothing else was happening, so Jake decided to meditate. He settled himself into a more comfortable sitting position and folded his hands in his lap.

Jake had learned cultivation from a mysterious traveler a couple of years before. His Master. The man had likely been a spacial traveler, or s-tee, from another dimension. The cranky bastard had just disappeared one day. After Jake had learned to cultivate, he’d seemed to be well suited for it, but it was hard to grow in power since there was so little natural energy around the Earth. Plus, he always needed to fight the other energies that his body had been riddled with from experimenting with different powers.

Jake had been one of the people who had discovered magic after Purple Rain.

He’d been lucky enough not to actually get wet that day.

As usual, he started off slowly, concentrating on his breathing and slowly circling his energy through his meridians. Then he drew more power out of his dantian, increasing energy to the cycle around his body, then opening himself, reaching out for yet more energy, drawing it in, purifying it, and adding it to the cycle.

The process was slow, difficult, and could be painful. Under his breath, Jake began chanting to help focus his mind and body, allowing his spirit to float while he circulated power, widening his meridians and purifying the energy itself.

It felt like he was only at it for a few minutes, but he slowly woke up to someone yelling, “Jake! Jake!”

He opened his eyes and the entire team was looking at him. AC/DC was playing in the background on Landry’s speakers. “I think we’re almost there, boss,” said Brast.

“What the hell were you doing? Was that some Asian magic shit?” Landry asked.

“It’s not really Asian,” Jake said as he unfolded himself. “At least not the energy itself, just like tablet magic is not really Greek. Most historians believe now that magic was on Earth in the distant past, and some dimensional travelers who knew how to cultivate shared their knowledge—actually, never mind. How long have I been out?”

“About an hour,” Miller said.

“Someone just came over the convoy coms,” Brast added. “They say we’re getting close—” Her last word was interrupted by the sound of gunfire from somewhere in the convoy.

Immediately after that came a thunderous explosion, and the APC swerved.

Static crackled through the APC’s speakers and a voice said, “Red alert, red alert. Convoy under attack. Dismount and proceed on foot. Red alert, red alert. Convoy under attack—”

“Let’s get the fuck out!” shouted Landry, and as soon as the APC had slowed down a bit more, he forced the back doors open. One of the members of the other team helped him. As soon as the doors were open, everyone tumbled out.

The APC screeched to a halt behind them. Its drivers jumped out, clambering over to rucks on the outside of the vehicle that held all their other gear. The convoy had been driving on a country road next to fields, and were all scattered now. One APC was in the middle of the road, and someone was firing a 50-cal machine gun on top of it until a segmented monster burst from the ground, carrying the gurgling soldier down to the other side of the vehicle.

“Oh my God,” Main whispered. She pointed past all the other confused convoy members at a distant field that was beginning to crumble. “Look!”

As Jake watched, the hole in the field grew larger and red light erupted out of the hole. Several powerful monsters climbed out too. One of them, something big, demonic, and disturbing, began tearing apart a distant group of soldiers while they all ineffectually fired at it. Meanwhile, one of the more powerful adventuring teams had gotten their shit together, and a competent mage loosed a magical attack at the demon. The blast rocked it back, but then it turned and waggled a finger with a grin.

Next to Jake, a member from the other team that had been in the APC with the Grasshopper Mice, the swarthy man with a mustache, chuckled. “We were right on top of the fucking thing. It was just under the ground!”

“Underground?” Landry asked.

“It really is an s-tear,” Brast said, her voice barely above a whisper. “A big one, or at least, one that is about to happen. It’s on purpose. These things are doing it on purpose.”

Now Jake could hear the sound of chanting coming from the direction of the hole in the field, and as he watched, a pitch-black pyramid began slowly emerging from the earth. A big demon stood at its tip, holding aloft a glowing staff. Around it, a few of the soldiers and adventurers launched weapons or magic at it, but a brilliant crimson shield flashed, protecting the demon mage with the staff.

Miller spat. “Demons? This is fucked.”

“Just like the reports from Mexico,” Jake said.

“Yeah. I think this is happening here too, and we’re at ground zero.” He spat.

Around them, other monsters erupted from the ground or occasionally flew down from the sky. Adventurers and soldiers fought back, but Jake didn’t watch. His eyes were glued to the pyramid. Brilliant crimson writing glittered on its sides now, and the clouds overhead began roiling.

To one side, Miller’s rifle cracked as he shot at something, and Main screamed in warning before a monster landed nearby.

Jake drew his saber and ducked to one side as the monster lunged. He slashed to score a deep cut in its side. Then the rest of his team and the other team of adventurers finished it off.

They’d been lucky.

In the distance, the small number of creatures that had climbed out of the field near where the pyramid was rising were biting off and eating legs of soldiers and adventurers alike.

Main gasped, horrified. “Why are the monsters leaving most of them alive?”

The sky flashed, and Jake heard a booming voice. “Rejoice, food!” cackled the thing from the top of the pyramid. “You can witness the magnificence of our lord!”

“This is bad!” Brast screamed. “They’re not trying to kill us; they’re just keeping us here!”

Jake suddenly noticed pylons crackling with energy in the distance. He realized that they were spaced apart equally, likely the points of a giant, magic circle. The air hummed with magical power and the tips of the pylons crackled. “Shoot at those fucking things!” he shouted.

It was too late, though. The trap had been clever and they’d all walked into it.

Blood pounded in Jake’s ears as scarlet light flooded from the pyramid. He’d known the reality that the Company and the military had sent the entire FOB to slow this thing down, not necessarily stop it.

Everyone in the convoy had been expendable.

His last thought on Earth as the light washed over him and filled his world was that everyone was going to die for no reason. They’d all been too weak and too late to do anything. Those in charge had failed them again, maybe failed humanity.

Chapter 3

The horizon seemed to turn.

One moment Jake and his team were on Earth, and the next the sky was dark, with a chill wind. There was barely enough light to see by, but it was red-hued, and shadows moved in the distance.

The air smelled awful, like a mix of smoke, sulfur, and rot.

Jake’s palm hit the ground as his stomach flip-flopped and his senses reeled. All around him, others were also being affected by the change. One woman was even on the ground having a seizure. Her teammate covered her, screaming for a medic, but the entire convoy had lost cohesion.

There were dozens of vehicles nearby, and at least several hundred people scattered as far as Jake could see. Weapons were fired in several places. Someone was screaming, wailing in agony toward the front of the convoy. Wind howled between vehicles and over the grass.

“What the—” Main screamed, but she was cut off as a huge, glowing figure rose into the sky. Jake recognized it as the demonic thing that had been at the top of the pyramid.

“Welcome to another dimension!” the monster said in perfect English. “You have been claimed as sacrifices for our grand work. I am priest Narihal, and I welcome you to your new, final resting place! Since despair tastes so sweet, I will inform you that yes, your world now has another spacial rift, what you call an s-tear. In fact, you helped create it when you acted the part of sacrifices! But the one you helped create is to this realm, not the vulgar beachhead established earlier on your world. The truly great news is that this is not the only new spacial rift on your world!

“Your pitiful race has lost the last of its protection! This creation you have been a part of, bringing our realm to your planet, is only one of several taking place at this very moment! Soon, the struggle over the bones of your world will only be amongst your betters, and your species will be extinct!”

The baboon-faced, lizard-bodied creature grinned, its eyes shining with evil, then the image faded.

After that, all hell broke loose.

As magical attacks bloomed, automatic weapons fired, and vehicles caught fire, Jake realized that this really was what had happened in Mexico all over again. It looked like a part of Earth had been transported to another dimension, and a corresponding patch of this world, probably full of monsters or demons, had been sent to Earth along with a portal.

The magical projection of the demon that had taunted them had lit up the area. When it disappeared, it only left sparks behind in the sky. And they were fading fast. The area was growing darker by the minute.

“Should we go back to the vehicle?” Miller shouted.

“No! We need to bug out!” Jake answered. “Most of the vehicles look like they’re hexed anyway!” He pointed at one that was sparking with red magic.

An engine coughed in the distance, proving that at least some of the vehicles still worked. Then about two hundred yards away, someone took off in an APC, as if to escape. An almost solid wall of demons rushed forward from the shadows outside the transported Ohio soil—a large number of them focused on the moving vehicle, and it was ripped apart almost instantly.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Brast screamed.

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Team. Grab packs and supplies if you can, but we are leaving in five seconds. You, other team,” he said, pointing at one of the unfamiliar adventurers. “What is your name and rank?”

“C-rank. We’re called the Land Sharks,” said the man with the mustache.

“You can go your own way or support us,” Jake said. “We’re the Grasshopper Mice. If you’re with us, form a second wedge following ours.”

“We’re in,” the man said with a nod. “I’m Smith. There’s no time to measure dicks over leadership, so we’ll follow as long as you’re not being a dumbass.”

“Okay, Smith, I’m Jake. Let’s keep our heads on straight and watch our sectors of fire. You know what I mean?” As he spoke, Jake drew his Glock.

“You got it.” Smith signaled to his team, three other people. “We’re with them for now,” he said to them. They all nodded.

True to his word, Jake gave the order to move out only seconds later. Their surroundings were dark, and only lit up with gunfire, magical attacks, or in one case, someone being thrown through the air who’d been set on fire first.

Jake gritted his teeth, trying to keep a calm head. To stay still, to not act, would result in death. He didn’t have time to freak out right now. The reality was he was in a new world, surrounded by enemies and probably doomed. He grimly thought, Not giving up yet, dammit!

Everything seemed to go relatively well at first.

Jake led both teams across the transported farmland. He knew that, in order to survive, they needed to get the hell out of the immediate area. It seemed demons were rushing the fields, making sport of slaughtering the surviving humans. People were fighting back, but doing so made them stand out and become bigger targets.

Any loud or flashy fighting seemed to be attracting the roving demons.

As soon as Jake realized that making too much noise could kill everyone, he put his pistol away. Miller reluctantly slung his rifle over his shoulder and instead drew his crossbow. The rest of the team prepared for stealthy combat as well.

All the other surviving humans must have figured out the demon’s plans at the same time. Even the distant soldiers had stopped firing and the entire area had grown eerily quiet, with only the wind and the odd scream for punctuation.

Visibility was terrible, but breaking out flashlights was not an option.

The Grasshopper Mice stayed together. They managed to kill or evade the lone monsters that ran out of the darkness. Most of the creatures that attacked were demonic—all chitin, blades, claws, and teeth. Luckily, they were all around rank D or even F, and most had seemed to be some sort of hellhounds. Canine monsters were usually easier for experienced adventurers to kill. Especially with only pure physical might. Calling attention with light or magical energies at this point would not be wise.

Jake flash-stepped to lop off heads with his saber, and Landry used his great physical might to crush skulls and break necks with his bare hands.

Landry took point. Jake positioned himself to one side, spreading out in a classic military wedge formation. The sky continued to glow a sullen red, but clouds were rolling in, and visibility just kept getting worse. Jake kept his saber ready, and was using his chi to sharpen his senses and fill his body with energy. This was not the time to conserve power.

Everyone was quiet, using hand signals to communicate as best they could. Every command had to be passed back one at a time since each member of both teams could only see one or two others at any given time. As he passed back a sign that Landry might have spotted movement to the right, Jake kept careful watch, staying focused in a way he’d learned long ago. All survivors of the Purple Rain could do this—compartmentalize emotions. Anyone back on Earth who fell apart from stress or couldn’t deal with danger had either died or found a life they could live with a long time ago.

Jake and his team were all survivors. In fact, everyone still alive now after being transported were likely not the most powerful warriors on Earth, but weren’t slouches either. Professional soldiers and adventurers these days had to be tough or they wouldn’t have survived this long.

Deep down, Jake knew he should be in the fetal position, pissing on himself. He was still scared, but he was keeping it together. And another emotion was warring with the fear in his heart: anger.

Jake hated monsters, and the talking kind or previously human kind were always infuriating. Demons were the absolute worst. They enjoyed inflicting pain and being pricks just for the hell of it.

Laughter floated across the crimson darkness, and Jake’s shoulders crawled. There was something out there. Hunting. He felt vibrations through his boots too, like something big was coming.

“Do you feel that?” Brast whispered, and Jake nearly jumped out of his skin. She’d used her magic to project her voice to the team’s ears.

Jake touched his throat and borrowed Brast’s magic to hiss back to the entire team, “Yes! Stay frosty.”

A couple minutes later, the area behind them, where they’d come from, lit up all at once as multiple teams opened fire or used magic. Fiery explosions pushed back the darkness enough to get a good look around, and Jake cursed.

They were surrounded.

A looming monster, some sort of knobby-skinned clawed thing, stood to one side where it’d been motionlessly watching them.

After the area lit up, one long, clawed hand reached out and grabbed a Land Shark. She screamed in terror. The hand was so big, it’d wrapped almost around the Land Shark adventurer’s entire body. She screamed until her head was bitten off.

“Kyrkos!” Smith yelled. The mustached man pointed a wand and an explosion erupted on the monster’s flank. At the same time, the remaining two members of the Land Sharks also attacked, one with a bow and one with a submachine gun.

This is it, Jake thought. The monsters planned this last assault. His suspicions seemed confirmed when more laughter wafted through the darkness from two directions. “Attack!” he yelled.

Miller’s crossbow twanged as Brast threw explosive seeds that detonated like hundreds of tiny grenades. Main swung her hand and a blade of air slashed forward. Jake drew and fired his Glock.

All of the attacks combined did some damage and the big demon staggered backwards, but then surged back forward and its long, taloned hands reached out to grab two more Land Sharks.

The thing gurgled in pleasure as it bit them in half.

“Shit!” Brast threw more exploding seeds, but they barely did any damage. Instead, her attack just seemed to catch the monster’s attention. At that moment, another hellhound ran out of the darkness, and Jake danced aside before cutting its head in half. The Grasshopper Mice could manage hellhounds, but they didn’t have enough fire power for the huge creature chewing on adventurers.

“Run!” Jake ordered, and led by example. He took off in the general direction he thought was away from the center of the area that had been transported. His ears told him that his team and Smith were all following. Smith was crying.

Rumbling footsteps followed them. When the man’s crying abruptly ceased, Jake looked back to see the big, warty monster pushing the screaming adventurer into its mouth.

Landry abruptly turned, running directly for the creatures. “You all go! I got this!” The big man flashed a grin over his shoulder. “You all were holding me back anyway! I’m gonna go solo! Fuck off!” Landry whooped, and his entire body glowed in a purple aura before he launched himself at the giant demon.

His fist connected, and he began fighting the thing without a care for the damage he was taking, trying to push it back. Landry was strong, especially for his rank, but Jake knew the man wouldn’t survive longer than a few more minutes.

Main sent back a blade of air that didn’t connect with anything and shrieked, “No!”

“I always called him an asshole,” choked Brast. “The fucking asshole is a hero.” As they ran, she faltered, losing her composure. Jake stopped to help her, and a second after he did, a giant hand swept through the darkness where he otherwise would have been standing.

Miller wasn’t so lucky. The sharpshooter managed to get off a bolt from his crossbow right before he was torn apart. His projectile had been a fire bolt that sparked to life, the light traveling upward as something straightened, eventually providing illumination.

There were a few more large monsters now, and they all looked different from one another. None were as big as the knobby thing that Landry had stopped to hold off, but they were all at least seven feet tall, with big teeth and throbbing muscles. With a sinking feeling, Jake realized that these things really were demons, a type of infernal monster that was tougher than most others.

The creatures pounced. One grabbed hold of Brast as another took off Main’s arm at the elbow before delicately licking the blood.

Main screamed and frantically darted away, using her wind magic to gather speed. Most of the demons took off after her, hooting or growling in pleasure, and began fighting amongst each other, turning the chase into a savage game.

One came up from the dog pile with a leg in its mouth.

Jake used flash-step, zigging and zagging away from the monsters. But they were all fast, and even more were coming.

This was an entire world full of demons.

He managed to lop one’s head off before barely avoiding another with a flash-step, but tripped as he came down from the burst of speed.

Jake rolled across the alien ground, but spotted a large crack even as his world spun. Thinking quickly, he rolled faster before shimmying into the fissure. Once inside, he tried to get his breathing under control and stayed as still as he could.

He watched in horror as more shadows passed over his position, sometimes followed by screams. Everyone was dying. His companions. He was the last surviving member of the Grasshopper Mice.

Jake wanted to grieve, felt his heart breaking, but he just didn’t have time to deal with it yet.

His hiding place was cramped, but he managed to get glimpses of flashing light during magical explosions or increasingly rare gun fire. There was a small tunnel leading downward from his hiding place, barely big enough to squeeze through, and he finally screwed up his courage to take a chance. He forced himself through the hole in case one of the giants overhead happened to look down or smell him.

As it was, he’d been just in time, because a huge hand thrust into his former hiding place, poking around.

After that, there was no choice but to keep moving, crawling deeper into the ground before he finally found a cave large enough to lie down in. Then Jake finally allowed himself to grieve the loss of his friends. He cried himself to sleep, feeling depths of despair and guilt that he could have never even imagined before.

Chapter 4

Jake mechanically cupped his hand under the drip of water in the cave and patiently waited for at least a small pool to form before taking a drink. Then he repeated the process. He’d made this place his regular lair because of the water. Most of the other water in this world was visibly filthy or tainted. Drinking in this cave didn’t agree with his stomach and didn’t taste good, but hadn’t killed him yet either.

His clothes were rags now. He’d discarded his armor a while ago when it’d gotten damaged. And also when he’d realized he was making too much noise while wearing it. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in hell now. He wasn’t sure if this place was capital “H” hell, but it was at least a hell world.

There was no day or night, only twilight, and that was above ground. Jake had been surviving by living in the tunnels and caves that honeycombed the poison land, only moving to the surface to try getting his bearings. At one point, he’d seen a demon plodding along that had to have been at least a hundred feet tall.

The patch of Ohio that had been transported to this world when the locations swapped was still out there somewhere, but Jake had left it behind a long time ago. He’d taken a brief peek a while back and wished he hadn’t. There was some sort of temple being built there now by demons, and a few humans were somehow still alive. A couple had been nude, ravaged, nailed to crosses. Passing demons had been biting their feet, or eating their dead comrades in front of them.

Some of the other soldiers and adventurers who were still alive were being passed around as playthings. The sight had been horrible, even for someone who’d survived the Purple Rain on Earth and worked as an adventurer for years.

That had been a while back, however. Jake hoped for their sakes that they were dead now.

This place was awful. Everything was ugly, frightening, and evil—even the plants.

After taking another drink, Jake felt his stress beginning to rise again, so he sat in a lotus position and tried to meditate. As his mind calmed, he thought back to his first day or two in this world again. Back then, as much from habit as anything else, he’d tried to cultivate after his first day in hell and had gotten a shock.

There was no natural energy in hell.

He could feel power everywhere, in fact, the place was thick with it. What he considered “natural” energy—the essence he’d taken from nature and from the earth before that he could purify and internalize—either didn’t exist here, or he couldn’t feel it.

After many, many cultivation attempts, long meditation, and experiment, he’d learned something else, though. He’d figured out how to channel and cultivate the power of this hell world.

Sometimes when he thought about how much time he’d spent meditating, he wondered how long he’d actually lived here, and whether he was even sane anymore. All he knew was that he’d actually even somehow advanced in power. When he’d first come to this world, he was at the Copper Four level of the Body Refinement Stage. Now he was at the Sixth level.

Cultivators had historically been called immortals, and sometimes wizards or even gods. Refining natural energy, or other energies of nature was considered a way of defying the heavens by some. Others felt they were honoring the heavens.

Jake knew he was doing neither now. Instead of his skin getting clearer, it started forming red and black streaks. Bony growths were growing on his knuckles. As best he could tell, he was turning into something like a demonic cultivator. He wasn’t sure, since he’d only ever heard of them, and they still were described differently than he looked now.

All he knew was now he could see in the dark a whole lot better, and move nearly soundlessly through the tunnels. Plus, if he circulated the demonic energy he’d made part of his dantian, he could even evade mystical detection by patrolling demons.

He settled into his meditation position on the stony ground, reaching out around him, gathering the violent energy. If he had tried to pull it directly into his meridians, he probably would have killed himself. The power was too wild, too savage. Instead, he began kneading it, shaping it, softening it. This process always reminded him of videos he’d seen of people making taffy candy.

When the energy was pliable enough, he allowed it into his body—only a trickle at a time. Even with the small amounts he let in, the process of assimilating it was painful. All of this took many more times longer than cultivating back on Earth, and it hurt so badly that after each session, he had sweat rolling down his body and every muscle hurt. This was one reason he’d begun drinking water before cultivating as a sort of habit.

The sensation of refining the evil energy felt something like running barbed wire through his soul. At first, it had almost torn him apart, and he’d had to grip tightly onto who he was and knew himself to be. The process had scoured him raw, forcing him to face himself, and he had not come out of it unscathed.

Now he’d had to face all of his shortcomings, every way he’d failed his family, his team, himself, and even the world. Every dark place in his soul had been laid bare. It was much easier to process the energy now and it didn’t quite push him to insanity or feeling like he was going to lose his soul.

Strength was everything. His good intentions to help the world, to go willingly and shut down a budding s-tear had been foolish. While his heart had been in the right place, convictions with no power were useless.

Jake had been forced to face a truth he’d been tap dancing around ever since the Purple Rain event: if he wanted to be more than a passive observer, he needed to be strong.

There was no such thing as “strong enough.” He’d been proud of his advancement before, his achievements on Earth, but there had still been those better than him. Many, in fact. If he’d been one of the most powerful fighters on the planet, he probably could have at least saved his team, avoided being sucked into this evil place.

Jake slowly came out of his trance, and as usual, he was breathing heavily, teeth clenched, sweat running down his face. He was nearing a breakthrough into the Seventh level of the Copper Body Refinement Stage. Before he could move any further, he needed food, though.

His teacher had told him that if he ever made it to the Foundation Pillars stage of cultivation and kept cultivating, he wouldn’t need food anymore. That would be great if it were true, but right now, he was famished.

He reluctantly got up and began preparing for an outing. His saber had seen better days, but the steel was still mostly whole and sharp, mainly because Jake had been injecting his ki into it whenever he used it. He’d lost his pocket knife and many of his supplies during his many flights from demons tracking him through the caves. If it wasn’t for the natural chaos of this realm, and the random bursts of gas, fire, and sulfur, he was sure he would have been captured or killed long ago.

His cooking fires, small as they were, would have given him away for sure.

Finally, when he was almost ready to go, fresh rags wrapped around his knees and elbows, his meager tools in a satchel that held the makeshift canteen he’d made from a root, Jake prayed.

He’d been an agnostic before Purple Rain, and even after the world had changed and he’d seen proof of paladins and priests doing miracles, Jake still wasn’t sure what he believed. Part of him still didn’t really want to believe in big “G” god, and had a hard time doing so knowing that so many other gods were out there. But what he did believe in was goodness and decency, and he believed in the power of holy scriptures from around the world.

Jake had been raised in the church, so he’d been forced to memorize Christian text as a child. He never would have imagined he’d be grateful for it.

After kneeling on the ground, Jake put his hands on the hilt of his saber and put his forehead to the pommel. Then out loud, he said:

“You, Lord, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light.

With your help, I can advance against a troop;
with my God, I can scale a wall.”

As usual, pain immediately shot up his back, then down each of his limbs, making his fingers numb. It felt like white-hot blades were cutting him from the inside, proving that whatever he was cultivating did not mix with the scripture he was quoting from Psalm 18. Or maybe something, or someone, did not approve of the new power in his body.

Jake grinned. After the Purple Rain event when real life paladins had appeared, a lot of people with religious backgrounds had tried doing miracles. Jake had too, and nothing had happened. He knew he was not a righteous man with a pure heart, so none of this had exactly been surprising.

But in this place, living in hell, any reminder of the outside, or a different, better higher power was welcome, even if it hurt like a sonofabitch. He also liked being contrary. There wasn’t a better way to flip off this shithole than quoting Bible verses that seemed to make the air itself recoil.

It really did hurt, though. Too much would probably kill him. The only reason he could handle it was because his body and spirit had been strengthened through cultivation. Ironically, without any of the tainted energy he’d been assimilating, he wouldn’t feel any pain, but he also wouldn’t feel any evidence that there was more to the universe beyond this hell. The agony made him feel less alone.

If he were sane—and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was—it was because of his regular, painful prayer.

He lightly jumped down the hole in the floor of his little cave. Navigating the labyrinthine tunnels had been a lot harder before he’d figured out how to cultivate hellish energy. Now he could see just fine, and even circulate the dark power through his meridians to see even better and to blend in with his surroundings.

Jake moved through the complicated, contorted series of passages and cracks in the stone that made his little hideout somewhat secure before coming out into a large tunnel. He briefly bent to grab a handful of dirt and dust, then spit on it, and used the improvised mud to cover his saber’s blade. Light sources weren’t common in the tunnels, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Being careful had kept him alive so far. He didn’t have a real clear plan, just a vague but powerful urge to get stronger. Maybe if he grew strong enough, he could eventually topple the temple and destroy the world.

Jake mentally chuckled. Other than quoting scripture or hissing when it hurt him, he hadn’t made any noise in a very long time. He frowned at the thought, wishing he could track the time, but his watch was broken. His phone, too, stopped working after he’d first been transported.

He stalked forward slowly, carefully. There were demons in these tunnels, and they never seemed to tire of searching for him. He walked past sharp outcroppings and little holes in the wall that belched jets of flame. Leering faces were carved in the wall, or that looked like they’d been grown in the wall, appeared semi-regularly.

Whenever a tentacle creature or gaping mouth darted out of cracks in the floor or walls, Jake dodged and cut. He left nothing alive whenever he could help it, but sometimes he had to be stealthy.

It was common to come across bodies in this place. Sometimes the demons fought each other, and some even ate each other. If Jake came across any living demons in the tunnels, he usually tried to hide or slip by. Killing one or two always had the attached risk of bringing a horde down on him. He’d been chased several times, and so far, he’d gotten lucky.

Jake knew his luck would eventually run out unless he was careful, so he moved slowly, deliberately, gliding soundlessly past purple vines and vegetation that pulsed like it had its own heartbeat.

The area he was moving toward was actually relatively close to where he’d first been transported. He planned to stay deep below the surface, though. The tunnels were dangerous, but traveling on the surface would mean instant death.

Finally, Jake neared the area he’d been heading toward. Some time ago, while exploring and looking for anything edible, he’d encountered rooms of disgusting creatures that looked part monkey, part iguana, and part spider, ranging in size from a guinea pig to a small dog.

Since everything else in the tunnels were demons trying to eat his face, these cat-sized critters might have been gross, but Jake had been hungry. Ever since he’d killed his second monkey-thing, they had begun moving from hidden cave to hidden cave, migrating. Luckily, Jake’s enhanced senses made them possible to find through smell.

As soon as he darted into the chamber, one of them saw him and started squawking. Jake grinned and lunged forward, hitting the thing with the guard of his saber, then cracking its neck with his bare hand. He immediately left the cave since the things made so much noise. But as soon as he moved into the larger tunnel outside, prize in one hand, he immediately froze.

Something was wrong.

He could just barely hear the surviving creatures making sounds of distress back in the cave, and tuned his senses to exclude them. His mind was clear, almost in a meditative state as he remained absolutely motionless.

The second he heard a scuff on the stone in one direction of the tunnel, he darted the other way, using a flash step to immediately create distance. Behind him, an explosion rang off of the stone as baleful red magic erupted.

Demons had found him.

In front of him, a group of muscular demons in spiked armor crept forward, but they hadn’t quite advanced enough to block him all the way. Jake dropped his would-be dinner, springing sideways to dodge magical attacks, then flash-stepped forward to evade claws and a snapping set of teeth.

His saber spun in his hand, delivering cuts with energy-channeled fury. Jake leveled his other hand and pumped energy through all of his magic rings in sequence, delivering energy blasts and freezing energies into twisted bodies.

He flash-stepped again, trying to escape, and heard a hiss as he felt a flower of pain in his back. “Arghh!” he growled in agony. But he didn’t stop moving. Instead, he rounded a bend and ran for his life. Jake gingerly reached behind his back with his free hand, and hissed as his fingers burned. One of the demonic fuckers had gotten him with acid or something. This was bad.

The tunnels practically vibrated with screams and bellows as demons came out of cracks and through tunnels—horrible, nightmarish things that ran or slithered, or even flew forward. All focused on Jake.

He turned and shot fire down the tunnel behind him from a ring before turning on the speed again.

The situation was probably hopeless, but he still wasn’t ready to die yet. His stubborn streak, present since birth, had really bloomed in this place. A nasty grin stitched across his face and he wondered what was wrong with him. He should be scared, right? It would be difficult to explain what he was feeling, but it wasn’t fear.

If he ever survived living in hell, he doubted he’d ever be afraid again.

Chapter 5

Jake ran for an extraordinarily long time. He created enough distance to sometimes hide and circulate his ki. There was a limit to how many times he could do it, however. He not only got diminishing returns after a while, the ability also ate away at his body and soul. Cycling in the midst of the malevolent energy in this place was like drinking bleach at the best of times, but trying to do it quickly made it worse.

He was still alive, though.

The acid burns on his back were a problem. He’d gotten a few cuts too, but nothing major like the acid wound. At one point, a fire attack had taken some of his clothes and half his hair, but he could still see and still had his senses.

Eventually, he’d gotten so hungry while running that, when he came across another cave full of monkey things, he killed one and ate it raw while he kept moving. His ragged clothing was wet with blood down the front from his grisly meal. The food had helped, but his body was deteriorating and he knew it. Where the acid had hit his back earlier was still bleeding, and he could feel it eating into his bone and muscle. Only madly cycling his energy was still keeping him going.

Jake growled, frustrated that he had been chased for so long, not least of which because it was forcing him to admit he might be losing his mind. The way he was reacting to any of this was not normal, and probably not okay.

But he was tired of being hunted. They weren’t giving up.

He decided to stop fleeing.

After circling around, flanking through a side tunnel he’d actually been down before, he ran through another, wider tunnel he could flash-step through. He found himself in an intersection of three tunnels. Arriving right as a group of howling demons were beginning to cross.

Jake tore into them, and the demons began screaming.

This group had been bipedal, bestial, with one or two sets of arms and horns. Jake took heads and arms with his weapon, delivering savage, energy-empowered cuts. His sword was chipped and notched from all the abuse he’d put it through, but pumping angry energy into the steel kept it in one piece and glowing a sullen red.

He chuckled—like he was laughing at an unspoken and unthought joke—as he danced among the hell spawn. Jake was sure he was going to die anyway. It was freeing, in a way. He didn’t have to worry about how he fought. Just about cutting them down with brutal efficiency.

But he didn’t die. In fact, he cut down the entire squad of demons without taking a single scratch.

The last demon alive was gibbering on the ground, some sort of ugly goat-headed thing with blocky teeth. It held out a clawed hand that Jake dispassionately chopped off.

“You fucksticks invade my planet, take a mile or whatever of Ohio to this hellhole, crucify us, defile us, murder us, eat us… and now you want mercy? Fuck off.” Jake put the tip of his sword to the demon’s neck and pushed slowly. The creature’s eyes bulged, meeting Jake’s as it died.

It managed to let out a whisper with its last breath, and too late, Jake realized it’d been some sort of spell.

All the sounds of demons that had been moving away suddenly got louder.

“Great. Goat boy set off an alarm.” Jake spat on the dead demon and gave it a kick in the head. His foot hit the horn and the tip jabbed through his ragged boot, stabbing his toe. “God dammit!” he hissed, then laughed again.

He could feel the vibration of running feet in the ground. The dim shadows down one of the tunnels were beginning to move.

Jake took off running again.

Eventually, he was going to run out of energy or be hit again, but until then, he planned to stay alive as long as possible. Avoiding death and killing hell spawn was the last way he could throw his defiance at this world.

Maybe he could punish these fucks some more for killing his friends.

Jake cackled as he ran away and stopped caring how crazy he probably sounded.

* * *

Time had no meaning in the tunnels. Or above ground, for that matter.

Everything was always the same.

Jake’s existence became running, violence, and constant vigilance. He’d lost track of how many demons he’d killed and how many times he’d almost been killed.

But everything always eventually comes to an end. He’d somehow found himself in the last place he’d ever expected to be again.

There was only one direction to go. His tunnel was full of pursuing demons behind him, but he could see the cloudy crimson sky through the opening ahead.

“Fuck it,” he said, and put on a burst of speed.

His body was completely emaciated at this point. He’d been burning everything, and was probably losing muscle by the minute now. All that was keeping him going was a new technique he’d learned, a way to sip energy from the world around him as he circulated it. He could barely maintain his flight this way, but he was still losing power—small amounts of energy from his dantian, and larger amounts from his body.

Once outside the tunnel, he saw demons everywhere. Most of them seemed more shocked to see him than he was to see them. Strangely enough, some even ran away. Jake sprinted and flash-stepped away from the largest group of them, directly between rotting human bodies on crosses. He went up the steps and into the temple that the demons had been building.

The building was actually fairly tall, and Jake ran up so many flights of stairs, he started to feel lightheaded despite the mystical energy empowering him. When he reached the top, he tripped and fell, rolling forward as evil magic flashed over his head. He laughed as he realized that he’d somehow escaped death yet again, and sprang up, flash-stepping forward to deliver a savage cut to a very surprised-looking demon in a robe.

“I tripped. I tripped. Fuck you, you ugly sonofabitch, I tripped,” he sang. He could hear thundering footsteps as demons followed him up the stairs. There was no doubt in his mind that the more powerful demons and the giants were on their way too.

He was screwed.

This was the end of the line.

Jake looked around and realized that he was in the highest room of the temple. The very top. There was an altar to one side, and on a stone pedestal in the middle stood a pillar so dark, it seemed to be the absence of light.

On top of that was a crystal that pulsed purple with red streaks.

It was whispering at him.

A part of Jake was mesmerized by the stone, but a large part of him was more wild animal than man now.

“This seems like as good of a time as any to use that ability,” he said. When his teacher had taught him to cultivate years ago, the man had given him a scroll, irritated that it was the only one he’d had. Jake had instantly memorized the ability as the scroll faded. He had never dared to use it before.

Three Winds Northern Lights Fist was actually a Core Refinement ability. Even Foundation Pillars stage experts would take damage from an attempt to use it, but to a Body Refinement cultivator like Jake, it could be catastrophic. And besides, it was an attack he’d only be able to use once. It didn’t belong to him, was an imprint…or something. His Master hadn’t exactly explained it well.

At this point, he didn’t care.

Jake gathered every bit of energy he had left and chambered one hand on his hip. After taking two slow breaths, Jake twisted his energy in an unfamiliar way, making it spin, then pushing it forward in a very complex, and incredibly detailed pattern.

“Three Winds Northern Lights Fist!” he screamed. “And fuck this crystal thing in particular!”

The attack shot out like a burst of hot plasma. It connected with the crystal, making a deep gonging sound.

At first, nothing happened. But after a few seconds, cracks began to show in the crystal.

“Three Winds Northern Lights Fist,” muttered Jake. “I always wanted to try it.”

He staggered. Then he coughed up blood. The veins on his arms and legs simultaneously exploded, and he collapsed to the stony floor.

Jake turned his head so he could watch the crystal. More cracks were forming. Even though his meridians had burst along with what was left of his withered veins, he could feel pressure building in the crystal.

This was going to be bad for all the demons in this place.

He smiled.

“Seriously, fuck this place,” he sighed.

Everything went red.

* * *

The next thing Jake knew, he was sitting in a white leather chair, dressed in a suit, and another man was sitting across a mahogany table, nursing a drink.

Jake took a moment to remember his final moments before death and looked around wildly, seeing only empty white space in every direction. He tried to cycle his ki, but nothing happened. Instead of panicking, he forced himself to calm down, think logically, and remember his magical training from before he had become a cultivator.

“Excuse me, is this a pocket dimension?” he asked.

“Something like that,” said the other man with a smile. The stranger was so handsome that even Jake could tell. He was clean shaven, wore an easy smile, and had wavy hair. Jake’s suit was black, but the other man’s suit was white. A purple stone with red and black streaks topped a cane loosely held in the man’s non-drink hand, and Jake recognized the color of the crystal.

“Ah,” Jake said out loud. He still didn’t entirely know what was going on, but the man’s stone looking the same as the crystal that Jake had blown up must be connected.

It felt good to have his mind working again. He felt completely sane now—changed, but sane.

The man nodded indulgently, lifting his cane a hair and letting it drop. “Yes, your mind works fast! Very good, very good.” He took a sip from his glass. “Would you like something to drink?”

A wet bar appeared out of nowhere next to Jake, who eyed it skeptically.

His intuition was telling him to tread carefully, and his old magic training asserted itself. In old books and movies, plucky heroes would talk to powerful beings casually or even disrespectfully. Jake might have been crazy for a while, but he was not stupid. Being unnecessarily rude to extremely powerful supernatural beings was usually a bad idea unless you were really, really sure that you held all the cards. Even if they couldn’t directly affect you, they tended not to forget a slight and held long grudges.

“May I ask your name?”

The man smiled, showing perfect teeth and bright eyes that any old Hollywood actor would kill for. “You may.” That was all he said. He got up to refill his glass, sat back down, and stared at Jake.

Jake stared back.

Being polite was important, but so was showing strength. Displaying weakness was not a good way to be taken seriously by the strong.

It took a while for Jake to puzzle out that the stranger likely hadn’t answered him because Jake hadn’t properly responded to the offer for a drink. He coughed and said, “Excuse my late reply. Thank you for your offer, but I would prefer not to get a drink.”

The man nodded. “You really might want to try some. As you may have gathered, this is not a normal place, and those are not normal drinks.”

Jake smiled neutrally and inclined his head. “Even so, I would like to respectfully decline right now.”

“Have it your way, Jacob Hessian Mazzariello.” The man stirred his drink with a finger. “You’re dead. You know that, right?”

“I figured so, yes.”

“You seem to be taking all of this rather calmly.”

“I suppose so.” Jake decided to be honest. “Although I wish I had a weapon.”

The man laughed. “I am not surprised.” He took a swig of his amber-colored drink and said, “You have given me quite a bit of trouble. In fact, I have been thinking about flaying your soul for eternity, visiting you with every agony ever invented.”

Jake swallowed audibly. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It wouldn’t be.” The well-dressed stranger touched the stone at the end of his cane and said, “Do you know what it was that you destroyed? Of course you don’t. That was a silly question.” He sighed dramatically. “It was a focal stone, where I was gathering all the resources from that entire world. One of the only reasons we are having this chat is because the situation was so strange that a few unique requirements were met and I am allowed a repeat.”

Jake didn’t say anything. This man was definitely not a man, and had to be a very powerful supernatural being. Jake was trying hard not to think about worst-case scenarios and the g-word. But either way, this entity had to know that Jake wouldn’t understand what was going on. The best course of action for the moment was to shut his mouth and listen.

The man continued. “You were in my realm. Did you know that my children were calling you Judgment? The closest translation for you would be…” He paused to think for a second. “The boogie man. Imagine what the situation seemed like to them. A lone alien, a human, was living in their birthing tunnels beneath a new temple, in what should have been one of the safest places on the entire world. They searched but couldn’t find you, all while you randomly hunted them and ate their children.”

Jake blinked and couldn’t help himself from asking, “Children?”

“Yes, Jake, you were eating the babies of a few species of demons.” The man smiled without humor. “And you were leaving piles of entrails all throughout the tunnels that my worshippers were interpreting as a challenge and curse.”

“Oh.”

“Then you led them on a chase for over a week after they ambushed you, somehow learning how to use the power of my realm against me, and through some bizarre twist of fate, slipped past all the defenses for my new temple, killed my distracted priest, and destroyed a focal stone.”

The man in the white suit stared for a moment, face blank, but suddenly stood and screamed in pure rage. All the white space in the distance rippled and the man’s voice shook the air. Even though the energy and pure malevolence of the tantrum didn’t directly touch Jake, just the presence of it was enough to shake him to his core. The man flung his drink to the ground, where it shattered and disappeared.

As quickly as the outburst came, it stopped. The man composed himself, sat down elegantly, crossed his legs, and calmly said, “You may ask what I am called.”

Jake worked to keep his sudden fear in check. “May I please ask what you are called?”

“I have had many names, but you would probably best know me by the name Ahriman.”

Jake slowly nodded. No supernatural entity but the real Ahriman would claim that name. He was face to face with a god. Inside, his instincts were screaming at him that he was in terrible danger, but he forced himself to stay calm. “What may I call you directly? To clarify, what would be an appropriate way for me to address you?” he asked. He’d almost asked what Ahriman wanted to be called, but that would have been a mistake.

The god grinned and his eyes flashed dark for a second. “You are smart, Jake. Maybe a little too smart for your own good. You may just call me by my name for now.”

“I understand, Ahriman.”

“Jake, I’ve looked into your soul. You see, you are a mystery. The sheer number of coincidences necessary for you to do what you did is staggering. On top of that, through ignorance, you somehow went about offending me in almost every possible way. Why in the world would you recite Bible verses in my realm? I’ve looked through past events. Doing what you did caused you pain, but you did it anyway. Incredible.”

“Thank you,” said Jake politely. He kept all sarcasm out of his voice.

Ahriman kept speaking. “Then there’s the perfect storm necessary for you to escape for so long, even thrive in a way. You see, my children didn’t know you were even still alive for a long time. Nobody took a count!” Ahriman laughed. “My most powerful children were elsewhere except for enforcers and giants. Somehow, a low-ranked adventurer from the newly rediscovered Earth—a weak cultivator without any particular talent—managed to evade death or capture, all while carrying out a psychologically damaging guerilla campaign against demons. Demons.” He shook his head. “Perhaps I should thank you. I won’t be allowing anything like that to ever happen again!

“But again, I’ve researched you thoroughly, including some of your greatest regrets, biggest triumphs, and darkest secrets. Remember how I mentioned a repeat?”

“Yes, Ahriman,” Jake answered. He’d almost only nodded, but didn’t want to give the evil god any excuse to do something unpleasant. All of his magical studies had agreed that the oldest, most powerful beings were all sticklers for rules.

Humanity hadn’t known for sure that gods or beings that could be called gods existed until Purple Rain. After that, humanity learned the rules of the larger universe ASAP.

“I have a very rare opportunity to reverse time, or rather, start a new timeline that will become dominant. Think about that for a moment.” He grinned. “And the mystical event that would be best to reset the timeline to would be what you call Purple Rain. I know your wish, to save your parents, your sister. They were murdered soon after Purple Rain, right?”

If Jake had been breathing, he would have held his breath.

The god had him there.

“Do you know why I am appearing to you like this instead of something else?”

“Do you mean like something evil, Ahriman?”

The god scoffed. “Evil. That word is meaningless. What is ‘evil?’ It’s just a label, usually given to free thinkers and independents with power of their own. Do you know what my greatest sin is, at least in the eyes of my enemies? I refused to bow to a fussy group of self-proclaimed rule makers with no greater authority to dictate reality than I have.

“I chose this form because, if I were a dragon, or a demon, you wouldn’t be fazed, and would likely just mistrust me more. This visit is not to frighten you, Jake. I want to recruit you.”

Jake definitely had not expected this, and was so surprised, he just said, “What?”

If Ahriman took offense, he didn’t show it. Instead, the god spread his hands, and one had a drink dangled between his fingers again. “You can go back to the Purple Rain, save your family, maybe even save your world!”

“And what would the price for that be, Ahriman?”

“So suspicious! I would like you to be my soldier, my warrior. You have always admired paladins, right? You could be a dark paladin, unfettered by the conventions and silly rules of others! I would back your every action that was made in my name.”

Jake crossed his arms. “May I ask a serious question?”

“Of course. This is a negotiation. You may speak freely.”

“What about my soul?”

“Really?” Ahriman took a drink from his glass and it disappeared. “Your soul? What has your soul ever done for you? You were rejected by the god of your childhood while in my realm, weren’t you?”

Jake frowned. “I’m going to take that to mean that my soul would be part of the cost.” Ahriman just looked at him and rolled his eyes, but Jake wasn’t cowed. “I’ve read or heard someone in a similar situation say if a soul has so little value, nobody would bargain so hard to attain one. This seems like solid logic to me.”

“Souls and paladins go hand in hand,” Ahriman said, flipping a hand. “A paladin is a champion.”

“So, if I agree to this deal, I will be your warrior, give up my soul, and I’m assuming you will physically move the position I was at when Purple Rain happened the first time, right? I was too far away to save my family last time.”

“Yes.”

“Where will I be, then? Physically, I mean.”

“In the same state and same city as your parents.”

Jake thought fast. “This is a difficult decision, so may I ask for a boon?” He used the archaic term from his magical studies.

Ahriman narrowed his eyes, and that one gesture allowed Jake to know the god couldn’t read his mind. If he could, Ahriman would likely be furious. “A favor for nothing in return? That is a rather bold thing to ask of a god, especially one you were willing to label ‘evil’ earlier.”

Jake nodded. “I promise that I will give this matter my very serious consideration if you agree to this boon. If you agree, I will know within three more questions whether I can be your warrior.” Supernatural entities loved sets of three too.

Ahriman gestured with his disappearing and reappearing drink. “The favor must be within my power, and must be reasonable.”

“Reasonable meaning what? That seems open to interpretation. How about if the favor I ask is something I could do, you will agree to it.”

Ahriman smiled widely. “Agreed.”

Gotcha! Jake thought. He focused on not letting his face so much as twitch. “The favor I would like to ask, that you agreed to if it is something I could do… is to tell the truth.”

The dark god’s smile slowly fell, and Jake worked even harder to keep his face blank. It was one thing to trick an evil god, and another entirely to gloat about it. Ahriman had doubtlessly thought that Jake being dead, with no body and no power, had been a loophole to refuse the favor.

But truth required no power, only honesty.

“Granted,” the god said. His clear green eyes began to glow red and he tapped his cane impatiently. “Be careful what you ask, Jake. Some truths can be more dangerous than others.”

“Oh, I know that, Ahriman. I promise that I do not plan to ask anything disrespectful or irrelevant to this conversation.” Jake’s magical training in the past had made it clear that this was wise. Knowledge could be dangerous. “To recap, you have agreed to this boon for me, and I have stated that I would make my decision after three questions.”

Ahriman didn’t reply, so Jake asked his first question. “Are you able to directly harm me?” This was something he’d been wondering for a while, and had been doubting ever since the subject of his soul had come up.

“No,” grated the well-dressed god.

Jake nodded and thought carefully about his second question. Now was not the time to ponder why he was at least temporarily safe. He needed to think of his next question, to choose it, actually. He’d already thought of all the questions he would ask in response to how the god replied.

Without being trained as a mage prior to becoming a cultivator, he would have never thought to ask his next question, but now he was fairly sure of the reason he was having this conversation in the first place.

He asked, “Regardless of how time is or was reset, since I was directly involved in the events leading up to it, will I keep my memories even if I do not accept your offer?”

Ahriman’s appearance began to change. “Not anything disrespectful, eh? Ha. I have not been this disrespected by a mortal in millennia.”

Jake didn’t say anything in response. He just waited patiently for a direct reply. The answer to this question was incredibly important. Little clues throughout this conversation had made him suspicious about Ahriman’s claims.

Finally, Ahriman snarled. “Yes. It was your meddling that caused the event, and you are directly tied to it. You will keep your memories.”

Jake nodded. “So, what you are really offering, in general, is to change my physical location during the Purple Rain event that happened in the past, correct?”

Ahriman shifted into a fully demonic in appearance, with great curving horns, fiery eyes, and three tongues. His appearance just kept getting more terrifying, but Jake had lived in hell, apparently for weeks. It took a lot more than what he was seeing to faze him anymore.

“YES!” bellowed the god.

Jake stood and bowed, then formally said, “Ahriman, I reject your offer. Thank you for this discussion and the opportunity.”

Ahriman shrieked and reached for Jake, but even though his claws came within a hair of him, they never actually touched. Tentacles erupted from the dark god, covering the entire horizon. Horrible sounds and smells assaulted Jake, but he was mostly unaffected. In the politest tone of voice he could manage, he said, “Ahriman, you have told me that you may not harm me. Since harm is open to interpretation, I am respectfully informing you that I find our current interaction stressful and harmful.”

The world trembled as Ahriman screamed, and Jake tumbled into darkness. In one ear, he heard a hissing whisper. “Curse you, Jacob Hessian Mazzariello. You will regret this rejection! I have seen your heart. Now you will know true anguish. Your cries and the gnashing of your teeth will be music to my ears! I will never forget this.”

* * *

Jake opened his eyes, and felt a second of pure joy at the feeling of being alive again. He’d never really noticed it before. But now that he knew what it felt to be dead, being alive was something he couldn’t explain but cherished all the same.

He was standing in the middle of the street, and people were running around.

Surrounding sounds faded into a muted blur as he noticed he was wet. And just getting wetter.

Jake frowned and glanced up at the sky.

The clouds were violet.

He immediately understood what was happening. “Oh great,” he muttered.

This was Purple Rain and he was out in the open. He remembered what Ahriman had said about being able to control his physical location and sighed.

Jake had been clever, but not clever enough. No Bible verses were going to save him from this either.

“Shit.”

Chapter 6

He’d witnessed people turning into zombies before, so Jake immediately knew what was happening to him. His fingers hurt. He felt hot, feverish, and wanted to lie down. With a heavy heart, he ignored all the screams of frightened people around him, pausing only as he passed a construction worksite to grab a pipe and smash a new, weak zombie as it attacked a middle-aged woman.

This sucks, he thought.

As he walked down the street, barely noticing people turning into monsters, or the hungry dead rising, he wondered what the most responsible thing to do would be. At least I still have my soul.

Out loud, he quoted the book of James from the Bible. “‘Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’” Then he chuckled. “Yeah, that didn’t happen, did it?”

At least he wasn’t getting burned by quoting scripture now. Of course, this likely couldn’t last long since he was not a cultivator anymore. He wasn’t an anything. In this moment, he was a regular man in jeans and a hoodie, about to become a zombie. When he became a zombie, he wouldn’t have the ability to speak at all, but if he could, he had a suspicion that quoting holy texts would probably destroy him.

A single tear leaked down Jake’s cheek. He didn’t have any real regrets, just frustration at the injustice of the universe.

After one had brained the newly risen zombie, all the surviving construction workers ran away.

Had the rain stopped? It seemed like it. Maybe some of them would survive.

Jake made his way into the construction site, most of which was unfinished with exposed rebar jutting from cured concrete. At least it had a roof.

He found a length of chain and a padlock complete with a key. Jake wrapped the chain tightly around his waist, then lashed himself to some concrete and rebar before closing the lock and dropping the key.

His skin was burning up now, and the fever was even making his eyes hot.

This really sucks, he thought.

“Maybe I should try praying. Couldn’t hurt, right?” He’d considered himself a knowledgeable man before, but meeting Ahriman had really expanded his horizons. Now he was willing to try things he might have written off before as foolish.

He cleared his throat and said, “Any gods out there that might be listening, my soul will never be part of any bargain, but I’m apparently an enemy of Ahriman now. If you have an axe to grind with him, maybe I can do you a favor. My offer is simple: give me help, perhaps advice, and if I think it’s a reasonable exchange, I will owe you a favor.”

Jake laughed after that. He really doubted anything would come of his little half-assed prayer, but putting it together had been better than just waiting to die.

He began to choke on his own tongue. Panted as the fever got worse.

It grew harder to breathe.

Not long after that, he puked. It was mostly just frothy white stuff.

Jake died for the second time, chained to a concrete pillar.

* * *

He woke up feeling strange. His vision was terrible and his thoughts were slow, like he was trying to think through jelly. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ was what he tried to say, but all that came out was “Ahhhh.”

After experimentally moving his mouth a few times and waving a hand in front of his face, Jake accepted his reality. He truly had turned into a zombie. But he was still himself. He knew who he was and hadn’t lost his will.

Now he understood what Ahriman had meant about punishment.

‘Why the fuck does this shit keep happening to me?’ he tried to say. Instead, he just managed to moan.

His motions were jerky, and just getting worse the longer he was dead. Fine motor controls would soon be a thing of the past, but he barely managed to bend over far enough to pick up the key to the padlock and unlock himself from his would-be concrete restraint.

He managed to walk forward, and keeping his balance was difficult. No wonder so many zombies crawl or stumble around and sometimes hold walls, he thought. Despair was growing, but he was trying to ignore it.

As he walked through the construction site as a newly undead, he passed the zombie he’d killed earlier and tried to shake his head. As he was now, he doubted he could even kill another zombie. What could he do, chew on one’s arm? It wasn’t like they were alive, so even if he bit an enemy zombie’s neck, it wouldn’t feel a thing. As a zombie, he was strong, but he couldn’t move fast. In about ten more minutes, he likely wouldn’t be coordinated enough to hit the broad side of the barn with a machine gun if he could even keep it pointed in the right direction.

Suddenly, a black cat on top of a fence caught his attention. He turned and stared as the cat stared right back. “It’s about time you noticed me,” it said.

Jake was far less surprised than he probably should have been. He tried to say, ‘Not my fault, my eyes suck now.’ Instead, he just gurgled.

He couldn’t tell if the cat understood. It said, “Your prayer has been heard, but limited assistance can be given. Think about Ahriman’s domain, and ask yourself how many magic stones you saw during your time there.”

Zombie-Jake watched the cat scamper off as best he could. Well, I guess I got help, but it was kind of useless too.

This sucks.

* * *

The first thing Zombie-Jake did was get the hell out of the town he’d been in. Right after Purple Rain in his first life, it’d taken people a while to figure out what was going on, but getting brained by some kid with a hockey stick who was quick on the uptake might still be a possibility. Luckily, he was on a hill in town and could see around the area pretty well, but his sight was fading as fast as his motor skills.

Since zombies didn’t need to breathe, Jake moved directly for a lake. He crossed a forest, then a quiet road and mentally cursed when a fence stopped him in his tracks.

There was no way he could climb a fence as a zombie. Moving his body felt like driving an unfamiliar car with two flats, a broken transmission, and an overweight trailer.

After wandering around, he found a gate through the fence to a park beyond that butted up to the lake. Then he wasted no time, wading in as fast as his dead legs would carry him. He began to relax after he was under the surface. Jake moved slowly, but safely, to the other side where he thought he’d seen mostly trees with a handful of scattered buildings.

Walking underwater was slow and difficult, but as a zombie, he had no air in his lungs, and he’d actually gotten heavier after his transformation. He’d lose weight as he rotted more, but for right now, he could barely stay on the bottom of the lake.

Plodding through the darkness gave him some time to think, which he needed since his mind was working so slowly. He used a trick he’d learned before Purple Rain and made a mental to-do list.

His first priority was to figure out where he was. Next, he had to find a way to let people know he wasn’t a monster. He also needed to puzzle through what the cat had told him, and what or who the cat was. Lastly, but probably most important, he needed to figure out a way to save his family.

Everything else he planned to do was a means to that end.

When he finally emerged from the lake on the other shore, he was shocked to realize that half a day had passed. Now it was night, close to the next morning, which meant that a lot of people had died by now.

Despair welled up again, but he beat it down. If living in hell wasn’t going to break him, this wouldn’t either. Ahriman could eat a dick.

There was a building nearby—maybe a bait shack. The maybe-bait shack turned out to be gas station that also sold fishing gear, and when Jake saw the door was open, he already knew what he’d likely find.

Inside, an old man was dead on the floor, being gnawed on by two zombies that were covered in blood. They looked up with blank expressions but bent back to the grisly meal after only a slight hesitation.

The sight of the corpse stirred something in Jake. Something he refused to acknowledge. There were some lines he declined to cross. Luckily, he spotted a cell phone on the counter by the register and avoided the body. The landline was useless—he couldn’t talk.

Jake picked up the phone and tried to swipe it awake, but nothing was working. His mind worked really slowly, so he stared at the nonfunctioning tech for a while before he realized the obvious reason that he couldn’t use it: he was dead. Dead fingers couldn’t use phones, at least he decided this was likely the case.

Well, shit, he thought.

He glanced around the half-assed convenience store, now a mess from either the zombies or the soon-to-be zombie crashing around earlier. Jake looked around behind the counter but couldn’t find anything useful. A locked door likely led to the manager’s office, but he had no way to open it. As he briefly looked for a key, the sloppy eating sounds of the other zombies were annoying him, so he decided to do something about it.

After moving back outside, he glanced around to make sure nobody else was nearby. The old stubbornness he’d perfected in hell had come back. He refused to give in, even if he was already technically dead.

The area he was in was actually fairly empty of people. It seemed the lake had been large, and it looked like most civilization was on the other side. The zombies inside the gas station had likely been turned right after Purple Rain, killed the gas station worker, and nobody had come here since then, which was not hard to believe. Jake remembered most survivors hiding at home for a few days after the first Purple Rain.

He found a car with a door open in the parking lot. Jake decided it must have been how the two feasting zombies had gotten here when they’d still been alive.

The keys were still in the ignition.

Jake tried to smile, but when his face just kind of twitched in random directions, he gave up.

His control of his limbs and fingers was awful, but luckily, the car was already more or less where he needed it to be. After starting the engine, he backed up as carefully as he could. He still almost managed to ram into a pump. Going forward was going to be a lot easier, though. He couldn’t really feel much through his limbs anymore, so he carefully watched to make sure his foot was in the right place before he gave the car all the gas he could and drove it into the front of the gas station at full speed.

The glass storefront exploded. Bags of chips and packs of crackers flew everywhere. The car surged up one when it went over the curb, and again after going through the store before slamming into the rear wall of the gas station.

Jake was already dead so it didn’t hurt, but he moaned in frustration when he noticed a big shard of glass sticking out of his arm.

He was already taking damage. This wasn’t good.

Jake slowly, deliberately got out of the car and made the closest thing to a grin he could when he realized that he’d actually killed one of the zombies. The other one was pinned under one of the car’s tires. He noticed the remaining zombie had been a young man before turning, probably out joy riding with a friend.

The world was cruel.

Curious, Jake got closer to the other zombie, right out of reach. When he was just about to enter the range of the pinned monster’s arms, it seemed to finally become interested in him and lunged, grabbing at the air.

Much like during his conversation with Ahriman, Jake was gathering information to understand his situation better. He likely still had a human soul since he had refused to give it away, and he could think somewhat clearly. At least something about him was still human enough that the zombie had tried to attack him when he’d gotten close enough. Good to know.

The corpse of the gas station manager was under the car, so Jake was spared seeing it again. Instead, he headed to the wall the car had hit, and moaned in appreciation to see it’d knocked a hole leading into the manager’s office. He could barely climb through and began to poke around.

In the bottom drawer of the manager’s desk, he hit pay dirt. A subcompact .40 S&W Springfield would not be his first choice of pistol, but it was better than nothing. It took him a few tries, but he managed to drop the magazine and make sure the gun was clear before holding it up.

Wow, he thought. This is even worse than I imagined.

There was no way he was going to hit anything with the pistol, especially like he could before he became a zombie. Fine motor skills and staying steady just weren’t what zombies were known for, and Jake was no exception.

He moaned thoughtfully and loaded the gun, and then tried to load a round. When it proved too difficult for his fumbling, dead hands, he pushed the front of the pistol against the desk, using his weight to push the slide back, then released it.

That done, he pocketed the second loaded magazine he’d found and wandered back out to the car. The vehicle was smoking now, and obviously wouldn’t work. Jake stayed far enough away for the zombie under the wheel to mostly ignore him as it futilely scrabbled at the ground.

Jake got a sudden flash of inspiration that moved slowly through his dead brain. He decided to act on it. Moving to the other side of the car, Jake climbed on the hood. He shimmied over until he could hang his head off.

This close, the natural zombie began freaking out, moaning and trying to turn around. Jake slowly, calmly lowered his acquired pistol, putting the muzzle close to the back of the zombie’s head, and pulled the trigger.

With his weapon that close, missing had been very unlikely.

The shot struck home more or less where he’d intended it to, killing the pinned zombie. Unfortunately, zombie-Jake hadn’t been expecting the recoil to mess with him so badly. All the little muscles that he took for granted when he was alive didn’t work automatically anymore. He almost slid off the car after the shot. As he barely steadied himself, he vowed to keep it in mind the next time he shot a firearm.

Jake slowly moved back until he was off the car and walked back over to the other side to inspect his handiwork. To his surprise, as he got close, a light flashed and a magic stone was pushed out of the zombie’s body. The stone—called a “core” by adventurers in the future—fell to the ground.

If he were an adventurer, this would have been a very lucky find. Magic stones could power magic tech or help sorcerers and other mystic practitioners.

Jake was a monster now, however. Monsters didn’t bargain.

If monsters found magic stones, they usually ate them.

Jake picked up the magic stone and thought about what the cat had told him. Why had the zombie dropped a magic stone? He killed hundreds of demons in Ahriman’s world but he’d never seen a single one. Was that what the cat was talking about?

The mystery intrigued Jake’s mage-trained mind. But it took him a while to even think through walking anymore, much less magical mysteries.

Whoever had sent the cat, it wouldn’t have mentioned magic stones if they weren’t important. But maybe it had been talking about the big crystal thing he’d broken. He hoped not. Seeing one of those things again was unlikely at best.

Maybe he could figure it out.

In the meantime, he needed to find a way to use his acquired phone to figure out where he was, and find some more magic stones. Monsters could transform, and eating magic stones had something to do with that, right? Turning into anything else had to be better than a zombie.

When Jake tripped over a curb and fell, breaking his dead nose, it seemed proof the universe had a really fucked-up sense of humor. He got up and dusted himself off as best he could, then tucked his new pistol into the top of his jeans and covered it with his shirt. Nobody would expect a zombie to be carrying a pistol.

His luck was really terrible. Why did Purple Rain have to happen during one of the tiny handful of times a year that Jake hadn’t had his own phone with him? He’d just been running an errand that day, going to get something to eat.

Even if he found a way to use the stranger’s phone he’d found, he wasn’t sure if it was password protected, or locked some other way. Well, if it is, I’ll find another phone, he thought.

That made sense, so he agreed with himself.

Fifteen minutes later, when he was too far to turn back and return, he realized all the other ways he might have been able to discover his location while he’d still been in the gas station. His zombie brain was really slowing him down.

Whether they were what the cat had talked about or not, he definitely needed to find more magic stones.

There was no way he was going to ever save his family if he stayed a zombie.

Chapter 7

Jake was starting to get hungry. Which was a problem. When he passed a freshly dead deer on the side of the road, he got a feeling like his mouth was watering. Of course, being dead, he couldn’t actually be hungry, and his mouth was likely not watering, so he quickly understood the way things were heading.

Apparently, undead hunger was part of his new existence. Great.

As he walk-shuffled, he noticed some proof that some people in this area weren’t hiding at home. Someone would have had to be out and about to run over a deer, for instance.

Then about an hour later, he got more concrete proof that people were out. Someone shot him.

One minute he was peacefully walking down the street, trying his best just to think, and the next he had a hole in his stomach. He didn’t feel any pain, and his undead senses took a second or two to register the blast, but it’d definitely been a gunshot. Lights cut on in the distance, and an engine revved to life.

Someone had either figured out what was going on since Purple Rain, or were psychos. Jake didn’t want to take a chance on either.

He desperately moved to the shoreline, and as vehicles sped toward him. Jake ungracefully dumped himself forward, falling into the water and crawling forward as fast as he could. Behind him, he could barely hear a muffled “did it just run away!?” Concussions echoed through the water, likely people shooting after him. But he wasn’t too worried. Bullets really didn’t work very well after being shot into water, and he was already a few feet deep.

After descending a few feet farther, he paused to look back. The rising sun gave him some light to see by, and he could definitely spot the silhouettes of the people who’d just taken shots at him. It looked like there were two trucks, and one had a light bar on top. Jake guessed these were good ol’ boys from the area who had gotten the right idea from horror movies, but had executed really, really badly—luckily for Jake.

The men with rifles were unlucky, though. Jake spotted new silhouettes behind them.

Oh shit, he thought. There wasn’t time to warn the men even if he knew how. Even with his foggy undead eyes, he was able to see the shadows fall on the men with guns.

He cautiously moved up the bank, slowly letting his head break the surface of the lake so he could see better, and his fears were confirmed. Two ghouls had already killed and begun eating the humans—one had fallen on the occupants of each truck. There’d been two men in one truck, and two in the other. The shooting had likely attracted the ghouls.

Jake remembered how the zombies had only freaked out earlier when he’d gotten too close, and gave both ghouls a wide berth as he left the lake. They both glanced up, paused, then went back to their grisly meals.

The trucks were still running. Jake carefully bent down to pick up a rifle, some sort of cheap AR-15, and climbed into one of the vehicles as best he could. He didn’t relax until the doors were closed and locked. The glass wouldn’t stop a ghoul for long, but it might prevent them from sensing he was anything more than just a zombie.

He looked out the windshield at one ghoul that was busy snacking on a hand, and if he’d still been alive, he would have shuddered. Ghouls were lower-class monsters, and the Purple Rain had created some, but they were far more dangerous than zombies. For one, they moved a hell of a lot faster, and while not exactly intelligent, they could be crafty. These two working together was an example of how devious they could be.

Both monsters were both sort of shaped like people, but with greyish leathery skin, no nose, big teeth, and long, clawed fingers.

If Jake hadn’t spent so long among real demons, he might have said they looked demonic.

As Jake searched the inside of the truck for weapons, he wondered if he could do something about the two creatures eating men they’d just killed. It didn’t sit right with him to leave these monsters running around to kill more people. He’d have to think about the problem a long time to allow his dead zombie brain to catch up.

No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out a way to kill both of them. Even if he somehow managed to kill one with either his truck or his pistol, or even the rifle he’d picked up, the other one would be triggered to attack. Ghouls weren’t very smart, but they had at least animal intelligence. They were also mean and strong. The truck wouldn’t be much protection if one wanted to get in, much less two, and there was no guarantee he’d be able to take one out if he initiated an attack. Being a zombie was pretty much awful for doing anything.

‘Maybe I can still give it a shot,’ he tried to mutter, but it came out as a low moan.

Jake tried to draw his pistol as stealthily as he could—the rifle would be too long to realistically use in the truck, and he wasn’t sure if he could operate the controls very well as he was. While he moved around, he caught sight of two smart phones where the previous driver and passenger had left them. With a shrug, Jake pocketed them, or at least tried to. He didn’t have the dexterity to put them in his actual pockets while sitting down, so he stuffed them down the front of his pants. The phones were held in place against his undead kibbles-and-bits, by his underwear.

‘Seriously, fuck Ahriman,’ he growl-moaned. Since he was likely going to be driving soon and didn’t have the greatest control behind the wheel, he made sure to put his seatbelt on. But then as Jake was trying to figure out which of the ghouls to attack, the decision was taken out of his hands. The passenger side window shattered as gunshots rang out somewhere behind him. The sound of marbles landing on a tin roof let Jake know that other bullets he couldn’t see were hitting his borrowed truck.

What the hell? he thought. A glance in his mirrors didn’t reveal much besides muzzle flashes, but he could figure out what was likely happening. The men who’d just been killed had friends who’d gone looking for them.

Jake moaned in frustration and fear, jerkily putting his foot on the brake to put the vehicle in drive. At the same time that he hit the gas, one of the ghouls took off toward where the gunfire had come from. The other swiveled its head as he tore past, and to his horror, he vaulted up into the bed of the truck.

‘Fuck!’ he tried to growl. Zombie eyes were terrible, so as he barreled down the road, he had to keep correcting the wheel as best he could, all while bullets peppered the truck, and the ghoul slammed a clawed hand through the back window. ‘Fuck!’

It was hard to tell how many times Jake had been shot so far. But he was still undead, and his brain was still intact. It likely wouldn’t be for long the way things were going, though. Jake yanked the wheel to the left, gunning the engine down a side street, out of the line of sight of his would-be shooters. He was hearing fewer firearms firing now—maybe the ghoul had gotten one or two of them.

Jake roared down the street in his stolen truck, sideswiping vehicles parked on the side of the road, and hoped that his shitty driving would help dislodge the angry, freaked-out ghoul trying to force its way into the cab. Unfortunately, he had no such luck, and the thing was hissing, its eyes wild, tearing up the seats as it tried to reach him. It must not know what was happening, and was trying to attack the nearest perceived threat.

That’s right, Jake thought. Ghouls have better eyesight at night. Sunlight really messes them up, and this one is new, so it’s probably disoriented.

He cut the wheel to the right, zooming down a bumpy street directly through a trailer park. As he tried to keep the truck moving straight and not plowing into someone’s house, the ghoul’s claws actually hit Jake’s seat. Its second swipe took a chunk of his upper arm.

Jake was out of time and options. There was really only one thing to do.

The road came to a dead end, and a particularly large tree seemed like a good target. ‘Fuck this. Geronimo!’ Jake tried to yell. It came out as a croak. Regardless, he gunned the engine for one last burst of speed, angling the truck to hit one corner. He successfully nailed the tree.

Jake remembered to squint his eyes shut at the last second so he couldn’t actually see the impact. His zombie eyes were terrible, but they were better than nothing.

* * *

Apparently, even zombies could be dazed, because it took a few moments for Jake to start registering his surroundings again. Luckily, the angle he’d hit the tree had spared him from having a steering wheel through his chest.

The ghoul hadn’t been wearing a seat belt and had been more or less hanging through the back window and surfing the seats before the impact. Now, half its face was through the windshield. It was almost entirely unmoving, but Jake knew it probably wouldn’t stay stunned very long.

Ghouls were tough.

Jake saw his pistol where it had landed at his feet, luckily barely in reach. He bent down, trying to be as fast as possible while not jostling the ghoul. Unfortunately, nothing he could do now was smooth, and the monster began to stir even before Jake was able to touch the Springfield. His hand wrapped around the grip, and he began straightening as the ghoul’s eyes snapped open.

Since subtlety wasn’t an option anymore, Jake leaned back as far as he could, tilted the pistol up, and began unloading into the ghoul. The monster shrieked and struggled to bring its deadly claws to bear, but was tied up in the destroyed seats and other wreckage of the cab. As the .40 caliber bullets slammed into the creature’s body, popping through the roof, the monster gave up on freeing itself and mauled Jake’s shoulder with its mouth full of unnatural teeth.

If Jake had been alive, it might have really hurt. As it was, he could feel the damage, but it was more like pressure, not pain. Jake just kept firing, jerking the trigger and emptying almost the entire magazine. The last thing he saw in the ghoul’s eyes was confusion as it seemed to realize that Jake was a zombie, and it wasn’t getting a mouth full of blood. Could it remember the fact that he’d come out of the lake? Jake didn’t know and didn’t really care.

The thing’s head and torso were a mess, and Jake was covered in ghoul blood. It took him a while to figure out how to get out of the truck, since his door was bent. Even though his thoughts were slow, he could still remember the people who’d been shooting at him, and that getting the fuck out of Dodge, especially right now during the daytime, was really important.

Jake threw the rifle he’d confiscated out the front window, pocketed his pistol, and crawled over the dead ghoul as best he could. One advantage of being dead was that he wasn’t really slowed down by his injuries—apparently, all his ligaments and important bits were still working. The broken glass didn’t faze him either. Since he made sure to protect his eyes, climbing over sharp, cutting bits wasn’t a problem.

Somehow, the thought of finding gloves, safety glasses, and a helmet managed to occur to him as he escaped the wreck of the truck.

Before he was completely out, he noticed that a magic stone had appeared under the dead ghoul, and he pocketed it. It was super lucky to get another magic stone so soon after finding the one from the zombie earlier, but he didn't have time to celebrate.

Once he was completely out, he found and then slung the rifle before he began walking in the direction the forest was thickest. One of the nearby mobile home curtains twitched, and he thought he heard a muffled scream of fear. Luckily, none of the doors opened. Jake eyed the treeline, then the mobile homes, and finally decided to take a few precious moments to do something decent.

A nearby fire pit had some sticks with blackened ends. Jake grabbed a burned stick, shuffled up to the nearest door, and began to write. It took him a really long time, and the letters were barely legible, but he managed to get down, “Everyone stay inside. Bar the windows. Do not go out at night.”

In his first life, Jake had seen a statistic at some point that almost overwhelmingly, most survivors in the first few weeks after Purple Rain had hidden, or otherwise not taken too many risks before being rescued by military or militia. There were exceptions—hell, he’d been one of them—but the average person wasn’t a fighter. Not really.

Jake wasn’t sure if anyone in this mobile park would heed his warning, but at least someone must have seen him. If Jake had seen a zombie leave a written message right after the Purple Rain in his first life, he definitely would have paid attention. Hopefully, these people would be smart, heed the warning, and would be luckier than Jake’s family had been.

As he disappeared into the forest, hoping that monsters would keep leaving him alone as long as he kept his distance and didn’t spook them, Jake’s struggling brain remembered that in order to save his family in this lifetime, he still had to figure out where he was.

He hissed as he realized he could have probably just gotten a letter from a mailbox back at the mobile park and figured it out that way. I really hate being a zombie, Jake fumed. Complaining normally didn’t help anything, but since Jake was running on pure, mule-headed stubbornness, complaining might actually help keep him going, fueling his spite.

Jake moaned quietly, trying to curse for at least a mile.

Chapter 8

Human pursuit, other monsters, and every other way Jake’s un-life might end made him decide to find shelter. He really needed some relative peace to do some thinking.

The cave he found to hide in was more of a hole in a hill, and he could barely fit into it. Low crawling into it head-first was the only way to go. If he’d still been alive, he would have suffocated for sure, but that wasn’t exactly a problem now.

It was also good he didn’t seem to be hit too hard by emotion anymore either. Otherwise, he might be feeling fear, or at least anxiety. For someone who was claustrophobic, his current hiding place would be the stuff of nightmares. It was a good thing he wasn’t.

After he was fully in the ground, he wiggled further in until he judged his feet were hidden. Luckily, he still had some room ahead of him and to the sides, just enough to barely move around in.

After some fumbling, he produced the phones he’d taken. Clicking on some buttons made one light up, and he was able to use it to examine his surroundings. He only had about a couple of feet until the hole ended, and the walls were just earth. Jake felt lucky he hadn’t stumbled into a badger den or something. It might have been a badger den in the past.

He examined the phones. One had a stylus. Jake removed the stylus with a stiff grin, and tried swiping each screen. They all came to life.

Jake stared at each screen for a long moment. He growled when he realized all of them were password protected. Poking and prodding at them with his stylus did nothing to make the password lock go away, but he still tried to find a way in.

One had four blank spaces for a numerical password, along with a convenient number pad. There is no way this could work, he thought, but tried anyway: 1, 2, 3, 4.

When the screen changed and flashed to a home page, he closed his eyes in silent appreciation for lazy people.

Now that he had a functional phone, even with the crappy signal he was getting under the ground, Jake figured out where he was. At least, in general. He verified he was in Georgia, different from right after the Purple Rain in his first life.

Ahriman must have had limits to where he could teleport Jake to fuck him over. Otherwise, Jake might have wound up in Jerusalem. Or even Mexico.

He could come up with several reasons he had been sent to this location, but he might not ever know the real one. Wasn’t like Ahriman was going to tell him.

But one thing was certain: his parents’ house was right outside Macon. He was at least a few hours away by driving. They would die in less than a week. But Jake was a zombie, so moving fast was going to be tough.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

After Purple Rain, the world had rapidly been changed and had become more dangerous, both because of monsters and murderous humans. Even if he somehow managed to drive as a zombie, it wasn’t a solution. Even if he were still human, driving long distances would be difficult for a long time until the roads were cleared. Unjamming most of the important roads had taken at least a year during his first life.

Phones wouldn’t actually be all that useful for very long either. He did his best to memorize the best way to get to Macon from his current position while he could. In his first life, the flow of data began to slow about a week or two after Purple Rain, then stopped altogether. Since Jake had already consumed all the information he could about the end of the world after his first Purple Rain, there wasn’t much for him to actually look into now.

Instead, he got on a popular message board, slowly signed in with the help of his stylus, and left a long post for anyone who would read it. He told everyone what was going on, what to expect, and gave the best advice he could on how to survive.

At the bottom of his note, he signed his message “Jake M., Monster for Humanity, Grasshopper Mice leader.” The line was pretty cheesy, but he was a zombie lying in a hole in the middle of the woods and decided he didn’t care.

Jake then pondered further, thinking about anything else he could do with his slow 4G while he had it, and tried looking up some of his old team mates. He couldn’t find all of them, but the ones he tracked down on social media he sent a short message. Hopefully, they’d see it before communication all over the world ceased. He sent a few more messages to some very influential people, or at least those who would be in the future.

He sent a message to his parents, one he knew they would likely miss. More importantly, he wrote his sister.

After that was done, he turned the phone off.

Jake idly tapped the dark screen of a locked phone with a finger. He patiently used what was left of his mind, trying to focus on a solution, not the problem.

He had to get to Macon. And fast. Fighting along the way would be inevitable. He had some weapons, but they were all tangled up with his legs. They weren’t useful right now.

But thinking of the weapons reminded him of what else he’d found.

After turning on the light on a phone again, he reached down and managed to awkwardly wiggle one arm up, then opened his hand to reveal the monster cores. He examined them in the low light. The one he’d taken from the zombie was small and smooth, about the size of a peanut, but the core from the ghoul had flat edges, and was bigger by about 20%.

Monster cores would be valuable in the post Purple Rain world, since they could be used to power all sorts of magic, or alien tech, and techno-wizardry that a few powerful companies would make in the future. For instance, a simple monster core-powered caster cannon was many times more effective than most conventional firearms against monsters.

But monster cores, even while being used to power tech, attracted monsters. This was one reason Jake’s old team had shied away from using them. They were expensive, and in his experience, his team ended up needing to fight more when they had them, which actually raised their operating costs, and had increased the danger for everyone. It was better to only have monster cores in their possession on the way back to a fortified base.

Like many aspects of the changed world, people hadn’t understood monster cores at first. In fact, for a long time, nobody had known for sure why monsters were attracted to them, probably because people had only really been able to study weak monsters like zombies for a long time. Then footage had come out of monsters killing other monsters, usually of a different type, and eating their cores. After this, researchers around the world had realized that instances of monsters preying on and eating each other had likely actually been mostly about the other monster’s core, plus either impatience or gluttony.

And the most powerful monsters killed plenty of other monsters—this was a known fact. It was likely they also ate a bunch of cores as part of when they grew in power.

When the light on the phone timed out, Jake flicked it back on. He stared at the monster cores and tried to decide what to do. His zombie brain moved slow.

Jake closed his eyes to think as best he could about the problem. After a while on a whim, he tried to meditate. It didn’t work. He was dead and couldn’t feel any of the life force around him at all. While he’d never been a particularly powerful cultivator, and never would have been due to his study of Western magic before switching to cultivation, purifying his body and opening his chakras had become a part of who he was.

Now as a monster with reason—and likely a soul—he had no idea how he could be classified. All he knew is that eating a monster could change him into something else, but maybe something that couldn’t think. Being a zombie meant he wasn’t exactly drowning in lightning-fast ideas, but at least he still knew who he was.

Could that change? He wasn’t sure, but one thing Jake absolutely had to do was try to save his family. As he was now, it would be next to impossible.

He hit a button on a phone to make it light up again, made sure he was holding the core from the dead zombie, and popped it in his mouth. Jake didn’t know what to expect, but what he actually experienced in that moment was completely unreal. The second he’d actually begun the act of swallowing, the core had just... dissolved. Then energy—raw, undiluted power—slammed through his body.

Somehow, Jake knew that he was only catching the edges of what was actually happening since his body was dead, and he couldn’t feel much. Wisps of visible power in the form of glowing mist began to rise from his skin as energy from the monster core escaped into the atmosphere. Strange sensations, like pressure, raged through his limbs, moving toward his center, and Jake felt something begin to change.

Uh oh, he thought. Through some new instinct he had, he knew that if he let the energy run its course, he was going to change into a new sort of monster. This confused him for a while until he realized why. Zombies were very weak monsters, and couldn’t effectively harm or hunt any other type of monster. Hell, they couldn’t even effectively harm humans. It probably wouldn’t take much for a zombie to evolve, likely to a new type of zombie.

Jake tried to think, tried to move his mind. Turning into a new type of zombie wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Some zombies that were considered more powerful could barely move, just stayed in one place and threw bile. Maybe he’d turn into an even stupider creature than he had already been becoming as a basic zombie.

He focused on the power running through his body, and when he noticed an ever so slight recognition, like a kinship he half-sensed, he immediately took action. Lying down as he was would make it more difficult, but Jake began to meditate. Then, just like he had on the hell world, he channeled and cultivated the monster core just as he had demonic energy.

All the power had been rushing one direction, so Jake pulled it back, diverting it entirely into his body instead. As he slowly wrestled with the energy, bending it to his will, letting it touch his soul before sending it to where his dantian would be if he were alive. Then he began revolving power through his near-nonexistent chakras, and he marveled at what he was doing. This process, moving around energy, then chi through his body without actually being able to see it or handle it properly, was similar to what he’d done while surviving in the demonic tunnels before he’d died. He was sure there was no way he could have even begun saving himself from transforming right now without that experience. It wouldn’t have been possible without having cultivated unnatural, and likely evil energies before.

Jake wrestled with the energy from the monster core, and realized that the sensation was likely like a medicinal pill his teacher had mentioned before, something from his homeland. Jake had never seen one, but apparently, some medicinal pills could contain great power. They were usually used for immortal cultivators to break through into new realms of power or enlightenment.

Light from the cell phone screen faded as the device’s time limit was up again and it powered down to save battery life. Now that he was struggling in the dark, eyes closed, Jake had a sudden flash of understanding. His cultivation efforts in the last few minutes had... anchored him to the power of the monster core, allowing him to see what was happening inside his body more clearly.

He understood.

As a monster, or at least as an undead, he could not cultivate regularly. Living, natural energies were beyond him, but unnatural energies were not. As a monster, he hadn’t had a dantian before, at least not really, nothing he could feel. But trying to control the massive amount of power raging through his body was resulting in something amazing. He was actually creating a dantian in his body, and reopening his meridians that he’d had when he was still alive, filling them with infernal energy.

While it was sort of similar to what he’d done when he’d been trapped in Ahriman’s hell world, this was much more powerful, more pure.

Jake felt truly grateful for the first time that he was undead. If he could have actually felt anything in this moment, the pain and trauma would have killed him. He was being reforged, and not just in body. His mind, spirit, and soul were all undergoing changes too. Jake desperately tried to modify the energy, bring it into his newly formed dantian, and begin cultivating.

Old, half-learned mantras weren’t going to cut it. There was no way anyone had ever done what he was attempting—he was on his own.

Fumbling around for words wasn’t easy, but it would have been impossible if Jake had also been able to experience all the pain he should be experiencing. The mantra he’d used before as part of the cultivation techniques he’d been taught had been in a different language. Since then, he’d read about a few other techniques. He could feel the pressure building; energy pressing against his dantian, his core itself expanding, and his screaming meridians.

I am Jake, he thought. The mountain is strong, and the mountain is me. I am strong. No matter my form, I am who I am, and who I will be. There is no greater truth than that which I carry within, and bring to the world. Energy lasts forever. The energy I cultivate will carry my will.

A light flashed through Jake’s spirit, and he knew he’d experienced something like enlightenment for the first time in his life. He’d come close while cultivating demonic energy, but now... This was different. The words had been close to something like a personal mantra he could actually use. He needed to make some changes.

I am Jake. The mountain is strong, and the mountain is me. I am strong, but I am weak. The weak and the strong combine to create the spirit, which is unbreakable. No matter my form, I am who I am, and who I will be. There is no greater truth than that which I carry within, and bring to the world. Energy lasts forever. The energy that I cultivate and bend to my will carry my will.

Jake’s mind felt like it exploded.

Pressure from the energy weakened as he began to process the flood more easily, and he felt himself change more quickly. As his understanding of what was happening deepened, Jake realized that the energy he was absorbing from the monster core was going in three directions: deeper, higher, and forward.

He followed each path of energy, and finally knew how he could guide his own development. Taking the energy and cultivating deeper would result in increased ability to process energy, and in his basic abilities to grow more powerful. This direction was how he’d reforged his meridians.

Investing energy into moving higher was how he was nearing being something... new. This was how he could evolve into a new type of monster. Using monster cores this way was likely how normal monsters evolved.

Then last, there was moving forward. This was hard for him to understand at first, but he reasoned it resulted in something like refining, and cultivating the type of monster he was currently. He suddenly realized he was thinking more clearly, much faster, almost like his old self. At first, he thought that cultivating energy deeper was the reason for his clarity, but then he began to wonder if moving forward was part of it too.

If he’d been a human, there’d only be one way to cultivate, basically moving forward. But humans didn’t transform; they just purified themselves and gained more power. In order to reach new stages of cultivation, Jake had three dimensions he could move between, which would be more difficult, but maybe more rewarding too. He wasn’t sure yet.

What he did know is that he didn’t want to evolve yet—he was still sure about that. Being a zombie was awful, but at least he could sort of think and walk. What if he turned into a giant leech or something?

With an effort of will, Jake continued his new mantra, and pushed the energy he was channeling deeper and forward. His meridians spasmed as they were revitalized and pushed open. Even without being able to actually feel anything, Jake thought he sensed stars of pain.

The feeling was amazing, and also frightening.

Jake let himself fall into a deeper meditation state. He also continued to mimic the breathing exercises he’d learned from his teacher. Even being dead and not able to breathe, he could still move air in and out of his lungs, and the entire process was much easier now that he didn’t feel any pain and didn’t actually need oxygen to keep functioning.

If he’d been alive, keeping all the moving parts of his cultivation in sync would have been impossible, which would have resulted in death or a destroyed dantian, at least at his new, vulnerable stage of basically reforging himself. But he wasn’t alive. He was something else.

Before Jake completely submerged himself in his meditation and cultivation, he wondered what he was becoming. He was a zombie. His old teacher had called cultivators “immortals,” which was how Jake had become interested in learning such a different new power in the first place. Based on what he’d learned from his teacher, the types of immortals were immortal cultivators, demonic cultivators, and rogue immortals. He’d started in his first life using immortal cultivation techniques, then sort of used demonic techniques when he’d been trapped in Ahriman’s domain. He might have been considered a rogue cultivator then.

But now, whatever he was, he wasn’t sure there was a name for it. He wished his cultivation…education had been more thorough.

Jake dove into saving his life. He cleared his mind and focusing on pulling power into his dantian, pushing it through his meridians, and cycling his chi. The process itself wasn’t complicated, but would have been impossible without all the on-the-fly modifications he’d done.

* * *

There was no way to tell how long Jake had been meditating until he swiped a phone awake. Five hours. It felt like avoiding complete destruction had taken much longer.

With a start, he realized he could definitely think more clearly now. He was still dead, but his brain didn’t feel like it was falling apart on him anymore.

Acting on a hunch, Jake used his phone light to check the skin on his arms, and realized that all the damage he’d taken in the car crash was gone. Little glittering pieces of glass had been pushed out of his skin and had fallen to the ground. Somehow, cultivating the monster core had repaired his undead body.

More importantly, Jake could sort of feel again, and his meridians were back. Actually, he amended that thought—he had twice as many meridians as before. What the heck?

The changes his body had just gone through had been enormous, so much so that he couldn’t even wrap his head around them all yet. Unlike in his first life, he didn’t feel... cleaner, or more pure, like after a profound meditation session. The first time he’d had a big breakthrough when he’d been alive, junk like puss and dirt had been forced out of his body. He hadn’t believed it would really happen until it actually did.

But as a zombie, he just felt... smarter.

He fleetingly wondered what he might have turned into if he’d continued processing energy automatically, or pushing it upward, then dismissed that thought. Going directly from a basic zombie to another monster just didn’t make sense. Maybe one day he could evolve after he was stronger.

When normal monsters ate other monsters’ cores, Jake thought, they must get energy flowing to their three different directions either at random or in some predetermined amount based on the core itself. Jake also had a very strong feeling that the way monsters naturally absorbed the cores was super inefficient. It was likely that they lost most of the power the cores had in the process. Using his dangerous new way of cultivation, Jake hadn’t lost a drop of it once he’d started.

He stared at the ghoul monster core long and hard, wondering how much more intense it would be to process than the zombie core that had almost just killed him.

After a brief hesitation, he tried to say ‘Fuck it,’ but just gave a normal moan before shoving the core into his mouth.

Jake saw stars, and began repeating his mantra while cycling his power like mad. His “ki,” or “chi,” responded appropriately, spinning through his meridians.

The sensation was how he imagined it would be running from a bull. If he was alive, the sense of elation would have messed up his meditation, but as a zombie, it was surprisingly easy to keep a calm mind.

* * *

This time, when Jake came out of his meditation, he checked an acquired phone and noted he’d only been out for two hours. It was amazing that he’d been able to internalize such a large amount of energy in even less time than it’d taken for the zombie monster core. He could only imagine that each time he used a monster core, the process would get easier.

Then he wiggled his limbs, feeling his newfound power, exploring it. He grinned as he realized that while he was still a zombie, now he could move more freely, and felt more coordinated.

Saving his family in less than a week didn’t feel like nearly as impossible of a task anymore. Getting to Macon was still his main goal, but acquiring and cultivating monster cores was now a priority too.

Chapter 9

After turning on his borrowed phone and using it until the battery ran out, sending emails, and doing everything he could think of to help survivors or reach future movers and shakers, Jake knew it was time to get moving again.

He pulled himself out of his hole in the ground with a great deal of difficulty and frustration, but eventually made it out. The barest hint of sunlight was slanting through the trees. It was amazing to him the little things he could notice now. The humid air felt cool against his undead flesh. He could hear things clearer. Animals in the woods or humans off in the distance.

The thought of humans made Jake want to check his weapons. He wasn’t exactly an undead gunslinger, at least not yet, but he would have the dexterity to manipulate his acquired weapons now. Mostly.

All the weapons were in decent shape. He had about a half mag left for all of them. Jake wasn’t quite sure how to carry everything, though. There’d been a sling on the rifle at one point, but it’d been nothing but a cheap nylon strip and now it was broken.

The weapon had optics, but they were also cheap and had broken. Jake examined the iron sights and frowned when he realized how shoddy they were. He couldn’t use them anyway, since his eyes still weren’t good enough, didn’t focus right. But he’d bet that the guy who’d owned this rifle before had never actually sighted in his irons anyway.

Jake looked around. He was standing at the top of a large hill, not far from where he’d hidden while cultivating, when the decision was suddenly made for him.

“Aren’t you an interesting one,” purred an unfamiliar voice.

Jake was dead, and even with his massive improvement over the last few hours, he couldn’t feel much, but the voice was enough to surprise him. He forgot that his feet didn’t quite move how they used to, and as he turned, he fell.

Then he fell, and fell even more.

At the bottom of the huge hill, he realized he had a stick through his arm, one in his stomach, and one leg was obviously broken.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he tried to say. All he actually made was three clear moans, but at least it was three of them now. He realized that no matter how many monster cores he consumed, he might not ever be able to talk as long as he stayed a zombie.

When he stood, after a quick check, he found the only weapon he had left was the Springfield he’d gotten from the gas station. The others were likely up the hill somewhere, in a bush, or under leaves.

Jake slowly blinked, trying to wrap his mind around this new development when he heard the voice again.

“A bit high strung, aren’t you? Well, I don’t blame you.”

Jake whirled. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life was standing with her hands on her hips. She was in the middle of the forest and really wasn’t wearing much. Her arms were covered, but the rest of her outfit looked sort of like a belly dancing costume. When Jake noticed that she had horns, his hand crept back to his pocket where he’d stashed the .40.

“Stop that. We need to talk.” The woman pointed, and Jake’s hand snapped back down. “Since we are having an official chat, I can do this for you too.”

All the branches popped out of Jake’s body, and the damage he’d just sustained instantly healed itself. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he tried to ask.

Apparently, the strange woman understood his groans and moans because she replied, “I’m about to make you an offer.”

‘Who are you?’

She smiled, showing a set of abnormally long, pointed canines. “Good job. That was the question you needed to ask before we could go any further.” Her eyes glowed, and she purred, “My name is Morrigan, as in The Morrigan. I’m known by other names too, but you couldn’t pronounce them.”

Before the Purple Rain, none of that would have meant anything to Jake, but after becoming a mage in his first life, he’d gotten a crash course on mythology around the world—not least of which because so many myths had been coming to life and eating people. ‘You are a goddess?’ he tried to ask.

“Based on your limited understanding of what that word means, yes.”

He believed her.

In the supernatural world, stolen identity just wasn’t usually a thing, both because of pride and because an entity lying about who they were was such a taboo, it would incur consequences none of them would want.

So, she’s a goddess, huh? Jake might have been more impressed if he hadn’t already met a god who had already tried to destroy him. Of course, he wasn’t an idiot either, so he didn’t want to piss her off for no reason. ‘I see. How should I address you so as to not cause offense?’

The Morrigan’s eyes smiled. “I knew this would be an interesting meeting. You are sly. You may call me by my name, The Morrigan, or Lady, if you’d like.”

‘Yes, Lady. And may I speak freely?’

“So long as your words are not unnecessarily harsh or disrespectful, yes.”

Jake blinked his foggy eyes and felt glad for the fact that he could think a lot faster now than he could before. ‘Lady, that seems highly... open to interpretation. Can we have rules for our conversation that are a bit more... quantifiable?’

The Morrigan made a sour face and casually flicked a stick, severing it with the long, black claws she’d grown. “There can be such a thing as too clever, but fine. I understand why you are pushing this. We can talk freely.”

‘Thank you, Lady.’ Jake briefly regretted his lost weapons, but dismissed the thought. The last time he’d met a god, he’d lost everything and been turned into a zombie. He needed to be as sharp as he could be. For a second time, he felt thankful that his brain was operating at almost normal levels now.

The goddess chose a nearby stump and gracefully sat. It was slight, but the area around her grew noticeably darker.

Jake would have swallowed if he’d been alive. The Morrigan was stunning in a way he would have a hard time explaining to someone who hadn’t experienced supernatural beauty before. Being a zombie was actually probably protecting him in some way, just like being dead—or not-dead—had protected him while meeting Ahriman.

He tried to recall what he knew about The Morrigan. She was generally associated with battle and death, but was not necessarily “evil,” per se. She was a complicated sort of deity, tied to animals, warfare, fate, birth, and death. Some myths even had her split into three people.

One thing Jake definitely remembered was that she was known as a great queen, or maybe the great queen.

Nothing Jake could remember gave him any clue at all to why a Celtic goddess had appeared to him in the Georgia forest.

She stared at him uncomfortably long before finally saying, “I am sure you are wondering why I’m here, especially given your tricky questions from before. Getting right to the point has its merits, but I am actually allowed to talk to you for a while, and I plan to use this time. This is, after all, a job interview.”

If Jake were greener, he might have asked ‘What?’ or some other stupid question. Instead, he merely nodded and waited for the goddess to explain herself. After all, she had appeared to him, so logically, the job interview might go both directions.

She seemed to wait for him to say something, and when he didn’t, equal parts irritation and respect crossed her face. “If you understand what is going on with your world, understanding what I have to propose will be much easier.”

Jake doubted that, or at least thought it was more likely that giving him information was a show of good faith. She must really want him to do something, maybe something he would really not want to do. He nodded again.

“What you call the Purple Rain event was your world reentering the collection status it should have been in to begin with. A powerful god of light had been protecting your world, hiding it for a very, very long time. Finally, your species made enough mistakes as stewards of this planet to allow us to find it again. It’s actually a bit more complex than that, but this is a quick overview.”

‘Who is 'us’?’

“Dark gods. This collection world should have been part of our domain if not for the light’s meddling.”

‘So there are collection worlds that are controlled by the light?’

“Yes.”

‘And what is a collection world?’

Morrigan smiled. “If I tell you this information, you will be forever caught up in the Eternal Struggle, and likely will be the only mortal soul on this entire world to know the truth, at least for now. Do you wish for me to continue? It is your choice.”

‘I’ve already told Ahriman to go fuck himself, and he’s obviously out to get me. I don’t think it gets much more ‘caught up’ than that. Go ahead.’

“So be it.” The Morrigan uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “This is actually interesting. I’m glad I chose to have this conversation.”

Jake wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He defaulted to a safe ‘Thank you, Lady.’

“The gods are part of a collective that maintains balance by investing in lower beings to clash with one another. If the gods were to fight directly, over time, it would threaten continued life on most worlds.”

‘That doesn’t sound like balance; it sounds like war by proxy.’

Morrigan waved a hand. “That is part of it, obviously. We still fight, but there are limits to how directly we can affect lower worlds. Like limiters. Some circumstances can lift them, but in general, this will help you explain our motivation. Even a relatively weak god can rule a lower plane with the right champions.

“But in order to play, we all need to make ourselves vulnerable to our own rules. Those of us who are involved are bound by our own power. The system protects us too, though—which is another advantage of playing. And this way, we can also have champions that we watch, that we support, and who can humiliate our enemies.”

‘Ah. Then I have a feeling there is betting involved too. Is there betting involved?’

The Morrigan shrugged. “Yes, but I do not participate.”

‘Then what do you get out of this?’

“Power. Influence. Prestige. And I also enjoy inconveniencing and enraging my enemies.” This time when she smiled, the shadows around her grew, and the air surrounding her body shimmered. Her eyes glowed brighter.

Jake knew if he’d still been alive, he might have pissed himself.

The forest around them was entirely, deathly silent.

He made a quick guess. ‘So, I take it you are not best friends with Mr. Ahriman.’

“Hardly. There are others too. They have plans, and I want to ruin them.” Her eyes twinkled. “Just like some powers among the light wish to destroy each other, the same is true for those of us who live in the dark. In truth, there are many among the light I have no quarrel with.”

‘I think I am starting to understand what is going on better now. But why are you telling me all of this? I’m assuming it has something to do with the Purple Rain, and all the monsters, and everything being terrible now, right?’

“More or less, yes. As you have probably already learned, ‘evil’ is a matter of perspective, but some gods are pretty much evil from any definition. A few of the evil gods were responsible for what you call the Purple Rain. It was the most efficient way to begin your world’s trials.”

‘Wait, what are trials?’ Jake asked, but already had some suspicions.

“Trials are the troubles meant to reveal the greatest in your world, or to forge them.”

‘So, my planet, my world, is a collection world. And the purpose of a collection world is to create... geniuses? Fighters?’

“Exactly. And you are not on the very lowest plane right now, but we are not far from the bottom. What you are experiencing while talking to me right now is as if I were dipping a finger into a puddle. It is all I am allowed to do with the current rules. I have come here to talk to you to make a deal. You see, I want you to be my champion if and when you earn your right to be recognized as a hero.”

‘You’re scouting. But why do you think that will happen?’

The Morrigan’s eyes flicked around for a second, like she was looking for something. “When mortals begin to awaken, they create titles for themselves. Very few beings can see them. Not even all gods can see them all. What titles a mortal has attached to their soul can influence what sort of hero they may eventually become. The more titles, the more directions their growth could lead. Bigger titles mean more potential. This world has only just been rediscovered, brought back into the fold. Others, like me, will be attracted due to the temporal reset that just happened.”

‘You mean going back in time.’

“Just so. And others are focusing on other things, like the living, but I have always... thought outside the box. It is lucky for both of us that I had the urge to examine interesting new non-human creatures as well. You have some very intriguing titles. The combination of life experiences and skills you possess are also quite rare, even unlikely. You may be the first of your kind, ever. This is quite unusual.”

‘I have titles?’

“Oh yes,” the goddess cooed. “‘First Immortal Practitioner’ of your world. ‘Eater of Demons.’ ‘Defier of Gods.’ ‘Undead Prince.’ ‘Savior of Millions.’ This list goes on. I have looked into your past, and what happened to your planet before you died in your original timeline. It all seemed suspicious. There was not nearly enough advancement in your first timeline.”

‘Suspicious?’ Despite his earlier calm, the way the goddess was casually talking about looking back in time was beginning to unnerve him.

“Indeed. Then I realized why not enough heroes from your world had ascended. There are powers that are trying to destroy this planet, to take it out of the running. To prevent new heroes from joining the Eternal Struggle. I am not sure why, but it may be for many reasons, and may help explain why the powers of light protected this world for so long. None of this is likely to be revealed anytime soon, but it is painfully obvious after reviewing your history that your people were treated harshly.”

‘Too many monsters?’

The Morrigan shook her head. “No. Not enough. Too few trainers or relics were seeded, and too few deadly challenges and trials were introduced in the proper areas to stimulate growth!”

‘Oh.’ Jake almost regretted having asked the question. If the world had had too few trials, what would Morrigan want for the planet instead?

“The various ways your people had been tested would have slowed a great deal after enough viable candidates were discovered who could go to the next realm.”

‘Realms, like planes of existence?’

“That is correct.”

Jake suddenly had a horrible thought. ‘So, all the calamities that happened in my first lifetime, like the disaster in Mexico… They could have been stopped?’

“If your people had been stronger, yes. But that is part of why I have come.”

‘I have a feeling I am not going to like this.’

“Maybe, maybe not. I do not know your mind or your heart. But the original Event that happened during your lifetime in Mexico will not happen there this time around. Events will not play out exactly the same. Among other changes, your existence is like a pebble thrown in a pond, creating ripples. Now the Event will happen near where you were born.”

‘But how…’

“That was your last free piece of information.” The goddess held up a single finger and gave a sinister look. “You have been clever so far. Now think: what question should you ask?”

Jake didn’t have to think about it for long. He looked The Morrigan right in the eyes despite the risk, and finally said, ‘What do you want from me?’

“Excellent. Even in zombie form, you are sharper than many others.” She stood and stretched sensually before placing her hands on her hips. “I believe that you are destined to be recognized as a Hero Candidate. If enough Candidates are recognized from your world, you will be sent to a higher plane to represent the Earth and the powers of darkness. The trials on this planet will slow, which will result in less chaos, but another group will also eventually be chosen to follow you, and so on and so forth. If you are part of the first group, many eyes will be on you. Many of the divine will want you as their tool, but you will choose me.” Her eyes glowed.

‘Why?’

The goddess gave a significant look to the trail through the undergrowth that Jake had made when he’d fallen. “It seems you have lost some weapons as you rolled down that hill, correct? Since we are not connected in any way, not indebted to each other, I could not aid you without breaking many rules. However, the weapons you have lost were powerful and crucial to your survival, right?”

‘Yes.’

“It seems fair, using the law of divine exchange, that I pay for your loss since I caused it. I can give you tools in the form of knowledge that will help you greatly.”

The goddess was dangling a carrot.

Jake thought about it for a while. The deal didn’t sound bad, but as The Morrigan had framed it, he couldn’t just agree to it. It was too one-sided. He had a feeling his words would be binding.

‘How about this instead? I will give you the first audience if that day comes, and we can negotiate our final terms there and then.’ The Morrigan narrowed her eyes, but before she could speak, Jake held up one hand. ‘I promise to consider your terms and your offer at that time very seriously.’

“I have your word?”

‘Yes.’

She paused, then sighed. “I agree. This should be good enough for now. My time remaining for this audience is almost expired, so your haggling worked well, Jacob Mazzariello.” She walked over to him, and before he could even register what she was doing, the goddess pushed her thumb into his forehead before turning to walk away. She began to fade, and over her shoulder, she said, “I hope we meet again.”

Before she was even fully gone, something happened that shouldn’t have been possible.

Not to a zombie.

Jake began to feel terrible, blinding pain.

Chapter 10

Jake woke up in the forest, covered with dirt. He was still a zombie. The Morrigan was gone—likely long gone. After trying to remember what had happened, he could feel what was different now.

Unlike before, he could sense his own existence in a way he never would have been able to explain. After thinking about it briefly, he settled down to sit against a tree and meditated. Since he was dead, he still couldn’t cultivate properly. But he felt something inside himself he’d never felt before. Pathways of probability, like connections through the sky, wove through his mind. Possibilities lay before him that he’d known were there, but now he could sense them so clearly. He almost felt like he could touch them.

Now Jake could sense what sort of monster he might evolve into if he cultivated upwards and forward. He could sense how incredibly complex these possibilities really were now too. Since he had a better grasp of what was going on now, he could appreciate how wise it’d been to not try turning into a different monster too soon.

Jake might have dodged turning into a slime or some low-level monster that couldn’t even think.

If that had happened, it likely would have been game over for him.

A glimmer of a plan began to form in his mind. There was no way in hell he was going to make it to Macon in time to save his parents as a zombie. But what if he turned into something faster, more capable?

Jake made up his mind. He needed to get the hell out of Dodge, find an area with more monsters, and gather energy to cultivate. So he could evolve.

* * *

About an hour later, he was lying prone at the edge of the road, watching a train as best he could through some bushes. When the Purple Rain had first happened, even with news reports of zombies, trains and busses had still run, at least for a while. Some people just didn’t see or hear the news until it was too late. Others tried to return home to their families.

Jake needed to get on that train. His current location, basically on the border between Georgia and Florida, was just too far away from any area he was familiar with to use any knowledge from his first life. Even if the train was going the opposite direction, he needed to leave, but this one looked like it was heading north—the direction he needed to go. Lucky.

This train had made a stop a few hours earlier, and he’d seen it in the distance. Then he’d stumbled forward, looking for a car he could climb on in case it started moving again. He thought he’d finally seen some promising-looking train cars, but then he thought he’d heard voices, maybe some screaming. It was hard to really gauge distances and directions.

The problem wasn’t so much that his hearing was bad, quite the opposite, in fact. He actually felt like he could hear better now than when he was alive. It was just different.

Shit.

The train had actually begun moving a few minutes ago, and was still barely crawling, but Jake decided to get up and just go for it. The chance was worth it, because he wasn’t sure if he could make it onto the train if it were moving any faster than walking speed.

He kept swiveling his head to keep the best situational awareness he could. The sound of voices grew fainter as the train made more noise, and he still couldn’t see any people. Weird, he thought.

When he reached it, the train was still slow enough, moving toward him, that he could easily climb aboard.

He awkwardly rolled aboard and got to his knees, surveying the inside of the box car. It looked okay.

Then he noticed the doors on the other side were open. And he could see up ahead why he’d heard voices.

There were people.

Fuck.

Three of them were men. One was standing with a rifle, apparently keeping watch. He was overweight and nervous, wearing jeans and flannel. Another, a skinny guy, was standing nearby, drinking a beer and chuckling while the last man cursed as he tried to wrangle a struggling girl on the bed of an old pickup. The three men looked like they were in their late teens or early 20s.

Jake mentally cursed again. If he were smart, he would just pretend he hadn’t seen anything and stay on the train. The men hadn’t seen him. They weren’t watching behind them at all. In fact, they’d likely chosen this spot because of the noise of the train. Screams could draw monsters—so could gunshots. Trying to cover noises with the sound of a train, and being near the train in the first place had been clever in its own fucked-up way.

He briefly thought about just staying in the box car. Could he be that ruthless? If he wasted too much time going north, he wouldn’t reach his family in time, but there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to save them anyway. On the other hand, the girl here was in trouble right now, and he might be able to do something about it.

Once these men were done with the girl, she wouldn’t likely live to talk about it. The apocalypse and everything it meant, like no more law, could bring out the worst in people—especially the dumb ones. In Jake’s first life, smart people had figured out that even with no law, there would still be accountability.

Most communities didn’t tolerate murderous crazies for too long, at least not small fry. But murderous crazies with power and followers had been a thing before the Purple Rain—that didn’t change. The power just changed hands.

With a grumble, Jake placed his hand behind his back and rolled off the boxcar at the right moment. He didn’t have any air to knock out of his lungs, so he stayed completely conscious and clear headed as he rolled toward the scene.

He got up, less slowly than he might have a day ago, and began walking slowly forward. The young men still hadn’t noticed him, and it would probably be pretty easy to walk up and bite one, but that would only mean they might die a few days later. No, he needed different results.

Since he needed to get their attention, Jake began to moan. Loudly.

To ham up his zombie act, he shuffled forward sluggishly, like one of his legs had been smashed and he couldn’t use it well. He kept moving, though, trying to get as close as possible without seeming like too much of a threat.

All this sudden noise and movement finally got the youths’ attention. By this point, the one on the bed of the truck had his pants around his ankles and the girl wasn’t struggling anymore. It looked like he’d hit her a few times. Jake had a bad angle and couldn’t see very well but he thought he saw blood. Her clothing had been ripped.

After Jake very deliberately moaned again, the man with the rifle turned and Jake tried not to tense. “No, you idiot,” hissed the man with the beer. “The fast things might hear you!”

“Then why the hell are we out here!” demanded the overweight guy. He had the beginnings of a beard and wore glasses. “Alex, you said you were just going to scare her a little. That was it! What the hell are you doing!?” He hissed the last part.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m teaching this bitch a lesson. Isn’t she into that Wicca shit? I heard people calling her a witch. Maybe all this shit is because of her! Maybe fucked-up freaks like her ended the world!”

“Alex, I don’t think—” the guy with the beer started to say. He had pimples and a wispy goatee.

“How about you guys quit worrying about what I’m doing like a bunch of dickless faggots and do something about that zombie? It’s almost reached us.”

“But I can’t use the rifle, right? Noise?”

“No, but we have baseball bats. Fuck! Figure something out! I’m busy, but if you two decide to stop being queer, you can have a turn after me.”

The man with the rifle looked green around the gills, but Beer Guy seemed to get a glint in his eye. He popped into the truck for a second and came out with a baseball bat. Then he set down his beer bottle and walked toward Jake. The man with the rifle was slowly approaching too.

Good, Jake thought. This was going to require some precise timing, and maybe some luck. The weird cultivation of monster cores that he’d done earlier had left him far better off than he had been before, but he was still a zombie.

It was a problem that a baseball bat or rifle could definitely kill him with a blow to the head. Even broken bones right now would be bad. He could only move around normal walking speed as it was.

Jake’s reaction time was still pretty bad, so he focused as best he could while looking slightly off to one side, moaning, trying to act like a normal zombie. He’d been betting on the fact that these fine specimens of humanity had already grown at least somewhat accustomed to low-level monsters, otherwise they wouldn’t be out by the train tracks, proving that they didn’t deserve to live.

With that thought in mind, right as Beer Guy wound up to swing, Jake pulled his handgun from behind his back and shot him in the heart. Beer Guy made a sound like he’d been kicked in the balls and dropped to the ground without ceremony.

It was almost comical how slow to react the other two were. Rifle Guy just stared, and the one they’d called Alex, the one on top of the girl, began to try pulling up his pants. He was still kneeling, so it wasn’t working well.

Even though the shot would be tough, Jake prioritized Rifle Guy. He knew he didn’t have too many rounds left, so he tried to aim as best he could, firing three times.

At least one connected.

The man screamed, and hot blood spattered the rocky ground when the bullet punched through his thigh. It looked like another bullet had grazed his elbow.

Jake kept the pistol leveled, hoping that the guy would be stupid. Thankfully, he was.

Rifle Guy kept a grip on his weapon as he stumbled backwards, unfortunately, but he began to awkwardly run away. It was obvious that he was pumped full of adrenaline. Jake fired another shot after him. Just to keep him moving. Rifle Guy was too far away now to reasonably hit with a pistol, at least while Jake was still a zombie.

Jake had to hope that Rifle Guy wouldn’t find some balls or brains before Jake was gone. The entire reason he hadn’t shot Jake with the rifle before was because of the noise, but Jake was making plenty of it now.

He moved toward the struggling Alex, who had the sheer gall to plead, “No, please!”

Before Purple Rain, Jake might have hesitated despite his disgust, but he felt almost nothing now. He moved forward, smoother than he had before, and when he was close enough, his gun came up again.

Alex snarled and awkwardly stumbled toward him, grabbing for the gun, but Jake was leading with his other undead hand. He managed to grab Alex. Then he simply rested his pistol against the would-be rapist’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

As soon as he fired, or at least a second after the body hit the ground, he noticed a tiny, cloudy bit of light leave Alex’s body and rise upward, rushing toward Jake’s dantian. He didn’t know what it was—except for really weird—but Jake didn’t have time to think about it.

The rumbling of the train behind him was a reminder that he had to move.

He wasn’t even sure if he had any more bullets in his pistol, so he pointed it in the general direction of the running Rifle Guy and intended to empty the magazine.

Nothing happened.

Wow. I almost pulled the trigger on a click with Alex. That might not have turned out so well.

Jake almost tossed the pistol, but had a change of heart. The Springfield had served him well, and maybe he’d find some ammo for it later. He stashed the pistol and approached the girl. With all the gunshots he’d just made, somebody or something was likely to show up, and if it were the latter, this girl was definitely going to die.

Jake could hear a gunshot and cursing from the direction Rifle Guy had gone. It seemed the recent noise really had attracted monsters. That meant Rifle Guy would probably be coming back once rational thought returned and he realized he’d left the truck.

As a fresh zombie, before he’d cultivated, Jake had been awkward but still fairly strong. In his improved form, he was not only more coordinated but also even stronger. He lifted the girl from the back of the truck, and moved back to the train at full speed.

This was going to be close.

The train was almost moving at a running clip now, and there were only a few more boxcars left. Only one more was open, and it was two cars down. Jake could hear howls of approaching ghouls, and the huffing of Rifle Guy as he limped back to the truck. Hopefully, he’d think Jake was trying to eat the girl or something, or wouldn’t have time to shoot. As it was, Rifle Guy probably wasn’t going to survive the approaching ghouls anyway.

Jake didn’t even look around. He had all of his attention on the approaching boxcar. As soon as the open door was moving by, he threw the girl inside. Since he was still so slow, there was barely any boxcar left when he unceremoniously threw himself inside.

The rear wall of the car hit him, and he heard something snap.

Maybe his lung had just been punctured, but he didn’t need to breathe, so he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. What was more pressing was possibly falling out and being stranded in the middle of nowhere on the Georgia/Florida border. Luckily, he had just enough of his upper body inside the car to have stayed inside through weight and friction. His legs dangled precariously outside.

As the train continued to speed up, the noise grew. Jake carefully reached forward and put both cold hands on the metal ahead of him. If he were to lever himself up, he would likely slide out of the car, and he didn’t have the dexterity or speed to get his feet up and inside. He’d have to do this the hard way.

Jake pulled himself forward using the friction between his hands and the rattling floor of the box car. It took a while until he could feel the balance change and knew he was safe. Once he was inside, he looked back to see if any ghouls had followed them, but it looked like one was chasing the retreating truck and one was eating the men that Jake had just shot.

Good.

Now that he had a chance, Jake examined the girl. Her clothes were all ripped up, but he didn’t want to set things right since he was still a zombie, and probably covered with nasty bacteria.

She looked like she was in her late teens, maybe a college freshman or sophomore.

The girl was breathing shallowly, but luckily didn’t look like she had any serious injuries, just a scalp wound. She was wearing almost all black, and had a pentagram necklace. Her dark hair was shoulder length, and she wore little lacy glove things that didn’t look like they served any purpose other than decoration.

He decided she was probably pretty, but it was a little hard to tell in her state of disarray and having passed out. In his past life, Jake knew that his team’s tank, Landry, probably would have called her a “big tiddy goth chick.”

Jake really wished he could make her decent, but decided she’d probably rather be a bit exposed than covered in zombie yuck.

With that in mind, he decided to prepare for when she woke up. He hadn’t actually tried to communicate with a living person yet, and this might be a good chance to try. Jake fished a permanent marker out of his pocket and wrote a simple message on the wall of the box car.

Then he sat down to look less threatening and waited.

Chapter 11

The girl woke up about a half hour later.

While she’d been unconscious, Jake had considered doing something to keep her from jumping off the moving train, but decided he didn’t have the means or the will. If she was dumb enough to do something like that, she wouldn’t be his problem anymore.

At first, she blinked owlishly, put a hand to her head, and groaned. Then she turned and screamed when she saw Jake.

He pointed up, still holding the pen that he’d used to draw on the wall above his head. The girl screamed again, backing away and pushing herself as hard as she could against the opposite wall. Jake motioned once more with the pen-holding hand, his motions exaggerated.

Finally, she must have gotten the point because she kept screaming, but her eyes tracked the wall and she began to read.

If Jake looked up, he’d see what he’d written:

Hey goth chick,

Don’t be afraid. I know I look like a zombie, but I still have my mind.

I mean you no harm. If I’d wanted to hurt you, you were defenseless while you were unconscious after I carried you onto this train.

Anyway, my name is Jake M. I can’t really talk, only write (slowly), so be patient. Also, please notice I am sitting against the wall and being unthreatening.

If you ask me yes or no questions, I can nod or shake my head.

Thank you, and I’m glad you are alive.

The girl’s scream died down like it had just run out of steam, but she was still breathing hard. She gave Jake a new, unreadable look. “You wrote this?”

Jake nodded.

“Where have I heard this name before? Your name is Jake M?” She absently pulled her ruined clothes around herself and made some adjustments for the sake of modesty.

Jake nodded again.

“And you promise you won’t hurt me?”

He’d anticipated a question like this one, or asking where they were headed. So, after nodding, Jake moved his pen to his other hand. The motion made the girl jump. Then Jake very slowly, very deliberately, pointed to another message he’d written on the other side of his body. It read:

As best I can tell, we are heading east, and gradually north.

It’s dangerous to jump off the train until it slows down, but I’m not sure where it will stop.

While we are on this train, maybe I can help you.

I can actually sense a spark of magic in you. Do you know that you have the talent for magic?

“Magic?” the girl asked, her eyes round. “I won’t even pretend that I don’t think that sort of thing is possible... I mean, the world is ending. But seriously? What kind of zombie are you? Why should I believe any of this?”

Jake thought about that one for a while. Then without moving from his spot, he uncapped his pen, and wrote on the floor: Because I saved your life after you passed out, and I’m bored.

The girl licked her lips and bonelessly slid down the wall into a sitting position. “I can’t believe this is happening.” She rubbed her face with both hands and said, “So you saved me? Really?”

Jake nodded.

“You really can’t talk?”

“Mmmmrawr,” said Jake when he tried to tell her that it hadn’t worked so far.

“Fair enough.” She half laughed while grimacing. Then she suddenly looked startled and glanced around warily. “What about that asshole Alex and his friends?”

After thinking about how to most economically answer the question, Jake drew three circles on the wall next to him, then drew an “X” through two of them, and a question mark next to the last. After a brief hesitation, he also drew an “A” under the second crossed out circle.

“So Alex is dead?”

Jake nodded and withdrew his empty pistol. At the sight of it, the girl flinched back, so Jake slowly and gently set it down again. He hooked a thumb at himself.

“You killed him?”

He nodded. Then he held up his pen and went to work laboriously writing on the wall again. The new message read: Name? And are you calm now? We might be in here for a while, and I can probably get you started with magic while we wait.

“This is the strangest conversation I have ever had in my life, but hey, I guess I’m lucky to be alive, right? Fine, my name is Samantha.” She sighed deeply, ran a hand through her hair, and suddenly, her eyes widened. “Holy shit! Old Grim! You’re Old Grim!”

Jake didn’t need to be able to talk to convey his confusion. The way he frowned and cocked his head must have worked.

“You… you said your name is Jake M, right? Are you the same Jake M who left messages on message boards and stuff, and called yourself the leader of the Grasshopper Mice?” Jake didn’t even have to nod. Samantha must have recognized something in his expression because she continued, “Before the ‘net went down, people were talking like crazy about those posts! Jake M. They started calling you Old Grim after someone at a mobile park near my house took a picture of their door. They said a monster wrote them a message trying to help.”

This was all news to Jake, and very surprising.

He made a face and wrote: So people listened to what I had to say?

“Hell yes they did! Not everyone, but some people are saying you’re an angel, some people are saying you’re just a monster trying to trick them, or even the Devil. Basically, nobody could figure out who or what you are, but everyone agrees that everything you’ve written so far has been true, so they’re calling you Old Grim. It’s like a meme... sort of. A meme after all the memes died? A new legend? I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I’m more rattled than I thought.”

Jake put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. Not only was this turn of events odd, but he was also wondering how much the future was changing. Oh well, if fewer people were killed or went feral, it was all worth it.

Samantha crept closer. “So Old Grim... um... Jake... can you really teach me magic?”

Her reaction to recent events was definitely not normal. A few weeks ago, Samantha would likely have been totally terrified, barely functioning. After the Purple Rain, people either got tough or died. She was probably going to cry tonight, and she definitely had trauma, maybe for the rest of her life, but she was alive, and she was moving forward.

Jake liked this girl already. Maybe she could have been part of his team in the future if he’d met her then.

He nodded in answer to her question, and began drawing diagrams and instructions on the floor of the train. Before cultivating monster cores, it would have taken him much longer and likely would have been illegible. Luckily, Western magic was something Jake knew a lot about, and just getting started wasn’t too complicated as long as someone had the spark and some talent. In his first life, Jake had learned a lot of theory, but had never been particularly talented.

Just finding, and then using mana wasn’t exactly intuitive. Samantha made progress right away, though. She was obviously much more talented than Jake had ever been. In fact, she managed to find her inner spark in an astonishingly short amount of time.

“Seriously? That’s it?” she asked after about half an hour. She’d already manifested a flame in the palm of her hand.

After uncapping his pen again, Jake wrote + mana on the floor next to all of his other chicken scratch and mimed holding his hand out. Then he pointed outside the open boxcar door.

“So, I need to throw it?”

Jake shook his head. He put his hands together, then spread them apart, and held one palm out again.

“Oh, so I have to push more mana into it and hold my hand out?”

When Jake nodded that she was right, Samantha frowned in concentration, and the flame shot up toward the ceiling.

Jake frantically mimed holding his hand out, and Samantha copied the gesture just in time before her little fire had turned into a full-on flamethrower. This was a very simple spell, but Jake was still shocked that Samantha had picked up how to use magic so quickly, and that her flame pulse had manifested with so much power.

Fire shot out for twenty feet from the girl’s palm for at least three seconds.

That’s crazy, he thought. For a brand-new mage to create a flame that big and powerful on her first try? How talented is this girl?

Very good, he wrote. Practice that a little more, and you won’t need to worry about guys like Alex again. If you exhaust your mana, it will naturally grow, but the growth rate is not consistent.

“Wow!” she breathed. “I feel a little tired now, but I can’t believe I did that!” Then she read Jake’s newest message and made a face. “I get the feeling you aren’t sticking around, and I get it. You are a monster—no offense—so no matter how much you want to help, it’s not like you can really just... mingle.”

Jake didn’t take any offense at all.

After he nodded, Samantha continued, “Okay, so how am I going to learn more? Who will teach me?”

That was a very good question. Luckily, for the style of magic that Jake had begun teaching her, he had the answer. He jotted down the title and author of an old book, then wrote, find in a used book store, and circled it.

“This will help me?”

Jake circled it again. He wished he could talk, but she’d figure it out. The book he’d pointed her to was actually a fantasy book that had detailed descriptions of characters using magic. After Purple Rain, a number of adventurers had figured out that copying some of the techniques from that vintage fantasy book actually worked in real life. The author had been dead and gone, so the mystery of why the book contained real magical formulas had never been solved, at least not during Jake’s lifetime.

And considering Samantha’s talent, odds were that she’d figure out a few more ways to use her mana before ever even finding the book.

As Jake thought about the book, he noticed that the train had begun slowing down. He got up to look outside.

Even after all this time together, Samantha still flinched a little when he’d actually stood up, but settled down immediately afterwards. Jake pretended he hadn’t noticed and scanned the surrounding area. He thought he recognized some of the landmarks and buildings that he was seeing outside.

Using his pen, he wrote: You said people have read the stuff I put on the internet?

Samantha nodded. “That’s right. Nobody knew who or what you are, but you haven’t been wrong about anything yet. Imagine how people are gonna react when I tell them that Old Grim isn’t old at all, and he’s actually really nice, and has taken the form of a zombie!”

Jake wasn’t sure what to think of that. It seemed like there’d been a misunderstanding, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Most people didn’t have access to the internet or electrical power anymore in the United States, so Samantha’s weird take on this meeting ultimately didn’t matter.

In reply, he just wrote: So people got the part about using the Golden Arches? He actually didn’t spell out the last bit, just used a symbol.

“Yeah. On the message boards, they were saying it was genius. Those fast-food restaurants are practically everywhere, and easy to find.”

Good, thought Jake. In his past life, McRonald’s restaurants had served as a kind of a beacon and a hub for adventurers a few months after Purple Rain, and before the militaries had begun organizing. In his messages online, Jake had just explained what people should do and how to survive based on his experiences in his first life.

It seemed that enough people had seen what he’d written that hopefully they would begin organizing faster than during his first life.

Some powered people—mages, warriors, tech lords, and all the other varieties—would have known something was different with their bodies right after Purple Rain. Jake’s messages had instructed that everyone who’d been touched by power—basically, future adventurers—should meet up at the golden arches to coordinate and try to save their communities.

He’d suggested that martial artists, hunters, law enforcement, and military types with their own weapons could help out too.

Jake looked out the boxcar door again.

He would have breathed a sigh of relief if he actually breathed anymore. Yes, this was definitely Valdosta, an area he was at least somewhat familiar with. The train was slowing down even further, and Jake stuck his head out of the box car, trying to catch a glimpse of the part they were approaching. If he was right, the train should be going right by a couple of McRonald’s restaurants in just a few minutes.

Then Jake noticed a change that made him even feel optimistic—he couldn’t see any more random zombies wandering around, unlike most of the trip up until now. The train slowed down even further, a little faster than a run, and the businesses up ahead looked undamaged.

Yes! Jake thought. He could see people on rooftops with rifles, obviously coordinating with each other.

This was a community—not anarchy.

Jake bent down to write: You should get off here. The train is probably only slowing to avoid hitting people on the tracks.

Samantha crossed her arms, holding herself tightly. “Thank you, Old Grim... Jake. I think you’re right. Seriously though, thank you for everything. I would shake your hand or give you a hug, but you really look gross and you kind of smell.”

Jake shrugged and tried to chuckle, but it just came out as a gurgle.

“If we ever meet again, I just want you to know that Samantha Walsh owes you a favor. Hell, I owe you my life. Thank you.” She began to tear up, and almost like she was avoiding talking any more, she jumped off the train.

Jake watched her go with bittersweet feelings.

Strangely, he also felt a tickle in his memory. Where have I heard that name before?

Samantha rolled after she hit the gravel and cried out in pain. Jake was worried at first, but saw it was just a scrape. She’d be okay.

A couple of men yelled in concern and ran over to Samantha.

Jake searched his zombie brain for the connection. Have I heard that name? Samantha. Samantha Walsh…

As he puzzled over the name, he looked toward Samantha. It wasn’t until it was almost too late that he registered the cries of alarm. She was frantically waving her arms and shouting, “No. It’s okay!”

But one of the men was yelling and pointing at Jake. “Zombie!”

Someone else screamed, “That girl just escaped! Kill that thing!”

Jake ducked right before bullets whined through the boxcar. Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!

He knew the door would take too long to close and he’d be too exposed. Jake instead rolled over to one side of the car and plastered himself against the wall.

Apparently, the train’s conductor heard the gunfire, because Jake could tell by the vibrations as he lay on the floor that the train was speeding up again. A few more bullets left scars on the bottom of the car.

As Jake lay hiding, he tried to say, ‘No good deed goes unpunished, huh?’

Instead, what he actually said was, “Hunhhhhhn.”

I really, really hate being a zombie. Then it finally dawned on him where he’d heard Samantha’s name before, and who she likely was. No fucking way! he thought. No way!

In his first life, a woman named Samantha Walsh had been one of the Archmages, the most powerful magic slingers in the United States. He hadn’t recognized the name right away, because she’d most often been called by her nickname: Pixie Midnight.

Jake had never met her. Just seen her from a distance.

Did I just teach magic to Pixie Midnight?

Instead of worrying about it, Jake huddled in a corner. He hoped the train would speed up fast enough to escape from anyone with heroic ideas.

Being a zombie sucked, but being unarmed now made it even worse.

Maybe if he really had taught magic to Pixie Midnight, she’d save even more people than in his last life. The thought comforted him.

Chapter 12

Jake was eyeing the bullet wound on his arm, when he felt the train slowing down. It’d been about an hour or two since Samantha had disembarked. While his wound didn’t hurt, it was still annoying. He stuck his head out of the boxcar to figure out where he was, but he wasn’t familiar with the area. It’d been lucky that he’d recognized Valdosta before. After Purple Rain in his first life, he had been to Valdosta a few times. This place didn’t seem familiar at all, though.

Logically, since the train had been heading north, it was probably moving toward Atlanta, and likely near or through Macon. Jake wasn’t an expert on train tracks or train lines, but he was pretty sure about this. Train tracks and trains in general had become a common topic of conversation after Purple Rain among adventurers. They were used more than roads, sometimes.

Jake tapped a finger against the floor. The train had been moving at a good clip after leaving Valdosta, but it was definitely slowing down now. At first, he thought it could be stopping, but that didn’t seem to be the case. After hitting about thirty miles an hour or so, it didn’t slow down any more.

Jake remembered how the train had slowed through Valdosta. Maybe the upcoming town or city was large enough to justify slowing down while passing through, even during the apocalypse. It could also be a habit for the conductor, like they were still doing their job, following the rules. Jake had read somewhere that trains traveled through towns around thirty or forty miles an hour—a speed limit of sorts.

Now that nobody was shooting at him, and he didn’t see any people, this was all just a mild curiosity other than Jake being glad the train wasn’t stopping completely.

All of that changed when he suddenly felt something odd.

The sensation echoed through his dantian. If he hadn’t felt it once before in his life, he would have had no idea what it meant. Since he knew what it was, it meant he had to get the hell off this train soon, though.

He waited until he felt the wave through his dantian the strongest. The moment the sensation began to fade, he knew he was the closest he was going to get on the train. Jake clamped down his teeth to avoid losing his jaw if he fell wrong, wrapped his arms around his head, tucked his elbows in, and jumped off sideways as best he could.

In his first life, one of the adventurers he’d known, an ex-Army guy, had shown him how soldiers were supposed to land after jumping out of airplanes back in the day. The move—a “PLF”—had looked weird to Jake back then, but it had actually worked. He’d even used it while taking high falls a few times as an adventurer.

Jake tried it now as a zombie, and it was sort of a partial success. He didn’t break any limbs, but he was pretty sure he broke his tailbone, and if his blood had still been moving normally, he would have been bleeding from several places. A few little rocks got lodged into the bullet hole in his arm.

If he could feel properly, he’d be in horrendous pain. As it was, he was only distantly aware of the damage. Since he could still walk okay, Jake chalked it up as a win.

He felt a pang of sadness as he watched the train go by. It likely would have taken him directly to Macon, but then what? As a zombie with no weapons, he wasn’t much use to anyone. No, what he felt now in his dantian, the signal coming from this place would be sure to help if it didn’t kill him.

Jake was sure that he’d felt an Assessment Room, or as they would be known more commonly, a challenge portal.

A few wandering zombies turned to study Jake for a moment, but went back to shuffling. He didn’t register as human to them. Jake was sure he could attract them if he really wanted to, but he didn’t have any desire to do so. If he got boxed in by too many and they sensed his soul, or whatever it was that made monsters attack if they got too close, he’d be fucked.

Jake moved forward and looked around cautiously. It looked like he’d fallen out of the boxcar near a junkyard. Back the way he’d come, he saw an overpass, but that didn’t tell him much. He just mentally shrugged and began moving toward the sensation pulsing through his dantian, the pool of energy he’d created in his stomach area. Maybe one day, it’d be like a sea, or even the ocean, but right now, it was more like a dirty mud puddle.

There was a fence to Jake’s right and it looked like there was one on the other side of the passing train too. Maybe this was an industrial area. To both sides of the railroad tracks, there were large buildings and silos or something.

This area had not fared well after Purple Rain, at least based on the number of zombies that Jake saw. He saw signs of struggles and attempted exodus too. It was pretty common after Purple Rain for people to try escaping their location, after they’d seen the first person or two be murdered. Of course, there was no escaping. The entire world had been changed.

Jake needed to get through the fence, and climbing it as he was just wasn’t going to happen. He ambled forward until he came to a hole in the barrier where it looked like someone had driven right through it with a car. Bags of random household goods and trash were lying around near the hole.

After Jake caught a glimpse of an envelope in the trash, he bent and examined it. Tifton, Georgia, huh? Now he knew where he was, at least, but it still didn’t mean much to him. He’d heard the name before, but didn’t have any memories of spending time in Tifton in his first life. Maybe because, like this time around, there hadn’t really been much left.

He walked through the hole in the fence and wandered into a fairly open area, with large buildings and parking lots. Jake really wanted a better idea of where he was, so he picked up a large rock from the ground and moved toward a couple of parked cars. He needed to be quick. His appearance wouldn’t attract fellow zombies, but loud noises would.

Before he’d cultivated monster energy, Jake would have had a hard time breaking out a car’s window with a rock. Zombies were strong, not fast. He still barely managed. The hole wasn’t impressive, but was enough to clear enough glass to reach his arm through and unlock the Volkswagen.

Jake dug through the glove compartment and looked in the back seat. Then he popped the trunk. Nothing. He moved on to the next car, and like the last car, he tried the door handle first.

Yes!

The car door had been unlocked. He found a backpack inside, and then figured out where he was.

Georgia Department of Agriculture, huh? He was glad he’d solved the mystery, but didn’t feel great that whoever this car had belonged to was probably dead or turned into a monster by now.

Mystery solved, he began moving toward where his dantian was pulling him again. He was close now. Challenge portals could only be felt by someone with magical, enhanced, or supernatural abilities. In Jake’s first life, a few people who’d been augmented cybernetically had been able to find them too. But cyborgs that strong were rare. Challenge portals had been even more rare, and the rules for how long they stayed open always seemed arbitrary.

Some stayed open for a set amount of time, usually a day to a week. Some only admitted a certain number of people, usually anywhere from one to seven. Others seemed to show up and then close at random.

There were a few constants, though. The Faceted, the beings that ran the challenge portals, were not benevolent. After a few years of visiting challenge portals, adventurers had figured out the rules. Almost no time passed in the real world for as long as someone was in a c-portal. Time passed much more quickly inside. There were always three options of challenges that someone could choose. Each challenge would have a number of tests, from one to ten. The better a person performed with the tests, the better reward they would get. And while challenge portals couldn’t technically kill you, they could kick you back into the real world, half dead, or close to dying.

Most adventurers wouldn’t attempt a challenge portal without a team on standby, just in case. But Jake didn’t have the luxury, and the rewards and treasures that could be found in challenge portals were just too good to pass up this opportunity.

He finally found the portal at the far end of the parking lot, near an open gate to a road. Jake realized the road was connected to a highway or something, and kept that in mind along with the location of the junkyard he’d seen.

He could see the challenge portal now. It looked like a shimmering silver doorway. Jake screwed up his courage and stepped forward.

There was no flash, no sense of transition. He immediately found himself in what looked like a polished silver room.

The scene was a little nostalgic. Jake had been in two challenge portals in his first life, both of them before he’d really understood the rules or all the variations. He’d failed one, and barely succeeded in the second, which had resulted in contact information that had eventually led to meeting his cultivation teacher.

When Jake appeared, he immediately turned around. He knew the Faceted would be behind him, ready to startle him, probably because they were all assholes.

The creature looked like a man made of asymmetrical glass. When Faceted had first appeared in Jake’s past, they’d let people believe they were angels, but Jake knew they were nothing of the sort.

The creature seemed startled, if a humanoid with no face could be startled, and stepped back. It spoke directly into Jake’s mind. “Do not be afraid. You have been chosen, warrior, and have discovered an Assessment Room! Would you—” The Faceted stopped in mid-sentence and said, “How are you here, unclean thing? Begone!”

‘Fuck that, and fuck you,’ said Jake. He saw no need to be polite to a Faceted, but even as he spoke, he decided to dial it down a bit. As usual, his words came out as groans and grunts, but he was confident the alien would be able to understand him. The Morrigan had been able to talk to him just fine. Also, Jake remembered a report that one of these assholes had understood an adventurer whose throat was torn out when he’d forfeited a test. ‘I have a soul, and I am a warrior.’

The inscrutable Faceted studied him for a while. “It seems you truly do have a soul... vile, rotting thing that you are. You are also born of this world. Since you meet the requirements, so be it.

“This is an Assessment Room, where if you choose, you will be challenged on one aspect of mettle and can receive a reward based on how you are ranked. Ranking will take place in a way your species understands, from F to A, with S and even SS being possible for the mightiest or most talented. At rank S or SS, a second reward may be chosen from the highest tier rewards possible, and more rewards will be available to choose from than at lower rankings. Do you understand my words so far, warrior?”

‘Yes,’ said Jake.

“Good. Now, do you choose to be assessed with the challenge of combat?”

‘No.’

“Then you are choosing to return back to your world without being challenged? If you do, you may not return, for every soul may only visit each unique Assessment Room a single time.”

Jake grimaced the best smile he could. ‘No, I want you to quit fucking around and tell me all my options for the challenges I can choose.’

The Faceted was visibly taken aback, and again, this was conveyed despite the fact that it didn’t have a face. However, now two blue, glowing eyes had appeared in its cut-glass orb of a head. “Do you choose the challenge of combat?”

‘Did I stutter? No, I do not choose the challenge of combat. Now tell me what other challenges I can pick.’ Jake wasn’t backing down, and wouldn’t be intimidated. The Faceted were all dickheads and until adventurers had caught on that they could ask for more challenges, the strange aliens had always made it sound like the only test a person could take was the least favorable one for them. Who knew how many hopefuls these things had killed or maimed in Jake’s first life?

“How do you know there are more than one challenge available?”

‘That’s not relevant, is it? I am a warrior from this world. What challenges are available to take here?’

If the Faceted had teeth, it would have been grinding them.

Jake felt a bit of satisfaction, but he still wasn’t dumb enough to show off more of his knowledge. For instance, he wasn’t calling the Faceted by its species’ name, or letting this one know he actually knew its name. Quite a few Faceted had been investigated and divined by wizards over the years, and Jake had eaten up the information whenever he could find it. This one ran a very distinctive silver room, so Jake knew he was probably dealing with Gtata.

These things really were assholes.

“You may choose between a challenge of combat, a challenge of purity, and a challenge of endurance.”

Jake smiled as best he could. He’d had a suspicion this Faceted was Gtata, but now he knew. Because of this, he chose the obvious challenge. ‘I want the challenge of endurance.’

“So be it. For your first test, you must survive as long as you can without drowning.”

Without warning, Jake was transported in the air above a vast ocean. He fell, smashing into the water below. If he’d been alive, this might have been concerning. It definitely would have been surprising if Jake hadn’t been expecting it. But he’d read and memorized the accounts of every test that any adventurer had encountered in all the various challenge portals.

This lake trial was to test how long a person could survive without drowning. The end of the test would actually be when the examinee drowned—there was no way to win. Floating would work for a while, but not forever. The sky itself lowered during the entire test, eventually leaving no air above the water. It was all rigged. Of course, some people could still survive for days under water if they had to. They would likely get high marks in a test like this.

As soon as Jake hit the water, he just let himself sink. He was confident in the fact that each challenge was pretty straightforward. Challenges of combat wouldn’t combine challenges of morality, and challenges of endurance wouldn’t likely include combat. Of course, there were always ways to cheat in the various tests using other abilities, but this one would be easy for Jake.

Either way, he wasn’t worried about being attacked by a sea monster or something.

Jake was careful not to take in any water as he sank. He actually never reached a bottom, just slowed until he’d achieved neutral buoyancy. If he were still alive, it’d probably be freezing cold.

With nothing else to do but wait, Jake achieved a lotus position as best he could, touched his thumbs and fingers together, and began to meditate.

While he meditated, Jake circulated his energy, taking the opportunity to refine his recent gains. He didn’t have much to work with, but he could use what he had to widen his meridians too.

Jake stayed peripherally aware of what was going on in the world around him while he meditated and practiced his ki circulation. As a cultivator, he could keep perfect track of time, at least as his body experienced it.

When he felt the sky solidly press down into the ocean, he knew it had been three days.

Since this was basically free training time, Jake just mentally shrugged and went back to refining his energy and control. Since he wasn’t doing anything else, he occasionally took a break to review the information that he’d gotten from The Morrigan, trying to decide on a potential evolution path.

Some of what he learned was odd, even disappointing. For instance, certain monster forms were only available if he were to evolve under certain circumstances, or even on certain worlds. There were limitless monster variations in his head now, so he began to narrow down the routes he could take that would actually be possible on Earth, and with the resources that he had. For instance, one transformation would require triggering an evolution after he had just the right amount of energy, and had also somehow been covered in diamonds. Taking this route would be incredibly unlikely.

Jake started looking into the potential benefits and weaknesses of other forms he could evolve into. One thing he was placing a lot of importance on was the ability to communicate. He was getting really tired of being shot at without at least being able to yell: “I’m on your side, idiots!”

If people kept shooting after he could talk to them, Jake would feel a lot less bad if he had to kill them.

Finally, Jake found a truly god-rank evolution path, but it was going to be difficult. What was important was that it would allow him to attain a fast form relatively quickly to reach Macon and save his family. This path had evolution prerequisites he would actually be able to meet, and also had a lot of potential at the upper ends. After he evolved once or twice, it would take a lot of time and energy to reach any new forms, but that was a tradeoff that Jake was willing to take.

Jake checked the time again and was mildly surprised to see that over two weeks had passed. He was actually tempted to just stay under the water and train, but decided that even with how cold the water was, and his natural zombie protection against decay, staying longer might be pushing it. It wouldn’t have been a problem if his ki levels were higher. If he were at a more advanced level of cultivation, he might have been able to preserve his flesh or even cover it with a protective field, but he wasn’t strong enough yet. Oh well.

At least he’d had some time to analyze the knowledge he’d gained and earn some insights. Since his mind was made up, Jake deliberately opened his mouth and sucked water into his lungs, thereby “drowning.”

He was immediately transitioned back to the room he’d started in, and facial features or not, the Faceted seemed annoyed. Jake raised a hand with one finger, contracted his lungs, and forced most of the water out.

Above him, the Faceted said, “Congratulations on passing your first test. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to leave. After two months of not breathing, I could have just declared you dead and ejected you from the challenge.”

‘Thank you for your patience,’ was all Jake said in reply.

“Your next test is the poison and venom climb. You may give up at any time by saying out loud, ‘I forfeit.’ Good luck.”

Just like last time, there was no warning before Jake found himself in a large, sloping stone hallway. There was a blank wall behind him, and stairs leading upward. Magical torches that cast harsh white light lined the walls in intervals.

Jake had an idea of what to expect, so he started up right away. True to his predictions, after about ten minutes of climbing the stairs, he found himself in a large room. As soon as he stepped foot into the larger space, there was a whoosh of air and gas rushed in from the walls.

The room was at least two hundred yards long. Jake marveled at how nasty the design was. Someone would have to climb the steps, and would probably be winded, then the room was too long for most living fighters to hold their breath, especially with an elevated heart rate.

Of course, Jake didn’t breathe, so he just kept a steady pace forward.

Other than an exceptional constitution or being immune to poisons, he wondered how other adventurers might deal with this challenge. Maybe gusts of air, or an energy field? The entire time he walked, the gas grew thicker, eventually becoming a dense blue haze. But when he left the room and began climbing stairs again, the blue gas actually stayed below him in a pool. It seemed it had enough weight that it wouldn’t rise.

Jake realized why a moment later. This was probably so if someone triggered the trap and went back down the first set of stairs, the gas would follow them. Nasty.

The next room was a lot like the first, but with a longer room, and likely more potent gas. Something dripped from the ceiling too. None of it affected Jake.

Each room Jake came to was slightly different. In one, tentacles erupted from the walls, stinging him all over. This time, he grew somewhat concerned because the venom from the tentacles would burn him to a pile of goo if left to its own devices. As he walked, Jake circulated his ki, protecting his body for a short time.

When he’d left the room, Jake took a break to sit down and meditate. It took him a few hours, but he was eventually able to push almost all the venom out of his body. In fact, he was surprised to discover that his body was full of various poisons and venoms at this point.

This gave him an idea, and he settled more deeply, diving into his dantian, then moving his consciousness outward, actually attacking the poisons and venoms, trying to break them down and absorb them. Maybe he could cultivate them the same way he had cultivated demonic energy and monster cores.

As it turned out, his efforts were only partially successful. In fact, he didn’t get any new power from the poison, but he was able to use it to purify his energy, using it as a sort of filter that he used to carry impurities from his ki out of his body. He let one hand dangle, and rejected poison hissed and sizzled as it fell from his fingertip to the ground. The deadly liquid was stained black with its own deadly energy and the impurities he’d cleaned from his own energy.

When he was finally done, two days had passed. The time didn’t matter. Jake didn’t need to eat or drink, didn’t have a time limit, and time in the outside world passed much more slowly, hardly at all. He wasn’t worried.

Jake continued this way through at least ten more rooms.

After more than a week had passed, he found himself at a room that descended below the level of the floor. About an inch below the level Jake was standing, the room beyond was full of a sludge that he could feel evil, acidic energy from. He was sure the vile mixture would dissolve his body if he fell in or tried to wade, much less swim in it. The room’s ceiling came down to only two feet above the surface of the liquid about ten feet in front of him, which was obviously there to force whoever was being tested to move through the pool of death.

Jake sat for a while and considered. This room wasn’t too long, only about thirty to forty feet. He was tempted to just forfeit, but was also pretty sure he was almost to the end of the challenge. Maybe there was something he could do. Even though he didn’t have much energy in his dantian, what he had was fairly refined now.

In his past life, he’d reached the seventh Copper rank of Body Refinement. Right now, he judged himself to be at the first rank of Copper Body Refinement, not much past establishing his meridians and gathering his dantian, the basics of becoming a Dao Initiate.

However, Jake had a lot of experience with flash step. Instead of giving up, he moved back down the steps he’d taken, and focused, gathering his ki. Despite having so little to work with, the purity of his energy barely allowed him to form the required array in his mind to activate the ability.

Jake flash-stepped down the hallway.

He turned around, mentally measured how far he’d come, and decided he could barely make it across the acid if he timed the maneuver just right. If he’d been a new cultivator, he would have had no hope, but Jake had years of experience where he’d relied on flash step for dozens of dangerous missions. After all, flash step had been one of the only techniques his teacher had ever taught him before disappearing.

Jake turned around and moved to the top of the stairs again, eyeballing the pool of goo. He’d have one shot at this, and if he failed, he needed to immediately shout that he forfeited. Mental preparations ready, Jake pretended he was taking a deep breath and began gathering energy.

When he was holding all that he possibly could, he let himself fall forward. The moment his face was only about a foot above the acidic lake of death, he triggered a flash step.

A split second later, he fell onto a stony floor. The air he had in his lungs wheezed out like a popped bicycle tire. His flash step had almost carried ten feet past the edge of the pool, almost putting him face-first into the next set of stairs. Jake looked back at the obstacle he’d just cleared, and suddenly felt very stupid. That stunt really probably hadn’t been worth the risk.

But what was done was done, so Jake started walking up the steps again. It turned out that he had just passed the last room and the last challenge. At the very top of the long hallway of stairs was a set of double doors carved from granite.

Jake knew it was the end of the test, maybe even the end of the challenge, so he sat down again to meditate. A full day later, he felt like he’d rejected every atom of corruption from his body, and cleaned his energy as best that he could. He got up, dusted himself off, and opened the door.

Chapter 13

Gtata was waiting when Jake got back. “There is one more test,” the Faceted said, “but it is not necessary for you to take it. Since you are undead and can walk until your body can’t move anymore—and you don’t need to sleep—a test to see how long you can keep outpacing a walking-speed wall of destruction while the air thins and eventually disappears would be unnecessary.”

Jake didn’t say anything in reply. The Faceted studied him, like it was waiting for Jake to object. Maybe it was suspicious. Then again, it would be surprising if the alien didn’t suspect something odd was going on. For an undead creature to have a soul and a mind was probably strange enough to begin with.

Finally, after a very long pause, the Faceted said, “This event is unprecedented. Somehow you have achieved an S rank for this challenge. Now you may choose two different rewards. Please provide me with three keywords of the types of rewards you would like, and then the Assessment Room will display some appropriate options for you.”

Jake had been expecting this, and he knew that the Faceted had left out some small but important information. For one, Jake could give phrases, not just individual words. Also, being as specific as possible was much better than vague keywords like “survival,” “armor,” or “weapons.”

He also knew to be incredibly clear so the Faceted couldn’t try to fuck him over then claim it had been a misunderstanding.

‘My first keyword is Chaos Titan Ruins Realm.’ He’d chosen this keyword knowing that it was actually the next world higher than the one his cultivation master’s sect was located. ‘My second keyword is Unbound God of the Sword.’

Jake had heard his master mention that name with a tone of respect. His strategy was to give the most relevant, then the highest level, cultivation-related keywords that he could, which led him to the last keyword he had—his master’s sect itself.

‘And my last keyword is Divine Sect of the Martial Wandering Dragon God.’

The Faceted stood still for a moment and its pinpricks of light that could be its eyes didn’t move. It finally said, “Here is the first group of rewards that you may choose from.” The Faceted waved an arm and a number of globes appeared in the air, hovering in front of Jake. If he focused on any of them, he saw an image of the reward and a brief description of what it did. “What do you choose, unclean thing?”

Jake skimmed the rewards. Everything he saw was good. There were a few high quality enchanted swords, potions, medicinal pills, even a few technique scrolls. Some of the stuff was awesome, and even items he’d heard about but never actually seen in person before.

The problem was he had an idea for how good S-rank rewards were after reading so much about them in his past life.

He made a displeased sound. ‘I thought you said that if I reached the S rank, I would have better rewards made available to me. What rank of rewards are these?’

“This is the set of rewards available from rank F to A, all of them.”

‘Yes. And I can choose two rewards. You said there would be more choices, better ones at S rank, right?’

“These are the rewards available from rank F to A, creature.”

Jake felt a flash of irritated amusement. Well, that was evasive. The Faceted were still massive assholes, and true to form, this one was trying to fuck him over, keep him from choosing two of the best rewards. If Jake hadn’t known to challenge it, the Faceted could technically, truthfully say that Jake had chosen a lower tier reward of his own free will. ‘I would like to see all the rewards that I am eligible for now, please. Actually, I only want to see the S-ranked ones.’

He was sure he could hear the alien’s voice grating as it said, “Understood. These are all the S-rank rewards that the Room has pulled from its pool of possibilities based on the keywords that you gave.”

Jake browsed dozens of options at the higher level, all of them seeming more amazing than the last. This is more like it.

Seeds of the Forest Warriors. Plant these seeds in ground soaked in blood to create a silent, deadly army. The warriors will grow more powerful over time under a number of conditions.

Staff of the Monkey King, degraded copy. Indestructible staff with secret properties that change based on the user.

There were plenty more. Bisected Sword. Gloves of Forest Night. Headband of the Thought Demon’s Third Eye.

Every treasure would be amazing. But some were better than others for Jake’s current undead form, and some would be a gamble. He kept going down the list until he found something to help him as he was right now, and that would be useful far into the future.

Endless Storage Ring, Spirit-Bound. A storage ring with higher-than-average capacity. Once worn, enters the dantian for safekeeping, but can still be used as normal.

Wow, Jake thought. He’d never even seen a storage ring before, only having heard about them from his teacher. As far as he knew, there’d never even been one on Earth. On top of that, this one would actually become a part of him, not remain a piece of jewelry. Some of the advantages to that were obvious.

The ring was definitely going to be one choice.

He found his second choice a few entries later, and when his eyes landed on it, if he’d still been alive, his mouth would have gone dry.

Skill Scroll: Dark Wanderer’s Trinity. A skill scroll thought to be lost ages ago—the original trio of skills developed by the Transcendental Wanderer. These abilities have spawned many copies and schools ever since, but this is the original.

An amazing skill scroll!

There’d been other skill scrolls among the lesser loot, but this was the only one in the high tier rewards, and it even had three techniques!

‘I want the Spirit-Bound Storage Ring, and Dark Wanderer’s Trinity skill scroll.’

“Very well. Now you may leave the assessment room. Congratulations on your prizes.”

‘Wait, do—'

Jake’s words were cut off as his vision spiraled. The next thing he knew, he was standing in a parking lot again.

Two items lay at his feet: a plain-looking iron ring, and an ornate scroll that had such a profound aura, he thought he might have been able to feel it even before becoming a cultivator.

He didn’t waste time just staring at his loot. After bending to pick them up, he put on the ring and was not too surprised when it seemed to vanish almost immediately. He felt it settle in his dantian in a really interesting way and made a mental note to examine it later.

Jake put the scroll inside so that he could look at it later. How one would go about putting things into the ring and then take them out again were obvious to him. Probably because he’d already taken his first steps into cultivation again. The method was stranger than he was expecting, however.

He looked to the sky, then around him. Jake knew that very little time had passed in the real world, no matter how much time he’d spent in the challenge room.

Time to get the hell out of here, he thought, and began walking. One of the things he’d done while meditating in the challenge room ocean was come up with a plan to increase his cultivation. It would be so much easier now, with his new storage ring.

He moved toward the biggest road he could see. There had to be a gas station nearby.

That would be the first step of his plan.

* * *

It turned out that there was actually a gas station right up the road, heading away from the railroad tracks. He found a street sign: US 41. But walking all the way to the gas station—well, more like half-shuffling—was stressful. There were crashed cars, dead (double dead) zombies on the shoulder, and a few half-eaten bodies. Smoke from scattered fires were all over the place on the horizon.

At some point over the last couple days, there’d some violence for sure.

Jake just had to hope that some trigger-happy survivor out there wasn’t going to take his head off. He looked, sounded, and probably even smelled like a real zombie now, so he wasn’t even sure he would blame them.

He made it across the street without any problems. A few distant zombies ignored him, and were far enough away that they would not be a threat. Part of him wished he had the time to look at his new skill scroll, but what he really wanted was to stop being so defenseless. Realistically, as long as he was still a zombie, he was going to be at a massive disadvantage in this new world.

He needed to kill monsters.

A lot of them.

The front of the gas station was busted out. There were two bodies outside, but blood was on the ground everywhere. After whatever violence had happened here, some monsters had likely dragged the other bodies away to eat them.

Parts of Georgia had been visited by hurricanes in the past. But before or during a hurricane, people would have been after different things and would have had more time to buy everything at the gas stations and grocery stores. But the way the world had changed so suddenly after the Purple Rain hadn’t given anyone in the world any prior warning. As a result, most looting had taken place out of fear, and millions of people who hadn’t understood the nature of the monster threat had been killed.

This location looked like people had started looting, and then had been attacked by monsters in the act.

Luckily for Jake, it looked like the place still had everything he needed. First, he brought every gas container he could find out to the pumps.

It took him a while to figure out how he might actually be able to get the gas into the cans. Power was out, but this gas station had some sort of backup, at least he thought so. He tried to locate a switch behind the counter that would let him turn on one of the pumps.

Jake spent a while poking around but eventually gave up. There was likely some sort of backup power, but he didn’t know where it was, and he wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. If it was a generator, it’d be noisy too. He had a feeling that if he stayed out in the open by a highway too long, he would be far less likely to survive long enough to put his plan into action.

There was no handy lake in this area to escape into.

When he’d searched the gas station, he’d found some keys under the counter. One of them unlocked a port outside used by the fill trucks. Jake then found a rubber replacement hose in the back room and shambled back outside.

He really wished that he had a pump. There was probably some clever way to get gas up to where he was to fill containers, but he couldn’t figure it out.

His specialty had been magic study, cultivation, and killing monsters, not siphoning.

For once, he found his deadened senses helpful.

Jake lowered the hose into the hole and sucked up a mouthful, a stomach full, maybe even a lungful of gas. Then he vomited all of it into a gas can. The process was slow and disgusting, probably bad for the gas too. He didn’t need the stuff to stay super pure, though.

After each gas can was full, he put it into his storage ring. Then, after he ran out of purpose-made gas cans, he emptied out cleaning products in the parking lot and used their bottles. After that, he used two-liter bottles of soda. Then water bottles.

When all was said and done, he had hundreds of gallons of gasoline in his storage ring. His clothing was covered in gas from the process.

If anyone threw a match at him at that moment, he would have been a goner.

Jake avoided as much broken glass as he could to avoid making too much noise and visited the gutted gas station one more time. He hunted around, looking for any more items that might be of use later, tossing them into his storage ring. One item that was crucial to his plan was so perfect, it even made him try to form a smile. He didn’t think he’d pulled the expression off very well, but Jake didn’t care.

Now it was time to go monster hunting.

* * *

At this point, he feared humans with weapons—or newly-wakened abilities—more than zombies. As soon as he moved off the larger road, he immediately felt safer.

Deep down, he knew the feeling of security was probably an illusion. If any humans fighting back against the monster invasion saw him, he’d be toast.

This soon after Purple Rain, ghouls were the most dangerous monsters that would be commonly encountered, but they completely ignored Jake. He was just another monster.

In fact, he was a zombie covered in gasoline.

He walked into a nearby muddy river or creek to clean most of the gas off of his clothing and skin. Since his plan included fire, he didn’t want to accidentally turn himself into a Jake-torch. He wandered around a bit after that, getting his bearings and figuring out where he could set his plan in motion.

Tifton, Georgia, seemed to be a mid-sized town. Jake didn’t see a lot of movement. People had probably already fled or were laying low. Jake could just imagine people aiming rifles at him from distant rooftops and deciding not to waste bullets on a random zombie.

He moved south for a while, but wasn’t finding what he was looking for. Most of this part of Tifton seemed to be industrial in nature, or office buildings. Jake doubled back, returning toward where he’d come from. At one point, he spotted an abandoned motorized wheelchair and briefly considered using it to move around quicker, but decided against it. Especially while he couldn’t talk, drawing attention to himself like that would not be wise.

His exploration finally took him right back to where he’d started, through the parking lot of the Georgia Department of Agriculture and back to the railroad tracks. He headed north for a bit before stopping and turning in a full circle, taking in the houses he could see now.

This is it.

If his luck held out, he wouldn’t get shot and would be able to accomplish his goal while also helping the survivors in this area.

He just wished he wasn’t so damned slow. Thank God for his fledgling cultivation base or he’d really be screwed.

Jake’s understanding was that he was still on the edge of town—he hadn’t gone through a downtown area or anything like that before getting off the train. The wandering zombies would continue to ignore him with any luck.

He hoped he wouldn’t run into any people either. Maybe they’d gone to the center of town or a different area.

Still, whether people shot at him or his monster-hunting plan worked out, he needed weapons.

Jake took a left on East Golden Road and mentally cringed about being out in the open again. There were a lot of zombies milling around in this area, far more than the industrial area he’d just come from. Jake spotted at least five of them as he moved down the street.

When he’d reached a promising-looking side street, he turned right, moving deeper into the residential area. What he was looking for was his future killing ground. He needed a fenced yard that wasn’t too small, and wasn’t too large.

Of course, everything hinged on one of his natural zombie abilities. He hadn’t used it yet, but he had to have faith that it would work. Jake didn’t want to call any extra attention to himself until he’d had a chance to set his trap.

Finally, Jake found a little yard with a chain link fence that would probably be perfect.

The front door was ajar.

Jake moved up to the door and knocked. He almost tried to say “anyone home?” but knew it would just come out as moans. It wasn’t worth trying to speak. Besides, in the middle of the end of the world, with monsters roaming the streets, a house with an open door was probably a good indicator that there weren’t any survivors inside.

He cautiously moved inside and found the body of an old woman in the living room. A zombie was eating her hand. The zombie, an eviscerated teen girl, looked up but then quickly got back to her grisly meal.

Jake had been dismissed.

Killing the zombie would be difficult in his current state without any proper weapons, so he ignored it and moved deeper into the house. The little rambler had a few rooms off a central hallway, and he inspected them all, looting, throwing anything of value or interest into his storage ring.

When he reached the last door, he saw the pictures on the walls and realized it had been a man’s office, maybe the husband of the dead woman being eaten in the other room. One wall had been decorated with framed pictures of old warships and planes. Plaques on another wall made Jake think the man had been a retired Navy soldier.

He found a .38 revolver and half a box of bullets in one of the desk’s drawers. It took him a while to fumble loading the weapon, but he managed. The pistol went into his pocket, and the ammo went into a different one.

Being armed again felt nice.

But the real treasure was the room’s sword collection. A weapon rack stood against one wall below displays full of American Civil War memorabilia. Next to an old musket were a few sabers. Jake knew how to use a saber. In fact, he might even be considered an expert. Ironically, he’d begun carrying a saber because they were one of the most common types of real swords that scavengers might find and then sell on the market, so quality blades were cheaper.

But despite being adept at using one, he only had a passing knowledge of how to classify antiques. Some of the swords in this room looked like American Civil War sabers, which made sense given the displays on the wall. But there were a few that looked older, or maybe even newer. Reproductions, maybe?

Jake put all the swords into his storage ring, only pausing to examine the last one. After a closer look, he was sure that it was a custom-made modern. It looked like it’d been made extremely well indeed. There was even a maker’s mark that he didn’t recognize.

He was in Georgia, so finding old weapons in a random house wasn’t that unlikely, but he’d still been lucky to stumble upon such a treasure trove, especially in a relatively humble home. Jake was tempted to go through the rest of the house, looking for guns or more ammo, but decided not to.

He had a lot of work to do, and he wanted to be done before night fell.

At the end of the day, even if he found more ammo or guns, he’d still be a zombie. That fact needed to change or he wasn’t likely to survive much longer, much less be of any help to his family.

Jake turned and solemnly saluted the chair behind the room’s desk. He didn’t know whether the man who’d used this office was still living or dead, but Jake would be eternally grateful for his new weapons either way. If he ever met this man, he’d return everything and pay what he could. For now, the least he could do was keep the corpse in the home from being desecrated any further.

He held the salute, and the moment felt long and heavy. Jake was determined to show what respect he could, and refused to feel silly about it. After saluting, he also bowed for good measure. Then he left the house, ready to start building his trap.

Chapter 14

Jake had planned to kill the mindless zombie in the house right away, but decided to be a little more cautious once he was out in the living room again. With a pistol in hand, he remembered how noisy the shot would be. He moved around the house, closing all the doors and windows before approaching the feeding monster and putting a bullet through the back of its skull.

Unfortunately, no core manifested. Dammit. Cores were what he really needed now. As long as he was stuck as a zombie, he wouldn’t really be able to use his swords, couldn’t escape dangerous situations, and would basically stay a sitting duck. The more time passed, the more the survivors would get their shit together and start exterminating zombies.

Running out of bullets wouldn’t be a concern for most of America for a while, especially after people started manifesting supernatural powers. A family that had a beast-transformer wouldn’t have a problem getting food with or without firearms. Someone with that power could literally just run game down.

His gunshot had rattled the windows. He knew it was only a matter of time before the noise attracted enough zombies to be a problem, but that was actually part of the plan now. It just meant his job would be easier as soon as he got everything else that he would need.

Jake explored the house further and got lucky again. He needed to make a lot of noise soon. His plan had originally been to bang some pots together, but in one closet of the house, he found a real, old school, honest-to-God boombox. The kind that ran on big D-cell batteries. This one had some juice, and the cassette tape inside was Backstreet Boys’ The Hits – Chapter One.

He decided to roll with it.

Zombies were already beginning to mill around outside the house, so Jake would have to be fast to take advantage of this.

After putting the boom box in his storage ring along with some more handy items he’d found in the house, he moved outside. He began emptying gas cans from his storage ring, soaking the yard with gasoline, paying special attention to the areas near the fence. A few zombies wandered around outside, searching for the source of the noise he’d just made with his newly acquired revolver. Luckily, none came close enough to feel his soul.

Once soaking the yard was done to his satisfaction, he examined his handiwork. He was ready, or at least as ready as he would ever be.

If there were humans around, it would complicate things. The fact that there only seemed to be monsters present was lucky. This really was kind of an ideal sort of place to try a plan this crazy.

Jake opened the gate to the front of the yard, and at the back. He didn’t normally breathe, but took a deep breath for dramatic effect before moving to the street. It only took a few second to rewind the tape all the way. Then he lifted the boom box to his shoulder, turned it on, and started playing, “I Want it That Way.”

He cranked up the sound to max.

Zombies moaned everywhere, signaling an alert. Jake walked as fast as he could. The 90’s era pop being blasted from his shoulder would definitely grab a lot of undead attention in this neighborhood. He just needed to make sure that none of them got too close.

Running zombies would exist in the future, and there were likely even a few now, but they’d be rare. Right now, Jake couldn’t really run, and he wasn’t as fast as he would be if he were still alive. Luckily, he’d begun his strange, monster-based cultivation path. He was just fast enough to stay ahead of the growing horde.

By the time “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” started playing, he had a large crowd of zombies following him, shuffling as fast as they could. He counted at least two dozen, maybe three.

Jake kept an eye on his surroundings. He couldn’t afford to be boxed in, and any zombies that got too close might moan a different alarm. Even though the zombies were following him, they weren’t trying to actually trap him... yet. As long as they just continued to follow, his plan would keep working. Everything would be many, many times harder if the zombies were in kill mode.

Then he saw the first-level zombie goliath.

In his first life when he’d led the Grasshopper Mice, Landry had called them Voltron zombies. Zombie goliaths were made up of several bodies, all melted and twisted together to create a zombie giant. First-level goliaths were made up of around three to seven corpses. This one looked like it had material from six, making it a larger first-level goliath.

If it were fully visible, Jake knew it wouldn’t look like it could walk very fast, but he also knew that could be deceptive. Goliath zombies were capable of moving in spurts of quick, destructive power. Their normal cruising speed was low, but each limb was longer, bigger than a normal human—sometimes made up of an entire body. They were several times faster than a normal zombie, and could even step directly over obstacles like fences.

Jake immediately killed the Backstreet Boys’ song. Now he knew at least one reason why this part of town looked to have been totally abandoned. A zombie goliath was hard to kill with conventional weapons, even for a coordinated group with a plan.

This one had been wandering close to the noise Jake was making, but hadn’t quite pinpointed him yet. Probably because it wasn’t sensing anything living. Jake was just another zombie.

He kept moving. Jake had made a loop and was a little more than halfway back to the trap he’d set. Maybe he could still make this work.

Jake slowed down and tried acting like just another zombie. One that just happened to be carrying a boombox on his shoulder. His nerves were frayed by the time he made it back to the yard he’d soaked in gasoline.

After a moment of thought, he stowed the boombox and added some more gas around the yard. With a heavy heart, he even splashed a few gallons on the house, then a few surrounding houses too.

The zombie goliath was a danger and an opportunity wrapped into one.

Once he thought he was going to be as ready as he’d ever be, he moved back the way he’d come. This step was close to what he’d planned to do before, but he was just getting more of a head start and making the trap bigger now.

Jake took the boombox out of his storage ring and turned it on again. Before long, “As Long As You Love Me” began playing, and all the zombies within earshot changed the pitch of their moans. He immediately spotted movement above a nearby roof down the block as the zombie goliath began to ponderously turn. The zombies that had been on the street or nearby were already wandering closer.

All the zombies in the immediate area had moved to one side of his trap now, so he would keep the back gate open. Jake crossed the yard, closed the other gate, secured it, and used some wire to bind it shut. Then he put the boombox in some bushes a few feet away from the outside of the fence. He needed it far enough away to attract the zombies as long as possible, but close enough that when he sprang the trap, the boombox would die relatively quickly.

One curious thing about zombies was how they only seemed to have survival instincts while actively hunting. Right now, the state the zombies were in was high alert, but not exactly hunting. They hadn’t smelled or seen any of the living yet. In this state, they would happily just stand in a fire. Zombies were one of the only monsters that could behave so differently situationally. Granted, some monsters could be incredibly unpredictable; zombies were very predictable, just... weird.

The first few zombies had already shuffled into the yard before the first-level goliath was obviously approaching, which was lucky. Jake kept slowly moving away. He walked across the street, in the shadow of a porch where his gasoline trail ended—the end of his makeshift fuse.

The trap yard was full of zombies now. They tried moving toward the sound of the boombox. Some were jammed up against the fence. If they were actively hunting, they would have been struggling to get over or through the basic fence, but they weren’t. Instead, they just kept moaning and shuffling around, packing tighter and tighter against the side of the fence nearest to the music.

Then the zombie goliath was only a few steps away. Jake took a barbeque lighter out of his storage ring. A normal lighter would have been too hard to use as a zombie, but this one just required pulling the trigger. Jake waited until right before the massive zombie was actually about to enter the yard before bending down to light the gasoline trail.

A line of fire sped across the street to the trap location, but Jake didn’t wait around to watch. This was going to be a big fire, and he had enough experience with big fires in his former life to know what to expect. A large enough fire had enough heat to fry you even if you were far away.

When he’d poured gasoline everywhere, he'd also managed to spill some on himself and he really didn't want to turn into an undead torch.

He glanced back while he was making his exit, and grinned as best he could. The boombox wasn’t working anymore, and all the monsters in the yard were just standing there, even the giant goliath zombie.

Now he just had to wait.

It seemed a shame he would have to wait so long for the fire to do its thing, but there was no helping it. Jake didn’t have to completely waste time, though. He wandered until he found a house with a pool. The little half-fence around it was unlocked. He grabbed a couple of bricks from the garden before slipping into the deep end of the pool as quietly as possible.

After he was in the water, he placed the bricks on his lap, assumed a cross-legged sitting position, and began to meditate. He cycled his energy, working on strengthening his fledgling meridians. The work was slow, and if he’d been alive, it would have been agonizing. This technique had been a secret his master had taught him. It was dangerous, and had been one of the only reasons he’d been able to practice cultivation despite how he’d polluted his spirit using different kinds of power.

What he was doing now, using the cycling technique his master had taught him long ago, was only supposed to be done for a few seconds at a time. Even then it could make a cultivating practitioner bleed from the eyes and ears, or even rupture their organs. Four Winds of Heaven Spirit Purification was not for the faint of heart. Jake had only managed to use it for ten seconds a day before when he’d been alive, and it got harder every second it was practiced. A full fifteen seconds might have killed him.

But now Jake was dead and didn’t need to worry about any of that.

He kept cycling and didn’t even feel any pain.

Jake had learned three cycling techniques from his master, and he’d only ever been able to use two of them. He’d never even been able to try the third—his foundation hadn’t been strong enough. He’d been stuck using the Luster of Jade technique most of the time, and had barely ever touched the Four Winds Spirit Purification technique. He’d assumed he might have never been able to use the Heavenly Dragon Defiance cultivation technique. In fact, his teacher had even told him that the Heavenly Dragon Defiance technique would probably be beyond him forever. When Jake had asked why he’d had to learn it, his master had smacked him on the forehead. That had been his only answer. Maybe his master had seen the future and knew that one day Jake might need it. But it was also possible the old man had just been random and unpleasant.

At the bottom of the pool, Jake felt the power of the Heavenly Four Winds Purification. It was completely different being able to cultivate this way for a significant amount of time versus only ten seconds.

When he reached a good place to stop meditating, he hadn’t gotten any stronger, but knew he had prepared his body to harness future energy exponentially better. He dumped the bricks off of his lap. When he walked out of the pool, he realized there’d been another benefit as well—he could move easier now, almost as well as a normal human man.

Wow. How well would this work if he could move normally to begin with? He marveled at his new physical abilities, and felt even more shocked when he realized that he could feel a little bit of the supernatural senses he’d begun to manifest in his first life. How is this possible so quickly? he wondered.

What the hell was this cycling technique that his teacher had taught him?

* * *

The entire block was a smoking wreck. A few fires still burned. Jake’s conscience ached. Even if everyone in this neighborhood had died, he’d never feel good about destroying the memories and homes of others.

It seemed the fire had spread too. He’d only planned to torch a few houses, but at least a dozen had been destroyed, probably more like twice that.

As he walked down the street, the smoke would have choked him or even made him pass out if he still had to breathe. He arrived at ground zero, where he’d set his trap, and shook his head. He’d destroyed the one zombie in the house with the sword collection out of respect for the man who’d left it there, but then he’d turned and wrecked the entire neighborhood.

His newly awakened spiritual sense allowed him to locate all of the monster cores in the ash and rubble. He felt a strange resonance in his spirit that he’d never experienced before, even in his past life, when he’d had a stronger cultivation base. Though he’d never experienced it personally, he knew what it had to be. He’d witnessed his teacher use a form of levitation and he’d described it like this.

The sound of distant engines was faint, but growing louder. He figured that people had come to investigate the big-assed fire that had just sprung up in Tifton monster central. This meant he needed to get the hell out of Dodge—fast.

Jake flexed his new senses, and monster cores rose out of the rubble, rushing toward him like bits of waste circling a drain. He opened his ring and deposited all of the cores inside. Counting them all could wait until later.

He turned and moved away at top speed, even triggering a flash step. Sounds of engines, and even gunfire, were getting louder now. The zombies were probably slowing down whoever was coming, but that would make Jake more of a target too. Lying down by the side of the road and acting double dead wasn't even an option. Just like the horror movie staple, real zombies played dead sometimes to ambush the living. These survivors likely wouldn't just pass him by.

Jake triggered another flash step and barely caught himself at the end of it before being dumped forward onto his face. He moaned a curse. The pool he'd hung out in before was in a dangerous direction. Hiding in water seemed Jake's easiest, most logical option to stay hidden, though. He needed to find a new place to lay low.

* * *

Jake fled the burning neighborhood until he found a retention pond. Perfect, he thought. It seemed like since he'd become a zombie, he'd ended up hiding in water a lot. In this case, the water didn’t only offer protection, but would make the next step in his plan easier.

The muddy, dirty pond wasn't very deep, but it would work. Luckily, sitting a certain way while cycling wasn't necessary, just made it easier, helping to center the mind.

Once he was in the middle of the pond, he sat and dug his hands into the mud to anchor himself. He lay back in the water, letting it completely cover and hide him. And finally, having achieved at least some small measure of security, he checked on the monster cores he'd scored.

Wow! He had scored two dozen normal zombie cores, the goliath zombie core, and even somehow got a ghoul core! One must have been lurking or feeding in one of the surrounding houses.

This changed everything. All of Jake's meticulous advancement planning was obsolete now.

Jake carefully examined the cores in his storage ring again and shook his head. He had a choice to make.

If he went with his original plan, he could use up his zombie cores and begin an advancement path that would eventually change him to a half-zombie, which was basically a human who was immune to zombie bites, and a few other quirks. Given enough more time and work, this route would lead to being more or less human again.

And being human again would be great, not least of which because it’d be a great way to show Ahriman that he can go fuck himself. But what if it wasn’t his best option? Not only would being more or less human not actually get him to Macon faster than another alternative, what if by being human again, he’d possibly be screwing himself? Ahriman aside, the fact that he could actually use the Four Winds of Heaven Purification cycling technique now was kind of a big deal, and it was only because he was undead that he was able to do it without destroying himself.

After another quick look at the info in his head, he learned a few things. There was not really any data on exactly what would happen if he were to evolve with his current mix of cores. There was data for evolutions using ghoul cores, but not a goliath zombie core, at least not directly from a basic-level zombie.

He wished he had more time to make a decision, but he was running out of time to save his family.

After giving the matter a little more thought and making an educated guess about where a new evolution path might lead, he mentally shrugged and made a decision. All but one of his zombie cores were going to be used to drive himself deeper and forward. But he was saving one zombie core, one ghoul core, and the goliath core to use all at once for his first evolution, going “higher.”

Jake took one of the zombie cores out of his storage ring, popped it into his mouth, and got to work.

Chapter 15

Jake wasn’t sure how long he took to process all of his monster cores. He built his meridians, cycling his energy, built the puddle of energy in his dantian into a pool, and then, finally, pushed for evolution.

The entire process felt like an extremely long, vivid dream. Jake’s mind split during the process, and part of his consciousness watched as the information The Morrigan had gifted him actually changed.

For this reason, he knew exactly what he was evolving into.

Because of his old master in cultivation, Jake understood how at higher levels of orthodox cultivation, the body, and in some cases, the mind or spirit, would reject impurities. But in Jake’s case, he actually felt his body suck up various elements and impurities from the mud puddle he was lying in.

Motor oil mingled with his flesh. Traces of asphalt strengthened his bone. His senses probed the lazily swirling water around his body, and he felt the incredible soup of elements that were making his current evolution possible.

He suddenly knew things now, like the fact that Tifton, Georgia, had been established in the late 1800s.

The puddle he was lying in hadn’t existed in its current form for very long compared to the entire history of the city, but it’d been there a while. Blood from accidents, dead animals, saliva from the innocent—and from murderers—cigarettes that had been thrown out of windows… Traces of all of it had settled in this retention pond over time.

Finally, when Jake knew the process was finished, he slowly sat up in the water and saw the world for the first time out of new eyes. It was night time, but he could see perfectly, all the colors vivid, the shadows warm and inviting.

Jake was no longer a zombie.

He was a shadow ghoul, and for all he knew, he was the first of his kind. No other entries of “shadow ghoul” existed in the data that The Morrigan had given him.

As a monster, Jake instinctively knew his abilities and some of his limitations. He was a bit smaller than a normal ghoul, about the same size he’d been as a human. As a shadow ghoul, he was not quite as strong as the standard variety. Jake was still much stronger than a human being now, though. He had much better sight than a standard ghoul, which meant that he had close to standard human vision during the day.

Unlike a normal ghoul, he could not regenerate his body nearly as quickly.

But now he could smell better, hear better, and even taste the air. His senses were far, far better than the average ghoul’s, and he could “phase.” For about two seconds, every couple of minutes, Jake could actually move sideways... Like between dimensions. He didn’t know how it worked, but it did.

Jake could move fast, and even supply himself energy by eating.

He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror yet, but knew how he’d look, though. The knowledge was…part of him. Regular ghouls were frightening-looking, demonic, but Jake was downright disturbing now. His body gave off a thin black smoke. Curling horns grew from his head, sweeping backward like a parody of slicked-back hair. His teeth and claws were silver. Blue eyes glowed in deep-set sockets.

His claws were going to be a problem. They were probably great for ripping and tearing, but not so good for opening a door knob or holding a pistol.

He scanned the area and didn’t see anyone around, no monsters either other than a couple of zombies in the distance. They ignored him, just like when he’d been a zombie himself.

Jake left the retention pond, his wet clothing weeping filthy water once he was up on the bank. He moved experimentally and mentally shook his head. His body wasn’t packed with massive, solid muscles like a normal ghoul, but he still had a lot of power.

Air whistled around his claws as he took practice swings.

He walked forward, moving with pantherine grace. A flash step later and he was right behind one of the nearby zombies. He dropped forward onto one bent knee, his arm flashing in a crane’s wing strike that he’d practiced thousands of times in his first life, but this time with claws.

The zombie’s head flew off before it’d even registered Jake’s presence.

Jake smiled. He could only imagine what he looked like. If his old team had seen what he looked like now, Landry might have pissed himself.

He held up one hand, experimentally wiggling his claws. They truly were excellent weapons, but he was right that they’d get in the way later on. Maybe he could do something about it, though.

Jake took off at an easy run, moving faster than a normal human could sprint. He didn’t feel tired. The only way he could tell that he was exerting himself was a sudden need to actually breathe, and a feeling like he was losing energy. If he kept up this sort of pace, he would eventually need to eat.

There were a few things to do now, like find a workshop to modify his claws, but Jake was feeling good. He was no longer all but defenseless. In fact, through some good fortune, he’d manage to jump up in power quite a bit.

Sure, he looked demonic now, and he still couldn’t speak very well. His mouth wasn’t really made for it. But he was now individually more powerful than he ever had been in his past life.

And it felt great not to be a zombie anymore.

He wasn’t exactly sure where he’d fit power level-wise, at least as he understood them from his previous life.

He’d been a Copper-level Body Refinement cultivator before he’d died... maybe. Something strange had happened in the demon world he’d been trapped in, now that he thought about it. Maybe he’d actually reached a Reforged body, but so strangely, he hadn’t noticed.

Normally in orthodox cultivation, an immortal would progress through Dao Expert, which was basically just forming a dantian and creating strong meridians, then starting the long journey of Body Refinement. Ten stages of Copper, Silver, and Gold Body Refinement were the steps necessary before reaching a reforged body. After that, an immortal practitioner would begin working on their foundation pillars, crystallizing the chi sea in their dantian.

From Silver One level of the Body Refinement Stage, to a full reforged body was around adventurer rank seven to rank ten, as best as Jake figured. This was also around the power level of a C-rank monster.

Jake was definitely a C-rank monster now, there was no doubt. He felt like he was probably somewhere in the mid-Silver of the Body Refinement Stage. Maybe he wasn’t stronger than he had been in his first life. The time he’d survived in Ahriman’s hell world was kind of a blur.

This new form of cultivation was strange, but he wasn’t complaining. He’d jumped ahead, making incredible gains in power, but he had a feeling that an explosive advancement like this wouldn’t happen again.

He wiggled his claws in appreciation. Maybe if he’d had this body in his first life, all his friends wouldn’t have died.

After a firm shake of his head, Jake dismissed that thought. “What ifs” and “might have beens” could lead to madness, or worse, weakness. At the end of the day, strength was not the only thing that mattered in this world, but it was definitely one of the top three.

* * *

Jake headed north in general for a while, and went out of his way to avoid any groups of people, or signs of violence, or any fires he saw. Being able to smell people on the wind now was a bit strange, but helped with stealth, and stealth would keep his undead ass alive.

He might be stronger, but he looked like a monster in the middle of the apocalypse. There was no way he could expect a group of survivors not to try destroying him on sight.

And Jake really didn’t want to kill any innocent people. Not if he could help it.

The rate he could move now was far faster than a human could manage short of having a car or a motorcycle. He’d left the city behind some time ago.

His travel had been slowed since he was avoiding major roads. Luckily, all the roaming monsters continued to ignore him.

Jake found the type of workshop he’d been searching for after traveling for a couple of hours.

The shop was an outbuilding a stone’s throw from a new-construction house on a rural lot. Jake had noticed the house and the outbuilding while ghosting through the woods. The house was a modular construction place, tastefully done with the first hints of landscaping around the perimeter. Whoever had lived at this place or might still be hunkering down had definitely loved the place. Jake spotted a zombie wandering through the woods a couple hundred yards away, but didn’t see any other monsters.

He crept up and peeked into the window. His breathing was heavy but under control. Ghouls were still undead, so normally, he wouldn’t have to breathe. He wasn’t really alive, so he wasn’t sure why he had to breathe if he exerted himself. It was just the reality of his new existence.

Through the glass, the inside of the shop was dark, but it wasn’t a problem for his enhanced vision. He slowly smiled as he finally found some of what he was looking for. During his run from Tifton, he’d scoped out a few other places, but they hadn’t had exactly what he’d needed. At least, he hadn’t thought so. He hadn’t been able to ransack random locations—he was in a hurry.

He still didn’t know how long he’d been lying in the puddle back in Tifton while he’d changed. His goal was still to make it to Macon in time to save his family, and he planned to haul ass northwards until he found out how much time he actually had left. The possibility he might already be too late was not productive to think about.

Jake had made peace with his previous decisions, there was no way he could have made it to Macon in time while he’d still been a zombie... but there’d definitely been a price to pay. All he could do now was hope and keep moving. He was going to explore this workshop first, though.

With a quick slash of his claws and a supernatural application of force, Jake was through the door and into the workshop. He hadn’t checked the house for people and didn’t have any desire to. He might have to choose between an innocent person’s life or his own at some point in the future, but he wanted to avoid it now.

If anyone came out of the house, he’d hear it.

In the shop he grabbed what he’d been looking for: heavy-duty bolt cutters. When he’d first begun looking into shops, he’d considered using a hacksaw. He had talked himself out of it. Using a hacksaw on his claws would be loud, might not work, and might end up hurting himself. The bolt cutters were easy... especially since Jake was so strong now.

It only took a few minutes to cut off most of his claws. They were tough, like iron, but Jake managed. When he was done, he was only left with a claw on both pinky fingers. As a human or a zombie, the fingers had been extremely weak. But as a ghoul, he had a lot of strength in just that one finger. Relatively. He could also lock his fingers while using his claws as weapons.

As an experiment, Jake drew one of his swords from his storage ring. With only one claw left, he was able to handle the weapon without a problem. He even took a couple experimental swings before moving smoothly through a few forms.

It was a pity that he looked like a nightmare now, but at least he could move like greased lightning. That thought reminded him that he hadn’t actually seen himself yet. He just knew what he should look like based on the info in his head. Jake went outside, found a relatively clean window on the side of the shop where the moon was shining, and took a look at himself in the reflection.

He hissed.

Damn. Yeah, I definitely can’t see people like this, he thought. It was lucky he didn’t have to actually try talking to his family to save them.

Jake went back into the shop to throw some things into his storage ring that might come in handy later. That done, he left and began running northward again.

Staying off of any roads was still best for his continued survival, but he figured it would still be easy to find his way to Macon.

Maybe I’m already too late, he thought, but angrily shook his head. Thoughts like that weren’t helpful at all.

The entire situation was frustrating, though. As a cultivator, an “immortal practitioner,” he should be able to keep track of time perfectly regardless of his mental state. Evolving had messed something up. It felt like a mental rope had slipped out of his grasp or something. He was confident that once he got a handle on the day and time again, he could recalibrate himself, but for now, he could only judge the passage of time from the moment he’d woken up again.

‘Damn,’ he tried to say. The word came out as a growl.

Jake’s mood got worse an hour later when the sun began to rise. He wanted to keep moving, but he wouldn’t be able to save his family if someone shot him in the head. Sure, he was tough now, and might even be able to generate some sort of monster shield, but he didn’t know how yet and shouldn’t take chances.

He very briefly thought about finding another car to steal but decided against it. In some ways, that might make him even more vulnerable.

With a frustrated heart, Jake crawled into a culvert to wait for nightfall, and to think.

Chapter 16

Jake tried to look at the bright side while hiding in a big culvert under a road, waiting for night to fall. The first positive thing was that he could get to Macon a few hours after the sun went down, most likely. A second was that now he finally had some time to look at the Dark Wanderer’s Trinity skill scroll in his storage ring. Lastly, since he was a more powerful monster, he was confident that he would be able to cultivate using the Four Winds of Heaven Spirit Purification technique.

Of course, there were a few problems to think about before looking at the skill scroll.

The first was how he was able to still cultivate to begin with. He’d only realized within the last hour that what he’d been doing shouldn’t have worked, at least not well. Cycling energy was still a form of cultivation, after all; just a really inefficient one. The practitioner drew natural energy into their body and purified it or transformed it while building their own meridians, body, or energy conduits. At least that was the theory and how it normally worked.

Even though the Winds of Heaven Purification was primarily designed to improve his body with the energy he already had, the process should still be absorbing bits of ambient energy.

And all of that should have been impossible for Jake now. As a monster, he could likely only truly cultivate in a hellish world like he’d survived in before he’d died. He couldn’t sense any useable energy outside his body now, nothing like when he’d been alive.

The only theory he had was that his body actually retained energy in unused form. Maybe it leaked out when he used monster cores. That felt like it might be right. It also stood to reason that as he improved his ability to absorb energy from monster cores, it would improve the efficiency as well, not produce waste.

But then how could he practice Four Winds of Heaven Purification?

Another theory was that he actually produced his own energy now. There was some evidence of this in how monsters could drop cores. It still didn’t feel right, however.

The answer might actually be solved by his other problem. He’d used a lot of energy traveling so far already. High-level cultivators didn’t need food, at least this was something he understood to be true, but Jake was still only in the equivalent of the Body Refinement phase.

He needed to eat. The hunger wasn’t coming from his stomach, though—or at least not only his stomach. He also had a feeling that depending on what he ate, he might be able to acquire spiritual energy in addition to mundane.

There was no way to test his theories now, but he planned to eat something once night fell. Then he’d know for sure.

Jake began cycling, practicing the Four Winds Heaven Purification technique. It wasn’t difficult to do at all anymore. What used to be so agonizing he could only tolerate a few seconds was almost like absently humming now.

While actively cycling, Jake removed the Dark Wanderer’s Trinity scroll from his ring and studied it. His new eyes didn’t have a problem seeing it in the dark, but his night vision wasn’t necessary. The writing glowed with spiritual essence.

Weird, he thought. The writing wasn’t in English, but he had no problem reading it. This was a mystery until he remembered he was still a cultivator of sorts now. Anyone who had stepped into the realm of cultivation would probably be able to read this scroll.

There were three techniques explained in the scroll, with three levels of mastery. The first was the Demonic Contradiction Wave. Jake was surprised that he could understand the concept behind the technique so easily. It seemed like at its core, it was a ranged attack that worked by layering two opposed powers over each other in an overlapping cross shape, so when it struck a target, the two energies would crash into each other, creating a violent reaction.

For an orthodox cultivator, this technique might be difficult, but for Jake, it would be easy. Not only did he understand the finer points of how to create an attack like this, his own energy was basically poison, at least relative to the earth’s natural energy. Jake couldn’t cultivate natural energy anymore, but he knew it was there around him, and it wouldn’t be too hard to isolate and use some of it... just awkward. It would take practice.

Jake experimentally tried forging some of the natural energy around him and grimaced. It felt like trying to eat with a mouth numbed at the dentist, or trying to do detailed work with a hand that had fallen asleep.

Practice could wait. He didn’t want to blow himself up while stuffed into a little corrugated steel pipe, so Jake looked at the next skill on the scroll.

Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing, hmm, he thought. This one took longer to figure out, and the strange name didn’t really offer much of a clue.

Jake actually settled down to meditate more deeply, even closing his eyes while he thought about what he’d seen from the scroll. He had never learned from a scroll before. Luckily, during one of his old master’s many rants about how backwards and weak the earth was, he’d mentioned the lack of any technique scrolls. That rant had gone on so long, the old man had actually even explained how to use them.

With the clarity of hindsight, Jake was very grateful he’d paid attention to his old teacher... even during the rants, up to and including insulting Jake’s entire world.

Enlightenment came when Jake remembered his time in the hell dimension and how he’d used demonic energy, keeping himself alive with it. He hadn’t been an ideal conduit of that type of energy, and it had taken a lot of patience, practice, and desperation to process it, to keep it from escaping.

Jake opened his eyes and slowly nodded. The Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing was a way to bring something out of any object, the essence. In fact, maybe it would even work on himself if he deepened his understanding of the technique. Maybe he could test this technique in his little hidey hole.

He drew a butter knife from his ring storage and concentrated, focusing his energies in a way that the scroll had taught him. When the knife began to glow a pale blue, Jake knew he’d succeeded. Now the butter knife was much, much stronger than it had been before. Jake had focused on the concept of durability, brought it to the forefront, and given it more... power. The technique hadn’t drained him much but he’d also intentionally put minimal power into it.

Interesting.

There were several applications of Dao Polishing that he could think of off the top of his head. But he would definitely need to practice it later.

The last technique on the skill scroll was incredibly complex. Jake studied it, trying to make heads or tails of it. He was able to figure out the name, Nine Points Celestial Destruction Path, but not much else. Strangely, he was able to actually memorize the entire thing, but if he thought about it much, all the information scattered in his mind.

Jake idly tapped one of his claws on the metal of his pipe shelter and thought about the problem. He went over the entire scroll again, memorizing it, burning it into his mind the way his master had described, and blinked as it began to glow. Then it burned with green fire. It didn’t produce any heat as the eldritch flames ate the entire thing until the last of the ashes fell to the bottom of the culvert.

A single-use scroll? Jake shook his head. Not for the first time, he was reminded that while he’d studied cultivation in his past life, he’d never actually been a real cultivator. If he’d come from a world where there were massive cultivation sects and ancient martial academies, maybe what had just happened would not have surprised him.

Luckily, the entire scroll was definitely implanted in his memory now, basically a part of him. Jake cycled his chi and mulled over the portions of the scroll frozen in his mind until he got a new idea. Maybe he could view the last part through what he’d been able to understand of the first and second techniques. This gave him his answer.

I need to be stronger, and I need to master at least the first two stages of the first two techniques first. It was like a revelation, and rang completely true through Jake’s meridians. What a mysterious scroll. Even if he hadn’t received the scroll the way he had, Jake would have figured out that it was special, at least he believed so.

It would take a long time to understand the Nine Points Celestial Destruction Path, but at least he knew it was possible now.

Jake didn’t really need to sleep as a ghoul, at least not the same way as he had as a human, although he was able to go dormant after a fashion. Being dormant felt a lot like meditation, and Jake spent his time pondering the Demonic Contradiction Wave. Before twilight came, he’d actually achieved a number of insights, like imagining different energies that he could wrap up in chi before projecting outwards like an attack.

The entire time he was in the culvert, he kept a small part of his awareness monitoring the outside world. Over the course of the day, a few vehicles had rumbled by, and he’d heard violence somewhere. Before night fell, there hadn’t been any noise at all, though.

Good, Jake thought. He roused himself from his trance-like state and smiled. Back when he’d been an adventurer, it’d been second nature to torch the inside of any culverts or small tunnels his team had come across. He was glad that people were still in the process of adapting to the new post-Purple Rain world. The instructions he’d put on the internet had included tips on checking hiding places for monsters, though. He wouldn’t be safe in culverts forever.

When Jake left the safety of his little hidey hole, he felt great. The sensation of being reborn returned, and he marveled at his new body. When he’d transformed, the way impurities and toxins had built him up, made him stronger. He’d never heard of anything like it before.

Jake ducked into the trees as a military-looking procession of jeeps passed by on the nearby road and watched them go with glowing blue eyes.

He frowned, thinking about what a liability it was that his eyes were so visible, and just like that, the faint blue light in front of his face winked out. Well, that’s convenient, he thought.

Then Jake turned toward Macon, loping at an easy pace, darting in and out of the trees. At one point, he verified that he was still going the right direction using signs, and felt a strange feeling when he realized that he actually recognized the road now. He could find his way around now from memory.

Finally.

Night had truly fallen and Jake felt much more comfortable, like an instinct. He wanted to run directly to Macon, but he hadn’t forgotten that he needed to find some food.

After only traveling for about another twenty minutes, his supernaturally excellent hearing picked up screaming in the distance. He grinned sardonically. If someone was looking for violence, they wouldn’t need to search far after Purple Rain. The new world could be a really shitty place.

Jake turned off the highway he’d been following, moving directly through the trees toward the sounds of distress. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, but for the first time since he’d come back to the past, he truly felt ready for anything.

* * *

The commotion was at a nearby house, a two-story with a metal roof. A paved road meandered through the trees, but the house’s driveway was red, sandy Georgia dirt. Jake immediately noticed a number of vehicles in the front yard. He heard another scream.

A ghoul ran around a corner, and another charged out of the forest. Gunshots sounded from the other side of the house before a man appeared in the second-story window to take aim at a ghoul that Jake could see. The man took another shot before throwing a torch out the window.

That was when Jake remembered that it wasn’t normal to see better at night than he used to in the daytime.

A number of impromptu torches looked like they had been thrown around the surrounding yard. As a ghoul ran through a little puddle of light, one of the defenders in the house launched a magical fireball that caught the creature in the back. It screamed and ran off into the night. Jake gave it even odds whether it'd be back or not. Ghouls had a regeneration ability as long as they could feed, so it might be able to.

You had to kill a ghoul in one shot, or at least before they could escape. Unlike zombies, they could feel pain and had survival instincts. Of course, if enough blood had been spilled, they could frenzy, like sharks, but it didn't seem like that was the case here.

Yet.

A new fireball of a slightly different color flew out of another window, missing a ghoul. Jake tried to lift eyebrows that he didn’t have anymore. It still hadn’t been too long since Purple Rain. How was there already a group of adventurers throwing magic around? A mage here and there wouldn’t be uncommon by this point, but at least two in one building, and both using attack magic?

Whoever was screaming in the house hadn’t stopped. Jake crept closer and hid behind a truck before scooting underneath it. He assumed that this way, none of the other ghouls running around would come close enough to sense his soul and go ape-shit. Hopefully.

Now that he was closer to the house, he could more easily see what was going on and even hear voices. Jake focused his hearing, which was easy to do using his natural abilities. Circulating his chi and delivering energy to his eardrums made his hearing even more acute. Now he could hear voices from the inside of the house as if he were standing right next to them.

“Shut that bitch up!” snarled a voice. “I can’t hear these fucking things over her wailing!”

“You gagged the other one. Why don’t you gag her?” asked a second voice.

“You know why,” said a third voice with a dark chuckle. “Paul fucked it up and the bitch died. Now he’s afraid of killing this one too. If we’re gonna keep her alive, maybe we shouldn’t stuff her mouth too full of socks like we did to her mom, eh?”

“Wait, the mom’s dead?” asked the second voice.

“Yeah,” said the third. “Too bad. I know you thought she had a great rack. If you think it’s a waste, I definitely agree. Holing up here wasn’t a bad idea, and the added entertainment would have been nice. I guess Paul doesn’t understand that women need to breathe.”

“Shut the fuck up!” snarled the first voice, presumably Paul. “Maybe you should spend more time shooting the fucking monsters outside instead of running your mouth, Al.”

“I just lit one up a few seconds ago,” complained the third voice.

“Yeah, nice shot, Al,” said the second voice. “Glad at least one of us can hit anything with magic. Saves bullets. Now that we’re shooting, we’re also making enough noise to raise the dead.”

The third voice muttered, “Maybe literally. Haven’t seen zombies for a while. Can’t believe I actually like them the best now. Slow and stupid.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be saving bullets right now, Tom,” the voice Jake recognized as Paul said. His voice was tight. “Those fucking things are all over the place outside. If enough of them push against the barrier on the first floor, they might be able to get in. Since you can’t hit the broadside of a fucking barn with magic, maybe you should switch to your rifle, eh?”

“No, it’ll be fine,” the second voice, Tom, said. A bit of heat crept into his voice. “Look Paul, I’m getting pretty fed up with your fuckin’ attitude. I don’t know how much of this ‘tude is you or the pipe, but you need to chill the fuck out. You shouldn’t have been using before nightfall anyway. And the only reason this plan is even gonna work is because I put up the barrier downstairs, right? Everyone else in the world is out there being monster food, and we were gonna be sitting pretty in this rich asshole’s house. We have food, weapons, and we even had some girls to play with. And now, like usual, you’re bitching. Is anything ever good enough, Paul?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, there are monsters running around outside like rats,” Paul snarled. “And yeah, you set up that barrier, but these fucking things were probably attracted to all the blood downstairs.”

“Whatever. Bodies are heavy,” said Tom. “Putting them outside would have just made it more likely that monsters would show up. Besides, we can just wait until morning and get rid of the bodies then. Until then, we just have to last the night, and these fucking things can’t climb up the house. The barrier goes past the walls. This is just target practice right now.”

“Have you seen how far these fucking things can jump?” Paul asked.

“Yes,” Tom said, drawing the word out. “But we chose this place because there aren’t any trees close enough to be a threat, we pushed the trucks away that weren’t ours, and parked ours far away too. Fuckers can’t jump up. You know this. These things are just ghouls, right? That’s what all the info about the monsters said. It’s not like they can fly. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, that’s true. If not for all that shit from Lord Grim or whatever, I wouldn’t have magic right now.” Al chuckled. “Since he was right about magic and everything else, he was probably right about the ghouls.”

Jake’s heart sank. In an instant, he processed all the implications from what he’d just heard. He’d thought he was saving people before, that by posting his advice online right after Purple Rain, he’d be helping people. But he’d never considered that he’d be effectively arming scum like this. It’d been so long since most murderous assholes had been killed off or laid low in his first life, their existence just hadn’t been forefront in his mind.

He felt a massive wave of guilt. It was very possible he’d switched the greatest threat to normal people from being monsters to other people. He couldn’t believe his oversight, not least of which because what had happened to his family hadn’t been done by monsters, at least not the inhuman kind.

Jake watched as one of the ghouls tried to climb up the house, claws extended for the edge of the roof. The creature was blown back in a shower of sparks and it hissed at the building. Around that same time, Jake smelled what had attracted the ghouls: an odor of blood and death from inside the building.

Paul cursed. “One just tried to get on the roof! Your side, Al.”

“On it.”

Jake spotted a seedy-looking man appear in the window above and launch a fireball at the frustrated ghoul. He missed, but the monster hightailed it for the relative safety of the tree line at the edge of the property.

Meanwhile, the screaming hadn’t really stopped from inside. Paul snarled. “That fucking bitch is attracting them! Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

There was stomping in the house. “That guy’s a real asshole,” Al muttered. After a brief pause, he said, “You think I should go instead?”

“You didn’t want to do it before. What, have you suddenly grown a conscience?” Tom’s voice sounded tired, with an edge of something dark. “You didn’t have a problem a few hours ago when we killed her dad and her brother. Paul’s a shit stain, but he has a point. The barrier seems to work, but I can’t even hear myself think, and there are plenty more girls out there. This one isn’t special.” He hollered, “Hey, Paul, just knock her out, alright?”

“That’s what I’m gonna do!” Paul shouted from the lower level.

Then there was a dull thud and the screaming stopped.

“Stupid little whiner,” muttered Paul. Jake was surprised he could hear him clearly. “Look what you made me do. Fuck.” The man’s footsteps moved back up the stairs.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. The fact that scum like this had used the information he’d shared with the world... offended him. Something like rage but cold as ice grew in his stomach. Thoughts of rushing the house grew. His arms quivered.

Wait, there’s a barrier, he thought.

He dimly realized that the smell of blood was making it hard to think. Jake cycled his energy, clearing his head.

The rage began to fade, but resolution replaced it.

He was going to kill these guys, that was for sure now. But if he brainlessly attacked and bounced off the barriers like the common ghouls, he might get hit by a fireball. His phasing ability might work, but he wasn’t sure if it would bypass the protection.

If he was right about how the barrier had been formed, the raiders had used a fetish and magical circle inside the house. This would produce a powerful, if short-lived magical energy field. Such a thing could only be constructed from a solid threshold, and only if someone who lived there, an owner of the home’s threshold, was there for its construction.

Jake had included instructions on how to construct magic protection to help people survive. His logic had been that people could get a barrier ready to go, and spring it if it was an emergency. A family living in a home would be able to reestablish their threshold every day. Of course, that wouldn’t be enough to keep ghouls out indefinitely. They could come through the roof if they were able to get on top of it.

But it sounded like these assholes had been going house to house, helping themselves to whatever they wanted, and setting up a barrier at night before moving on.

Even if a family set up a barrier to protect themselves, guys like this could still prey on their fellow man. A magic barrier wouldn’t stop a bullet, for instance. In fact, in Jake’s first life, smarter monsters had eventually figured out they could throw weapons or even burn out families that were only protected by simple, ritual magic.

Part of Jake’s new body kept trying to distract him with the scent of blood and dead meat from inside the house, but he ignored it. Instead, he crept around the outside of the building, examining his target from several angles.

He snuck toward one of the other vehicles in the driveway and caught sight of a common ghoul crouched down behind a wheel, peeking out from behind the truck to watch the house.

Jake took out a saber from his ring’s storage. His lips didn’t really work right for it, but he scrunched up his face in thought. Although a fine sword, his weapon was an antique. It was still in good shape. If Jake were an officer in the early 1900s, this sword still would have been great.

It might not fare so well being used against monsters, though. Jake remembered the modern saber he had in his storage, but decided to try something out instead.

He’d used Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing on a butter knife before, but what about this sword? After a quick circulation of his chi, Jake infused the sword with vital energies, making it supernaturally tough.

The creature didn’t sense anything amiss until Jake was already mid-swing. With only a faint shimmer through the darkness, the blow was quick, clean, and more humane than the ghoul probably deserved. Jake immediately dropped the Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing from the blade. Even a faint glow might give his position away.

Jake was about to turn back and study the house himself when he felt his hunger intensify. The ghoul’s body was looking... delicious, but not in a way that Jake was used to. He didn’t want to eat the thing, not exactly. Instead, he moved toward it in a half-trance.

Letting instinct guide him, he held out a hand. The smoke-like substance that always rose from his body moved forward to the monster’s corpse and drew back, pulling something with it, another shade made of smoke, its darkness a different shade. It seemed to struggle. Jake could sense energy coming from the cloud. When the strange, floating mass got close enough, his body suddenly sucked it in through his mouth and his forehead. Jake felt a really strange sensation of power hitting his dantian at the same time as his stomach felt like he’d eaten a meal.

What the hell? he thought.

Jake quickly crouched down as close to the truck as he could get in case his little experiment had made a light show. Then he examined how he felt. Whatever he’d just done wouldn’t be a substitute for finding monster cores, but it had felt similar. He got the feeling that he could still eat conventionally. Jake wasn’t hungry anymore, though.

Weird.

Jake didn’t have a lot of time to think about this new development. A nearby ghoul in the forest was staring at him and he got the impression that it was curious. Even if Jake felt like another monster to them, what he’d just done had definitely not been normal ghoul stuff.

The thugs in the house were still stomping around, taking potshots at the monsters outside. Jake felt like he should still be enraged and wondered why he wasn’t feeling that way. He was still definitely going to kill them, but the flash of passionate anger he’d experienced before was just an ember now. Deep down, he knew he was just probably irreversibly damaged from two completely fucked-up lifetimes.

But whether he killed these assholes calmly or through righteous vengeance, dead would be dead.

‘Thinking about shit like that is just more evidence that you’re messed up now, Jake,’ he tried to say. His hisses carried through the night.

“What was that!” One of the assholes upstairs went to a nearby window. Jake thought it’d been Al. The guy had been lanky with face tattoos. Jake stayed very, very still until the man passed.

The moment the coast was clear, Jake moved toward the house, keeping as quiet as possible and moving slowly, smoothly. He glanced back to make sure none of the other ghouls were angling toward him to check him out. The coast was still clear. Jake felt some of his sharp teeth with his pointed tongue.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to get too close to the house to test his power. The barrier itself was made of magic and was designed to stop monsters, but would also stop most weaker magical attacks. Attacks with enough juice might get through. Barriers could differ, though. The really powerful ones could even stop mundane attacks, just like the protection of high-ranking monsters.

But this barrier was basic. It was still enough to repel monsters, though. If Jake tried to flash-step into it, the effect on his body could be bad, like hitting concrete. But his natural ability was to become completely incorporeal…

Actually, how could he test it? It wasn’t like there was a way to project energy through the barrier…

A man moved upstairs and Jake froze again. The three in the house were bickering again, and a fireball shot out from the other side of the house before the crack of a firearm split the night again. There was a whoop after that as a monster fell, head pulped. Another torch flew down from the second floor.

Most of the common ghouls were keeping their distance now.

Jake got a great idea. He crept as close to the barrier as he could and held out a hand, waiting for the shadowy substance that flowed from his body to move forward. If he was right, the “shadow” effect over his body wasn’t physical at all. He was about to find out.

He grinned without humor as he saw the smoke from his arm move all the way to the wall, completely unimpeded.

Jake had his answer.

And just like that, he triggered his phase ability. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried using his power—he’d tested it out a few times since he’d become a shadow ghoul. When the entire world changed to black and white, he wasn’t surprised.

Jake simply walked a few steps forward until he was inside the house. When the ability wore off, he was past the barrier and inside the invaded home.

The first thing Jake did was creep forward silently to check the bottom floor. When he’d become a ghoul, his growth had split his shoes open, and his new clawed feet made it much easier to be stealthy.

Two bodies in the middle of the family room floor made Jake shake his head. This family had never had a chance. The father had been covering his son with his body. They’d both been wearing sweats, comfortable clothes. Evidence of another fetish on the floor was evidence that they’d had their own barrier in place, or had it ready. They might have even let the raiders into their home, trying to help their fellow man.

Some of the first flash of rage Jake had felt before began to return. Monster or not, he was still human inside. The fact that he was upset again actually gave him some solace.

Only a single candle on the first floor provided any light, but Jake didn’t need it. He could just follow his nose. If he hadn’t just fed, or somehow satisfied himself with the ghoul he’d killed outside, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to resist at least a little nibble on these bodies. They smelled delicious. If he had to explain it, it was like smelling a delicious four-course meal, or a bag full of fast food when he’d been human... but five times stronger.

Jake found the doomed family’s mother in a bathroom. He turned away. The daughter must be the person who’d been screaming before. Jake found her in a pantry. The crowbar that’d been used to silence her was on the flour outside the door. It had split the girl’s head open.

She was still alive, barely, but not for much longer.

The girl made tiny, pitiful noises on the floor and Jake hoped she was completely unconscious. There was no hope for her. He knelt down next to her and sighed. Then he put a hand on her forehead and tried to send a pulse of comforting energy through his palm. Peace felt like a foreign concept to him at this point, but he tried his best. He’d heard of healers doing things like this in the world of Murim. Whether he’d succeeded, he didn’t know, but this was all he could do for the girl.

He broke her neck before moving to the foot of the stairs.

More gunfire sounded from the second floor, and the men were arguing again. Jake eyed the stairs and remembered the one man going up and down the house. It’d been noisy. Jake was fast, but he didn’t have a lot of experience fighting as a monster yet and wanted to play it smart. Luckily, an opportunity presented itself a moment later as one of the raiders shot again.

Jake flash-stepped directly up the stairs, landing with only a tiny thump, which was covered by the concussion of the gun blast. He quickly scanned the area. The room he stood in was basically a landing area on top of the stairs, and a single hallway ran down the second floor of the house. One of the raiders was standing in a doorway, looking down the hallway, facing away from Jake.

He pounced on one man and his hand briefly went around the man’s throat before he drew his remaining pinky claw across his neck. Jake slammed the man’s head into the ground hard enough to make the entire floor quake.

One of the remaining two men who was standing down the hallway—Jake thought it was Paul—began to turn with a gun in his hand. He was way too slow.

Jake’s lunge carried him all the way to the dirty-looking raider. He used all of his supernatural strength to hit him with an open palm to the sternum.

Bones broke and the man practically rocketed away, bursting through a window to fall backwards into the night. Snarls and hisses sounded from outside almost immediately. If maybe-Paul wasn’t dead already, the ghouls out there would make sure he got that way soon.

The last would-be professional raider came out of a room with a hand leveled. Jake flash-stepped forward in a dive, like he’d learned to do to pass Gtata’s challenges. A fireball flashed over his head as he ducked into a roll, then collided with the man’s shins. The attack hadn’t been very elegant, but it worked.

When the two of them went rolling onto the floor, Jake was on the filthy man in a flash. Before he could form conscious thought, his teeth had already found the man’s neck and torn it out.

Jake spit the flesh out of his mouth and coughed. Disgusting. It was unfortunate to admit that this was not the weirdest thing that he had ever experienced. Human blood covered the front of his chest.

The fireball had hit a wall behind him and set it on fire. It was relatively small now but spreading fast. If Jake had really wanted to, he might have figured out a way to put the fire out, but this location was a stop, not a destination. He rifled through the pockets of the two corpses on the upper floor. Both had cell phones. Some backpacks in one of the rooms must have been their stuff. They must have had power banks because the phones were working. Whether they were actually connecting to anything was another question entirely.

Both phones were locked, but one of them had a face recognition key. Jake had found this phone on the first corpse, and discovered the thin man really had been Al. The corpse was heavy in a way only corpses were, but Jake managed easily with his enhanced strength. After he propped very-dead-Al up against the wall. Jake grabbed the dead man’s hair and held his face up. Then he keyed the phone for face recognition.

The phone came unlocked.

Jake removed a stylus from his storage ring and sent a message to everyone on Al’s contact list:

This man Al is dead. I killed him.

He was a murderer, a thief, and a rapist.

If you follow this path, if I find you, I will kill you too.

Any tools I have given you, I will know how to defeat. Do not misuse my advice. Tell everyone.

Be wary. Help your fellow man. Remember that monsters are the enemy. If you become one, you will be dealt with.

-Heavenly Grim

The name “Heavenly Grim” had just sort of happened. He didn’t like the name “Old Grim,” and his teacher used to talk about the Heavens a lot, including Heavenly Tribulation. This name sounded cooler to Jake and still had “Grim” in it.

After a pause, Jake took a picture of the corpses, the burning house, and willed his eyes to start glowing blue again for a selfie. He showed his teeth during the picture, and after that was done, felt a flash of grim amusement. If text messages still worked, his selfie was going to get someone’s attention for sure.

He uploaded the message and pictures to a few social media sites that the man had been perma-logged into as well. The internet was slow, but seemed to be working…for now. Whether it’d stay up for a few more minutes or a few more days was anyone’s guess.

Then Jake signed into his own accounts he’d made before and posted a few more places online. He had to hurry before the flames got too hot.

The very last thing he did, saved for the end because he’d been dreading it, was to glance in the upper corner of the screen to note the date and time. As soon as he saw it, he released a breath he hadn’t been holding.

In his first life, his family would not be murdered for two more days. Then again, raider asshole humans had taken a long time to figure out magic before. Jake stared at the burning wall as he thought.

Now that he thought about it, he could probably put the fire out whenever he wanted, but he would leave part of it. This house should follow its family. In fact, maybe he could help it along.

He cycled his energy and pulled some of the fire away from the wall, putting its essence into a tube of force crafted by his will. Then he did the same with the oxygen around him.

Jake made an “X” in the air and pointed, launching his first Demonic Contradiction Wave at the window he’d kicked a man through a few minutes before.

With a roar and a flash, that portion of the wall disappeared. The house bucked and Jake almost fell on his undead ass. Wow, he thought. He was going to need to practice a lot. It was hard to form the attack in the first place right now, and he was going to need a lot of experience to get the mixtures of opposing elements right.

Part of Jake was desperately relieved that he was still going to be in time to save his family, but there was a disquiet growing in the back of his mind. If a trio of violent fuckfaces like this were rampaging in the middle of nowhere, what were the cities like? His mind kept returning to that question.

It was time to go. Jake only paused to grab some fallen weapons and a handful of other things, threw them in his storage ring, and ran to the other side of the house. He opened the window, made sure he didn’t see any ghouls that were too close, and jumped to the ground.

Then he took off running. He’d already planned to get to Macon tonight, but a sense of urgency had gripped him.

Please be okay, please be okay, he thought to himself, a silent mantra. Mom, Dad, Dina...

Behind him, the sad, broken home began to burn in earnest. It would be a funeral pyre for the unfortunate family that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Chapter 17

A strange feeling of dread began growing in Jake’s chest as he neared Macon. His instincts seemed to be at odds with what he was actually seeing, though.

The world actually felt a lot less ravaged than at this point in his first life. There were still a few pockets of destruction and chaos. He ran past one in the night: a travel stop by the side of the highway that had been the site of a battle right up until some of the pumps had caught fire. Jake could easily figure out what had happened just by scanning the burning, hellish scene as he passed. There must have still been resources available, because groups of armed people were still at the scene, shooting anything that got near, monster or human.

Desperate people do desperate things.

Jake loped along at an easy pace, probably faster than he could have managed at a dead sprint when he’d been human. Avoiding other monsters was easy in the dark and human survivors had learned to stick to lighted areas at night, or better yet to not come out at all.

During his run to Macon, Jake only paused to kill and drain another ghoul. He also took the opportunity to remove the custom sword from his storage ring and attach its sheath to his belt. After some thought, he’d decided not to take any of his firearms out of the ring. They were easier to remove than a sword if he needed them, and he felt less confident about making sure they didn’t get lost as he ran.

When he got really close to Macon, only a few minutes away, he caught sight of something that made him frown in concern. He might not have spotted it before getting his incredible night vision, but there was definitely a head poking up over the trees.

A giant, a rank-C monster.

Class-C monsters were extremely dangerous and generally too much to handle even for a large group of normal people armed with conventional weapons.

Giants hadn’t shown up for at least a month after Purple Rain in his first life.

Things were definitely different this time around. Jake filed it away to think about later. He was almost to the outskirts of Macon.

Light in the distance made him slow down again. What the hell? he thought. Jake had been running near the highway. He ducked into the trees before moving forward any further.

Jake crouched down, keeping himself unnaturally still, and watched a procession of vehicles drive down the road ahead at about 30 miles per hour. The group of four trucks actually included two military vehicles, and there were a couple men in the back of a pickup. One of the men raised a hand, and a globe of light hovered into the sky about thirty feet above him, lighting up the surroundings.

A mage, Jake thought. He suddenly realized what he’d been missing while busy thinking about giants and violence. All the vehicles had been cleared off the highway in this area. This sort of cleanup was definitely not supposed to happen in most places for a long time after Purple Rain.

The procession of vehicles vanished up the highway, moving away from Jake, taking I-75 northwest. If Jake wasn’t wrong, he’d just witnessed a patrol... a night patrol. The disquiet he’d felt earlier came back, but he didn’t understand why. If the survivors were patrolling, keeping the city safe, that would be a good thing. More organized survivors and fewer monsters meant there’d be less senseless death.

With a mental shrug, Jake waited until all the lights were gone before running toward I-475, heading northeast. He had a decent amount of distance left to go, but he knew how he could cut through the trees past Highway 80 toward his parents’ house.

Once he got there, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he wanted—needed—to know that his family was safe.

* * *

Jake crouched down behind the house across the street and watched his family’s home, looking for the slightest flicker of motion or light. Nothing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been watching, but he should have seen something by now. Even at night, the apocalypse didn’t lend to peaceful neighborhoods. Or maybe his family was just laying low. Not knowing was maddening, but he couldn’t just walk up to the door and knock.

The entire area seemed to be deserted, but unlike the residential neighborhood he’d set on fire back in Tifton, this one wasn’t crawling with monsters. In fact, he’d only seen a couple zombies the entire time he’d been in Macon so far. Effort was definitely being made to clear the city and keep it safe.

So why wasn’t his family home? Or were they hiding?

Jake finally moved forward across the street. He hadn’t wanted to break and enter, not least of which because he would give his family a heart attack if they were home, or worse, catch a bullet.

He suddenly paused, foot in the air. Stupid Jake, he thought, and wondered what was wrong with his mind.

Something must really be bothering him.

There was no need to actually break the door down. Besides, he’d changed his mind about knocking. He should announce himself before escalating. Jake just made a fist and heavily knocked on the door before flash-stepping back across the street to hide.

Nothing happened; nothing at all. Well, so much for that, he thought.

The street was motionless, unusually quiet for the apocalypse. There was some distant gunfire and other noises like shouting in the distance, but not much. The night was extremely dark too. Other than a dim glow in the distance from something burning, there weren’t any light sources that Jake could see. This area seemed to have lost power and nobody was running a generator or solar.

His parents didn’t exactly live in the ritziest part of town, so the lack of solar power didn’t surprise him that much, nor did the fact that all the little lawn solar lights were missing from yards. That sort of thing had happened during his first lifetime too. Survivors had scavenged all the solar lights they could find to help make certain areas more secure at night, at least until people had figured out easier and more powerful ways to light the darkness.

Jake remembered the mage in the back of the patrol earlier. Maybe people here already have figured some things out, he amended.

He moved to the side of the house that had the kitchen window, activated his phasing ability, and just walked through the wall. Inside, the house was dark. Nobody was hiding. The building was truly empty; Jake would be able to sense if there were anyone nearby, he was pretty sure, especially his family.

The building wasn’t very big, so Jake was able to search the place relatively quickly. It didn’t take long to realize that all the extra food and weapons were gone. The front door was locked. He finally found the note that had been left on the kitchen counter after thoroughly checking for clues one last time.

‘Figures it would have been right under my nose when I first came in,’ he tried to say. His annoyed growl drifted across the kitchen.

The note was from his mother.

“Jake:

We went to the Andersons’ house. The city has been split up into three groups or gangs and our neighborhood is being patrolled by people that call themselves the Macon Protectors. They give us a bad vibe, so we left the house for the time being.

Your sister says not to worry about you, but I can’t help it sometimes. She also said we should take your warnings seriously and we have. I hope you are okay. Come find us at the Andersons if you see this.

Love,

Mom”

‘God dammit,’ Jake tried to say. He pulled out one of the chairs at the kitchen table to sit and think.

He knew where the Andersons’ house was. But in his first life, where they lived in Macon had been extremely dangerous from the get-go. It’d just gotten more dangerous over time too.

Among the messages he’d sent online when he’d been a zombie, he’d also created one for his family. He’d sent it to his sister, actually, since his parents weren’t the most tech-savvy people on the planet.

Aldina had definitely seen the message, she must have. There was no other way for his mother to assume he might stop by. In his first life, he’d been on the other side of the country. The problem was, now they weren’t here for him to protect.

When he’d sent his message, he actually hadn’t known what exactly to say. Other than some simple direction and a note that he was on the way, he’d included a link to all of the advice he’d posted elsewhere about surviving in the changed world. Maybe it was a stretch, but he assumed that his family had read it. He could just glance around and see that they’d taken most of the useful items from the house when they’d left. Taking most of it would have been common sense, but he could see the salt shaker sitting conspicuously empty on the kitchen island.

Jake tapped his long, sharp pinky nail on the table as he thought.

His family not being here was a potentially very bad turn of events. Jake wanted to feel positive and optimistic about it, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach just wouldn’t go away. Part of him wanted to take off, run into the night straight to the Andersons’ house. He’d learned from his old life that planning ahead often saved time, though.

What if he ran into trouble or had to turn back altogether?

The city looked different than he’d expected. In his first life, there hadn’t been a “Macon Protectors” group or any gang with that name. There’d been a few large gangs, including Screaming Demons and Night Rangers. Maybe they still existed and were growing in power. He couldn’t be sure. The present and the future had changed. As he thought about it, he had to admit that he might be part of the reason.

Now he would need to stop assuming he knew how things worked or where the danger was anymore. He wasn’t arrogant enough to think that his warning he’d given right after Purple Rain had changed the US, much less the entire world, but it might have started something, created a snowball effect. The results he had been seeing were undeniable.

It seemed like people in a lot of places had banded together, figured out how to survive, and even had discovered magic or their gifted powers a lot faster than in Jake’s first life. But an unintended result seemed to be that more powerful monsters were beginning to appear a lot earlier than last time. This turn of events would have confused Jake before he’d met The Morrigan. Now he knew there was an aspect of show—or maybe a game—to the destruction of the world. The Earth had been sacrificed as part of an ongoing proxy war of the gods.

Jake began to feel something new, a burning frustration bordering on hate.

He calmed himself and checked the house before leaving. There wasn’t much of value that he bothered to store in his ring, but he did put a few personal effects away just in case.

Jake left the house with a heavy, foreboding heart.

* * *

The sounds of distant gunshots and other violence in the night made Jake pick up the pace. None of the noise seemed to be centralized in any one direction. That was somewhat expected. In his first life, the night was a dangerous time and people struggled for their lives, at least for a year after Purple Rain. He had to be careful, but now that he had his new form, he could slink through the darkness faster than a human could jog.

A hellish red glow hung above the central part of the city, near the hotels. Something big was on fire. Jake was actually heading the opposite direction. Unlike his family, the Andersons lived in a wealthier part of town. Lyonel Anderson was a retired doctor, and his wife Eileen was a nurse. The two of them had been married for over thirty years, had even worked together sometimes, and were still in love. Jake’s parents and the Andersons knew each other from church and had been friends for a long time.

The Andersons had died in Jake’s past life about a week after his parents had, nearest he could discover.

Jake moved stealthily toward Lake Tobesofkee, heading northwest. He’d dipped south first to travel through the woods. It felt calming to be back in a familiar area. During his teen years, he’d ranged a bit, so he knew the general lay of the land. Moving through the forest now helped him avoid detection, and minimize any trouble he might encounter. He didn’t want to have any unnecessary fights, especially against people. The handful of monsters he saw through the trees were sparse. This lack of monsters confirmed his belief that the gangs and whoever else had been pitching in around the area had thinned them out.

The first time he came across any people was on a back road. He quickly ducked into some bushes and watched with narrowed eyes as a truck with a few ragged-looking men passed by. A few things about the scene seemed suspicious. People traveling at night through a forest, something about the group itself, and Jake caught a whiff of blood coming from the bed of the truck.

This group was obviously different from the one he’d seen patrolling the highway earlier. People didn’t go out at night to the woods to hunt monsters; that would be insane. No, skulking around in the dark was the sort of thing people only did if they were desperate, evil, the area was free of monsters, or some combination of the three. And the blood Jake had smelled and the look of the group had triggered Jake’s instincts. These were bad men.

It seemed that, even in an area like Macon that was safer than other cities, had people up to no good. Jake thought back to the home invaders he’d killed just a few hours ago. The dread in his gut spiked.

He reminded himself that this timeline was different. Anything at all could happen. His ability to predict events had pretty much vanished, though.

Jake made a note of the suspicious truck, where it was going, and ran.

He made great time the rest of the way through the wood. At one point, he thought he might have seen another big monster like the giant he’d spotted earlier, but couldn’t make it out clearly and didn’t hang around to make sure. There wasn’t time to waste, especially not gawking at other monsters in the dark.

When he popped out of the forest, he found himself in a familiar place: right at the dam, where the lake fed the creek for drainage. The night was still clear and bright, at least to Jake’s eyes. He was having a tough time figuring out how it’d look to regular people. Judging by the tiny sliver of moon, there probably wouldn’t be the greatest visibility for regular humans.

Jake began running east, heading up around the lake. There were little sources of light everywhere—a few battery-powered flashlights, but mostly torches and little bonfires. This area definitely looked better than it had around this time in his first life. Many of the houses still had boarded-up windows, though. Nobody other than the patrol trucks were outside, at least not that he could see. The people in the patrol trucks must have been maintaining some of the fires too.

Something was strange.

Maybe the lake itself was still a danger in this timeline, but the patrols had it under control. Beyond the threat of the lake, something else was bothering him that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

He eyed his surroundings with a critical eye and began to get another sinking feeling, especially after passing a burnt-out shell of a house, and seeing another that was still hot and smoking, coals glowing in the night.

What the hell? he thought.

Jake dodged another patrol before hitting Moseley Dixon Road and headed downhill toward the other side of the lake. He was getting close.

Nothing seemed to move in the Andersons’ neighborhood. Jake could hear distant screaming and crying—too far away to be of immediate concern for him. Still, a feeling of violence hung in the air. As he watched from behind a tree, a couple of dark vans pulled out from behind a house farther down the street and took off like bats out of hell.

The Andersons’ house was closer to where he was hiding. A trickle of smoke was rising from it. Jake hadn’t seen it at first, even with his enhanced night sight, because of the surrounding dark. His nose picked up the smell of a small fire now, though. The mailbox had been mowed flat and the lawn was torn up by tire treads.

Blood was on the ground.

Jake’s sensitive nose told him that all of the commotion had likely taken place minutes ago, definitely no longer than half an hour.

Oh no, thought Jake. He threw all caution to the window and rushed to the Andersons’ house. The door had been kicked down.

No, no, no, no, no, he thought. Jake drew his custom saber and pulled his dark, cracked lips back as he went from room to room.

He found the bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson first.

Lyonel Anderson had a shovel. He still gripped it in his large, dark-skinned hands in death. His grey and white speckled hair had been burned. He had obviously gone down fighting.

His wife was definitely dead as well. Her complexion—usually glowing, like warm chocolate—had grown pallid in death. Lisa Anderson had no weapons in her hands, but the air smelled like cordite, like there’d been shooting. There were bullet casings on the floor.

Jake remembered that she’d known how to shoot and had kept a .380 pistol in the house.

Both of them looked like they’d been killed with something sharp. Their bodies had been cut to ribbons. There was some evidence of blunt force impact too, and Mr. Anderson had a big burn on his arm in addition to the first one Jake had seen on his head. One wall of the room was charred, but nothing had caught on fire long-term.

The Andersons had been some of the kindest, most honest people Jake had ever met. They would have never hurt anyone. In fact, skilled doctors would eventually be hard to find, worth their weight in gold. The world was definitely a dimmer place without the Andersons.

Jake dreaded what more he’d find, but he had to know.

His father’s body was in the family room. Jake fell to his knees. There were more bullet casings on the floor. His father had fallen out of his wheelchair when he’d died.

Horror began to rise—horror and guilt.

Jake stomped it out.

He’d already seen the bodies of his family and friends once before. Seeing them again was both easier and harder. The fact that he wasn’t human anymore might have actually been helping.

Instead of breaking down or choking up, it felt like ice had begun flowing through his veins.

Leonard Mazzariello had a number of wounds. At least one had been caused by magic. If not for the grievous wounds on his body, he might have looked like he was sleeping. His facial expression was peaceful, somewhat at odds with the difficulty he’d been having with depression over the last year. Bent frames on the floor were all that remained of his glasses.

Jake got up slowly. I was too late, he thought. He’d somehow arrived days before when his parents had died in his first life. This was not how it was supposed to be.

He found his mother’s body in front of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She’d been stabbed in the back, or maybe shot. Her graying hair had been tied back in a bun and she’d been wearing sweats, what she wore around the house for comfort.

Despite his muted emotions, Jake didn’t want to look further. All the blood was starting to give him disturbing cravings too. He’d rather kill himself than desecrate the bodies of his family or friends. The new sense of disgust he felt for himself actually helped keep him thinking.

At the end of the hall, the carpet was thick with blood. It was so thick in some places, it squished like Jell-O. Jake’s inhuman senses could immediately tell the blood was the freshest in the house. Maybe he could catch the fuckers that did this. He steeled himself and entered the room.

A bolt of ice almost took his head off.

Jake sprang to the side and held his sword up in a guard position just in time to catch a glimpse of another ice spike heading for his face. He flash-stepped a short distance to the other side of the room. Only a second had passed, but he’d finally been able to figure out what was going on.

His sister was sitting on the floor. Most of her body was behind the heavy door of a safe that had been opened. She had one side of her face exposed, resting her head on the door. A pistol and a few empty magazines lay on the floor beside her. She might have run out of ammo, but she wasn’t defenseless. Her hand was raised and magic gathered at her fingertips. Jake’s nose told him she was injured, but he didn’t know how bad yet.

‘Aldina! Aldina, stop!’ Too late, Jake remembered what he was, that he wasn’t human anymore as the words left his mouth in a garble of hisses and growls. He’d probably just made things worse.

But instead of screaming or attacking anymore, Aldina spit a glob of crimson phlegm and croaked something that might have been a laugh. One eye opened a bit more fully and she managed, “Jake, that you?” Her voice was pained, strained, but still carried the spirit that had gotten her through law school on an academic scholarship.

Jake mutely nodded, blinked, and looked down at himself. Yup, still a monster, he thought.

“Are you wondering how I knew?” Aldina slouched behind her makeshift cover and crawled painfully to one side. “And I’m assuming they’re really all gone now, huh?” Aldina was putting on a strong front, but she had to be in agony. It was a miracle she could even talk.

Jake nodded. He tried to keep a poker face. Shock rattled his heart as he saw the full extent of his sister's injuries. It looked like she’d been cut, burned, and shot. Her breathing was pained, and she was visibly exhausted. At this point, Jake was too devastated by everything else to even do more than distantly note his sister had been using magic.

Actually, the fact that his sister seemed to be channeling magic was likely why she was still conscious. That mystery was solved. She should probably actually already be dead.

He doubted that all of his friends in high school who’d had a crush on his sister would even recognize her now. Of course, any time one of them had mentioned his “hot” sister, or even worse, tried to bring up anything about her body, it’d been gross.

Aldina’s dark hair was matted and congealed in clumps. Her comfortable clothes had been ripped and torn. It looked like one of her arms was broken too. There was a cut bisecting her full lips that thankfully wasn’t bleeding like some of her other wounds.

Jake slowly lowered himself into a sitting position across the room from Aldina and leaned against the wall. He suddenly felt so very tired. Everything he'd been through over the last few days flashed through his mind.

His sister slowly said, "Wow, you are one demonic-looking fucker now, Jake-y-poo. Even while knowing it’s you, I kind of want to scream. Can you make your eyes glow blue whenever you want? I saw your little video a few hours ago. Internet went down for good not long after that. It's weird you are a monster, but it’s also weird that the world is hell and I'm dying and you are supposed to be on the other side of the country right now, so... fuck it." She wheezed a laugh. "My little brother, the ‘Heavenly Grim.’ Hell of a thing."

Jake made a serious effort to speak out loud. He had to concentrate to get the sounds right. It still took about four times too long and sounded like a lion clearing its throat. He managed: "Heaven grim. Old Grim. Me. How?"

"How do I know you are the Grim, my fanged brother?" Jake nodded. Aldina said, "You sent a link to those posts you made about the Purple Rain. Didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out who 'Jake M' was. Then there was all the other stuff you did. Stories came out about the mysterious, helpful monster in Florida or Georgia. You weren’t supposed to be on this side of the country, but you sent that message to us saying you would try to get here in less than a week. It kind of made sense, since nothing makes sense anymore."

Jake growled, "Iterrr-net. News?"

"News has been off and on. The internet usually hasn’t worked right since Purple Rain. Everything was in chaos. News stations and sites have mostly been down. Government took over for a while, but they were useless until they also started referencing your posts. 'Course, everything is down today, probably not going to come back. But you saved a lot of people, bro." She shook her head. “I tried to tell Mom and Dad that you were a monster now, but they wouldn't believe me." Aldina wheezed a laugh that trailed off into a hiss of pain. Her face tight, she asked, "They’re all dead now, huh?"

Jake looked down and nodded.

His sister sighed and uselessly tried covering one of her wounds with her hands. “Mom and Dad told me to come back here. Ordered me to. They wouldn’t argue with me. It was all stupid. The Andersons, Mom, Dad, they had guns, but the Warhounds had at least one mage and some guy in super thick armor. Pretty sure I killed one, maybe two. They pulled one of the bodies back. Didn’t leave them on the ground.

“I hit a few more with ice spikes whenever they poked their heads around the corner, and I was holding up in here... but it was only a matter of time before they got me. At least I was too wounded to rape if they did. Maybe that’s why Mom and Dad made me come back here myself.”

“Fire?”

“Yeah, no real arson, just some fire magic. If they’d been keen to burn the house down instead of steal our shit, I wouldn’t have lasted this long. ‘Course, the only reason they left was the Post Apoc Kings showed up. Or maybe the Screaming Demons. Probably pissed someone was taking shit in their territory. Big fight outside. I stayed in here. Not much choice.” She gestured at her broken body.

Things made perfect sense for Jake now. The Post Apoc Kings, the Screaming Demons, Night Rangers, and the Warhounds had existed in his first life. In fact, the Screaming Demons had killed his family the first time around too. He didn’t allow himself to fall into the enormous ocean of despair he felt opening beneath him. Some of the arcane senses he’d developed in his first life must have been tied to his soul, because he could feel that his sister was running out of mana. She didn’t have much more time.

“You. Magic?” he grunted.

“Yeah, I’m a mage—thanks to you. I took your instructions seriously, followed them to see if I had any power I could awaken. Turned out I did. Studying magic for a few days was a hell of a lot easier than cramming in school. But yeah, I can use magic. A lot of people can probably say the same. You’re kind of famous among some people who are still alive. I’ve heard that some nuts out there are even worshipping you. Wild, huh?” She coughed a laugh that faded as she held one of her injuries that began to weep fresh blood. “I really don’t have much time left, Jake. Little demon bro. I wish I could hear that story, how you got to be... this.” She gestured with one bloody hand.

Jake couldn’t do anything other than helplessly watch her.

Aldina smiled with crimson-covered teeth and said, “I’d ask for a hug, but you suck at hugging, and you look like the devil. Do me a favor instead, would you?”

Jake cocked his head, and she continued, “Kill every last one of those bastards that did this.” Her voice turned ragged, savage. “Get them all. Don’t show any mercy. Destroy everything they care about. Even kill their fucking dogs.”

Yup, that’s my sister, thought Jake.

“Mom and Dad… you would have been proud, Jake. They were so brave. Especially Dad, there at the end. I was only in here for like a minute by myself probably, but... God. They shot through the walls. Unfair.” Her eyes teared up. “I don’t wanna die, Jake. My mana’s almost gone. I’m starting to feel cold. Sleepy. That’s bad.”

Jake mutely nodded.

“I think I am gonna let the mana go and take a nap now. This sucks. You can suck my blood or eat me or whatever it is you do these days as long as you go kill the tampons that did this to us. They were here for resources. They tried talking, but I guess it was taking too long because they just attacked out of nowhere. If Mr. Anderson didn’t have such a good door, that would have been it right there.” Jake watched his sister Dina lie down on the blood-soaked floor. She closed her eyes. “Jake, I…”

Her voice trailed off.

Jake’s stomach turned to stone. He saw something rising from his sister’s body, like a mist, and on impulse, he rotated his chi. With the energy running through his body, he was able to see what it was better, like an outline. It could only be one thing.

Why am I seeing Dina’s soul? Jake thought. It was hard to think through his grief, but he answered his own question.

His sister was a mage, maybe a novice, but she obviously had talent and she also had access to mana. She would have had to touch her own soul to attain this much power, and she would know how to give it away. His sister had meant what she’d said. She’d offered her power to Jake if he needed it to get revenge for their family.

Aldina always had been the strongest Mazzariello. She was the one who’d helped their dad start to get over some of his deepest lows after being diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. He refused to let his sister die. There wasn’t much he could do about her body, but maybe he could still do something for her in the future. He stretched out his fledgling senses and gathered up Aldina’s soul. This was something he shouldn’t have been able to accomplish at his level of cultivation, but he did it anyway.

Once he’d gently secured Aldina’s spirit, he guided it into his ring of holding for safekeeping.

Up until this point, Jake had been as passive as possible and had avoided killing people. All of that had just changed. Now it was game on. Everything had just become very, very personal between him and some looting shit stains out there. They had his family’s blood on their hands.

Jake growled low in his chest as he left the ruined, shot-up house. He didn’t look down at his parents’ corpses again. Monster or not, he couldn’t keep literally staring at his failure and still keep his sanity.

He was angry.

Angry at everything: at Ahriman, the Purple Rain, at the raiders. It all caught in his throat. His family had been killed over food.

Again.

Or maybe batteries. Murdered for fucking batteries.

It was senseless. There were still plenty of unoccupied houses in Macon the aggressive salvage gangs could have raided instead. This little skirmish had likely been to piss off the gang that owned this territory, who the Andersons had likely been “protected” by as much as anything.

Sounded like it had backfired on them after the protecting gang arrived. For all Jake knew, the two groups were still fighting it out after taking off. The vans he’d seen pull out must have either been homeowners or other looters who’d laid low and left after the coast was clear.

As he disappeared into the night to track down his family’s killers, Jake moaned softly, aching for his family for the second time. His eyes burned, but no moisture came out. Seemed ghouls couldn’t really cry.

Then his sadness began to feed his rage.

Jake's heart was like ice. This wasn’t going to be a fight; it was going to be a slaughter.

Chapter 18

Jake had to decide who to attack first. The obvious choice was the Warhounds, the group that his sister said had actually killed his family. He didn’t know for sure where they were located, but he figured that starting where their base had been in his first life was a good start—a private school to the north.

The land between the Andersons’ neighborhood and the private school was heavily wooded. All of the gangs and groups that had formed in the first few months after Purple Rain had valued having remote bases. After all, groups of hostile people were more dangerous than monsters... for now. More powerful monsters would eventually appear and challenge that notion.

But Jake remembered the giants he’d seen on the way into Macon. Things had changed. The gangs and raiders might have already adapted.

His mind worked as he raced through the forest, chest full of fire. It felt like ever since he’d come back to the past and been turned into a monster, he’d been walking on eggshells, trying to be a good person. He had been dreading any conflict with humans. The sense that he hadn’t really wanted to get involved in this timeline had been a constant, nagging limitation he’d put on himself. But all of that had changed.

Trees flashed past, and Jake only paused to kill and drain a ghoul he happened across. His entire attitude had changed. He had killed before in his new ghoul form, but now it felt more natural, like he’d finally accepted his situation and his new body.

Jake was not human anymore. He was not a savior, but just an adventurer who’d been fucked over again and again and screwed by a vengeful god. It felt like he’d spent two lifetimes now watching people he cared about die right in front of him. He’d tried to play by the rules, any rules, for far too long.

Now it was time to do what he wanted.

And right now, what Jake wanted to do was break things.

From now on, if anyone took anything from him, he would destroy them. And he would get strong enough to never be pushed around again, now that he had such a clear path for rapid growth.

But right now, his family’s spilt blood needed an answer.

Jake’s pace through the forest was lightning fast. He was done caring about caution or stealth.

He knew he was starting to get close to his destination when he passed a dark church. Its doors had been boarded up tight. He thought he could smell people inside.

There were not zombies in the parking lot, though. Like the rest of Macon, this area was incredibly free of monsters.

While he ran, he discovered a new ability almost by accident. As he cycled his cultivation base, he suddenly sensed people inside the church. The feeling was like seeing a mist where life existed, but he wasn’t seeing it with his eyes. It was a very strange sensation, and Jake had a feeling it had something to do with his body’s influence on his chi, or maybe vice versa.

Either way, he could feel the location of all ten or so people inside now.

And now that he knew there were living mortals in the church, he approved. The people inside, banding together, were smart. They were doing exactly what he’d suggested people do in his internet posts what already felt like months ago.

Then he crossed a dark road.

On the other side was an apartment complex. Much like the church, he could sense people inside some of the rooms. Some of the apartments had busted out windows, or kicked in doors. A few doors had bullet holes in them. Jake got the impression that after people had begun resisting, whoever was ransacking the place had left for safer pickings.

He was just going to pass the apartment complex when his supernatural senses picked up something that stopped him in his tracks. Jake was already full of anger, spoiling for revenge. So even though he was in a bit of a hurry, he decided to make a stop.

What he was feeling was on the second floor of a corner building in the complex.

At first, he thought about scaling the side of the apartment building. Maybe go through a window. But then he remembered that he was a shadow ghoul now. There were more direct methods of breaking and entering.

It was interesting that the longer he stayed a monster, the more clearly he could feel natural, mystic thresholds around homes. His parents’ home and the Andersons’ home had been open to him and he hadn’t been affected.

He could feel weak resistance now. Apartments generally didn’t have strong thresholds. No thresholds were proof against zombies, but they could help against other things, and even zombies could get through strong ones. Usually, the more powerful the monster, the more they were generally affected by thresholds, at least supernaturally and magically.

A suppressed C-rank monster could still rip a normal person’s arm off.

Meanwhile, Jake was some sort of weird, cultivating hybrid. The thresholds tickled his flesh as he walked down the exterior apartment hallway, but he didn’t feel like they’d offer any kind of meaningful resistance to him. None at all.

Jake stood outside the door and could hear muffled screams. Maybe cries for help. He wasn’t sure how he could hear it, though. His senses were keen, but what he was listening to felt more like a ripple in the ether. There was also a steady drip, drip, drip, that made his hackles stand up.

After Purple Rain, lots of people had died and there had been chaos, so some survivors with latent predator tendencies had really given being a creepy psycho a go. Preying on the weak seemed to have been especially popular.

But what was worse was how whispers in the dark had corrupted some, or given suggestions in dreams. This was how some of the fissure witches that Jake had fought with the Grasshopper Mice had gotten started. Some of the worst, most depraved scenes that Jake had ever witnessed hadn't been from monsters, but at the hands of humans doing horrible things to each other for power.

And he was pretty sure that someone on the other side of this door had joined the party early.

Jake stood still for a moment longer before acting. He phased, and as the world became black and white, he walked right through the door, into the apartment, and situated himself behind a couch before returning to the physical world.

Now that he was in the apartment, he used his senses to get a better idea of its layout.

Soft, arcane muttering came from the hallway. It seemed that the chanter was facing away from the doorway.

A sweet, cloying scent of blood filled Jake's head a moment later. He'd caught a whiff outside before entering, but inside, the smell was stronger than he had anticipated. At first, this confused him—his senses were really very good. But then he caught sight of the caulk all around the edges of the door and the plastic covering it. There were also plastic bags taped over the vents.

Soft sounds of weak crying and screaming through a gag came from deeper in the dark apartment. Jake could hear it now, but the sounds were quiet and getting fainter.

Glowing, angular writing and disturbing symbols covered the walls. The light they gave was new to Jake, a sullen, dangerous violet. But he'd seen similar scenes before and knew that every line had been painted in blood.

Blood of the innocent. He could feel it.

Something in Jake reacted to the blood, but not in the way he might have feared. Instead of hunger, his monster body was making him feel even more anger than he would have already.

The reaction was curious, but Jake wasn't complaining. This was something that needed doing. It helped that his new body seemed to be on the same page.

He knew exactly what was happening here, despite the fact that it shouldn’t be so soon after Purple Rain.

Someone was working to become a fissure witch.

And whoever this scumbag was, they’d gotten help. All of the nearby apartments, to either side of this one, below and above were empty of life. Jake was new to his life-sensing supernatural senses, but he could tell that much.

The care to protect this place, keep it hidden, was not normal. And the existence of the innocents themselves was notable too. People working on their own could take a while to become official, transformed servants of dark powers. But whoever was chanting was doing it all at once. Of course, Jake didn’t entirely know all of this for sure, but he thought he was probably right.

Now he had to figure out what to do next. Mages conducting rituals were helpless, but dark contractors were not. The entire point of a twisted ceremony like this was to make a connection with some ultimate evil. And once the cultist found what they were looking for, it looked back.

He’d only seen the aftermath of something like this before, not the actual ceremony. That had been bad enough. If Jake was still human now, he’d likely be puking his guts out. The air was full of dark magical energy, a miasma. The sigils and esoteric formula on the wall must be containing all of the power inside the apartment, turning it into a capacitor. In fact, he realized that if he had the time and inclination, he could probably even cultivate this energy.

That was not a fun thought.

Jake tried to sneak a peek around the couch and grimaced. This Evil-Inc-onboarding-event was definitely in full swing. He was still thinking about what to do, maybe phase into a deeper room in the house, when he heard a raspy voice announce: “I know you are there. Come out.” While the voice spoke, the muttering and chanting in the background continued.

Well, shit. There are at least two of them.

Despite Jake’s anger, his blood felt like ice. He was here to exterminate, and he was willing to do whatever he had to in order to accomplish that goal. He slowly stood up without making any aggressive moves.

What stood before him was a big, expensive-looking doll, the kind that older ladies who smelled like baby powder would like to spoil little girls with at the mall before Purple Rain. Its eyes glowed the same color as the evil script on the wall. While it wasn’t holding any weapons, Jake’s mage senses that he still somehow had could recognize that magic field around the thing. It was protected, and the energy functioned like a loaded gun too. All of its magic mojo was currently pointed at Jake.

Behind the doll, he could catch sight of a feverishly working and chanting old man wearing nothing but dirty tighty-whitey underwear. The man was using a paintbrush on the walls, dipping it into a paint rolling tray. Jake could smell the fresh blood from where he was standing.

Now that he could see the entire room, Jake understood how the walls of mystic script, basically a giant spell working, had been created. There were several broken circles of chalk scattered around the room’s veneer floor, big ones. Some might have been swept up already. Jake was able to quickly recognize how the wannabe fissure witch was standing within an ominous, energized circle.

The man had put one side of the circle directly against the wall. Now that Jake was watching it work, he understood how it all functioned. The blood on the paint brush didn’t break the circle as the chanting cultist basically channeled evil energy inside into his glowing script.

Jake wished he’d known this information in his first life. How fissure witches were actually created had still mostly been a mystery even when he’d died. There were different ways for a human to become a fissure witch, and the leftovers of rooms like this one had been found before. But if any adventurers had witnessed the process in Jake’s first life, they hadn’t lived to tell the story. In fact, there had been extra bodies at some locations that hadn’t belonged to the sacrifices, probably some poor bastard that had wandered into the ceremony.

The existence of those bodies, sometimes obviously having died right before the fissure witch was born, was how Jake had assumed there would be a guardian present.

And the reason he knew the work itself could kill was because there had been evidence of that too.

The animated doll was menacing just standing there. Its eyes glowed brighter in surprise as it said, “You aren’t human. But I feel a human soul.” It narrowed its glowing eyes before slowly nodding. “Yes, that is a fine specimen, I do not recognize it. You are obviously not human in form, but I sense a human soul. A servant of one of my master’s siblings, I presume.”

Before Jake met The Morrigan, he would have had no idea what the fuck this thing was talking about. However, now he could only thank God for fortunate misunderstandings. Jake had already accepted the fact that he was standing in a dark apartment glowing with evil energy, talking to a creepy, powerful, animated doll, while some psycho painted on the wall with fresh blood and children suffered in another room.

He would have liked to just attack, but doing so without the element of surprise would be stupid. It was possible he could try a Demonic Contradiction Wave attack, but he hadn’t practiced with it. Such a volatile attack would not be a good option either. If it didn’t work, he’d be giving himself away.

If it worked too well, he could end up blowing up himself or the sacrifices.

In fact, there was so much energy buzzing around the apartment, he might blow up the entire block.

Now was time to do some improvised acting. He remembered how The Morrigan had understood his moans as a zombie, so he didn’t try to speak clearly, just growled, ‘You are on my master’s territory. I was sent to find out what you are doing.’

The doll cocked its head. “I find that hard to believe, as my master took over this territory without any opposition.”

Jake thought quickly, and basically just repeated back what he’d just heard. ‘There was a change?’

“Yes. My master originally had control of the land this world calls Mexico. However, some of his brethren have allowed him to settle here and invest his power more quickly. You should know this. You are a child of the night and wear the body of a powerful creature of darkness.” The doll’s eyes flashed and Jake felt a strange, probing feeling. “Ah, your soul is practically dripping with demonic energy, but I cannot place it. How curious. There is something blocking my vision. You are lucky, indeed. If I were to destroy you now, I would likely get no answers for my lord. So instead, we can continue to talk.”

The doll’s face didn’t move, but Jake could tell it was smirking. Its unmoving face between golden locks was quite a contrast with the glowing eyes. How it communicated expressions so well was a mystery.

Mexico? Jake thought. He remembered several things at once and the situation grew much more real, and more dangerous for him. He’d been a stupid zombie at the time, but now he could remember what The Morrigan had told him more clearly. She’d actually given him a freebie. What had she said, that the catastrophe in Mexico would not happen in the same place again? That’s right. She’d said it would happen near the place of his birth. Georgia.

Holy shit, thought Jake.

The light, mystic touch of the animated doll had been enough for him to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this thing could destroy him in a straight fight. But Jake had years of adventuring experience. When a good, honest brawl was out of the question, it was time to be sneaky and ruthless.

What do all evil creatures have in common? Selfishness, thought Jake. Okay, that’s half the puzzle, but this doll obviously doesn’t believe me that I didn’t know what it was up to, and it’s not attacking. Why would it think I’ve really come? Hmmm. Then he got an idea. Now he had a half-formed plan of how to act and how to take advantage of the situation.

‘You are almost finished with this ceremony, I presume?’

The doll’s eyes flared again, and its voice dripped amusement as it said, “I have no reason to answer that question. State your business and be honest about it or I will be forced to destroy you, or at least the vessel you are using. I will do my best to attack you through your link if I do.”

And that told Jake everything he needed to know, the last piece of the puzzle. He hoped.

Chapter 19

Jake briefly recapped everything he’d reasoned about the situation.

Alright, he thought. This thing thinks I’m a powerful, evil mage, maybe even a god’s champion. Hell, it’s probably a champion. It is most likely working for Tlaloc, the god responsible for the disaster and enslavement of most of Mexico in my past. The real reason it isn’t attacking me is likely because it doesn’t want to damage the spell working on the walls. Jake had noticed the glowing lines behind him immediately. They actually ran past the couch he’d been hiding behind, so it had likely been pushed around a few times as the muttering lunatic worked. This meant the spell was in the line of fire if the doll opened fire, magically speaking.

Jake continued thinking, Since it doesn’t believe I’m here ignorantly, it must think I’m after information or to sabotage. I haven’t actually attacked the working, though, and I obviously could, so it must think I’m either afraid, or only after information. Maybe I can use that.

In fact, it must be sure that I came in here for information. If I’d only wanted to destroy the working and disrupt this ceremony, I could have burned down the building. After all, it thinks I’m an evil god’s errand boy. That would mean I wouldn't give a shit about killing the sacrifices or handful of people that are still hiding around here. No, wait! Actually, maybe it thinks I’m here for personal reasons! I am way, way more powerful than most other monsters running around so far after Purple Rain, just like it is. Yeah, that might be it.

His mind whirred as his plan began to take more solid shape. I know through Morrigan that evil gods work against each other, and their champions probably do too. This thing believes it is more powerful than me, and likely is, but it’s cautious and doesn’t want the working to fail. It’s obviously here as a facilitator or bodyguard. Maybe it’ll be punished if this fissure witch isn’t born.

Jake could remember how everything had played out in Mexico, how vampire hell had come to Earth. He thought, I can make a guess about why this fissure witch is being made. The portal hasn’t been opened yet and they need to build the troops up first.

So again, why is the doll talking to me? The answer hit him almost immediately after he’d organized his thoughts. To stall for time. Definitely.

Jake mentally nodded. He’d been a mage for a while in his past life, and he was pretty sure the working was almost finished. So the doll will probably go balls out and try to destroy me after the fissure witch is born. But it believes I’m here remotely, and likely not in any absolute mortal peril. That’s interesting. Since I’ve already seen the working, now the doll’s objective is probably to allow the drawing man time to finish becoming a fissure witch. Meanwhile, I’m just standing here talking, just like the doll is, and it must think I am aware it’s stalling...Alright. I know what to do. Project sucker punch.

Now that Jake thought he had fully grasped the situation, he asked, “So you will not answer any questions?”

“Of course not.”

“Too bad. But I had to ask, though. You know how it is.” Jake shrugged, which had to look very strange for a shadow ghoul to do. He was reminded that this doll-thing had no idea what kind of monster he actually was, though it couldn’t. That had to be useful too.

“Perhaps,” said the doll.

Jake noticed it hadn’t placed itself between him and the muttering witch-to-be. It seemed more concerned about the spell than the caster. Jake thought he might understand why. The chanting cultists had a glowing magic circle on the floor, and Jake remembered the burned corpses of people that had been found near the birthplace of witches.

He nodded, and then he committed, acting on all of his assumptions and hoping he wasn’t about to be proven very, very wrong.

‘Perhaps we can make a deal.’ Jake stood casually, like he negotiated with animated dolls in sacrificial apartments every day.

“A deal?” The doll made a gesture with one cold, unliving hand. Its dress fluttered in a nonexistent wind.

‘Yes. Perhaps you can give me a taste of some of the innocent blood I smell.’ Jake flared his nostrils. ‘It has been flavored with all of this power too. I am sure you know how rare such a thing is, at least to find such a thing steeped in energies other than your own.’

Jake silently thanked his past self for all of his magical studies. He was spouting straight bullshit right now, but it was close enough to how some secret, evil magic might really work that the doll might believe that his motivation for coming, or at least for saying, had been selfish.

This entire plan hinged on whether the doll really couldn’t figure out which dark god it thought he was in service to, how far it was willing to go to protect the magic working, and how much longer it would be before it was complete. If Jake didn’t have time, he was likely going to be fighting a brand-new fissure witch and whatever the hell this doll was any second.

“Why would I do that?”

‘I am very clumsy,’ Jake said. ‘Especially while using this creature’s body. It would be a shame to accidentally have an accident and damage these walls, wouldn’t it?’

“That would be very... unwise.”

‘I agree. We should avoid it at all costs, right? I am sure if I were to get a taste of some delicious innocent blood, it would help me keep my focus.’ Jake smiled, showing all of his sharp teeth.

He felt fairly proud of his acting. Jake was actually basing his performance off of a necromancer he’d killed with his first adventuring team. The man had been as evil as the day was long, but he’d had a certain... style. Like a Bond villain.

The doll’s eyes dimmed, perhaps in thought. Finally, it said, “Your threats have ensured that I will do my best to burn your soul, or whatever you have in place of it one day, but I can accommodate you now. Two of the chattels have died, but there are two left. You may do what you want with one of them.”

‘I understand,’ Jake said. He wasn’t sure how formal his agreement had been or if it could be magically binding in any way, but he crossed his fingers behind his back just in case. No tingles or other strange sensation touched him, so it had likely been unnecessary.

“Come,” said the doll. It turned and walked deeper into the dark apartment.

Jake followed and noticed again how the doll didn’t seem particularly worried about the chanting man, the would-be fissure witch. This was interesting and confirmed some things. First, like he’d reasoned before, the doll was not worried about the man’s safety. Second, it assumed Jake would understand this. And as Jake passed, the man didn’t even glance at Jake, just kept writing in blood on the glowing wall.

As the doll led the way down the hall, Jake was tempted to ask its name, but decided not to. Names were a big deal in the supernatural world, and he’d noticed that the doll hadn’t asked his name either. There was a chance that not asking might seem suspicious, but it might be even more suspicious if he did.

The hallway walls had been completely covered in glowing spell script. Evil energy permeated the air. If Jake had still been a mage, the pressure of the surrounding magical miasma would not have allowed him to cast a single spell, or even start one.

Now that he was closer, his magical sight let him see the defensive barriers around the doll’s body in detail. They were good.

About halfway down the hall, Jake cycled his cultivation base and used his life-sensing ability, experimenting on a hunch. His theory was correct. This close to the doll, he could actually sense where the mage controlling it had attached a soul point.

It was a dark, ugly mark, but still glowed with a tiny hint of life.

Jake wasted no time. He drew his saber, applied Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing, and slashed the glimmering blade precisely at the point he’d identified.

The doll’s defenses offered some resistance, but Jake had abandoned magic in his first life for Cultivation precisely because the energy it afforded was so much more potent. For instance, flash step could penetrate right through most magical barriers, and he’d assumed Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing, a stronger, deeper technique, would allow his blade to do the same.

It turned out he was right.

As Jake’s saber sheared through the doll’s arm, precisely severing the mystic link, it screamed.

For just a moment, a giant shadow loomed in the hallway, a hulking monstrosity behind the doll. It turned and glared at Jake with three baleful eyes full of violent promise before it faded and the doll collapsed.

He wasn’t dumb enough to let his guard down, however.

Jake spun his cultivation base and concentrated, searching the rest of the apartment with his senses. From the outside, it’d been hard to tell, but now he was sure. The doll had been telling the truth about the remaining human lives. But Jake sensed something else too.

The apartment wasn’t very large and the hallway was narrow. His saber had been great as an ambush weapon, but now Jake put it away. He could feel something behind the door at the end of the hall, maybe a bathroom.

Suddenly, he was painfully aware that the chanting, painting cultist’s circle was almost directly behind him. If he were pushed into it, that would be bad.

Jake rolled his neck and loosened his shoulders before taking a few more steps forward. And predictably, the door at the end of the hallway exploded. Jake barely got a glimpse of burning purple eyes before a creature was almost on top of him. If he’d have been human, he would have flinched away from it.

But Jake wasn’t human anymore. He was far stronger than he had been in his past life, stronger than any of the Grasshopper Mice. Now he was a shadow ghoul, and the vampire rushing at him was out classed. Jake was at least a low C-rank monster. Basic vampires were E-rank rank, or maybe very low D-rank.

Of course, there were two of them, which made things a little more interesting.

Jake didn’t retreat. He stepped forward. As the first vampire screeched and reached with clawed hands for Jake’s face and neck, he snapped his rigid hands out to pop the creature’s arms wide. Then, as it continued forward to bite him, Jake raised one arm, cracking the creature in the jaw with an elbow.

And as the vampire stumbled back, Jake lunged forward to bite its throat. The move wasn’t something he really had to think about. It was instinctive now. He tore the other monster’s throat out with a savage yank of his head and kicked it back down the hallway where it collided with its fellow.

Then he spit and pulled a revolver out of his storage ring. He aimed and unloaded four .38 Special +P rounds, courtesy of his revolver from Tifton, into the two thrashing monsters as they practically tore at each other, both tangled and trying to rise.

Jake’s bullets slammed into the two creatures, penetrating both. The surrounding apartments had been emptied. If he over-penetrated downward, it wouldn’t hit innocents... hopefully.

He studied the vampires as he moved forward to end things. They were definitely both very low-ranking. Each of them sort of looked like a cross between a zombie, a ghoul, and a human, but with some reptilian facial features. Jake had only seen a vampire once in his previous lifetime, and it hadn’t been alive.

They were proving just as hard to kill as he’d heard.

The one he’d mauled was bleeding heavily from multiple wounds, but was also still struggling to get up. It would have already if not for the other one.

Jake knew mundane wounds would eventually put down a vampire for good, but it could take a while without cutting their heads off, and he didn’t want to get that close quiet yet. The things were designed to last through damage so they could kill, drink blood, and heal themselves.

Most of their mythical weaknesses were grounded in reality. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to make any stakes and didn’t have garlic, but Jake smiled as he pulled a small bottle of holy water out of his storage ring. It was one of three he’d swiped from his parents’ house before he’d left—they’d had it left over from something at church. Part of him was curious whether it was real, but he decided to give it a shot anyway. So, after he carefully took the lid off, he threw the whole thing on the struggling vampires.

Both creatures had been hissing and spitting, but the moment the water touched, they screamed—a terrible, bone-vibrating sound. Their efforts to get up became frantic.

One of them, the unbitten one, actually managed, running at Jake on all fours, but it was blind in agony and didn’t even dodge as Jake planted his heel in its face.

Bones crunched, and the thing flew down the hallway. Where the holy water had sprayed the walls, the evil energy flowing through the glowing script actually recoiled away. It felt like the entire apartment trembled before the script seemed to push through again, slowly going back to how it had looked before.

The vampires moaned as they died, but Jake didn’t believe in leaving things to chance. He wanted to make sure the nasty things were down for good. He drew his saber again and used powerful, economical motions to cut the creatures’ heads off.

Then he hesitated. Should he rescue the captives now, or kill the cultist? His original plan had been to rescue the children he’d sensed first, but if he had to fight a fissure witch in the next few minutes, he likely wouldn’t be able to protect them.

If he died or had to escape, they would die.

He turned and deliberately walked toward the chanting cultist after sheathing his saber again. The walls were beginning to glow brighter. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but it clearly wasn’t. In fact, the bit of space that the unkempt man was painting on was the last bit of unmarked wall in this part of the apartment.

Jake understood why the doll-thing had been confident. If Jake attacked the walls directly, it would likely blow up the entire apartment.

The cultist was well protected, at least from the perspective of cleanly killing him and depowering the room’s magical working. Jake didn’t dare try to break the circle directly or attack the cultist with holy water, not after seeing what had happened when a few drops had splashed the wall. If he threw a bottle right in the heart of all this energy, it would create a more violent explosion than attacking the walls would.

Jake squinted and used his mage sight. The protective circle was laced with incredibly potent energy that Jake recognized now as divine, or maybe demonic. Either way, it would be suicide for anyone to cross other than attuned creatures that resonated with the specific energy. Magic would be blocked entirely. It would also break down and destroy anything unliving and unattuned that crossed it.

Trying to stab the man with a spear would result in a stump of wood. A thrown knife would burn to smoke.

The doll had assumed Jake was a human mage controlling a monster. It had most likely believed that Jake’s remote self would be in danger if a dark god were provoked, and the doll hadn’t even considered Jake would try. But Jake grinned without humor. There was no need to break the circle, not really.

The most powerful supernatural evils were often arrogant and narrow-sighted.

Jake reloaded his revolver.

The man in the circle seemed to finally register Jake’s presence at the last second, and his eyes widened before Jake emptied the entire cylinder.

The barrier turned the bullets to slag, incinerating them, but the projectiles had been moving at around 900 feet per second. They’d also only needed to cross a few feet before reaching their target.

With a scream, the man stumbled back, dropping his grisly brush. Molten lead and copper bullet jacket had painfully peppered his flesh. The attack hadn’t killed him outright, but had been more than enough to get his attention and break him out of his trance. He was bleeding and burning in dozens of spots. The dirty man fell on his ass and rolled completely out of the circle.

Jake was on him in a flash, grabbing a handful of matted hair and yanking the man up to full height. He could actually see the faint glow of his eyes reflected on the man’s whiskered face. The cultist cried out in terror, clawing with broken fingernails and screaming gibberish.

A weak hand batted at Jake’s face, but he just ignored it. When the man tried to throw a power-less punch, Jake grabbed the disgusting man’s arm and bit all the way through his wrist. His hand flopped uselessly, held onto the arm by a hunk of flesh. The man screamed louder.

Jake could smell innocent blood on the man. He could see two flickering lives still feel deeper in the apartment. They made him furious. He would have never bitten someone’s hand off in his past life, but he was beginning to accept the fact that he was a monster now.

And who better to fight monsters than a monster?

Chapter 20

Jake regarded the sniveling man with a sneer. But before he could so much as raise a claw, the sinister light in the apartment grew brighter. He felt something manifesting in the circle.

The man gibbered and clawed at his eyes with his remaining hand, continuing to scream in a language Jake had never heard before. Jake watched the circle warily. He casually hit his captive in the head hard enough to daze him.

In seconds, Jake was staring at a huge, horrifying face that filled the entire circle the cultist had just been working in. Goggle eyes, filled with malice, sat above a fanged mouth.

Jake felt an incredible amount of pressure, even from a tiny sending like this that had been contained in a magic circle. He kept a strong front, but every fiber of his being recoiled. Jake felt extremely grateful that the evil energy in the apartment itself apparently hadn’t been strong enough for the god to manifest in.

The entire room was filled with the stench of burning rubber.

“Let go of my servant,” the god growled. “Do as I command and you will be rewarded. Disobey me and I will destroy you.” It stated this as a simple fact.

Jake had met a god before. Two, actually. There were a few ways he could play this, and with a nasty grin in his heart, he realized exactly what he was going to do.

‘Why should I?’ he asked, his words coming out as growls.

“Do you know who I am?” the terrifying visage snarled.

If Jake had had a heart, it might have burst when the god flexed his power. Despite this visage being like a tiny tip of an enormous iceberg, the power of the sending even penetrated the circle. When Jake noticed his prisoner’s foot creeping toward the circle, maybe to break it, he took a step further back and brought the sniveling wretch with him. Oh no you don’t, fuck stick, he thought.

Out loud, he said, “Of course I do, Tlaloc.”

Jake knew all about Tlaloc.

There were worse gods that had made themselves known after Purple Rain, but Tlaloc had taken over Mexico and some of Central America during Jake’s first life. After the initial bloodbath, some humans had been allowed to prosper, but they’d paid for it. This was a god that demanded human sacrifice and preferred children.

Jake had read reports that Tlaloc’s mortal priests murdered and ate babies.

Nobody had been entirely sure why so many of the god’s servants and monsters had been vampires since that bit of info hadn’t been in any of the god’s myths, but Jake understood now. This was all a game to the gods. Maybe using vampires was something he’d picked up over time, or part of their current rules. Jake was beginning to understand the rules of the gods’ sick game better.

“What is your name, mortal? I sense a familiar energy on you.” Tlaloc’s voice roared, and Jake’s soul trembled.

“I’m not going to tell you that.” Jake laughed. It didn’t surprise him that a god could see right through what he was. “But I have a message for you.”

“Speak.”

“Ahriman sends his regards.” Jake smiled nastily, averted his gaze, and very deliberately drew his long, sharp pinky nail across wanna-be fissure witch’s throat.

As the man gurgled, Jake kept his eyes closed, not daring to glance up. He’d already been pushing it, and he did not want to be directly looking at Tlaloc when the god predictably lost his shit.

Tlaloc’s roar shook the entire apartment building. Jake didn’t turn around. Instead, he picked up a pan from the nearby kitchen floor and hit his dying captive in the temple as hard as he could. His enhanced strength practically pulped the cultist’s head, and he instantly died.

Like a flickering lightbulb, the violet glow in the apartment began to fade, and Tlaloc’s furious screams vanished as well.

Only after the god was gone and the apartment was pitch dark again did Jake finally smile and relax. ‘Fuckers,’ he hissed. Maybe this could generate a misunderstanding that would at least inconvenience Ahriman. One could dream.

Now that everything was over, he gave himself a moment just standing there to experience all the pent-up stress and fear he’d been suppressing. His body shivered, and he concentrated, cycling his cultivation base until he’d calmed.

Jake pulled a flashlight out of his storage ring and pocketed it. He didn’t need the light to see, but he might need it later. Then he went to find the living captives. On his way down the hall, he noticed that one of the vampires had dropped a monster core and he bent to pick it up before moving on.

In one of the apartment’s bedrooms, Jake found four twin-size bed frames against the bare walls. A child had been strapped to each of them. Two of them were corpses now. One had been bled to death and it looked like the vampires had eaten the other. Jake had seen some horrible things in his life, but he still paused at the scene.

In his first life, there had actually been people who argued that the United States should join the Tlaloc’s empire that had sprung up in the south. They’d said that pockets of life were good, and people there were protected from the wild monsters on the rest of the continent. Tlaloc’s empire was like any other religious state, they’d argued.

But Jake was a simple man. He still thought any religion that required killing, torturing, and ripping the hearts out of children should be exterminated. Curfews enforced by roving bands of ravenous vampires didn’t sound like a happy way to live either.

But some people would almost be willing to accept any way to live as long as they had some sort of stability to cling to. This was something Jake had witnessed firsthand, and it still boggled his mind that some people would prefer to be a slave with a routine than stay free and live with uncertainty. It was madness.

Jake would rather spit in the face of death itself than ever be livestock. But he’d seen the pictures of people handing over their children to high-ranking vampires in exchange for food.

The worst sort of evil that had come to Earth after Purple Rain was the kind that could wear a veneer of civilization. This was the kind of evil that some people had the hardest time rejecting.

Fissure witches and others that sold out their fellow man for power filled Jake with rage, but those who gave everything up for the lie of safety, or comfort, made him even angrier. They were not even honest most of the time about their true motives.

Jake tenderly cut the bonds of the dead children. He would not be able to lay them to rest, but he could do this much for them. The thought was full of regret. But after he turned, he bumped himself in the head with a palm as he remembered his storage ring. With a wave of his hand, Jake stored the corpses of the two, both little girls who’d been around ten years old. He would give the bodies to someone later for a proper burial.

The two living children were a boy and a girl about the same age as the two who had died. They had been being used as blood banks for the grisly writing on the walls. Both of them had an IV attached to rolling hangers, keeping them hydrated. What looked like a nail had been driven through the leg of both children. One of them was slowly being bled as Jake watched. The nail had been pulled up a bit, allowing a steady drip, drip, drip of blood into a paint roller pan like the one the cultist had been using.

Jake clinically wondered what kept the blood from congealing in the pan before he noticed the small, simple magical working on it.

Both children were gagged and entirely restrained, wearing nothing but filthy underwear. Jake wished he could bring the cultist and the doll back to life to kill them again.

Actually, maybe not the doll. Too risky.

Jake found an old sheet in a corner and tore strips before tying crude tourniquets around both children’s legs above their wounds. He removed the IVs and made crude bandages there too. Then he used his sharp pinky claws to cut their bonds. Both children were thankfully unconscious.

He didn’t know if one of these two had been screaming for help earlier, or one of the dead ones. Didn’t want to think about it.

It would have been handy if he could put the two surviving children in his storage ring, but that was impossible for living things. He was going to need to carry them, which meant he couldn’t phase out of the apartment.

Jake lifted the two victims as gently as he could and headed for the door. He briefly thought about kicking the door down, but decided against it. Instead, he just opened the deadbolt from the inside. It still took some force to free the entry from all the caulking, but he managed. Some unused tubes of caulk and a caulking gun were near the door, discarded, and Jake stored them away. Then he left and closed the door behind him. He wasn’t sure if leaving the apartment closed would hinder any other evil fucks, but he hoped so.

Burning it down would have been best, but there were still other people hiding nearby.

At first, he wasn’t sure what to do with the two little kids he was carting around, but then he had an idea. He cycled his cultivation base to locate an apartment in another building that had people in it. His senses told him that one apartment in a shadowy part of the complex had four people, two adults and two children. Where the building was located meant it had a decent chance of being overlooked by looters and monsters too.

Jake moved there without a problem.

Once he was outside the ground floor apartment he was targeting, Jake set down the children he’d rescued as gently as he could. He felt another flash of rage at how they looked. Their wounds and condition looked even more terrible outside in the starlight. The little boy had blond hair that had been caked with blood, while the other captive still had a bracelet on, a little pink thing that said ‘”love” in sparkly letters. Her dark skin had dried blood all over.

They weren’t his responsibility, but Jake couldn’t just leave them.

He phased into the apartment, appearing in an empty bathroom. After he’d appeared, he heard a drip on the floor. With a start, he realized he’d actually been wounded, probably in the fight with the vampires. Jake tsked. The wounds would close soon, but they reminded him to be more careful in the future.

These people must have lived in this place a long time. The apartment had a fairly robust mystical threshold for a rental, but it didn’t bother Jake at all. He realized why. Jake kept thinking of himself as a monster, but he did still have a human soul, after all.

Sometimes, Jake couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, thinking about random things he’d learned while he’d been a magic geek. It’d been a long night, but there was still a lot more to do, and more people to kill. He needed to finish this errand.

While he wasn’t willing to look away and not do what was obviously right, he didn’t want to take all night with it either.

Jake stepped out of the bathroom and spotted the family. They were all huddled together in the family room. A single candle provided some light. All the windows had blankets taped over them. Smart, Jake thought. He wondered if they’d read his internet posts about Survival 101.

He had no way to gently let these people know he was there, and eventually decided he didn’t have time to worry about it. None of them seemed to have guns, so they weren’t a threat to him. The man had an axe. The woman had what looked like a sharpened mop handle nearby. Both little boys were sleeping on a couch.

Jake spotted a crucifix on the wall and grabbed it as he moved down the hall. He wasn’t worried about any danger to himself, but preventing these people from having a heart attack would be good. Jake couldn’t help how he looked, though. Maybe the crucifix might help—he wasn’t sure how yet, though.

He knocked on the wall as he entered the family room. The woman was the first to turn and her eyes grew round as saucers. She uttered a squeak and breathed in, preparing to scream. Jake rushed forward, supernaturally fast and clamped a hand on her mouth.

The man began lifting his axe. Jake very slowly, very deliberately shook his head no. The man fired off a few lines of rapid-fire Spanish at the woman while not taking his eyes off Jake. His expression was full of horror, but resolute. The man glanced at the two little boys on the couch who were somehow still asleep.

Spanish, huh? thought Jake. He spoke Spanish horribly but knew a little bit. After holding up the crucifix, he spoke in his horribly raspy voice, “No tengan miedo.” Do not be afraid.

He tapped the cross against his forehead. “Soy el Grim.” I am Grim. Hopefully, these people had heard of the Grim.

As the adults stared at him with shock, he tried to search for words in his limited vocabulary. “No soy mal,” he finally said. I am not evil.

Then he willed his eyes to glow blue, and said one of the first phrases he’d ever learned in Spanish. “Ayúdeme. Por favor.” Help me. Please.

Jake handed the crucifix to the shell-shocked man and placed one finger across his lips before slowly removing his hand from the woman’s face. She looked like she was about a hair away from fainting, or losing her mind, but was barely holding on. Her breaths came in little pants.

After he stood, Jake went to the door. He unlocked it and went outside to get the two children where he’d left them. Then he carried them into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

The woman seemed to snap out of her daze when she saw the victims. With a burst of speed, she rushed to them and covered them protectively with her body. She barked Spanish at Jake that he couldn’t understand.

The man put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “No, Gloria.” Her eyes flashed in equal parts fear and anger, but the man shook his head again. He turned to Jake and said, “El ángel.”

Did he just call me an angel? Jake wondered. Ultimately, he decided it didn’t matter.

Around this time, the two boys woke up, but the man noticed even before Jake. He clamped a hand over both their mouths, and spoke softly, urgently, in Spanish. Both children had eyes as big as saucers as they looked Jake up and down.

Jake ignored them all. He sniffed loudly, theatrically, pointed at the door, and took the caulk and caulking gun out of his storage ring. Then he sniffed and pointed until he thought they might understand.

He quickly put caulk around the edges of the door. It should be enough to help prevent average monsters from smelling the family. When it was dry, it might also make the apartment at least a little harder to break into too.

Jake moved over to the family again and squatted, hopefully making himself less intimidating. Then he pulled a few useful things out of his storage ring, including some medical supplies, clean towels, food, a few bottles of water, some medicine, and weapons. He handed a shotgun directly to the man, and just in case the stocky, swarthy guy didn’t know how to use it, Jake slowly and clearly displayed how to rack the slide, load shells, and clear the chamber. Jake even showed the silent man where the safety was.

The woman put a hand over her mouth where she knelt on the floor, her other hand on the bruised body of a would-be sacrificial victim. She crossed herself, Catholic style, and said something to Jake that he didn’t understand. All he caught was “dios.” So, something about God.

Jake smiled in what he hoped was a comforting way and said, “Sí.” Yes. He hoped he was agreeing to something good.

With one last glance around, he figured he’d done all he could. These people’s lives were in their own hands now. The injured children would be a burden, but Jake had given the family some good supplies. With one last mental shrug, Jake phased and went through the wall before moving to the edge of the apartment complex.

This entire stop hadn’t taken too long, but for the first time since he’d become a monster, Jake felt like he’d done something decent. It was also the closest he’d come to losing his unnatural life so far. The experience felt... like it’d been exactly what he’d needed.

The rage from finding his parents murdered less than a half hour ago was still there, and Jake still planned to kill some gang members that night. He felt like his emotions were floating in the time period before eventual crushing grief, when his heart felt heavy but he could still function. His overall plan for the night hadn’t changed, but now he could feel the glimmer of something past just getting revenge for his parents.

Maybe after he avenged them, he could honor the memory of his slain family by tearing apart every fucking monster and dark gods-worshipping asshole he could. That would be a good way to go out.

All of the mercy had been burned out of Jake before he’d even become a zombie. But he was beginning to feel something new. Maybe he could live on spite, and even do some good with it.

Jake’s eyes glowed blue as he rushed through the forest. He was nearing his real target now. There was no way of knowing before he got there, but he hoped the Warhounds would be there.

In the past, before he’d died, Jake had hated violence. He’d approached every mission professionally and he’d always felt bone-weary after life-or-death struggles.

But right now, he’d never felt physically better.

Part of him quietly wondered if this was a good thing or not.

He thought about the children he’d just rescued, and the fact that he’d managed to destroy a fissure witch before it’d even been born. Jake had to accept that what he’d just done had been something he never would have been able to accomplish by himself when he was still human. And after all of that, he wasn’t even tired.

Jake hadn’t chosen this existence; it’d been forced on him. And sure, he was worried that it was changing him, but his family was already dead. The world was falling apart. What else did he have now but to use this power? Was he going to just… vanish into the forest to mourn his family forever? Make some crappy fort like he was participating in a survival show and live off of rabbits? As a shadow ghoul?

Something was growing in Jake. Maybe it was righteous anger, maybe he was just tired of being yanked around by bullshit ever since Purple Rain—twice—but Jake was sick of it all. He was tired of seeing normal people be forced to hide, die, or give up their dignity.

Jake couldn’t save everyone, but maybe he could kill a whole hell of a lot of bad guys.

And maybe if he got strong enough, he could even find and destroy that demon thing that had caused all the Grasshopper Mice to die in his first life.

If good things were done through spite, weren’t they still good? Jake had watched evil win what felt like his entire life, it had just become more obvious after Purple Rain. He just wanted them to lose now.

As Jake raced through the woods, he decided that he was done playing by any rules that didn’t get results. If he’d been more willing to break rules or even just scare people, maybe he would have been in time to save his parents. In fact, maybe his cultivation teacher had been right after all. It was galling to admit, but the longer Jake lived, the more it seemed like the grumpy old man had been right. Cultivators as a whole weren’t known for being the merciful types, apparently.

He was too old and too seasoned to beat himself up about his parents’ death, but he also refused not to learn from it. His grief would be much easier to bear if he could find a way to keep moving forward. Power itself would never be Jake’s only goal, but it was a goal, a means to an end.

Jake was sure now that he had to get stronger. Convictions without power were just wishes.

With this new resolve, a feeling of something he’d recently lost began to grow again: purpose.

The small part of his mind that had been complaining went silent.

Chapter 21

José lowered himself down, hands first, and let loose a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. From her position on the floor, Gloria met his eyes. She was trembling.

Christopher and David were quiet for a few seconds, but then David began to cry. Christopher showed uncommon maturity for his age and comforted his little brother, putting a hand on his arm. He also gently covered his little brother’s mouth to keep him from making too much noise. He had been adapting to the new, dangerous world a little bit faster than David had.

Out of the corner of his eye, José saw Gloria shudder, and remembered what had just happened again. Their... visitor had put a hand over her mouth, hadn’t he?

That entire situation had been so frightening, his heart had almost stopped. One moment, the family had been huddling in the dark with barely any light to keep them company, wondering what in the world was going on outside. The next moment, a dark intruder had crossed half the house in a flash and put a hand over Gloria’s mouth. He’d held up a crucifix.

José’s memory was already fading, almost like it was too terrifying to hold on to. The specter had looked like a monster from the abyss, but must have been an angel. The crucifix hadn’t burned him, and he’d even said, “Do not be afraid,” like the angels in the Bible.

He vaguely remembered that angels were supposed to be frightening to behold. José wished he’d paid attention better in church.

But an angel? Here?

Gloria was convinced, and José had thought so too, but now he was not so sure. Their unexpected houseguest had had massive teeth, a lean body, and his flesh had seemed to ooze floating darkness. The creature’s ragged clothing had just made him seem more bestial.

José had never seen anything like it. But as frightening as he’d been, he had moved with an obvious gentleness while bringing in the injured children.

Right before he’d sealed their door, given them weapons, and disappeared through the wall.

The two unfamiliar children laid out on the floor brought José back to more pressing realities. It wasn’t quite time to zone out yet. “Gloria, we need to do something for these children,” he said, in rapid-fire Spanish to his wife.

“I know.” She turned to their oldest son. “Chris, take a flashlight. Go get a half pan of water from the bathtub. David, go with your brother and get the alcohol burner. We need to heat some water.”

“Mother, I’m scared,” David sobbed. The boy sniffed, holding in more crying. He was only seven years old, and still only half asleep. Both boys appeared to still be affected by what had happened earlier, even before the nightmare-looking creature had brought them two injured children to look after.

Christopher didn’t ask any questions or mumble about fears like his brother. He just slowly got up. The older boy seemed to be in shock, but he kept staring at the injured children on the floor too. He took David by the hand and took his brother to do what his mother had asked.

Once both boys were up, José scooted closer to Maria on the floor and examined the new children. He winced when he saw their wounds up close.

“What is happening to this world?” his wife whispered.

“Forget the world, what just happened to us?” José muttered. He wheezed a quiet, desperate laugh.

“I do not know. That was the most frightening experience of my life, but I feel like we all handled it better than we might have. What if we had offended him?”

José began to stand. He was mentally and emotionally drained, but he would do his best to save the hurt little boy and girl on the floor. “So you really think he was an angel?”

“I don’t know,” Gloria said. “He didn’t know Spanish well, and he didn’t seem to understand most of what we said, but you were there.”

“Yeah, I know,” José said with a nod. “He didn’t respond to much, but when you asked if he was going to save us all, he said yes.”

“That’s right.” Gloria said. She took a breath. “He was an angel of the Lord.” She crossed herself. “Covered in the blood of evil, savior of the innocent. You felt it. He was a destroyer for good.”

José examined a nasty wound on both children’s legs below a dirty tourniquet and winced. “What makes you so sure? Besides the fact we are not dead right now, of course.”

Gloria smiled grimly. “You were there, José, my heart.”

“Yes, yes, I was.” José shook his head, thinking about the chain of events.

It’d started about twenty minutes ago.

There had been vibrations in the air at first. Gloria had been on watch, and she’d woken him up, but he’d already been half awake when it’d started. Something had felt like it was squeezing his heart.

The boys had been half awake at that time too. But then a heaviness had filled the air, like being at the bottom of a deep pool. It’d knocked the boys asleep, but José and Gloria had just panted, feeling an incredible pressure. Their skin had crawled. The feeling had been indescribable, like their hearts were being squeezed with barbed wire.

Then the entire apartment complex shook, like an earthquake.

At first, José had thought something like Purple Rain was happening again. But then he’d realized what he was feeling: evil.

Something big and deep had been out there in the dark.

And just like that, it’d vanished.

Not long later, the victor had shown up, dropped off two injured children, and left.

Now José could barely hear Christopher or David opening a drawer in another room. “Do you think our children will be alright? That had to be shocking to them. It was for me.”

“I think so. They are children. Besides, I think Christopher can understand that we have two other little souls who need us right now.” Gloria gestured at the injured two on the floor. “He has a very good heart.”

José absently nodded, thinking. When Christopher came back with a pan and Gloria began getting everything ready to start cleaning up the injured children, José spoke again. “I don’t agree, love.”

“About what?” His wife smiled sadly. “We sure are tough now, aren’t we? Everything that happened tonight, and we are just doing what we have to.”

“What we have to.” José nodded. “Evil has already come to this world in a way I didn’t think was possible.” After David brought in what his mother had asked him to get, she sent both boys back into the rest of the apartment for bandages and medicine. José turned to his wife and asked, “How did you know he was there, in the hallway? You looked up before he moved and covered your mouth.”

Gloria shivered uncontrollably. “I saw two points of blue, like little balls of fire staring at me from the dark.”

José nodded slowly. “I don’t think he was an angel, Gloria.”

“Why?”

His wife was devout, and José could tell she was sure about her belief, but she also respected him enough to listen.

“Because I didn’t feel anything pure or holy from him. Maybe some goodness, but he felt like... a sharp blade. I’ve met very dangerous people in Mexico before we came to American. It was sort of like that, but stronger, and without any darkness. Just dangerous. Neither good nor evil.”

Gloria slowly nodded. “Maybe you are right, but I believe something, José. Good and evil will always fight. I know you felt it a few minutes ago. Something pure evil was in this apartment complex and it went away right before the angel appeared. He had the blood of monsters on him. The feeling I got was that he’d just fought a battle. I know what I saw, and anyone or anything that protects the innocent is at least not on the side of evil. He could have hurt us, but he helped. Nothing was asked for in return.”

“That is true. I hope you are right.”

José sighed. He couldn’t deny that he felt more secure with the shotgun lying nearby now. It was crazy how his family had moved to America to start a better life, and that decision had probably already saved them all.

Gloria had not been able to get ahold of her family at all after Purple Rain, before communications had gone down for good. Something horrible might have happened.

José could only imagine what it was like back home.

Gloria busied herself on the floor, gently cleaning wounds of the unconscious children, and as José watched in amazement, her hands began to emit faint light. The room was dim enough that he could clearly see it.

“My love, you’re glowing!”

With one hand on a little leg, Gloria began to quietly weep. “I think... I think I can really help them, José! This is... I can feel it. It’s like I have been gifted by the Holy Spirit.”

“Praise God.” José crossed himself. “A miracle! You just awakened!?”

“Yes. It must be. Look, the wound is closing!” Sure enough, the skin on the wounded child’s leg was already showing improvement. “The messenger gave you tools, and I have received a tool too.”

“Maybe,” said José. He sighed. “You know what this means, right?”

“Yes.” Gloria continued to work and didn’t look back as she whispered, “With power, real power, comes responsibility.”

“That’s what both our families taught us, love. Yes. And they were right. It will be hard with four children to look after, but…”

“One thing at a time, José. Let’s save these precious ones first, and we can figure out what comes after that.” She shook her head. “Two weeks ago, I would not have been able to handle this.”

“I know.”

“But we are strong.”

“I know. We have to be.”

“Christopher is becoming strong too.” José couldn’t see Gloria’s face, but she could see in the shadows thrown by the light of her new healing power that she’d wiped away a tear. “I hope that he becomes a good man.”

“Now who is getting ahead of herself?”

After a pause, Gloria chuckled softly. “True. One day at a time.”

They were both silent for a while, even after the boys wordlessly deposited medicine and bandages next to their mother and sat on the couch to watch. José thought Christopher might have noticed his mother’s new light, but didn’t say anything. David either didn’t notice or pretended he hadn’t.

Or maybe they’d seen it, understood, and hadn’t thought it worth asking about after the night they’d had. After all, this was the Purple Rain World now.

José’s heart felt heavy as he thought about the world his two boys would be forced to grow up in now.

If they survived.

He shook his head. Those were thoughts that could wait until he tried to sleep, when thoughts would race around his mind like rats made of shadows and fear. Every night was the same, there was no point in feeding his darkest worries any more than he had to.

José glanced up at his wooden faced sons. “Boys, what do you think just happened? What do you think of the angel?”

“The monster helped us,” David said. “I think he was a good monster. But let’s not open the door again for a long time, okay?” He held his older brother’s hand in a white-knuckled grip.

José shared a quick smile with Gloria. “What is that expression? ‘From the mouth of babes’?”

Gloria turned to her sons. “Boys, I want you to go lie down on the floor on the other side of your papa and face away now.”

Christopher frowned. “But, Mama—”

“Now.”

“Okay.”

As the boys got on the floor and tried to get settled, Gloria met José’s eyes. “Something terrible and amazing has just happened,” she whispered for his ears only. “I will never forget the name ‘Grim.’ I will pray to Saint Michael to watch over that creature if he is a warrior of God. If he is not, I will ask that Saint Michael use Grim as a weapon to destroy as many other agents of evil as possible.”

“That sounds good to me.”

Gloria nodded. Most of her attention was on what she was doing now. She said quietly, “I hope, angel or not, that Grim spills the blood of evil many, many more times.” Her eyes flashed. “I hope he makes them pay. May he be covered in the blood of evil forever.”

“We can agree on that, my heart. We can agree on that.” José put a hand on her shoulder and watched in fascination as she used her new power to help save the wounded innocents on their floor.

And he vowed that if anything came through that door for his children, or the two who’d been entrusted to him, he would put his new shotgun to work.

José began to pray.

* * *

Jogging through the forest, Jake sneezed and suddenly had an incredibly strange sensation. He felt like he was being watched, maybe even like something in the dark was amused with him.

The feeling was strong enough that he stopped for a moment.

But even after staying still and cycling his chi, probing his surroundings with all of his senses, he couldn’t detect anyone or anything nearby. Probably nothing, he thought, and kept running.

He would find out in less than five minutes if the Warhounds were actually based at the school.

Chapter 22

Well, I guess that question is answered now, Jake thought. He flared his nostrils and observed the school-turned-gang-base before him.

Part of him felt bewildered that he wasn’t more emotionally distraught. His head was cool. He’d been through a lot even since just seeing his parents’ corpses an hour ago, but he was completely functional at the moment. There were lots of reasons for this: it was the second time he’d seen his family dead, he’d literally lived in hell before, and he was a monster now.

Which was working in his favor. His new body actually seemed to help him avoid falling into despair.

But these were all more complicated ways to say he’d changed.

Jake wondered if he could actually be called human anymore. Probably not. He wasn’t sure yet whether he thought that was a bad thing. Being a zombie had given him a new perspective on existence. As long as he didn’t have to try existing as a zombie again, maybe he could endure anything this new life threw at him.

The Warhounds’ compound was laid out in a fairly clever way. Fences—the kind that were often used at concerts—ringed the entire area but positioned with plenty of space between the barrier and the forest. Each fence had bags of concrete laid out on their feet to keep them solid.

A magical working had been laid on each section of fence. Jake stared at one with his mage vision until he finally nodded, understanding what had been done. All of the fences worked as an alarm. If a monster touched one, it would create some sort of light as a signal.

Another row of fences, shorter ones, stood about five feet inside the first barrier. These ones were electrified, probably charged by solar.

Knowing this, Jake eyed the rooftops from his hiding spot and noticed armored men in elevated guard shacks, armed with crossbows. He would bet everything in his storage ring that they also had firearms handy in case of an attack by humans.

The Warhounds seemed to only be using two or three buildings in the school grounds. This was wise, since that way, they weren’t spread out too far and their communication would be easier. Maybe another building had family members living inside.

Jake ducked lower as a golf cart with two armed men drove by. One man shined a powerful flashlight, searching the perimeter.

This group probably only had a few dozen people in it, and Jake thought the way they were handling security made a lot of sense. Most of what they had to fear was probably from other people and the occasional wandering monster. Unlike some other places Jake had seen, Macon was relatively monster-free.

He assumed that the men with crossbows on the rooftops were probably using their weapons to dispose of zombies quietly so sleeping gang members wouldn’t be disturbed. Most ghouls would likely look for easier prey.

Stronger, more dangerous monsters definitely already existed in the world, but not in large numbers yet.

Jake grinned wryly. It hadn’t been very long since Purple Rain. He might have imagined that his posts on the internet had led to compounds like this, but he knew better. Armed paramilitary groups had formed quickly in his first life too. Hurricanes had never caused this level of banding or organized capability for violence.

Normal disasters where people were scared were one thing, but Purple Rain had changed the world.

Most people had probably witnessed people being killed and eaten within the first day. Millions, if not billions of people had died or been changed into mindless monsters. Reports on the radio or on the internet that made it through would have shown horrors upon horrors without any messages of hope. It didn’t take long under conditions like that for some people to act like animals themselves.

Even good people would withdraw, try to protect their own, and become suspicious of strangers. People who were away from home would do what they could to join up with other groups. Or like-minded, or nearby people might form groups like this one. All for security in numbers.

Jake’s advice on the internet for everyone to stay indoors had been because he knew some people reacted to incredible stress and uncertainty in very strange ways. Wandering around or looting too early was a great way to die. In his first life, people had even actually tried to protest current events, claiming the government was responsible.

Monsters had eaten most of them.

Groups of can-do people often banded together. Some created communities of people who helped each other out of self-defense. But other groups formed for the hell of it, or for a feeling of control, or of power. Some of these groups even started out with noble intentions but grew into pockets of predatory assholes over time.

The Warhounds hadn’t been one of the worst groups of his first life. But things had changed now that they’d killed his parents. The Warhounds sure had a nice base, though.

Jake would admire the practicality of their compound if he weren’t about to wipe them out.

He needed to make it snappy too. Running into the fissure witch ritual on the way here had unsettled him, and he had some big questions that still needed answers. He knew he couldn’t save everyone. Heck, he hadn’t been able to save his own family. But he’d developed a special hate in his heart for fissure witches in his first life that had only gotten stronger after death.

Jake was tempted to just pull out some gasoline from his storage ring, or use his new Demonic Contradiction Wave to blow the hell out of everything in the compound, but he wasn’t sure how many attacks he could make. He was not invulnerable either. Even though he figured that he might technically be a C-rank monster now, he didn’t have any kind of protection barrier.

There were also explosives, fire, magic, and all sorts of other issues to worry about. He frowned as he thought about it. Being a shadow ghoul wasn’t so bad, but he wasn’t that much more durable now than he had been in his first life, just a hell of a lot stronger and faster. If he could heal like a normal ghoul, he’d be better off, but that wasn’t an option.

It meant he would have to be sneaky, or at least formulate a plan.

Jake began following the fence line, sticking to the forest and remaining out of sight. He moved northwest, taking the long way around.

This school had two entrances to the nearby road to the east. The Warhounds had blocked off the nearest one, so Jake would eventually come near to the only exit in the northeast once he’d done about 50% of the compound’s circumference.

Most of the illumination near the edge of the former school was being cast by solar lights and tiki torches. Jake spotted a few powerful floodlights on standby, the type that were used at construction projects. They were all hooked to generators. He figured if there was an emergency that these would be turned on.

Actually, now that he thought about it, if this group was smart enough to set up their compound this way, he could probably also assume that at least half of them were awake. Being alert and ready to respond to problems at night would be common sense.

Jake hated smart enemies. They made everything much, much more difficult.

After he’d traveled about a quarter of the way around the school, Jake stopped in his tracks and cocked his head. A feeling he’d never expected to encounter again so soon had just tickled his supernatural senses. He had been cycling his cultivation base as he’d studied his enemies, but he quickly turned his attention in the opposite direction.

The sensation tugged on his dantian.

Holy shit, Jake thought. No way. I’ve never heard about one of these here.

But the feeling was unmistakable.

He’d located another challenge portal.

Jake slowly sank onto his haunches, watching the compound before him while also making careful mental note of where he’d just felt the portal. He’d never heard of one showing up in this area before, but he could think of several reasons off the top of his head. Maybe nobody had found it before it’d disappeared. Another possibility could be that someone found it and died before it had vanished, or found it and survived and either didn’t tell anyone, or died before telling someone.

But the most likely reason was because dark gods were probably trying to turn Georgia into the evil factory that Mexico had become in his first life. This would change everything, magically speaking.

Jake couldn’t feel it, but there had to be a lot of power descending on this area. The fissure witch ritual he’d interrupted had likely not been an isolated incident.

He’d been avoiding thinking about the entire thing, though. Jake frowned. If he really started thinking too much about what Ahriman and his asshole buddies were trying to do, he might feel a sense of responsibility about it, and Jake wasn’t sure if he wanted to play that game yet. He wasn’t naive enough to think that he wouldn’t end up being used by someone or something. So, if and when that time came, he wanted to really know his own mind before jumping in feet-first.

It seemed weird to begin having such a serious conversation with himself in the middle of a mission to kill a few dozen men, but he couldn’t deny some of his feelings anymore. Something big was going down in his hometown, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could ignore it.

After spending a few more seconds thinking about it, Jake shook his head and decided to get on with what he was doing. He’d made a promise to his sister. It was true that with his family dead, he didn’t feel much of a purpose, or really much personally connecting him to this world anymore. But he would honor his promise to his sister... maybe without the part about killing dogs, though. Jake liked dogs.

From inside the compound, he heard shouting. Some men walked from one building to another. New lights cut on. Some sort of commotion seemed to be taking place at the gate of the compound. Engines rumbled and the area grew brighter as vehicles turned in from the road.

There didn’t seem to be any monster attacks taking place, so Jake was as curious about the new, higher alert. He kept moving around the perimeter of the school until he got close enough to the gated entrance to see what was going on better.

Jake stayed hidden and cycled his cultivation base to improve his senses further.

Quite a few Warhounds were manning the gates or standing behind the fence. They were all armed, and all had the red “W” armbands that the Warhounds wore. Jake figured this was how his sister had identified them too. Most post-Purple Rain bands had some kind of identifying mark or even wore uniforms. Jake’s Grasshopper mice had worn hats, bandanas, or shirts with the team’s logo on them.

Humans and our tribalism, Jake thought with a smile. What tribe am I now? Team monster? He felt a pang of deep, despairing loneliness before dismissing it.

Facing down the Warhounds were a caravan from the Post Apoc Kings. A number of Post Apoc Kings members had come from the area around the lakes and had money prior to Purple Rain. This soon after forming, it showed. Most men in both groups were still using weapons they had owned before the world went to hell. The Warhounds had decent guns, but nothing too fancy. A few standard pistols, lower-end pistol caliber carbines, some budget AR-15s, and plenty of pump shotguns. Their melee weapons were baseball bats, axes, and machetes.

But a few of the Post Apoc Kings had some seriously impressive hardware. With Jake’s keen night vision, he checked out their weapons and felt a moment of jealousy. One of them even had a skeletonized, competition AR-15 with a higher-end variable magnification optic. A few of the men had ACOG optics on some very sweet-looking rifles. There was a slender man who had a pair of raceguns—what looked like tricked-out 1911s—on both hips, superhero-style.

One of them even carried a katana, and a pretty good-looking one from what Jake could see.

All of the groups that had formed in Macon had mostly been neighbors and friends before Purple Rain. There were always smaller, more nimble groups too, and pre-Rain gangs often stayed together for a while.

The Post Apoc Kings had been weekend warrior types before the apocalypse with a few competition shooters in their ranks. Most members of the Warhounds had been working-class people. The Night Rangers had kind of been everyone else, with an eclectic mix. Of course, class distinctions had mattered less and less after Purple Rain in Jake’s first life, but right now, people still seemed to be most comfortable around people they still related to.

Both sides Jake was currently watching were putting on a strong front, but he could smell stinky fear from at least a few of them. It looked like both sides were about to have a showdown. Jake remembered his sister saying that the Post Apoc Kings had chased away the Warhounds from the Andersons’ house, and the situation suddenly made a lot of sense.

Jake crawled forward on his belly silently, getting closer so he could listen in.

“...and you expect me to believe that?” snarled what looked like the leader of the Post Apoc Kings. He was a short, middle-aged man wearing what looked like real military body armor. A shemagh hung loosely around his neck. His vehicle’s KC lights up top were on, his jeep idling. The vehicle was turned at an angle, and he had his body positioned mostly behind the engine.

Jake was impressed. At least some of these guys, maybe on both sides, were prior military or law enforcement. Actually, some of them might have been cops before the world went sideways, so it made sense that they’d know what precautions to take.

In all reality, Jake didn’t know what kind of experiences they’d had. It was entirely possible that both groups had already been dealing with raiders. It seemed like organization and inter-survivor violence had been accelerated this time around.

“Believe it or not, but I’m telling the truth.” The man speaking was tall and had a beard. His overalls mostly hid a modest beer gut that probably would be gone in a month. He stood on an elevated platform behind the gate to the school-turned-base.

Nobody on either side was actually pointing weapons at each other yet, but Jake could tell they were about a hair’s breadth away.

One man, an overweight guy on the Warhounds’ side, had manifested bony spikes on the backs of his arms and up to his shoulders, punching right through his shirt. An awoken, Jake thought. Some people had awoken to powers during and after Purple Rain.

Jake’s mage senses also pinpointed gathering energy. Both sides had at least two mages, or some kind of other magic-slingers.

If he hadn’t just spoken with his dying sister, this might have surprised Jake. Now he knew he might personally be part of the reason more people had discovered magic so quickly.

Jake was interested in this confrontation for a variety of reasons. At this point after Purple Rain, when most people would be running out of food or drinkable water, violence between survivors was bound to erupt. Maybe the Post Apoc Kings would help him kill some Warhounds.

“Was it just my guys’ imagination that Warhounds were running around my territory, stealing shit and mercing people?” the King leader demanded. “If it was a figment of someone’s imagination that burned the hood of that truck over there,” said the man, pointing, “I’d love to hear about it. One of my people is in critical condition right now.”

“It’s not rocket science, man,” drawled the big Warhound. “It wouldn’t be all that hard to make or find what we use for ID.” He pointed at his own armband. “It wouldn’t be hard for someone else to fly Warhound colors, just like it wouldn't take a genius to wear all camo like you guys do. Besides, like I told you, I don’t have any people like the ones you chased. No fire mages at all.”

The King leader shook his head. “Why would I just believe you? I wanna see all your vehicles. We shot the one we were chasing. If you have the make and model, the holes will prove it.”

The Warhound leader took a puff on his cigarette and breathed out smoke before sighing. “Come on, man. You know that’s not gonna happen. Even if it were us, would we be dumb enough to come right back here? And if these folks aren’t back yet, are you just going to camp out at the gate? If you do, what will stop them from ditching the vehicle somewhere else? Besides, why would we rob from our neighbor? You don’t shit where you eat, right?”

The other leader crossed his arms over his armor. “So, what now?”

“The way I figure it, this can go a few ways. I suppose someone could start shooting and most of us will die. That would be the dumbest, lose-lose choice. Or we can recognize that someone is playing us. Hell, maybe we could even act like we still have a little bit of civilization left and figure out who is impersonating my people, because I’d sure like to put a bullet in them.”

The man spit, then offered a nasty grin. His eyes glinted and some of his people muttered behind him. Anger was in the air, underscoring a promise of violence.

Jake narrowed his eyes. The tension at the standoff hadn’t relaxed at all, but now it was shifting. If the two groups started fighting, he would pay attention again, but he doubted they would at this point. Not only that, he believed the Warhound leader. Jake’s mind began to turn over what he knew.

In his past life, the Warhounds hadn’t been too bad of a group. The leadership had mostly been construction types who’d tried to keep their people from being too big of bullies. After his sister had told him the Warhounds had killed his family, he’d just assumed that the ripple effects he’d caused had changed everything. Maybe that wasn’t the case, though. Now he could put his finger on what had been bothering him about this entire situation—it hadn’t made sense earlier.

Jake briefly thought about saying to hell with the consequences and delivering a Demonic Contradiction Wave or two, taking his frustration and anger out on the two groups before him.

Ultimately, doing so would be unjust. Jake might be a monster, but that didn’t mean he had to act like one. Besides, even if he wanted to go on a rampage, it currently wasn’t worth the risk.

These were at least a few dozen angry, frightened men who were itching to kill something as much as Jake was. Some were in vehicles or otherwise sheltered. Many would survive whatever Jake could possibly do as an opening salvo. This was not an action movie, where all the bad guys could be assumed to be a horrible shot or otherwise inept. And Jake didn’t have any kind of natural barrier. Even though he figured that he was technically a C-rank monster now, he could still be killed by firearms.

So whether he used a firearm from his storage ring or one of his Daoist arts, he couldn't be sure to wipe out his enemies, and couldn't predict whether they might start fighting each other. They might come after him. His Demonic Contradiction Wave was flashy, and firearms had muzzle flashes. If he attacked, he might have a hail of bullets coming back at him. Jake didn’t plan to ever underestimate human weapons the way supernatural assholes always seemed to.

No, he needed to continue being cautious, and more importantly, he needed more information. Hell, these people might not even be his enemies. Everything had changed too much and was too complicated. He felt like he was flying blind.

And he still needed to get revenge for his family.

That mission hadn’t changed.

Killing some random people and calling it a day would be a horrible travesty of justice. He wanted to make the true killers pay.

Then there was the fissure witch ritual, and how some random, out-of-shape cultist living in an apartment had somehow had a room full of restrained children and monster backup.

Jake watched a moment longer before making a decision. Maybe if he found out a reason to, he would still do his best to wipe out the Warhounds, but he couldn’t justify it right now. No, he needed to do some poking around.

Also, now that he’d run into a couple of actual groups, he was feeling a little under-gunned. The world was full of dangers but there was only one Jacob Hessian Mazzariello. He wanted to keep his monster ass alive for the time being.

Jake had a lot of problems, and he needed time to think about what to do. Time to grow would be nice too.

Luckily, Jake had just sensed the nearby challenge portal. He pulled his dark lips back from his teeth in a mirthless grin as he melted into the dark forest. It would be a little bit of a risk to enter the portal, but one thing that was true for all challenge portals was the time differential. No matter how long you spent inside one, only moments passed in the real world.

Maybe Jake could use that.

He needed to find an edge. He also needed to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on in Macon. To do so, being a shadow ghoul was a good start, but not quite enough.

Since the moment Jake became a zombie, he’d instinctively known that trying to cultivate natural energy would destroy him. Now he felt the same level of certainty that if he started digging up whatever was rotten in Macon, he would not succeed as he was.

It was awfully lucky to have bumped into this challenge portal, maybe even suspiciously lucky.

Jake had learned to be skeptical as a mage, and he was not willing to discount the fact that some or other god was pulling strings somewhere. Maybe even The Morrigan. But as long as he didn’t have to pay for it, he’d take any boon he could find.

His first life had taught Jake a very important lesson: without power, principals and plans were just wishes. Nobody can protect themselves or others without strength. And it usually took risk, or hard work, or both to become strong.

Jake cycled his cultivation base and let the pull of his dantian lead him to the new challenge portal. Hopefully, this one would be as easy to cheese as the last one had been.

Chapter 23

Once Jake found the portal area, he took a look around. Everything seemed okay, or at least there was no imminent danger nearby. He briefly considered finding some more monster cores before entering the challenge portal, but that would have required hunting down monsters first. This far out in the woods, there weren’t even any monsters around. He could almost pretend it was a regular night before Purple Rain.

He hesitated before going in, however. Jake worried about sustenance once inside. Being a zombie had sucked, but he also hadn’t had any real needs. Now he got hungry. Having a few more monster cores would make him feel a lot more confident about a long stay, but there was no telling how long his time inside the portal would take.

Jake thought about his situation for a moment. He was a relatively powerful monster for this early in the apocalypse. But he was going to likely kill a lot of people after finding out who was truly responsible for his family’s death. Jake knew he was strong now, but he was not invulnerable.

He was still angry, just suppressing it. Fighting with righteous fury felt good but it could backfire. Usually did for most people. Rage could make people strong, but not brilliant.

If he died from enemy gunfire or magic, he wouldn’t be able to finish avenging his family. Aldina’s soul would be in limbo in his storage ring.

And Jake also wasn’t sure what would happen when he died.

He didn’t exactly fear death, but he also wasn’t sure who actually could lay claim to his soul now. One thing he knew for certain was that he didn’t want Ahriman ever getting his hands on him, much less for eternity.

It was tempting to go in guns blazing, or to nuke his enemies from a distance with Demonic Contradiction Wave attacks. That would be dumb, though. Jake had made it a lifelong habit not to underestimate his enemies. It was what had kept him alive through his adventuring days.

Unfortunately, his natural inclination toward caution also forced him to acknowledge where he was lacking before entering the challenge portal. As a zombie, he’d had a lot less to lose. So now he felt underprepared, but he also didn’t want to chance missing out on this opportunity. Challenge portals could vanish at any time.

With a mental shrug, Jake entered and found himself standing in a woody glen, but the nearest trees were all made of metal. Glowing stones poked out of the ground here and there. The Faceted facilitating this challenge portal stood on what looked like a large stump, except it was made of metal. Jake would have assumed it was an incredibly lifelike sculpture if he hadn’t seen the metal trees nearby.

The area appeared to be outdoors, and the sky was overcast, with an orange hue of light coming through. He turned around.

Jake was immediately on his guard. This was not a challenge portal that he was familiar with, which meant the Faceted would be an unknown quality too.

The Faceted did not greet him right away. Instead, it studied him, or at least Jake thought so. Sometimes it was hard to tell what Faceted were ever actually looking at since they didn’t have any features.

But as it remained silent, his hackles rose.

This was not normal behavior, and Jake grew even more wary.

Finally, it said, “It is unmistakable. I have read the mark of your successful completion of another Assessment Room. This is most curious.” As usual, its words had been transmitted directly to Jake’s mind.

For a moment, Jake thought about how to reply, but eventually opted to not say anything. He just regarded the facilitator levelly.

This standoff persisted for at least half a minute before the Faceted spoke again. “You are not a natural, mortal being. In fact, I have never actually seen anything exactly like you are before. But it seems you are somehow still born of your world.”

Jake stayed silent.

“You have a soul.”

‘Correct,’ said Jake. He didn’t take the extra time to speak clearly, so his words came out as growling noises. ‘A human soul. And I am a warrior.’

“Most curious.” The Faceted was still acting oddly, standing still. Usually, they had readable body language. Whether it was just to mimic humans, to set them at ease as they entered the challenge portals or not, nobody had ever known. The way this one was staying so motionless made Jake believe all their normal gesticulating really had all been a scam.

Its reaction was a little confusing too.

Jake knew he was a special case, but he had a hard time believing that nobody had ever entered a challenge portal with a strange or inhuman body. Then he admitted that he wasn’t just changed, he was a permanent monster now, and he remembered that this time period was during the start of the Purple Rain era. Maybe this Faceted wouldn’t be so thrown if this meeting were happening 15 years in the future.

Finally, the Faceted launched into the standard challenge portal spiel. It said, “This is an Assessment Room, where you will be challenged and can receive a reward based on how you are ranked. Ranking will take place in a way your species understands, from F to A, with S and even SS being possible for the mightiest or most talented. At rank S or SS, a second reward may be chosen from the highest tier rewards possible, and more rewards will be available to choose from than at lower rankings. Do you understand my words so far, warrior?”

‘Yes.’

“Good. Now I must tell you that you are allowed a team for this Assessment. Do you wish to wait for others or go alone?”

‘Alone.’

“So be it. This choice has been factored into the final makeup for your trial.” The Faceted cocked its head for a moment. “This Assessment room’s challenge will be in two parts. The second will be an elite, or ‘boss’ fight. Each area will be an actual, natural place in the universe that you will be transported to. The space may be artificial, but its inhabitants won’t be. Are you still following my explanation?”

Jake’s mind whirred as he tried to remember everything the Faceted was saying, or might not be saying. ‘Yes.’

“Good. You have three themes to choose from. The fir—”

‘Themes? Please explain.’

Jake thought he might be feeling an emotion from the Faceted for the first time. Irritation.

“Each challenge theme focuses on one creature archetype. The three themes you have to choose from are rabbits, giants, and mermaids.”

That’s new. I’ve never heard of this challenge before either, Jake thought.

‘So I just need to pick one?’

“Yes.” After a long pause, the Faceted said, “Would you like some advice?”

And suddenly, although he didn’t know its name, Jake thought he might know who this Faceted was. ‘Yes, I would. Can you help me?’

“I can give you advice, since you asked for it.” Now Jake was even more sure. “It is my opinion that you should choose the rabbit theme.”

‘Why is that?’

“Because its theme is a weaker type of monster than the rest.”

‘I see.’ Jake put his chin in his hand and made a big show of pondering it. ‘And how many rabbit creatures are there compared to in the other themes?’

The Faceted didn’t say anything at first, so Jake repeated his question. It finally responded, “More of them.”

‘Oh, okay.’

Jake hid a smile. Now he was sure of it. This Faceted was The Advisor. It didn’t show up very often, and its setting or room that it used wasn’t always the same, but it always asked if the adventurers or person challenging the Assessment Room wanted its advice. Then it would generally proceed to give the worst advice possible.

‘Will you answer any more questions?’ Jake asked.

“No. Make your choice, please.”

He’s been expecting that answer. These things didn’t want anyone to perform well or go in with any prior knowledge.

Jake thought about what he knew. Choosing rabbits would be a terrible decision; he’d already ruled that out. He would never trust a Faceted.

The other two choices were giants or mermaids. A normal person new to real monsters might choose mermaids, but Jake knew better. Unlike cute cartoon stories, real mermaids were dangerous and were part of the reason why sailing anywhere on Earth was practically suicide after Purple Rain. Plus, The Advisor had said that the challenge would take place at real places, likely where these things actually lived. Mermaids were aquatic. Jake could just imagine an asshole Faceted dumping him in the middle of some alien ocean somewhere.

So that left giants. Jake was a little leery about this since giants sounded scary as hell, but that might have been the point. He couldn’t ignore that The Advisor had suggested rabbits, and Jake was absolutely sure there was no way a Faceted had his best interests at heart.

He could always give up on a stage if it was too dangerous. The Faceted seemed to love kicking a challenger out of a portal with every bone in their body broken, a moment from death. There was usually a delay between giving up and the stage actually ending.

The trick was not to give up at the last possible minute.

Giving up would not be forfeiting the entire challenge, but it would affect one’s rating at the end. A popular strategy for many adventurers who found challenge portals was to go all-in on one challenge stage they were well suited for and sandbag on the rest of them to avoid injury or death.

Of course, giving up was also something people hadn’t known about when the challenge portals had first been discovered. This Faceted likely had no idea that Jake knew all of the rules.

With all of that in mind, Jake said, ‘I choose giants.’

“I see. Then step to the area before me, please. The circle.”

Sure enough, a pale, glowing band of runes had sprung up on the stony ground.

Jake had made his choice, so he stepped into the indicated area. Then, as he felt a space-time transition beginning to occur, probably, The Advisor said, “Good luck with your challenge! Perhaps you would have fared better had you listened to my advice. Now we will likely never know.”

Uh oh, Jake thought.

The Faceted had sounded very pleased with itself, maybe even smug. Happy Faceted usually meant bad news for adventures.

Jake felt a powerful flash of worry before he was sucked into the void.

Maybe he had chosen wrong after all.

Chapter 24

After the transition, Jake experienced a moment of confusion and disorientation before his senses cleared. He was standing on a level area on top of a rocky outcropping. The sky was overcast, and the only light came from the horizon, with a dim, reddish hue.

Something on the air smelled bad. In fact, Jake was beginning to feel a definite sense of similarity in some ways between this place and the hell world he’d existed on before dying.

Suddenly, one of the distant hills moved, and Jake blinked as he realized it was alive. Giant, he thought. Must be.

The giant stood and resolved into a huge, vaguely porcine-looking creature that had to be at least sixty feet tall, maybe even one hundred feet tall. Judging the height for something so large at a distance could be tough. Its enormous tusks had moss growing at the base. Piggy eyes idly swept across the landscape as it turned and lumbered to another area, ponderously dropped to all fours, and began scooping at the muck.

Jake suddenly realized that almost all the area he could see other than the rocky ridge he stood on seemed to be dominated by swamps, or dark, scrub-filled areas between swamps. There were flying animals in the sky, either birds or bats.

Then Jake extended his senses and felt a flash of mild surprise. The place he was in—or world he was on—was steeped with dark energy. It wasn’t ideal to cultivate, but he could still probably refine this energy for his own use.

A rock at Jake’s feet began to glow softly before he heard a voice in his mind say, “Your task is to kill as many giants as possible. The trial will be complete as soon as you touch the glowing stone on the ground in this location. Touching the stone without having killed at least one giant will result in failure.”

After that, the voice disappeared and Jake was left on the rocky hill, feeling the warm wind ruffle his torn clothing.

The first thing he did was make a mental note of where the extraction point was. His internal clock was still messed up, but all of his Daoist senses were otherwise functioning just fine. That done, Jake knew that needed more information.

Well, he thought, let’s check this place out.

* * *

Jake kept his distance from the giant, sticking to the rocky hills that seemed to circle the large swamp he’d appeared by, and separate other swamps from each other. Each swamp area had one giant, and all of them seemed to do nothing but dig around in the muck, eating... something.

The giants were truly hideous. Their huge, blocky bodies were strangely proportioned. They were distressingly naked, but Jake still couldn’t tell what sex they were. Maybe they weren’t male or female. Matted hair, or maybe fur, covered their backs and most of their limbs.

Something was tugging at Jake’s instincts, so he didn’t approach the swamp too closely. Instead, he just kept to the rocky areas and continued scouting. Being stealthy seemed silly since all the giants were so far away, but Jake kept it up. There were only two trials for this challenge. The fewer trials a challenge room had, the harder each usually was.

And Jake hadn’t forgotten the Faceted’s smug tone.

He managed to find a handful of cave systems in the rocks. Most were not very large, but they were a welcome sight. The giants made Jake a little nervous, and having a place to escape to or hide in made him feel a little more confident. He could imagine how happy the asshole Faceted would be if it could dump him back on Earth, mostly flattened, a half second away from expiring.

Any of these giants could crush him like an empty can.

It was dark outside, and pitch black in the caves. But none of it was a problem for him. He had his shadow ghoul vision.

To be thorough, Jake checked out each cave that he could find. In addition to discovering bolt holes, he wanted to make sure nothing nasty might be inside, waiting to catch him off guard. He used his new fledgling life detection ability as well. The surrounding energy interfered with his senses, but his detection still seemed to work out to a shorter distance. He didn’t see anything living other than rats and other standard swamp creatures.

So far, nothing.

Something still wasn’t right, however. Jake stayed wary. The giants were way too straightforward a threat. He didn’t trust it.

The world seemed stranger the longer that Jake explored. Despite the dim light, there was still a decent amount of heat in this place. Jake figured it was around 80 degrees Fahrenheit. There was little to no breeze, and the smells just lingered.

He crept down from the rocky ridgeline, slowly approaching the swamp where the giant was digging around. The dry land full of scrub and brush in this area, what he was starting to think of a biome, was shaped like a peninsula, surrounded on all sides by the swamp. And of course, all of it was contained within the stony ridges.

The way the biomes were set up didn’t look natural. Each one almost seemed like an individual holding pen for the giants. They seemed like they could easily escape, but maybe they didn’t feel like it. Jake didn’t know. He was just making wild-ass guesses. Landry had always called them WAGs during his first life.

Suddenly, Jake’s instincts and senses screamed at once.

He acted immediately, smoothly lowering himself down into the mud between two shrubs, staying completely still.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, but he didn’t get complacent. Jake didn’t move a muscle. Then, as he watched, something came out of the ground about twenty yards ahead of him.

There was no way to tell if anything in this world cultivated or could feel his abilities. He hid his aura as best he could, and with the lightest of touches, he slowly circled his cultivation base while constricting his meridians, keeping his presence as small as possible. The combination of his chi detection in combination with his more mundane allowed him to understand what was happening.

Monsters were emerging from the ground, at least a dozen of them. They were filthy, mostly almost silent except for one or two that softly hissed. Their hands had claws, and they all moved in jerky, unnatural ways, like a spider. Vampires, Jake thought, but these were of a more advanced variety than he’d just killed back in Macon.

One of them reached down and casually snagged a running rat. After a squeak and a crunch, the rodent was dead, and the vampire had a snack before tossing the furry body to the muddy ground.

Jake focused on staying completely still. His senses told him that every vampire emerging from the ground was at least as strong as he was. This was the most danger he’d been in since he’d been sent back to the past.

The vampires approached the distant giant. At least two of them had some sort of bags, or sacks. Despite their dirty appearance, they all seemed to be wearing tools. These were definitely not feral vamps.

No more were coming out of the ground, so as Jake watched, hyper-alert, he began slowly, stealthily edging backwards. As he moved, he also covered himself with mud, hopefully to confuse any senses the vampires might otherwise notice him with.

Part of him considered giving up on this challenge, conceding. But if he did that, he’d be walking away from potential rewards, and more importantly, a place to grow stronger without any passage of time on Earth.

This place could be useful. He couldn’t fuck this up.

As Jake kept retreating, trying to move deeper into the brush without making any noise, the vampires reached the giant. It didn’t seem aware of them at first. This made sense. They were relatively tiny, after all. Even when they climbed up the giant’s foot to its ankle, it still kept digging at the swamp. The enormous beast was on its knees, so after climbing up on its foot, the vampires were fairly high up. Jake stopped moving in case they turned to look back.

One of the vampires produced a knife and cut the back of the giant’s calf, right above its ankle. The move was done with practiced precision. Below the giant’s leg, on the ground, one of the vampires with a sack held it open and collected the blood that flowed, catching it before it ran to the ground. Another vampire with an open sack stood next to the first, waiting in line.

Meanwhile, the vampires on top of the leg made another cut and began to scoop handfuls of blood, greedily slurping it up. By the time the giant was alerted to their presence or maybe had felt the cuts, it began to turn. Meanwhile, the blood suckers were already retreating.

Jake worked to keep his heart still as ice. If he were discovered, he would die. Luckily, the vampires seemed too preoccupied by the turning giant to spot Jake, right up until the last one paused before darting down a hole. It was a male, and he turned, sniffing the air, his blood-red eyes glowing in the dimness. Since the monster was so close, Jake could actually see how the vampire’s skin was starting to burn, even in the pale twilight-esque light.

The vampire swiveled his ears while almost looking directly at Jake, but the giant had finally turned. One huge leg shot out, toward the last standing vampire. The monster hissed and fell down his hole, right before the tip of the giant’s toes dug a furrow in the muck. A swath of bushes was wiped out in an instant.

There was a riot of noise and an explosion of mud everywhere as the giant’s foot plowed through the scrubby wetlands.

Jake stayed still, playing dead, and kept his energy even, even as he watched the foot from only a few yards away.

The moment the giant began to turn away, Jake scrambled backwards, still trying to be stealthy, but also putting some speed into it. He had to get the hell out of Dodge. That last vampire seemed to have sensed something. Jake didn’t want to be anywhere nearby if the things came back out of their burrows to investigate.

He made it to the rocky ridge and ducked into a cave he’d seen before, one that had features he could exploit if he were chased.

For about one terse hour or so, Jake stayed completely still in the darkness, all of his senses dialed up to the maximum level he could justify, watching and waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

Finally, he relaxed.

No wonder the Faceted had seemed so pleased. ‘Giants,’ my ass, thought Jake.

He definitely thought he’d been right to not choose mermaids now. Maybe predation was the underlying theme of this challenge. If the mermaid trial was anything like this one, he probably would have been dropped into an ocean full of sea monsters that ate mermaids or something.

No wonder the Faceted had suggested rabbits. Maybe Jake would have been required to kill a thousand mutant rabbits before completing the challenge, all while being hunted by dragons that ate them.

Fucking Faceted, he thought.

Jake briefly thought about retrieving a flashlight from his storage ring, but decided he didn’t really need it. In the very darkest parts of the cave, he could actually make his eyes glow and use that small light to illuminate everything, at least to his eyes. He moved deeper into the cave, taking one branch to a dead end. Then he shimmied through a crack into a room that was barely big enough to sit cross-legged in.

As a human, such a place would be claustrophobic. Even most monsters might think twice about holing up at the end of a little crack like this, but Jake could phase. His shadow ghoul phasing ability remained one of his most powerful trump cards.

He settled down to meditate, and then to cultivate—in that order. Whatever was going to come, he needed to be in tip-top shape. Settling his nerves and thinking was important. Then he would work on bolstering his energy a little bit, and after he felt like he was ready, it’d be time to explore again.

One thing was sure: this trial was much more complex than he’d been hoping. But maybe if he played his cards right, he could turn things around for his benefit.

Chapter 25

Jake reflected on where his cultivation level actually was as he meditated. His teacher had refused to explain the entire potential of cultivation to him in the past, only telling him what he judged would be the extent of his abilities. Actually, beyond that.

Things had obviously changed since then.

Orthodox cultivation started at the Initiate level, when a wannabe immortal would start on the path of the Dao. This beginner stage would require opening up the body’s meridians, feeling natural energy, and learning to cycle it. Jake’s teacher had told him that in the cultivation world, most practitioners would start off in a sect, and this stage would include learning sect rules.

Creating a dantian would turn most Initiates into Trainees.

After an Initiate became a Trainee, they would begin working on Body Refinement. Body Refinement was divided into three stages, Copper, Silver, and Gold. Copper stage related to blood, Silver was flesh, and Gold was bones. Each stage had ten ranks.

In Jake’s first life, he’d reached the Copper Seven level of the Body Refinement Stage. He judged himself to currently be in the Silver One level.

Back when he’d been a zombie with a dantian, he’d been in the Copper One level. When he’d worked toward evolving, and eventually took the plunge, he’d skipped all the way to Silver. His advancement could still be compared to natural energy cultivation, but obviously did not work in quite the same way.

His body had improved differently. Instead of expelling all of his impurities, he’d actually become something else. That had to be the case. He’d basically skipped an entire stage of Body Refinement. And since he hadn’t felt any pain or any other signs of progression that humans normally felt, it was possible he just hadn’t even been aware of his body changing.

He did consider that part of the lack of pain might have been because he was a zombie before. That was not a cheery thought if he were ever thinking about evolving again. And it seemed in order for him to achieve higher levels now, he needed access to some dark power or source of corruption to refine and rebuild himself during the process.

Weird.

His teacher had told him about what comes after Body Refinement, after creating a complete Reforged body. The next level of cultivation was Foundation Pillars, with a total of three Pillars before the next stage.

Jake didn’t know what came after that, though. His teacher had told him that if he’d ever managed to create the first of his Foundation Pillars, he would have been a B rank adventurer on Earth, able to join teams with some of the elite... barely.

Of course, now that Jake was doing things differently this time around, he wasn’t sure what his limits were anymore.

The surrounding sinister energy wasn’t quite right for him to cultivate, but it was thick. He hadn’t experienced anything like this since being struck on Ahriman’s hell. He could directly begin refining the energy now, but it was still inefficient. Luckily, the air was so thick with power that it was at least worth the effort.

Jake began channeling the energy, refining it, squeezing the pure essence out of it, drop by drop, adding to his dantian. He used the first cycling technique his master had taught him, but it wasn’t very effective with such dense, soupy energy. The place he was in felt steeped with bestial energy.

Using the Heavenly Four Winds Purification technique worked better, but it wasn’t really a good match either. This technique was really better to refine the chi he already had, not gather, purify, and assimilate.

He briefly considered trying the Heavenly Dragon Defiance technique, but he instinctively knew that he was still not ready for it yet.

Cultivating the monstrous energy was faster than it had been before in hell, but was still slow going. Jake paused his efforts, coming out of his trance-like state, and thought about the vampire monster core he still had in his storage ring.

Thinking about it, he realized that monster cores functioned for him similarly to the “medicinal pills,” that his teacher had talked about in his first life. One of the major differences seemed to be in rarity. Medicinal pills were created by skilled alchemists in the cultivation world. Monster cores could be found anywhere monsters existed, or “demons beasts,” in the cultivation world.

His path of cultivation was much more complex than orthodox cultivators now, though. Instead of one linear direction, it felt like his options were more varied, especially considering how he could use the Heavenly Four Winds Purification technique to deepen his potential.

He thought about this further. Orthodox cultivation had one path. A Daoist’s advancement could go deeper or be shoddier, but that was a matter of effort, quality... and talent.

Jake’s advancement happened on three dimensions now. He might never know what the greatest heights possible were for himself, and even scratching the surface would be almost impossible. This world, or pocket dimension, had very thick monstrous energy, but actually using it, converting it in any meaningful amount would take forever. For Jake to move forward now in general was going to be very resource intensive. Monster cores were not as expensive as medicinal pills in the cultivation world that his teacher had mentioned, but he had already felt waning effectiveness from zombie cores earlier.

It was all various mysterious, and Jake knew he had a lot to learn... if he could survive.

But one thing was for sure—hoarding resources wouldn’t do him much good if he died.

With that in mind, he took his vampire monster core out of his storage ring and only hesitated a moment before swallowing the energy. Even though it hadn’t been a very high-level stone, he could immediately tell it was still going to require his full attention. He immediately emptied his mind, calmed his spirit, and began cultivating to control it.

The raging energy ran through his improved meridians, his blood actually strengthening his energy channels, helping to control the energy and guide it from chakra to chakra. This was the advantage of having a Silver rank body now.

He worked tirelessly, cycling his chi, slowly destroying, reforming, and purifying the energy running rampant through his body before injecting it directly into his muscles, his skin, and then finally filtering it down into his dantian. His body began to grow more refined. Power gathered in his cells like they’d found a new home.

Three days later, or at least three Earth days later, he finally reached the Silver Two level of the Body Refinement Stage. This time, he was paying close attention to any changes. If he’d been alive, cultivating natural energy, reaching the next stage of Body Refinement would have come with pain and a refreshing feeling, a reawakening. His body might have expelled some impurities, too, a lesser reaction that most orthodox cultivators went through between stages. But Jake didn’t experience any of that. Instead, he could just feel a bit more energy, and his body felt... tougher. Faster. Like everything operated more smoothly.

It was hard to describe.

Jake knew he’d feel different throughout the process if he were still human. Ultimately, he couldn’t change anything, so he decided to focus on the benefits. And one major benefit was how fast he could advance now.

If only he had about a million monster cores, everything would be gravy.

He stood up and stretched. It’d hopefully been long enough for the vampires to lose any wariness they might have had from the one almost noticing him. And cultivating any higher than he had just attained would take a very, very long time using only the energy of this world.

The break had been necessary. But now he’d spent enough time cultivating, meditating, and thinking. It was time to do some more recon.

* * *

Jake snuck around his new environment for the next two days. He discovered a number of things.

For one, the light level remained consistent, never changing. It was just barely enough to harm the vampires over time.

Additionally, each swamp area contained between rocky ridges really did all have one giant each.

As he roamed around, Jake found pieces of bones at the top of some ridges. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought they were old remains of vampires. It was interesting, and he figured, maybe some time in the past, the different groups of vampires in each swamp had fought amongst each other.

The vampires themselves all differed from swamp to swamp too. For instance, the ones Jake had seen up close were dirty and bestial, but another group of them seemed to keep relatively clean. Instead of a mere hole in the ground, that group had larger burrows made at an angle with steps carved out of the dirt. One of the burrows seemed to have been destroyed recently. They had probably been too slow retreating after bleeding their giant for food.

Jake assumed they were digging out another set of stairs to replace it.

He didn’t dare get too close to the vampires’ burrows again, but he did spend some time watching them, trying to learn their patterns.

All of the vampires seemed to have similar habits. They bled their giant every couple of days, and based on what Jake had seen, most of them had large underground tunnel complexes. Each group of vampires had several dozen members.

One swamp had a huge hole dug in the scrubland, probably the giant there trying to get to the vampires to kill them. It obviously hadn’t worked. The vampire holes went too deep, and the giant’s physiology just wasn’t built for digging.

Jake assumed the swamps had to be sitting on top of dense clay or something, otherwise, he had no idea how the vampires could have such deep and presumably complex tunnel systems. But he’d already figured that this world, or holding area was artificial, so anything was possible.

After a few more days of observation, Jake began to get a much better grasp of his environment and feel a little bit more relaxed. The vampires didn’t really check their surroundings much, so he only had to really hide when they were active to drain a giant, and that didn’t take very long. They only ever sent out about a dozen at a time for this task.

It seemed all the vampires had their own little stomping grounds, and at some point in the past, they might have fought over territory or maybe explored and been repelled.

There was only one mystery that Jake was still not sure about, and that was why they didn’t live in the caves in the rocky ridges. Choosing to live in the dirt when there were perfectly serviceable caves nearby didn’t make a lot of sense.

Jake was actually thinking about this one day as he walked around the ridge near one of the swamps, when his instincts screamed a warning at him. He didn’t stop to think. With the ease of years of practice, Jake flash-stepped forward and spun. He almost lost his balance as a tremendous crash shook the ground behind him.

A boulder had slammed into the rocky shelf where Jake had just been standing, and pieces of stone shot out from the impact. Sharp pieces of broken rock whirred through the air, accompanied by stinky mud.

It didn’t take Jake long to figure out what had happened. He turned and ran, heading for the ridge. As he sprinted, he glanced to the side where the giant was fishing around in the swamp for another huge projectile. Its beady little eyes were fixed on him. A vampire head briefly popped up from a distant burrow and the monster looked around in response to the commotion. She spotted Jake.

Shit, shit, shit! he thought. At least one tribe of vampires knew for sure that he existed now. Hopefully, they would just mistake him for a neighboring vampire. He could only hope. Having the element of surprise had been his greatest ally so far.

Jake wasn’t sure how long it would take the giant to find another projectile, but he didn’t stick around to find out.

The power and accuracy of the beast’s throw had been extremely surprising. He supposed now he knew why the vampires lived in the dirt.

But he discovered another reason the vampires stayed in the dirt about half a day later when he heard a scratching noise outside his cave. Jake had been meditating after cultivating the surrounding energy as best he could, a necessary use of time since he didn’t have anything to eat shadow ghoul-style.

He always stayed alert to the world around him, so the noise drew him out of his meditative state. After he spun his cultivation base, he opened his senses, using his life-detection ability. The surroundings suppressed his life-sense as usual. Despite that, he caught the edges of something powerful hanging outside his cave. He couldn’t see it completely clearly in his mind’s eye, but he caught the impression of wings, and a large, lithe body.

It wasn’t a vampire, and it was about to come rushing in.

Jake phased and flash-stepped, the combination allowing him to make maximum use of his phased time. He was able to barely make it to the bolt hole he’d discovered.

The little hideout wasn’t much more than a closet-sized hollow in the rock. He’d discovered it after training his phase and flash-step abilities together, looking for something exactly like this, a hiding place. Of course, running out of phase time while being surrounded by solid rock was something that would most likely destroy him, but Jake had never pushed it too far. He only ever went into the rock and out again, with plenty of time to spare. And he’d gotten lucky.

It was uncomfortably hot. If he’d been a human, he would have suffocated in moments. Jake still wasn’t entirely sure exactly how his physiology worked. Sometimes if he wasn’t doing anything and not really thinking too hard, he noticed that he just stopped breathing. But when he exerted himself, he’d definitely breathe.

Just to be safe, the moment he arrived in his hiding spot, he began meditating, then cultivating. Everything slowed down inside his body, and he entered a state close to suspended animation. While he slowly, painstakingly converted and refined the surrounding energy for his own use, he was able to ignore his surroundings.

He could still perfectly keep track of passing time, though. When half a day had passed, he phased and flash-stepped back out to the rocky ridge, but not directly into his old cave. Instead, he popped out about two hundred yards away and crept forward, senses wide open. Now that he knew the giants were dangerous, he kept a wary eye on this one too, but it stayed safely digging around in the swamp. Jake’s attention snapped forward again. If whatever it was that had been about to invade his temporary home was still there, he wanted to “see” it before it saw him.

But nothing was there.

He slowly inspected his normal den and discovered claw marks on the floor, but nothing too impressive. It was only when he saw the little crack in the wall that he normally crawled through to get to his normal meditation space that he paused.

Something had definitely been there and investigated. There were very clear claw marks on the wall here. A strange miasma, or vestiges of a powerful aura lingered.

It was unsettling to know that there was something else to worry about now, some sort of flying, stealthy predator. Whatever it was likely came from the edge of the swamp areas. Jake had explored as far as he could, a total of nine swamps, and at the edges was just a big, crimson barrier.

It must have come from beyond the barrier.

Knowing that something else was out there in the perpetual twilight, something that Jake felt instinctive fear of was... not good. On the other hand, it helped further explain why all the vampire groups stayed in their own swamps and avoided the caves. Being close to the giants probably actually gave them some degree of protection from whatever the hell had just come calling.

It’d taken a while, but Jake felt like he finally had a decent handle on his surroundings now. He hadn’t forgotten the trial. Killing a giant would neither be simple nor easy, and there were definitely other dangers. Making it back to the extraction rock after killing a giant without getting torn to shreds was obviously part of the challenge.

Taking the time to scope everything out had been the right decision. Cultivating and absorbing his last monster core had been a good call.

The situation was grim, and definitely wouldn’t be easy to overcome, but Jake had a plan.

Chapter 26

As usual, there wasn’t much air movement, but today, there was a hint of a breeze. Maybe it was a good sign. Jake had decided to name this trial world “Swampland.” It seemed to fit, even if it wasn’t very creative.

He was currently standing on a ridge of the rocky hills that divided the swamps. This location was near the vampire burrows he’d almost face-planted into what felt like forever ago. His vantage was high, with a clear view of the entire area. The giant was currently occupied, but Jake crouched behind a boulder anyway, just in case. If he was spotted, it’d be a shame to spoil the surprise.

Hopefully, what he was about to do would not draw other vampire groups, at least not right away. Since they were cautious, and basically just surviving, he didn’t see them breaking that habit right away.

Hmm. Need to get everything ready, he thought. He was about to make one hell of a racket. If everything went badly, he didn’t want to be fumbling around or wasting concentration on his storage ring. Carefully, he went through a mental list of everything he’d prepared, just double checking. After he was satisfied, he rose from behind his boulder. ‘Time to get this show on the road,’ he whispered.

The energy barriers around the nine swamplands had been great for Jake’s growth. He’d gotten the idea to practice Demonic Contradiction Wave attacks at it one day, and the wall had completely absorbed the energy. The barrier was obviously keyed to stop everything except the mysterious monster that passed through and hunted among the rocky ridges.

Jake hadn’t been able to see the effects of his attacks, but he’d been able to practice structuring them, and even do some experimentation. Practicing his skills completely silently had been great training.

Now he held up one hand, with his other chambered by his hip. Using his body to help guide the flow of energy was helpful and actually allowed him to create the Demonic Contradiction Wave without tiring himself out as much. His master had always said that a real cultivator didn’t need to make flashy movements to deliver Daoist techniques, just a flick of the wrist or a finger sign. But Jake’s teacher wasn’t here to yell at him at the moment for being lazy.

With a strange grin tugging at the side of his mouth, Jake used opposing energies from Swampland, and electrical energy from Earth, extracted from a couple of batteries. He unleashed the Demonic Contradiction Wave, hurling it toward the vampire burrows.

It struck like thunder.

The attack wasn’t very fast, and was kind of difficult for Jake to create, but it sure did hit with authority.

Clay and bunches of shrubs went flying away from the impact area. The detonation made small rocks on the stony ridge jump. Sounds of the blast echoed around the swamp, bouncing off the stony walls.

The clay of the scrub area seemed to be really tough, though. Despite all the noise, Jake was a little disappointed by the actual size of the crater. It wasn’t much bigger than a small, aboveground swimming pool.

But several things all happened at once after the explosion.

The giant began to turn and stand at max speed. A few vampires popped their heads out to look around. One was hissing. Jake thought they looked like some sort of evil prairie dogs and the thought made him chuckle. Unfortunately, they ducked down again before his second Demonic Contradiction Wave could hit them.

Jake had thought about this part of the plan. He needed the vampires to come to him, but they had no reason to while they were safe in their tunnels. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go underground either. Sure, he was a monster, but some of the vampires were actually stronger than he was, and there were more of them. Getting their attention was the first step of the plan.

And to start the next step, he would need to avoid being crushed in the meantime.

He’d actually wondered whether the giant would throw something at him, or at the vampires. His question was answered when he had to flash-step to dodge a massive, swamp-covered chunk of rock. The missile crashed into the boulder he’d been hiding behind. If he’d still been there… Well, it would have been bad.

A second later, he had to dodge again as a streak of red resolved into magic fire one of the vampires had thrown. Luckily, they were far enough away that he didn’t have too hard of a time dodging, but this was something he hadn’t planned for. Some of the vampires having magic actually made sense. Even if they weren’t high-level vampires, they were still powerful monsters, probably mid-tier.

Flames ballooned on the rocks behind Jake. He growled. ‘Wanna fuck around? Alright.’

He leveled a hand and concentrated while he dodged two more attacks. This attack would be stronger. He layered three separate compartments of volatile energy with a Demonic Cultivation Wave, using Swampland essence, a battery, and a bottle of glass cleaner from his storage ring.

The result was a double explosion, and each was more powerful than the first. All the vampires had ducked down again, but Jake’s goal hadn’t been to actually hit them. This had been an experiment. He’d needed to see what a triple layer Demonic Cultivation Wave actually did. Good, that’ll work, he thought.

His newest Demonic Contradiction Wave was a lot more powerful, but the vampires were too well-protected. Throwing attacks like this until he was exhausted would be futile, and might actually attract vampires from a different swamp, or the mysterious predator from outside the red barrier. He had to piss the vampires off enough to actually come after him.

Jake dodged another boulder thrown by the giant. Then he grinned nastily and delivered a triple Demonic Contradiction Wave directly into the huge monster’s face.

Sure, the vampires wouldn’t come out if he attacked them, but what if he went after their protection and food source?

The stones seemed to vibrate as the beast bellowed. It clapped one massive hand over its face and began frantically searching the swamp for another stone. Jake’s attention wasn’t on the giant, though. He was focused on the vampires.

More heads popped up now, looking between the wounded giant and Jake. He grinned nastily at them and willed his eyes to glow blue.

Jake delivered another triple Demonic Contradiction Wave at the giant, striking its face again. If he really wanted to kill it, he could have struck the neck or other vital areas, but the vampires couldn’t know he was intentionally missing. In reality, these attacks were not meant to be lethal, only painful, debilitating, and loud.

It was better for his plan if the giant was wounded, not dead.

The whole point of this challenge seemed to revolve around the fact that managing to kill a giant, or even attack one, would incur the wrath of the vampires. All of the giants were overwhelmingly powerful up close, but at range, they could be brought down. Most adventuring parties had ranged attackers. Jake remembered that the limit for participants to this challenge room had been fairly high.

A big corpse wouldn’t do the vampires any good. But in this case, Jake wanted them to come. He wanted them to be angry.

And angry they were.

Like dark hornets boiling out of a nest, the vampires surged out of the ground and bounded toward the end of the scrubland. They could not head directly at Jake, there was swamp between them, but they were fast. Holy shit! Jake thought. He dodged another magic attack and took off at a sprint away from the vampires.

Setting his trap without being noticed hadn’t been easy. It had been tricky to find the right spot in the first place. Since he knew the vampires would not want to go to another group’s swamp, he’d needed to set up in the ridge around the swamp he’d be targeting. He’d also needed to place his trap far enough away that his retreat would look real, but also close enough that he could get to it once the vampire came after him. He’d needed to live in it, so it was full of his scent. On top of that, he had very specific requirements for the cave’s actual structure.

Luckily, he could cheat.

Now Jake could make his own tunnels using a combination of Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing with a sword to cut large chunks of rock, and his storage ring to get them out of the way.

The vampires were hot on his heels when he ducked into his home and project for the last few weeks. He’d been able to make a winding tunnel that doubled back multiple times. It was difficult to run full-tilt in, and went straight into the ridgeline at a downward angle.

There were also fist-sized holes cut between the tunnels, connecting them. The spaces were too small for a body to fit through, but they let air pass through. They also allowed Jake to better know how far away the vampires were.

He was barely staying ahead of them.

If Jake had still been a human, creating a tunnel like this might have been impossible. But not only was he a tireless ghoul now, he was also a Silver rank Body Refiner.

More importantly, his storage ring had allowed him to store countless tons of rock. When he’d picked it out, the description had said it was an “endless” storage ring, and that it held much more than a regular storage ring. He knew it had been a priceless artifact, but it seemed to be even better than he’d imagined. Most storage rings only kept about a closet-size amount of items. He had no idea what the storage limit of his ring was. While he’d been working, he’d been prepared to use the ring as a magic wheelbarrow and dump rock from time to time, but he hadn’t needed to yet.

Once he reached the end of the tunnel, Jake phased through a wall of solid rock to the room he’d built on the other side of it. The divider wall was perforated with a hundred fist-sized holes, plenty large enough for the vampires to see and smell him through. He’d kept supernatural strength in mind, though. The wall was solid.

As the vampires rushed into the room, Jake took a couple of shots at them with his revolver. He wasn’t actually expecting the attacks to do much, but he needed to keep them riled up, and he didn’t want to use a Demonic Contradiction Wave in close quarters.

His shots were deafening, shocking the vampires and creating more confusion.

This part of the plan required the vampires not to be able to move through solid rock like he could, or turn incorporeal. Jake had reasoned that they couldn’t since they dug tunnels in the marshlands, and his assumption was confirmed when more than two dozen angry vampires slammed into the rock wall. The thick wall held. Arms snaked through the holes, claws extended, futilely trying to reach him. A few vampires had already begun examining the room, snarling, trying to find the nonexistent way to get past the barrier.

Jake barely dodged another magical attack, this one made of some sort of sickly green. He’d built another room on the other side of yet another wall, but this one had an opening to one side that the vampires could see him running through. He grinned. This must be driving them nuts.

In this hidden room that the vampires were never meant to see, the thin holes Jake had cut out to the surface could easily be seen. This was actually one of the first parts of the trap that Jake had completed, a safe place for him to meditate in while he’d worked on the rest of the project.

He’d meditated in this place without worry, and over the last month, had hopefully trained the predator from outside the barrier that chasing after his scent meant only resulted in a waste of time.

Hissing, screaming, and guttural shouting from the next room was deafening. The vampires were going apeshit trying to get to him, but they wouldn’t be forever. Now it was time for Jake to spring his trap. He phased and flash-stepped, moving through the solid rock in a way that was familiar now. When he popped back into reality outside, two vampires were crouched on the ridge, their attention on the cave mouth. Jake didn’t hesitate. He drew his saber and cut one’s head off. She didn’t even make a sound before her head was rolling.

Jake’s speed, the surprise of his attack, and Mercurial Lunar Dao Polishing applied to his saber had been enough for a one-shot kill. His blade could shear through rock now. An unprepared, stationary vampire at the same general level as him hadn’t had much chance. Good information.

The other vampire was a little more wary, and Jake’s plan was suddenly facing a serious hiccup. He really couldn’t afford a long fight. If he got held up for too long, it might be bad. The vampire—a large, dirty male—lunged with claws extended. Jake dodged and slashed in one motion, but the vampire vanished with a puff of smoke before the sword connected. With a start, Jake realized that the creature had turned into a large wolf and ran into the cave.

He blinked, wondering if he could believe his good luck.

Tricky, he thought, and smiled. The monster was retreating, meeting up with the other vampires, probably to tell them that Jake was outside. But now it was already too late.

Jake leveled a hand and directed a three-layer Demonic Contradiction wave to the ceiling of the tunnel. He’d designed the cave mouth so it was only held up by one support. He’d also stacked extra rocks on top of the opening, making it heavier and providing more mass. His attack was just enough to take it out, and the entrance came down.

The cave-in was even louder than his Demonic Contradiction Waves were. Dust billowed out, and the ground shook. Everything stopped moving in about half a minute, and the cave was completely blocked.

For good measure, Jake dumped a few more tons of rock from his storage ring onto the rubble. The vamps weren’t gonna get out of that.

‘Gotcha, bitches!’ he snarled.

He warily kept track of the giant, but the beast was still bellowing and holding its face. Jake moved to the top of the tunnel trap he’d created, quickly finding the section right before the room most of the vampires were still in. They probably realized what had happened, but the cave-in had been violent.

At this area, the ceiling of the tunnel was at least two feet thick, but Jake had punched vent holes connecting the tunnel to the outside all over the place. Now that the dust was settling and the air in the tunnel was still again, it was time for the next phase of his plan.

Jake lit a piece of oiled cloth on fire. With a stony expression, Jake dropped the burning rag through the hole in the ceiling. He’d doused the entire floor of the tunnel with gasoline, but especially the area he’d predicted most of the vampires would be in. With a whumph, the tunnel ignited.

Ultimately, the fire plan from back in Georgia had worked so well that Jake had decided to use it again.

He clearly heard the screams of the vampires as they burned. For good measure, Jake dumped a few more gallons of gas through the holes too. One thing the legends about vampires had gotten right was that they were weak to fire. He had to step back because the heat coming through the air holes was getting too hot. He’d intentionally built his safe room at the very end of the trap to never catch on fire so it could provide good ventilation for the flames.

Jake could feel himself relaxing. It was possible that these vampires had left one or two of their brethren behind in the swamp, but he doubted it. Besides, now he knew that he could deal with it. The memory of how easily he’d killed the vampire with his saber was a bit surprising. Sure, in a fair fight, things might get spicier, but the exchange had been educational.

He’d definitely gotten more powerful. And if he was able to score some more monster cores after the roasting vampires were all dead, he’d get even stronger.

His plan now was to finish off the screaming giant. It wasn’t much of a threat right now as long as he kept his distance, but the giant was still massive. He didn’t know how long actually killing it might take. It would be a learning experience for sure. Learning all that he could was part of his goal. He was not planning to stop with only one giant, after all.

Jake thought about the next steps of his plan as he moved to a good vantage point overlooking the wounded giant. Its neck was in view. Perfect. Even if it took a while, he’d be able to kill it for sure now that it was blind and defenseless.

Even as he had that thought, the giant randomly tossed a huge boulder. It smashed into the ridge on the opposite side of the swamp from Jake.

He grinned, his heart like ice. Jake had learned a lot after Purple Rain. Like how to be ruthless when he had to be.

After the giant was dead, he was going to take a break to cultivate before checking on the cave trap. He really needed to conserve gasoline, but if too many vampires still lived, he’d burn them again. Luckily, he doubted he’d have to. What was more likely is that a few would be terribly wounded, barely hanging on, and Jake would be able to finish the job with his saber.

His trap to snare the vampires had worked perfectly. If he got a decent amount of monster cores, maybe he could even raise himself to Silver Five level of the Body Refinement Stage. It was just a guess, but he was excited to find out.

It had taken him a month of hard work to prepare this trap. All of his effort had been worth it.

He hadn’t forgotten his mission back in Georgia.

The main reason he’d entered the challenge portal was to get stronger. Returning back to Earth with increased strength was why he was here. Whether the strength he found was increasing his cultivation level or snagging more amazing completion rewards, it could accomplish the same goal.

His focus now was on personal growth, not rewards, but he had to admit he was curious what rank he was going to score on this challenge now.

He also briefly wondered how the asshole Faceted might be feeling after this first giant died in a few minutes. The thought made him smile. His eyes glowed blue.

Chapter 27

Has it really been over ten months? Jake wondered. Swampland never changed and there was no day or night, but his internal clock didn’t lie. He briefly wondered how that actually worked for him, though. Orthodox cultivators had unbreakable ties to natural energy, and could feel time pass in its ebb and flow. For Jake... he just knew.

Oh well, he thought. It wasn’t the first mystery he’d run into as a monster cultivator.

Jake was currently sitting lotus-style in his custom underground fortress. After he’d killed his first giant, he’d upgraded from his first, closet-sized underground hiding place and built a permanent hideout. Discovering that he could dig his own structures out of solid rock had been a game changer. And luckily, he’d had the foresight to build his home as far away from all the actual swamps as possible.

Every giant he’d killed had begun to stink horribly after a week or two, and some of them still reeked.

All nine giants were dead now, as well as the vampires that had fed off of them. He’d built a different trap for each group of vampires. Jake had needed to adjust his plan a few times, though. His fourth vampire clan had been smarter than the others and had almost turned the trap around on him. They’d hesitated at the entrance of the cave. He’d needed to stay at the end of the tunnel, kill the only vampire that had actually followed him. Then he’d attacked the majority that waited near the entrance from inside the tunnel first, baiting them further before running away. He’d taken a bolt of magic ice to the shoulder before escaping and trapping his enemies, but the mission had eventually still been a success.

The last vampire clan he’d exterminated hadn’t been with gasoline; he’d run out. That trap had taken the longest to construct because he’d needed to rig the entire thing with a crushing ceiling that he could trip to fall. Honestly, the new approach had worked even better than fire. He just wished it hadn’t taken almost two months to craft—an extra month longer than his other trap caves.

Now he had a pile of monster cores on the ground in front of him. In hindsight, he sort of wished he hadn’t cultivated up to the Silver Five level of the Body Refinement Stage after he’d successfully wiped out the first group of vampires.

His first operation had yielded a total of six cores for killing around thirty vampires. He used those resources to cultivate up to the Silver Five level of the Body Refinement Stage. But when he’d finished off the next group, he’d only gotten four cores despite actually killing more vampires that time. Jake had figured it could be random, but he’d also had a suspicion that he’d gotten fewer cores because he’d been more powerful.

As a human adventurer, it might not have mattered, but as a monster, he not only created his own energy, he needed it to survive. Who knew what kind of effect this could have had on the number of monster cores generated?

And whether coincidence or something to do with his higher cultivation level, he’d gotten an average of just over four cores for each group from then on. Right now, he had 37 vampire cores. He tried not to think about how much more he could possibly have found if he hadn’t cultivated, but if he’d been weaker, maybe he would have died as well. Might-have-beens were not usually useful to dwell on, and 37 monster cores was still a fuck ton.

Besides, he’d gotten lucky in other ways.

To one side of the vampire cores, Jake had placed his giant cores in a row. He had four. The rate at which giants had produced cores after the first one Jake killed had been 50%.

He shook his head while looking at the haul. This amount of monster cores was difficult to gather all in one place, even back in Jake’s past life when they were just used as power sources, or to make enchanted gear, or do magic experiments. The rate that slain monsters produced cores didn’t seem to have any pattern on Earth. This place did seem to have a higher-than-normal drop rate, however.

The giant cores had been the most surprising. To have four of them was unreal. For the last two months, Jake had been thinking about how to use them before he’d even gotten the last one.

“Holy shit,” he whispered out loud. The truth was he still wasn’t sure exactly what to do about the monster cores, or even about the challenge room itself. His original intention was to do as well as he could in the first trial, and just forfeit the second trial immediately so he wouldn’t be caught by surprise and his body destroyed. He could clearly remember the Faceted saying he’d face a boss, which sounded ominous. And Jake knew from his past that challenge room bosses were definitely bad news.

But now... could he dare? Should he try to actually conquer this challenge the way he had in the first one?

Jake began to meditate in order to think. He loved his fortress. Having a safe place to stay allowed him the freedom to keep the same position and location while transitioning between meditation or cultivation. It made things easier. Maybe one day, he could have something like the immortal caves his teacher had talked about, special places in the cultivation world that people used as houses.

An immortal cave would be awesome. Things now weren’t all bad, though. Strangely enough, being stuck in a swampy, evil pocket dimension was actually working out pretty well.

He used the information that The Morrigan had put in his head, his past knowledge as a mage, and memories of his evolution to figure out the best course of action. One thing he was absolutely sure of was that he didn’t want to use the giant cores for forward cultivation. Monster cores he used for moving forward on the path of a Daoist had an effect on future evolutions. He knew that for sure.

The giant cores wouldn’t be of much use for evolutions either. Part of the problem was that the giants he’d gotten the cores from had been related to orks. Jake didn’t want any future evolution choices associated with orks or pigs in any way.

But he didn’t want to evolve any time soon, anyway. He’d learned that evolution was a faster way to advance in cultivation, but not necessarily as powerful. This had been a revelation after carefully remembering his time in his first life at the mid-Copper Body Refinement realm, and by examining his advancements in Silver.

In fact, now he was fairly sure that the reason for his relative strength back at the first rank of Silver was actually due to the “deeper” cultivation he’d done as a zombie. As best he could tell, cultivating “deeper” mostly benefited him with his next advancement, and he only kept a tiny amount after achieving the next level of cultivation. So “deepening” was not only a way to make a future stage stronger, it might also be a good way to use cores he didn’t actually want becoming part of his elixir field.

With this in mind, Jake slowly moved, staying in his trance-like state, and gestured. The four giant monster cores floated into his lap. They were too big to fit into his mouth, but Jake had learned it was not actually necessary to eat them. With a delicate touch, he extended his senses and willed the energy from the first core into his body through his orifices.

His meridians lit on fire.

Jake rode the wave of violent energy like he was being buffeted by a storm. On instinct, he began using the Four Winds of Heaven Spirit Purification technique. Some of the turbulence subsided, and he began the long, arduous task of integrating the energy. Of course, since he was focusing his cultivation direction “downward” this time, he wasn’t actually adding any of the converted energy to his dantian. Instead, Jake directed the power directly into his flesh.

He was tempted to pump some energy into his blood, but that stage of his Body Refinement was already over. If he had residual, unincorporated power floating around after he had finished the three phases of Body Refinement, it might cause chi deviation... and that would be bad.

Jake did what he’d planned, using the giant monster cores one by one to strengthen his flesh, making his body stronger. Better. Or rather, he was increasing its potential to be stronger. If he were an orthodox cultivator, this deepening of flesh would not have been possible.

When he was finally done, Jake checked the time. Over a week had passed. All of the giant cores were gone now, and Jake was still at mid Silver-level Body Refinement. He smoothly transitioned into meditation without actually moving his body, and when his energy had leveled out and settled, he began to think again.

Okay, that worked perfectly, he thought. He still wasn’t sure exactly what his efforts had accomplished, but his dantian was clear of the giant energy, and his body felt light, like a dry sponge.

Will 37 vampire cores be enough? he wondered. When he’d cultivated up to fifth rank Silver, the cores had had less effect as he’d gotten stronger, and he could feel that the effect might be parabolic. Well, one way to find out.

He really had been lucky to get such a large number of mid-range quality vampire cores.

With an effort of will and a gesture, Jake moved the vampire cores from the ground to a semi-circle arrayed around him. He frowned, and after a moment’s thought, he also bit his thumb, making dark blood well up. Then he flicked his hand, getting droplets on each monster core. That done, as an experiment, he pulled some salt from his storage ring and created a salt circle around himself, just like he’d learned to do as a mage. His teacher had never mentioned doing anything like this, but Jake was already experimenting, so why not?

When the circle of salt was complete, Jake put a drop of blood on it and injected some of his chi. Not only was he trying to invoke arcane cleansing to the inside of the circle, Jake also ran his chi around the inside of the circle as a ward of sorts. He’d never tried anything like this before, and felt an enormous amount of curiosity, so much so it was hard for a while to get back into the right frame of mind for cultivation.

Finally, Jake nodded to himself and cracked a vampire monster core. The energy flowed into him, and he began to ride the static wave again. This time, he slowly, painstakingly broke down every grain of energy, refined it, and let it trickle into his dantian before joining the rotating current of his cultivation base.

The process was fairly waste-free, but not very fast. Jake was vaguely aware of the time passing but didn’t actually give it any attention. All of his focus was being spent on taming the monster energy rampaging through his body. In fact, he began cracking monster cores earlier and earlier, actually overlapping energies for longer, generating more power and momentum.

Finally, he felt something amazing happen: he reached the Silver Ten level of the Body Refinement Stage.

His flesh had been strengthened, changed. An itchy, crawling pain enveloped him. The surrounding darkness of Swampland rushed into Jake’s body, like it was filling a vacuum, and he suddenly had a new sense. An energy field had surrounded his body and he could control it like another limb.

Jake’s heart leapt and it took an effort to keep his mind and dantian calm. He slowly separated himself from any thoughts deeper than managing the massive amounts of energy he was moving around. If he faltered, they might tear him apart.

This was definitely another way his new style of cultivation differed from before. He felt like he was riding a bucking bull that tolerated him, but might try to kill him at any moment.

The sensation of reaching the Silver Ten level of the Body Refinement Stage was something like reaching the apex of a jump. Jake felt like he would start “falling down,” and after hitting the ground again, he’d be at the Gold One level of the Body Refinement Stage, his flesh transformed, and could begin strengthening his bones. If he were still human, he’d suffer great pain and expel impurities from his body, but as a shadow ghoul, he’d probably just tingle and ache for a while.

Gold was so close... but something stopped him. With an effort of will, he kept himself from falling, and instead, floated in his mind space.

He began cultivating another vampire monster core. There were only five left.

Somehow, he kept pushing forward, or “climbing.” His cultivation level was rising past the tenth level... which should have been impossible.

As Jake kept struggling, exerting his will on the energy raging through him, he attained enlightenment. The changes he’d made with the giant monster cores had been both a blessing and a curse. Now he could cultivate past ten ranks in Silver, but it was also exponentially more difficult to do so. What’s more, Jake didn’t know what his upper limit was, and he’d likely have to reach it unless he wanted to risk chi deviation.

Finally, after several more days passed and Jake spent an enormous amount of effort, he reached the eleventh rank of Silver Body Refinement! Distantly, just outside his perception, he felt a flash, like brilliant energy was raining down. He ignored it.

It took him a while to come back to himself. Completely returning to consciousness actually took some effort, which was a little worrying.

He shakily stood and checked his internal clock, noting that he’d been cultivating for two weeks. A solitary vampire monster core still sat on Jake’s lap. He couldn’t be sure if the salt circle had helped, but if it had, he was glad he’d tried it.

Jake put away his last monster core and began to think again.

As far as he knew, what he’d just done should not have been possible. This actually made him feel more confident about the next stage of his plan. A small part of him still wasn’t sure if it might have been better to just become Gold-level instead of somehow continuing his path in Silver. Maybe he shouldn’t have used the giant cores to cultivate “deeper.”

He really had been thinking about the next trial a lot over the last few months. After his first giant kill, he could have left at any time. He’d stayed to get stronger, and one potential path he’d come up with seemed more feasible now.

This plan had been born when Jake had been thinking about the nature of his current trial. He really wasn’t meant to be here as a solo challenger. What would have happened if an adventuring party had come to this place instead of Jake?

Even if they were powerful, it likely wouldn’t have gone well. The group would have most likely gone after a giant right away. They would have killed one, or maybe wounded it, been swarmed by vampires, and lost members while leaving or while forfeiting. Most adventurers damn sure would not be able to exist almost a year in this place like Jake had. It was way too dark for a normal person to see very well, there was no food, precious little water except for whatever nasty stuff was in the swamps, and there was a predator from outside the barrier that even the vampires had feared.

Jake had succeeded with careful planning and due to the fact that he could somehow survive in this place. Swampland wasn’t a perfect fit for his current body, but had barely been enough to sustain him and nourish his new levels of cultivation.

This place was a deathtrap for normal adventures, but Jake knew that every trial from a challenge room always had a way to solve it, or was otherwise possible to be conquered by the adventurers who challenged them... if they were smart or strong enough. Sometimes groups or individuals were too weak, or the trial was a bad match, but based on what Jake knew, no trial was ever impossible to overcome completely, every aspect of it.

All of this had drawn Jake to one conclusion: the mysterious predator from outside the barrier was the last aspect of this pocket dimension he could challenge. And if he could beat it, maybe he would actually be qualified to face whatever the next stage might bring. If not, he would be more likely to just forfeit immediately.

He stretched before taking his favorite, custom saber out of his storage ring, fixing the weapon to his belt, and sitting down again. Jake spread his senses.

With his increase in power, his senses had improved both qualitatively and quantitatively. His old cultivation master had told him he’d get an exponential power boost to his senses in the Foundation Pillars Stage, after Body Refinement. Now that he’d gotten so strong, he could hardly believe it.

Right now, Jake could at last distantly sense all of Swampland.

He settled down to wait, lightly cultivating to keep his energy levels topped off. Two days later, his senses notified him that the predator had just entered Swampland from outside the barrier.

Jake got up and briefly spun his cultivation base and nodded in satisfaction.

It was time to test out just how far he’d grown.

Chapter 28

Swampland was as dark and unfriendly as always, but Jake was actually even more comfortable now. His new enhanced senses made him feel like a demigod. The perpetual twilight hid no secrets from him. His body felt light, his strides strong and sure.

The mysterious predator was on the ridge near where Jake had first arrived in Swampland. He doubted that its position was a coincidence. His first semi-permanent hiding place had been near there too.

Jake slowed as he grew closer. He was prepared for anything. But when he topped a peak of the ridge and laid eyes on his target for the first time, he still paused.

“Oh, hello there, Poppet. Are you lost?” The creature smirked at Jake, a rumbling chuckle deep within her chest.

“Not exactly.”

While his English still wasn’t perfect, his speech had improved tremendously. Even though his mouth was not really made for human languages, cultivating as far as he had made it easily doable. He also noticed that the creature he faced had just been growling, her words appearing in his mind.

“I actually came to find you,” he said.

“Oh, that makes me happy, but it means you are foolish indeed, Poppet!” The beast smirked again.

Jake began slowly descending the hill he was standing on. He was wary, never dropping his eyes.

The creature was some sort of sphinx, that was obvious. But it was unlike any sphinx Jake had ever heard of before. Sphinxes were generally described with the head of a woman, the body of a lion, and the wings of a falcon.

This one had the various parts generally the same, but with differences all around. She had an older woman’s face, with big, glowing, red eyes. A flawless pair of human breasts didn’t match with her lined, elderly face. Her nose was cat-like, with long whiskers. Big fangs were visible as she spoke. Her front arms ended in large, human-looking hands, without claws. Large, dirty-looking black wings sprouted from her back. Instead of a tuft on her tail, she had a stinger like a scorpion, and her skin was all hairless. Spikes or spine rose from her back.

“What in the hell are you?” Jake asked.

She chuckled. “I might ask you the same question, Poppet.” A grin tugged up one side of her face, and her hungry eyes flashed. “I am a demonic sphinx, mid-grade. Are you impressed?” She preened and fingered the feathers of one wing. The strange, coquettish mannerisms coupled with her monstrous appearance and the bloodlust she was exuding were all very disturbing.

Jake thought quickly. He was stronger now, but definitely not as strong as this thing. The vampires had feared it, and he could feel a powerful energy.

He could reason a few things about her. Her relatively lean frame and more human-looking hands likely meant she was a magic user. The stains on her fingertips kind of made it look that way too. They were a sign of black magic. Her claws on her feline rear paws were still very functional, though.

The tail was deadly-looking, and Jake remembered the claw marks he’d seen in the tunnel he’d been staying in before. She must have been probing his old hiding place with her backside.

Without moving a muscle, Jake began preparing a basic Demonic Contradiction Wave. He didn’t want to give away what he was doing, so he used the essence of a penny that he had in his pocket to craft one half of it.

This way, he was able to keep it small, and didn’t need to draw from Swampland energy too much.

Back on Earth, he hadn’t actually used the Demonic Contradiction Wave much, but it hadn’t been too difficult to form once he’d gotten the hang of it. He could use natural energy from Earth, form it into a container with a bit of compression, and layer it on top of a similar containment system for Jake’s energy. The two conflicted with each other, maybe like antimatter. So, with the containment systems ready to break and mix the two elements, it would create a nice little explosion.

But in Swampland, Jake didn’t have ubiquitous, natural, living energy. Instead, he’d learned to improvise.

His old master had told stories about alchemy, and Jake had never really understood them much, but he knew that there was a way to extract the essence from things. It’d taken him a while to figure out how to do something like it, but now he knew how to break down material items in his hand, destroy them and create energy.

Jake knew he wasn’t “refining” anything, which was what his teacher called it when cultivator alchemists broke down plants. Instead, he was just destroying it using raw spiritual force. It could take a while, though, and he could only seem to manage it with small, hand-sized items that he could palm.

This type of cultivation also only seemed to work for things that actually belonged to him, and didn’t always have an effect. He’d gone through his entire storage ring to figure out what could be broken down and what couldn’t.

The amount of matter had an effect too, as did the nature of the item. New pennies might have less oomph, but the penny Jake was disintegrating was from the 80s. It had been carried for a while, had been around the world on Earth, and had a decent amount of power.

Elemental identities seemed to matter as well. Jake was fairly certain that the penny was “metal” element. This meant that one half of his Demonic Contradiction Wave would carry that same element.

Jake wished he’d paid better attention when his master had tried teaching him about elemental affinities. He still couldn’t always predict whether a reaction was going to be weaker or stronger than normal.

Luckily, he had experienced enlightenment after experimenting with extracting energy for a while. Layering two opposing elements was not the only way to make his Demonic Contradiction Waves stronger. The type of energies he used mattered, as did the level of compression he could put on them. Maybe one day in the future, he could use very small amounts of energy under great compression and get massive results. And if he could figure out which elements were the most reactive, and how to draw them, he could really start slinging some power.

He continued slowly, stealthily breaking down energy and harnessing it, building his technique.

“A demonic sphinx? Should I be impressed?” asked Jake.

“Of course! I am called—”

As soon as the creature began speaking again, Jake unleashed the Demonic Contradiction Wave in her face. This was not an honorable duel, and he was not going to pretend it was.

He was here to kill this thing.

Powerful demons always liked to talk too much. Probably because they liked to play with their food.

The sphinx screamed in surprise and pain. Jake didn’t hesitate, he drew his saber and rushed into the fray. His only goal was the wing. He needed to keep this fucking thing on the ground. If she was a magic user and could fly, this fight was going to go nowhere, fast.

At the last minute, the sphinx noticed how close he was and began to turn, her tail spike darting forward, but it was too late. The Demonic Contradiction Wave had done its job disorienting her, and Jake’s surprise follow up caught her unprepared. His saber, enhanced by Lunar Dao Polishing, lopped off one of her wings. He felt a surprising amount of resistance as the blade sheared through the thick muscle and bone, but it did the job.

Jake didn’t wait around; he didn’t even turn to see the damage. Instead, he immediately flash-stepped away.

His caution likely saved his life.

Jagged crimson lightning erupted all around the sphinx, burning the rock and making the area buzz. A smell like ozone filled the air. As the sphinx growled, looking around for him through the smoke, Jake had already begun forming another Demonic Contradict Wave.

“Where are you, Poppet!?”

Jake didn’t answer. As he brought his hand up, the enraged sphinx moved quickly, bounding at him with incredible speed. Angry red energy claws had formed on her hands, and her eyes glowed with the same color. Jake barely managed to fire his attack before the creature was on him. She was close enough that he was partially caught in the blast before flash-stepping away.

Backlash from using Demonic Contradiction Wave had never been a problem before. For the first time, he wished he could turn off its explosive nature.

The moment he was back in normal time and space, his instincts screamed and Jake listened. He dove away, rolling on the sharp, unforgiving rocks. Where he’d just been standing erupted in a geyser of crimson energy.

“You nasty little thing! I’m going to tear you apart and suck your marrow, Poppet!” screeched the sphinx. She weaved her hands together with trails of magic energy following them.

Something told Jake not to attack again, to be defensive for a moment.

He spun his cultivation base, delivering power to his body, using his new senses to keep track of his surroundings.

Faster than he would have expected possible, a set of bars materialized around him, complete with a roof. The sphinx gave a nasty smile and leveled one hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she had restricted his movement and was getting ready to launch a magical attack.

Jake briefly considered darting directly through the trap after phasing, but decided not to reveal his relative immunity to magic barriers yet. He reasoned that the sphinx could feel how he traveled when he flash-stepped, even if not exactly where. He figured it didn’t matter in the long run, because he had no choice but to avoid her next attack. But if it would probably be better if he didn’t pass directly through her magic just in case she’d be able to sense it.

With a thought, Jake phased out and flash-stepped directly into the rocky hillside. He rejoined physical reality in the tunnel that the sphinx had stalked him at almost a year ago. Jake briefly wished he was better at Demonic Contradiction Wave attacks, or had better focus. It’d be nice if he could gather a huge attack beforehand, phase, fire, and retreat. Maybe in the future, he thought. For now, he would just have to play this by ear.

He phased and flash-stepped back to the battlefield, appearing behind the sphinx. She didn’t even turn as her tail immediately jabbed at him with the point. Maybe she’d smelled him or sensed him. Either way, her attack was accurate.

Jake blocked with his saber and avoided the blow, but wasn’t able to get the leverage or edge alignment to do any damage in return. Lunar Dao Polishing was already fading on the blade too. Jake renewed the wicked, energy-fueled edge and moved in on the sphinx.

The creature shrieked with hate, her scream a wordless promise of violence.

She was faster than he was, but Jake was no slouch. He dodged and weaved, slashing and whirling his blade around. Jake had used a saber for years as an adventurer, and the last year in Swampland had allowed him time to practice wielding a sword as a Silver-level cultivator. He moved fluidly, staying in motion. The sphinx grunted in frustration and she attacked with her crimson energy claws, finding nothing but air.

But Jake couldn’t land a hit either. He grunted in frustration. The sphinx was not only incredibly agile for such a large creature, she was also able to stop Jake’s sword cold with the crimson energy protecting her arms and forming claws.

After just a few exchanges, Jake was getting pushed back! The sphinx slashed again, a big, powerful haymaker, and Jake barely managed to parry the blow. Suddenly, his opponent turned and attacked with her tail. It cracked like a whip, and if not for Jake’s new protection field blunting some of the attack, slowing it down, it might have taken his head off.

The end of the creature’s tail slammed into his head, and the tip of the stinger barely missed his face. Jake dove away and watched with narrowed eyes as the sphinx stumbled. He suddenly realized that the creature was likely unbalanced because of the loss of her wing. If he hadn’t succeeded with his first, surprise attack, he might already be toast.

Jake flash-stepped to a nearby ridge and gritted his teeth, gathering energy. He leveled his hand and prepared a Demonic Contradiction Wave. Based on how the attack had hit before, it seemed capable of penetrating her passive defenses to at least hurt her.

He launched the attack and the sphinx growled as red protective energy sprang up. The barrier activated right before the attack hit and disappeared after it was gone. This time, the Demonic Contradiction Wave didn’t even scratch her.

God damn it, he thought. The creature’s defensive dome was a low-level magic ability being cast with a high degree of mastery. Jake recognized it. And in that moment, he began to formulate a plan.

After Jake repositioned, he began charging another Demonic Contradiction Wave. He had to keep the beast off-balance, buy himself some time to think.

Closing with her again would be foolish. He just wasn’t strong enough. Living through the first exchange had been due as much to luck as anything else.

Jake’s experience was keeping him alive so far, but this fight was really driving home that most of his time fighting monsters in the past had been as part of a team. Now he was solo. Nobody could bail him out of this one. Running away or even finishing the trial might still be an option, but it might not be either. He had cut off the sphinx’s wing. She couldn’t fly anymore. If he tried to hide, maybe she’d just camp out where he had to go to leave this trial. And he didn’t know if there was a delay after he touched the stone to end it or not.

Besides, Jake had to do this, had to fight his battle. So far, all of his major wins in this new life had been through traps, tricks, or misunderstandings. And he had a feeling that things back on Earth could get really out of control, really fast. Now that he had the ability to gain strength, he had to take it. And there was no better training for combat than fighting.

And if he ran away now, part of him feared he might begin a habit of running away.

He launched his attack, but the sphinx actually located him and retaliated before her shield flared to life. Her crimson power flared around her hands, and a hail of savage, flaming darts flashed at Jake.

Shit! he thought. His energy was still committed to launching his attack, so he couldn’t flash-step away in time. He sprang back and to the side in a desperate dodge, trying to get behind a half-exposed boulder. Two of the fiery darts hit him. They weren’t completely solid strikes, but penetrated his protection field nonetheless.

Jake snarled in pain. One magic bolt had taken him in the shoulder. The other had clipped his side. Neither wound stopped him from moving properly yet, but if either bolt had hit just a few inches to the side, it might have been a different story.

He flash-stepped to another vantage point. This time, he built up a Demonic Contradiction Wave before the sphinx could use her torn attack or charge him, and let fly. Then he moved locations yet again. He’d managed to escape and reposition himself unscathed this time, but the wounds he’d sustained hurt like hell. They were also draining his energy faster. He whirled his cultivation base, building up power, but his body shunted some of it into stabilizing and healing the damage he’d taken.

Now he knew that his regeneration ability could be a double-edged sword.

Reposition, attack. Reposition, attack. The sphinx roared in frustration as she kept trying to locate Jake. He stayed far enough away that she couldn’t rush him, and he managed to evade two more magic thorn attacks she showered him with. He was lucky she didn’t have a movement technique or better senses.

Each time he attacked, the sphinx blocked it with her red dome shield. Jake watched carefully to make sure he was right, that it functioned the way he thought. Finally, he confirmed it. There was a second, weaker, almost invisible dome that was acting as a triggering mechanism for the shield. It was like a switch. This allowed the sphinx to conserve mana between attacks. It was also a failsafe of sorts.

One of the only downsides with this spell was how the blocking shield grew darker the more damage it stopped, drawing more power to do so. Jake didn’t think he could actually drain the sphinx of magic power, but there was another way to end this fight. Hopefully

Jake flash-stepped and attacked again, this time with a double Demonic Contradiction Wave. The sphinx’s red protective dome grew much darker, but was still not quite to the level Jake required. He needed a more powerful attack, but would need time to make one.

Unfortunately, the sphinx also seemed to have given up trying to close with him. This was bad. She must have realized that she had the advantage by waiting him out. So now she was staying still. Her protection was working just fine, and the efficiency of the shield was great. She could wear Jake down until he was out of gas at this speed or get lucky and hit him solidly with one of her ranged attacks.

Jake frowned. If he started building or casting massive attacks, the sphinx’s stationary strategy could change in a heartbeat. She seemed to be finding him faster now after he repositioned too. Ultimately, the sphinx growing calmer meant she was thinking, and smart enemies were the worst enemies.

Jake was starting to feel like the fight was tipping against him.

A momentary wave of despair surged through his body. This was the strongest enemy he’d ever fought. The entire Grasshopper Mice team in his past life would have been annihilated in moments. Jake was only holding on due to his enhanced speed and power, but he was running out of gas quickly.

Hopefully, his half-formed plan would work. Either way, it was the best idea he had, and the alternative was to lose a war of attrition.

Jake flash-stepped to a stony hill and began building a triple layer Demonic Contradiction Wave. He used elements from batteries, from a sugary soda, the energy of Swampland, and a few other objects from his storage ring to form the mysterious attack.

The process of building the spiritual layered projectile was much faster now that he’d cultivated higher, but still far too slow. He needed the sphinx to keep her shield up—it seemed to prevent her from showering him with fiery needles. Sometimes the solution to problems was to just shoot them. Jake drew his revolver out of his storage ring and began firing.

The distance was a bit far for a revolver, but the sphinx was a big target too—twice the size of a hippo.

At least two bullets made contact.

Jake grinned as the creature’s shield flared to life. The revolver would have been useless against such a powerful monster even without her active shield in place. Now he was using her own spell against her.

Unfortunately, she was quick to figure out that Jake was up to something. Maybe she could sense that he was gathering more energy than before. The sphinx made a strange roar and bounded directly toward Jake. Her shield partially cleared as she was in motion and her eyes widened in glee when she saw Jake staying in one place. “Let us end this, Poppet! I am hungry!” she crowed.

Despite the terrifying creature running at him at cheetah-like speed, Jake stood his ground, desperately trying to finalize his triple Demonic Contradiction Wave. He barely finished it before the sphinx was on top of him.

Without hesitation, he hit her with it from only about ten yards away, more or less point-blank range for an explosive attack.

The sphinx was pushed back, her shield flaring a deep red.

Jake was blown off his feet and went rolling away. The sharp rocks cut him up as he tumbled.

But Jake wasn’t human anymore, and he was already past the peak of what should have been possible with Silver-level Body Refinement Stage cultivation. With a surge of motion, he was already back on his feet before the Demonic Contradiction Wave detonated a second time. Luckily, he was barely far enough away now that most of the toxic explosion missed him, and his personal protection field saved him from the rest of it.

The second explosion didn’t push the sphinx. She held firm in one place, but her shield was darkening. When the third, rapid-fire blast went off, the shield went completely dark and Jake recognized his chance.

He flash-stepped to one side, quickly cycled his cultivation base, and flash-stepped again directly at the sphinx, right before her shield cleared. The risky double maneuver could have ruined him, torqued his body, or even burned his meridians if not for his years of experience.

Experience also guided his hand as he attacked.

His sword found the creature’s side and he drove it in with all of his weight behind it, slamming it up to the hilt. The sphinx made a terrible, warbling, half-human, half-animal-sounding scream. Her tail whipped forward, trying to eviscerate Jake, but he’d actually slid under the creature’s body, repositioning to her other side while she was in agony and disoriented.

He applied Lunar Dao Polishing to one of his other sabers from his storage ring and impaled the sphinx’s other side. The moment the sword had penetrated most of the way, he flash-stepped away.

Jake didn’t let up, though. From his vantage on top of a conical boulder, he began preparing a double Demonic Contradiction Wave. This one had essence that he’d drawn from a bottle of bleach, as well as energy from Swampland, and even some fire that he gathered from an open flame on the ground.

The sphinx must have sensed the gathering energy, because she took off at a dead sprint. Great puddles of blood on the ground clearly marked her trail.

Jake’s attack missed and carved a dent out of the rocky landscape, the explosion blowing rock everywhere.

He tsked but knew the fight was over. The sphinx had been bleeding from her wing he’d cut the entire battle, and now she was completely impaled by two swords. His Demonic Contradiction Waves hadn’t done much damage so far, but her energy was draining fast now.

Jake followed her at a leisurely distance until she started slowing down.

She turned, gasping for air. It was as if her lungs were filling with blood. The blood pouring from her wounds had frothy bubbles in it. The energy and feeling of power she’d been giving off before was almost gone. She smiled without humor. “Seems you got lucky, Poppet.”

“Maybe a little,” said Jake. He spat. “You aren’t going to be eating me today, though.”

“Never thought it would end like this.”

Jake didn’t bother replying to that, and the sphinx seemed to accept her fate. She couldn’t run anymore, anyway.

The nightmarish-looking creature closed her eyes and held her head high.

This thing might be evil and disturbing as fuck, but at least it has style, he thought.

Jake’s attack took the powerless sphinx’s head off.

He collapsed onto his butt.

After panting for a moment, he hacked and spat, then said, “Piece of cake.” His tone wasn’t convincing.

Jake began checking his body for wounds with his hands. He was wounded and exhausted, physically and spiritually. His meridians strained. This was the hardest he’d leaned on his cultivation base since he’d begun his new life.

With a tired sigh, Jake got up and approached the corpse. He was still cautious, though. After a brief moment to think, he reloaded his revolver and emptied the entire cylinder into the sphinx to make certain she was truly dead. Sure enough, there was no protection field and each round perforated her tough hide. Dark blood oozed from the wounds.

When he rounded to the other side of the body, he found exactly what he’d been hoping for—a big, shining monster core. Unlike the cores he’d gotten from the porcine giants before, this one was compatible with Jake’s planned evolution path. It was perfect.

But now that he thought about it, the sphinx obviously hadn’t been a giant, which meant she must have eaten them. That was a disturbing thought.

Jake managed a weary but triumphant smile and phased, then flash-stepped into a protected chamber he’d carved into the rock below. He planned to use his new monster core to cultivate forward. Cultivating would speed up his natural recovery, and maybe he could reach the Silver Twelve level of the Body Refinement Stage. Going past the tenth level shouldn’t have been possible in the first place. He was curious what would happen now, though. This was all uncharted territory.

The moment he was situated in his protected chamber, circle drawn, spirit calmed, he began to cultivate.

* * *

A week later, Jake felt himself reach a bottleneck in his cultivation. The sphinx core had been many times more potent than any other core he’d ever cultivated before. He’d somehow reached the very peak of the Silver Thirteen level of the Body Refinement Stage... and blew right through it.

This time, unlike before, he felt pain.

The world around him swirled and howled, like Jake had become a vacuum. Energy created a vortex around his body, the very stone of his underground chamber seeming to turn to dust and rush toward him.

He felt more flashing from the sky, just like last time, and this time, he knew it was not his imagination. The ground rumbled as lightning crashed into the stone overhead. Jake was protected, though. He ignored it.

His soul felt like it was ripping and tearing, then healing, and starting all over again. It spread through his body, the sensation bizarre, like his body belonged to him completely now, like he’d just been renting it before.

Finally, all of the pain and the air rushing around him ceased. The sudden silence coincided with a spiritual stillness around Jake, like the universe was holding its breath.

When he stood, he felt like he’d been reborn. He was a new Gold One level of the Body Refinement cultivator with a foundation of thirteen levels of Silver, the stage of flesh.

He was proud, but also slightly worried. Now he knew what the flashing he’d felt had meant. Tribulation lightning. He’d remembered something his master had said long ago, something about how the heavens would punish those who broke the natural laws, or violated nature using Daoism.

Jake phased and flash-stepped back to the surface. He spared a glance for the burned, broken ground where the tribulation lightning had hit, then dismissed it. No use worrying about it yet.

He flexed his hand, admiring the new strength he felt throughout his body. His protection field was thicker, more substantial. Something told him that his regeneration ability was many times stronger now too.

With a sudden flash of inspiration, Jake gathered energy and delivered a simple Demonic Contradiction Wave at a boulder in the distance.

Not only was it easier and quicker to form the attack, it landed with more power too.

“Wow,” he said. Then he grinned.

Jake stretched as he walked toward the extraction point. This trial had nothing left for him, and he was ready to face the next one.

It was too early to get cocky about anything, but now he was sure that some random guys with guns back in Georgia were not going to be a problem anymore.

Chapter 29

After a brief but profoundly unpleasant-feeling transition, Jake found himself in a new place. It looked like a giant colosseum, and he was to one side, standing on sand, looking up at the empty stands.

Near the other side of the area, surrounded by old bones, sitting on her haunches was another demonic sphinx.

“Another one?” he complained.

The sphinx cocked her head to the side. Like the last one Jake had met, her speech sounded in his mind. “Another? Have you encountered one of my kind before?”

Jake didn’t answer and mentally kicked himself for saying anything in the first place. Volunteering information to enemies was almost always a bad move, especially with intelligent monsters. When he knew he was likely at a disadvantage, like now, it was the best time to shut the fuck up.

Running his mouth could be a tool in some cases, but it could also be a liability.

As the sphinx stared at him, Jake quickly looked around. The colosseum had tiers of stone seats. Pillars of the same material rose at regular intervals, in eight rows from the edge of the area to the walls. The place was huge, but it was still a building with a roof. Even with both of her wings working perfectly, the sphinx’s natural advantages were mostly nullified by the battlefield.

At the far end of the arena, Jake caught sight of the door to exit the challenge. It would be locked before this “boss” was defeated, of course.

“Are you going to answer?” asked the sphinx. When Jake stayed silent, she snarled, but remained stationary. “Fine, don’t say anything. I really don’t care, I just figured you’d want to chat first before I destroy you.” She scoffed. “Coming here alone? Are you mad? Let’s just get this over with so I can go back to sleep.”

Jake kept observing the area. He didn’t know why the sphinx was staying in one spot and not attacking, but he wouldn’t complain about it. After a thought, he used his mage sight and realized why the monster hadn’t moved.

It turned out he’d appeared inside of a magic circle of sorts. There was one around the sphinx too. His mage abilities were not advanced to actually read most of the magic involved, and it was complicated. The circle Jake was in was a trigger of sorts. Ironically, if he’d come with a group, someone would have stepped outside of the circle for sure. It looked like taking any kind of magic or mystical action would start the fight. Since all Jake had been doing was looking around, he’d gotten a reprieve.

He was actually curious about some aspects of the challenge. “What did you do to be in here? You’re a prisoner or a slave, aren’t you?” He chuckled and said under his breath, “Slave fights.”

Fucking Faceted bastards, he thought.

“I have no desire to tell you anything, even if I could...whatever you are. What are you, actually? You look something like a ghoul, but it’s all wrong.”

Jake smirked. “I have no desire to tell you anything.”

The sphinx gave him a murderous look as he repeated her own words back to her. “Very well. No point in any further discourse then.” Despite her words, the monster stayed stationary.

He spread his senses out, ensuring that he was alone with this one enemy. It seemed he was, so he continued to acclimate to the arena.

The lighting of the place was dim, but that didn’t bother Jake. If anything, this battlefield was amazing for him. There were plenty of places to reposition at, pillars he could phase through, and ways to hobble his enemy. It was definitely not a bad place for him to fight.

A thought crossed his mind that he could probably even just sit down and try cultivating. He dismissed it almost immediately, though. Cultivation likely wouldn’t work here with the sphinx constantly talking, messing with his concentration, and he didn’t have the time for it. Without monster cores to consume, just regular cultivation was far too slow.

Time moved slower in a challenge portal, but it didn’t stop completely. Even if it were possible to have reached the tenth level of Silver with Swampland’s energy, if Jake had spent hundreds, or even a thousand years of years trying to do so, some significant time would have passed back in Georgia.

The same problem would apply in this trial. A year or two was fine, but Jake didn’t have a millennium to waste. Part of him also feared that if he spent too long in one of these trials, he might start to lose himself or even take damage to his mind.

He tried to think of other things he could do with this unexpected reprieve he had, but he didn’t actually need it. Anything he’d had left to do, to think about, he would have done in Swampland before leaving the trial.

He eyed the sphinx for a while longer. Finally, he decided that there was no point putting off the inevitable. Jake walked forward, slowly.

When the sphinx’s eyes widened in glee and her muscles tensed, Jake said, “Yes, I know about the circle I just crossed.”

Suddenly much less sure of herself, the monster frowned and settled back again. She must have sensed something was wrong. Jake unhurriedly drew his favorite saber from his belt. His Gold-level Body Refinement cultivation base practically thrummed through his body. It was more power than he could have imagined before. He felt like he could lift a car. Actually, maybe he could now.

The sphinx narrowed her eyes. Jake was not acting the way she must have expected him to. “You are very strange for a little bug, aren’t you?”

“Little bug,” Jake repeated. He chuckled. “The problem with monsters like you is that you have always been big and bad. You don’t know how to react when shit doesn’t go the way you expect. Rigid, I guess. You are not adaptable, and the willow that can’t bend will break.” He shook his head. “My old master said that once. I think he got it from a comic, though.”

He continued walking forward, and the sphinx actually took a step back before she seemed to realize what she was doing. She reared up to her full height and sniffed the air. A strange look crossed her face. “Something about you smells... familiar. You have met one of my kin, haven’t you?”

Jake did not answer right away. He scanned the creature with his senses. Now that he was closer, he was sure. This monster was definitely stronger than the last sphinx he’d killed... but not by much.

And Jake was a whole hell of a lot stronger now.

This was still going to be a tough fight, but he was pretty confident about how it was going to go. The sphinx had a shield spell up that looked almost the same as the last sphinx that he’d killed, and he knew exactly what to do about that now. His eyes glowed blue.

“What do you think?”

The demon sphinx snarled. “I think that—”

Jake didn’t wait for her to finish. Monsters loved to monologue and he wasn’t too proud to take advantage of it. His saber glinted as he flash-stepped forward.

No matter how powerful he grew, Jake promised himself to try never underestimating anyone or anything. He promised himself to never be listening to the sound of his own voice while someone put a sword in his side.

* * *

“You are back.” The Faceted’s “voice” in Jake’s head was flat.

“Sure am,” replied Jake cheerfully. He had a brand-new sphinx monster core in his storage ring. Before going through the exit door in the last trial, he’d considered cultivating with his new prize, but had decided not to. Gold was a trickier stage of Body Refinement than Copper and Silver. It would be best if he could find an ideal place to cultivate before moving any farther forward on his path.

He’d only stayed in the last trial long enough to heal his minor wounds. The fight had gone even better than he’d expected, and he hadn’t even been hurt that bad. At one point, it’d been close, though. He’d gotten lucky.

Actually, it was kind of scary to think about how close he’d come to losing an arm.

The Faceted didn’t say anything else for almost a minute. Jake stood in the strange metal forest landscape, just looking around. He was content to wait the nasty thing out. So sorry for not listening to your advice and fucking up your plan, you bastard, he thought.

Finally, the Faceted said, “Congratulations for completing your trials. Your reward has been difficult to process.”

“Why?”

“Although you have completed each trial with great thoroughness, you took a long time to do so.”

A long time? This was news to Jake. “There wasn’t any mention of a time limit before I began my trial,” he said.

“Yes, and this was taken into account as well. Mention of time being a factor would normally have been necessary, but you have... unique circumstances.”

Jake was starting to understand what the problem was. Unfortunately, he knew there was no point in arguing with the Faceted. They were assholes, but they kept strict adherence to their own rules—when they benefited the challenger or screwed them over.

“So, what is my ranking?”

“You have achieved an A ranking. It was close. If you had spent a few more minutes on your last trial, it would have been a B ranking instead.”

Jake wondered what ranking he would have gotten without the hidden time limit. He was tempted again to complain about hidden rules being bullshit, but he just nodded instead. There was really no point in wasting his energy, and his main goal—to get stronger—had been accomplished in spades already.

The Faceted said, “Now please provide me with three keywords for the types of rewards you would like, and then the Assessment Room will display some appropriate options for you.”

At least Jake had been expecting this part. He’d already thought about it too. His new protection field was powerful, but wasn’t all that useful against other monsters, or if he met enemies who were his level... or stronger.

“My first keyword is Divine Sect of the Martial Wandering Dragon God.” Like last time, Jake planned to use his teacher’s sect as one of his keywords. His second and third keywords would be different, though. “My second keyword is uniquely compatible items.” Some adventurers in his first life had puzzled out this keyword. Using it often resulted in better choices, and sometimes growth-type rewards were even in the mix. “And my third keyword is cultivator-appropriate armor.”

The Faceted snapped its alien fingers, and orbs appeared in the air all around Jake. “These are the rewards you may choose from, clearly labeled by reward tier. You may take any one reward. Choose wisely, mysterious, unwanted creature.”

That’s rich coming from a Faceted, Jake thought. He started skimming through his available options.

After a quick check to make sure this Faceted wasn’t trying to screw him on his choices like the last one had, Jake began to browse in earnest.

Luckily, the A-tier rewards were quite good. It was a pity that Jake hadn’t gotten S-tier rewards this time around, but it hadn’t been his actual goal, and some of the items he saw definitely caught his interest.

A few included:

Bracers of the Martial Savant. Hand wraps whose original owner is lost in time, but even after degradation, are still potent protection. Able to absorb energy and release energy blasts. Growth-type.

Yes, a Growth-type! he thought. Jake took special notice of items with the Growth-type identifier. They were artifacts that had the ability to improve or get stronger over time.

There were other interesting entries too, though.

Jug of Perpetual Vigor. An earthen container that produces an elixir to nourish any being—mind, body, and spirit. Whoever drinks from this artifact will be beyond hunger, disease, thirst, and even suffocation for a short while. Any Dao practitioner under the effect of this enchantment will also experience elevated alchemy-sense.

This item seemed amazing, and Jake wondered why it wasn’t S-tier. If he understood correctly, the jug could even be used for cultivation. He figured maybe the downside was that the effects were weak. Had to be. Otherwise, it would be higher than S, like... SS.

He was also drawn to Meng Hao’s Boots, Mystic’s Crystal Ocean Gloves, and Flame Feeding on Eternal Darkness Shield.

But after thoroughly examining all of his options, the best thing that he could get immediate use was Deep Heavens Solstice Society Midnight Cloak.

Deep Heavens Solstice Society Midnight Cloak. A garment with protective qualities. Can be controlled with the mind of the owner with practice. Low-level independent movement and cognition. Growth-type.

Not only was the description good, Jake could faintly remember his teacher mentioning the Deep Heavens Solstice Society once. The cranky old man had seemed to have grudging respect for them, which was high praise indeed from him.

It was also a Growth-type artifact. Growth-types had no guarantee of ever becoming stronger, but Jake liked the possibility.

He took a while to make sure his mind was made up, but eventually, he settled on the cloak. All the armor choices had been tempting, but he didn’t know where he was going, or how some armor might fit him, or whether other choices might work for him in the future, especially if he evolved again.

“I will take the Deep Heavens Solstice Society Midnight Cloak.”

“So be it. Now you may leave the assessment room. Congratulations on your survival and your prize. I hope that should we meet again, you will consider taking my advice.”

Before Jake could answer, the world spiraled and sparked.

Next thing he knew, he was back in the forest outside of Macon, Georgia. The nighttime air was muggy. Insects went silent a few seconds after he’d returned.

A plain black cloak was on the ground. He wasted no time in putting it on.

The moment he settled it around his shoulders, the cloak attached like it was a part of him, and he... felt it, like a limb that had been dunked in ice water. He didn’t have complete control and it felt alien, but he knew it was there.

It began to gently twitch, like there was an invisible breeze, and a pair of sleeves extended down Jake’s arms, offering what looked like metal protection to his shoulders and elbows. They were really just hardened portions of the artifact’s material.

Then the cloak grew still, and Jake experimentally moved it with his mind. He could swirl it without a problem, but it was only after a few minutes of intense concentration that he was able to actually pick up a stick from the ground with one corner of the fabric.

“Interesting,” he grunted. “I guess it gets better with time. Would have to.”

Jake stretched as he looked up at the uncaring stars. He still had a lot to do, but spending so long in the challenge room had not only helped him grow in strength, he’d had a lot of time to think. He had a pretty good idea what was going in in Macon, now.

But before he acted on his suspicions, he had some people to talk to first.

It was time to go right back to where he’d just come from and pay the Warhounds a little visit.

Chapter 30

Moving through the woods felt even more natural now. Jake flowed like a shadow. He grinned in appreciation as his new cloak fitted itself tightly to his body on its own, letting him move without getting caught on things or making extra noise.

The Deep Heavens Solstice Midnight Cloak kind of didn't look like a cloak anymore, more like a cape with some sleeves, but it was definitely living up to the hype of an A-rank reward from a challenge room.

Jake checked his internal clock and verified that some time had passed, but it was still night time of the day he’d left. The only difference was him. He’d had a lot of time to think. Time had given him some clarity of thought on the situation he was coming back to.

The Warhounds’ compound was the same as it had been before. The Post Apoc Kings were all gone now, though. It seemed there hadn’t been a fight—Jake didn’t see any fires or smell any blood. There were no recent signs of violence. Cooler heads must have prevailed.

Hopefully, the Warhounds would still be rational.

There were more men guarding the gates than Jake figured there usually would be. They must still be worried about the Post Apoc Kings coming back. Jake stuck to the shadows in the forest and used his new powerful senses to scan the entire compound. It took no time at all to figure out where all the Warhounds were. From that information, he had a good idea of where the families were staying based on the concentration of lives and their power.

Weak life signals were most likely children.

Jake moved quietly to one corner of the school-turned-base and phased before flash-stepping right through the fence. Only a few hours ago in this world, Jake had been a Silver-level Body Refinement cultivator and a novice with his shadow ghoul powers. He wouldn’t quite call himself a master now, but he was at least competent... and a Gold-level Body Refinement cultivator to boot.

He moved between two buildings and dropped his phase ability before the time ran out. Phasing required concentration and time to recharge, but he almost didn’t bother to phase again. Especially now that he was inside the compound, he really didn’t have anything to fear anymore. He almost just left his hiding spot, not caring who saw him or if he started a panic. But then he remembered his promise to himself, to try to remember not to be too arrogant.

In the end, he waited until he could phase again and moved to the building that he’d judged was the Warhounds’ jail. How he dealt with these people would depend on whether they were worthy of being treated like people.

He reappeared in a closet. As soon as he was sure the coast was clear, Jake moved to the two classrooms that had been converted into jail cells of a sort. At one time, this area of the school might have been for special education.

Jake stayed hidden and it didn’t take him long to decide that the prisoners were not being mistreated, at least not within the context of an end-of-the-world event. He’d been half-expecting to find some sort of terrible torture dungeon and was happy to be wrong.

For the next ten or twenty minutes, Jake stealthily moved around the compound, checking every area he could feel life signs. He even scoped out a few that didn’t have any, just to make sure that they weren’t full of bodies or something.

By the time he was done searching, Jake was satisfied. Now he was relatively certain that the Warhounds were not bandits. At least, they weren’t yet.

He’d kept an eye out for any personnel matching the description that his sister had given him too. As far as he could tell, there were no Warhounds like that. Their leader had not been lying during the standoff with the Post Apoc Kings.

Jake was satisfied. Now it was time to have a chat.

He popped back into reality next to the most sparsely populated end of what he judged to be the Warhounds admin center.

Some paramilitary groups formed after Purple Rain might keep the barracks and command area in the same building, but it seemed the Warhounds had them separate. Due to the fact they were using a school, this sort of made sense. It seemed like they’d turned the office area into the command post, and the classrooms had all been converted into shelters, or maybe in-progress apartments.

Jake used his senses to dial in on his surroundings and mentally cursed. He would not be able to keep playing monster ninja. There were just too many people near his target.

He knew exactly where the Warhounds’ leader was. This close, he could actually differentiate the man’s aura, recognizing it from when he’d seen him before.

Okay, no way to get around this, he thought. He could phase directly into the man’s room, but that was going to cause chaos. The leader wasn’t alone. And if the Warhounds freaked out and started shooting everywhere, they wouldn’t likely hurt Jake but could kill each other. He wanted to have a chat without spilling any unnecessary blood.

Jake squared his shoulders, moved up to the double glass doors of the command building, and knocked. He then folded his arms.

An oil lantern burned on the desk inside. It gave off just enough light to illuminate the entire reception area for human eyes. These folks are smart, Jake admitted. Saving batteries right now as much as possible was wise.

From inside the building, he heard someone shout, “Who’s knocking? It’s open!”

Jake sighed to himself. Why must everything always be difficult? I’m trying to be nice. He knocked again and refolded his arms.

A few minutes later, an overweight man wearing a jersey and a baseball cap came out of a hallway into the large room beyond the doors. He was carrying a cup of something steaming, probably coffee. A double-barrel shotgun was in his other hand.

When he saw who was outside the door, he dropped the cup. It was coffee, Jake thought. Makes sense. The entire group is probably on high alert, staying up. The man continued to stare. Dancing light from the oil lantern cast shadows across his unshaven face, and his mouth worked.

Jake wasn’t sure exactly what to do, so he uncrossed his arms and waved. That seemed to be the wrong decision because the man shouted, leveled his shotgun, and shot Jake through the glass door.

Glass erupted outwards. The night was shattered. Broken shards rained down on the concrete outside. Booming echoes returned from the distant trees as the gunshot echoed around the compound.

So this is what it feels to be shot while you have a protection field, Jake thought. The sensation was like being punched, or maybe slapped, but with no pain. He could tell how much impact there’d been and what direction it’d come from, but it hadn’t been enough to breach his field. His energy reserves dropped a tiny amount.

Most of the monsters he’d faced in his first life had lost mana or endurance to fuel their protection, so this made sense.

Just to be safe, Jake instructed his Midnight Cloak to swirl around, covering him in the front like armor. “There is no need to shoot at me—” he began.

The man eeped, cocked a hammer, and fired again. This time, the buckshot hit Jake’s artifact cloak and didn’t even make a dent. The blow didn’t decrease his energy this time or have any other effect. Within the building, shouts and the sounds of running feet echoed. There was about to be more company.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Jake grumbled. This situation hadn’t been entirely unexpected, but he was still not pleased. He crossed the broken doorway, taking a single step into the building. The structure was not a home, so there was no threshold. But even if there’d been one, he would still be able to deal with these yahoos.

Curiously, despite no threshold, he could still feel some sort of residual energy. Even though it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, it was notable. While Jake was thinking about that, two more people came running into the reception room.

One was a woman with a tall, lean frame. She slammed to a halt as she took in the scene. The other person was a big guy that Jake recognized—the Awoken he’d seen earlier with bone armor growing through his skin. Sure enough, the moment the man saw Jake, he manifested his spikes and other ridges that grew right out of his skin.

“I just shot this fucking thing twice!” yelled the first man. His shotgun trembled in his unsteady hands. He opened the action and fumbled around at his bandolier for another two shells.

“Stay back, Tom. I got this.” The bony armor guy stepped forward as the woman faded back. Jake noticed the 1911 pistol in her hands. She held her weapon in good grip and moved like she knew what she was doing.

“Hey, I just want to talk,” Jake said. He knew his voice was still dark and terrible, but he could speak normally now if he focused on it—a perk for being a Gold-level Body Refinement cultivator.

“It spoke!” gasped the woman.

“Yes, like I said, I came here to talk or I wouldn’t have knocked first.” Jake could understand their fear, but he was still feeling a little annoyed by the situation. The clock was ticking. “I didn’t fuck up your door. Shotgun guy did.”

“I’ll get it!” yelled the bony man, and he rushed at Jake. When he surged forward, Jake was mildly surprised. The guy was not all talk. His awakened ability obviously imparted some very serious physicality.

It didn’t matter much to Jake, though. The guy’s rush ended up with a foot to the face. Jake diverted the big, awakened attacker down and to one side before using his head as a foothold to hop up. His cloak spread and actually slowed his fall, giving him a full second in the air.

When he landed, more people were rushing into the reception room from the hallway. One man raised a rifle, but the tall woman put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. “Gary is there. Let him try first. We’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“I can hear you, you know,” groused Jake. “My goal was to have a nice, peaceful chat. I know I don’t look human right now, but the fact that I’m not killing you all should be a clue that—”

The bone man, Gary, got up and punched. His fist had a layer of spikes on it. Jake moved Midnight Cloak up in time and stopped it cold. He was surprised by the power of the attack, however. It would have pulped in a normal person’s chest.

Jake kicked out, more of a push than an attack, and knocked the man back again. “Look, dude, Gary, right? I’ve been pretty chill about you people trying to kill me, because I understand how I look. But this is twice now. If you come out me again, I’ll—”

Gary roared and rushed him, throwing a powerful haymaker.

“Fine.” Jake parried the attack with both hands, kept a grip on the other man’s wrist, and brought Gary’s arm down as his knee came up. There was a sick crunch as Jake broke the awakened man’s arm. He twisted the devastated limb in its socket and kicked Gary’s foot out from underneath him. The big man landed in a heap before screaming out all the air in his lungs. He bit his lip and closed his eyes while cradling his arm, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh shit! Everyone, shoot this fu—” started the man with the rifle, but a newcomer silenced him.

“Everyone, stop.” The man who’d spoken was the tall, bearded man Jake had seen before, the Warhounds’ leader. To his side was a young guy with a wispy mustache and a curvy young woman with red hair and glasses.

The redhead gasped. “The Grim. Holy shit, it’s The Grim! Heavenly Grim!”

“What?” the tall man, the leader, asked. He had an AK-47 in his hands pointed at Jake.

In front of the reception desk, the man Jake had first met had finally reloaded his shotgun. He shouted, “That thing is bulletproof, Vincent!”

“Oh my god! There’s a fucking monster in the building!” One of the other newcomers, the young-looking mustached guy dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, fired three rounds from his Glock. Jake had already gotten his cloak up, and every bullet hit, dumped its energy, and fell harmlessly to the ground.

“Stop! Holy shit, stop!” barked Vincent. “Cease fire!” He glared at the shooter. “What the hell? It’s not moving. Are you trying to destroy our hearing for fun now!?”

“It hurt Gary!”

“I know, but it’s talking—in English—and Gary is still alive. Everyone hold your fucking fire or I will stick a boot up your ass! Not only that, Gary is in the line of fire! What is wrong with you!?”

“Gary is bulletproof,” groused the mustachioed shooter, but he lowered his pistol.

“Yes, he is. But Tom just said the monster that beat Gary is bulletproof too,” said the leader. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt if we can help it. All of you stay frosty. But we don’t shoot at other Warhounds if we can help it. Damn.” He waved a hand. “Again, everyone, hold your fire.” Then he turned to the young woman while keeping an eye on Jake. “What did you say, Helen?”

“It’s the Grim! The monster that spoke and warned people not to be lawless assholes on the internet! Remember? I told you about it but the internet went out. The monster that wrote the rules of Purple Rain survival!”

The leader, Vincent, narrowed his eyes. He looked around. “Nobody do anything for a while. Let me think!” He fixed Jake with a savage stare before slightly lowering his rifle. “And you, monster, if you really are intelligent, that goes for you too.”

Jake was impressed that the Warhounds’ leader was so levelheaded, especially given such a strange situation. Then he remembered how the standoff earlier that night with the Post Apoc King hadn’t ended in bloodshed and realized he really shouldn’t be surprised.

He was being nice, but there was a limit, so he said, “You aren’t really in a position to be giving me orders, dude, but alright. Think fast, though. We really need to have a chat.” The man on the ground, Gary, groaned quietly until Jake gave him a fierce look. “Suffer in silence, dickhead.”

The mustached guy suddenly brought his pistol up again and shouted, “Wait! Don’t invite it into the building!”

“It’s already in the building,” the tall woman with the 1911 said, voice droll.

“Oh.”

“We should just wait until everyone else gets here and light him up,” Tom, the shotgun guy, said.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” The guy who spoke hadn't said anything before now. He held a bolt action rifle.

“I should have known nobody was going to let me think,” complained Vincent. He fixed Jake with a steely gaze. Jake knew the man had to be scared, but he wasn’t showing it. “What do you want, monster? Are you the Grim... thing?”

“Yeah, I guess. I have called myself the Heavenly Grim. It’s kind of a strange name, I’ll admit. And yes, I wrote the posts on the internet right after Purple Rain.”

“Okay, good for you. So, what do you want?” asked Vincent. “I would ask what kind of monster you are, but that isn’t even the most important question. Why did you sneak into our compound and break my door?”

Jake chuckled. “Your door, my ass. This was a school before. And I didn’t break shit. Your ‘Fudd’ shotgun guy over there did. I just knocked and waved.”

Tom the shotgun guy frowned, so Jake gave him the finger.

The woman with the 1911 frowned. “Grim, or whatever your name is… What the hell did you expect to happen? Do you know what you look like?”

“That really hurts, lady,” Jake said sarcastically. A bit quieter, he conceded, “But it is kind of a good point.” He rasped out a sigh. “Oh well. Whatever. So, you want to know what I want?”

All the people staring at him, some with weapons up, some who looked like they were ready to run away, all nodded.

“Alright, I need an army. You are going to be the first part of that. We are going to have an epic fight against evil tonight. But before we go, I need to go to your armory and stock up on guns, bullets, and some other stuff I might need. So, yeah, some light shopping, then we are going to fight a war.”

Tom blinked and lowered his shotgun. “Go fight a war?”

“Wait, the armory? Are you robbing us?” The tall woman with the 1911 pistol looked like she couldn’t believe her ears. “We are getting robbed by a monster?”

“Not just a monster! The Heavenly Grim!” said the young woman with glasses. Her eyes were wide in fascination. “Just give him what he wants, IMO.”

Jake made a face. “Robbing, borrowing, call it what you want. I didn’t kill this dumb fuck, so think of it as payment.” He used a foot to point at Gary where he whimpered on the ground. “I need to tell you about some things going on, and you are going to help me. Giving me weapons and supplies is part of that.”

“And why should we listen to you about any of this?” said Vincent. Jake noticed that the man had not relaxed at all, and still held his rifle at the ready.

Jake thought for a second. “Two reasons. First, this entire city, maybe even the state is about to be taken over by vampires and you are going to all likely die unless you follow me. Second, I could just take it all anyway if I wanted to. You would not have even known I’d been here. In fact, the only reason I’m talking to you right now is because, for the moment, I think we are on the same side.”

Silence met that proclamation before Tom snarled, “Bullshit! It’s a monster, Vince! Let’s gas him!”

In a patient tone of voice, Vincent said, “Gary is still on the ground. And bullets didn’t work before. What makes you think they’ll work now?”

One of the men in the room who hadn’t spoken yet, one with his rifle aimed at Jake, said, “We should just wait for one of the mages to get here. Maybe magic will work.”

Jake scoffed. “Again, you know I can hear you, right? Besides, it won’t make a difference. And what do you think I’m here for? I could have easily killed all of you by now.”

“Shut up, Monster! You make a move and you’ll have a dozen guns going off in less than a second!” the mustached man shouted.

“I am really beginning to dislike you, mustache guy,” Jake said.

“Oh yeah? What you gonna do about it? You—”

“Ben, shut up,” Vincent said.

“Yeah, shut up, Ben," Jake said. “Vincent, leader guy, you understand my predicament here, right? I really don’t want to hurt you people, but you are not making this easy for me, and I really need to have a talk with you without all the guns pointing at me.”

“Why not talk now?” the tall woman asked.

“Because in a moment, your people are going to get here and start shooting me, and they’re probably going to shoot some of you by accident, and then we will have zero chance of working together.”

“Guys, he’s the Heavenly Grim! You are all threatening to shoot the Heavenly Grim!” The red head stomped. “Some of us are alive because of him!”

“There is no proof of that!” Tom argued.

Vincent narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything else.

It was clear that most of the people Jake could see were all subtly looking at Vincent for guidance. They were freaked out, and probably all only acting as rational and calm as they were because of his presence.

Jake noticed two men in the hallways, hugging the corners and ready to bring their rifles to bear. He heard the sound of running feet getting closer. Voices echoed around the converted school, people forming groups before investigating all the shooting. These people had learned quickly after Purple Rain about group survival, it seemed.

In just a few seconds, he was going to be surrounded by Warhounds, and if he didn’t sway Vincent’s mind before then, he would likely have to kill some of these people. “Pay attention,” he growled. “Everyone, calm down. I am going to show you something.”

Sounds of running feet were getting closer.

With a thought and much less effort than it had taken in Swampland, Jake crafted a Demonic Contradiction Wave. One portion was natural energy, and one was his own. He spent a few more seconds packing in power, filling the containers he’d created with his energy to the brim, putting it under pressure.

He had a clear sightline to the distant trees, so Jake leveled a hand, aimed right over the fence, and fired his attack. The resulting explosion rattled the glass, decimated the foliage at the impact point, and left a new hole in the forest the size of a house.

Branches, dirt, and pieces of shattered tree trunks rained down all over the compound.

The running footsteps were louder. Shouting grew in volume. Lights were coming on from buildings all over the area. Inside the building with Jake, the Warhounds stared at him silently.

Jake narrowed his eyes. “I’m running out of time, which means I’m running out of patience. Are you all going to play nice and listen to me, or do I need to write you off as not useful?” He really didn’t want to kill these people if he could help it. Hopefully, they’d buy his bluff. For dramatic effect, Jake willed his eyes to glow blue, and with a bit of surprise, realized they’d already been glowing a bit.

There were yells from outside and people hollered questions. Some ran toward the explosion. Others ran away. Inside the reception room, about half of the people watching Jake looked ready to bolt.

Finally, Vincent ran a hand over his face. “Okay, fine, you made your point, monster, Grim, or whatever you are.” He turned to his people. “Let’s go along with this for now. He’s bulletproof and can level the place, and I don’t want to move locations.” He gave a lopsided grin. “I also don’t want us all to die.”

“Good decision,” Jake said. “Also, since we’re friends now, you can call me Jake.”

He tried giving them a smile, but the mustache guy recoiled and looked like he was about to faint.

Alright, no smiling, Jake thought. Then he slowly, carefully moved deeper into the building and stood behind the reception desk, allowing Vincent and his people to meet the scared, angry mob that had just arrived outside, looking for answers.

Chapter 31

Vincent Jones felt like his head was splitting in two. He hadn’t had a headache until a couple of hours ago, and this night was the gift that just kept on giving. It could be worse, though. He felt eternally grateful for the nap he’d been able to take earlier in the day.

And at the moment, he was in the Warhounds’ armory—a converted History classroom—and watching a monster grab weapons and make them disappear into thin air.

And the monster, The Grim, was the single most terrifying Vince had seen in his entire life. Vince was staying calm, as if the situation wasn’t freaking him out, but just barely. Almost everyone else following “Jake” around was trembling. Some were probably resisting running away, others had to be forcing their hands away from weapons.

Vince had accepted the damned thing into the base and let him raid the armory because it was obviously the only way to prevent all his people from being wiped out. He’d seriously consider fighting, going all out earlier... before the Grim had just pointed and created an explosion like a goddamn mortar had landed.

Ever since Purple Rain, Vincent had seen some crazy stuff, but nothing like that. He wasn’t the only one who’d understood the implication of what he’d witnessed either. The Grim was bulletproof, could create explosions at will, and was so fast and strong that Awakened Gary had completely failed to even inconvenience him.

And who knew what other abilities the creature had?

The Warhounds outside were ringing the building nervously, and everyone inside was totally on edge. Only a few of the younger Warhounds, like Helen, seemed excited. Vince could hear them.

“I can’t believe The Grim is here!” Helen whispered.

Her friend Patrick responded, “I know, right? It sucks the internet went down for good or we could be like, post-apoc celebrities!”

“We can still take pictures, though. Are you taking pictures? Take pictures!”

“I am, I am! He doesn’t show up right, though. I’m trying!”

Vince tuned them out. He understood that somehow this monster had been posting messages online after Purple Rain, and even sending threatening videos to criminals. That fact in itself was a mindfuck—a monster sending videos on social media.

It was possible that Jake was fighting for good... somehow. The Grim had avoided talking about his past. Maybe someone could ask a question about himself that their visitor might actually answer, but Vince couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It was hard to think clearly when every fiber of his body was screaming at him that he was in proximity to something incredibly dangerous.

And his eyes agreed with his instincts.

The Grim was wearing rags deep-stained with blood and other mysterious substances. He didn’t smell, which was a blessing, but he looked like he should. His body was muscular but gaunt, and he had something like pitch-black smoke rising from his body all the time, kind of like the mist that dry ice created while sitting on a counter. Long claws grew from his pinky fingers, and it looked like he’d cut off his claws on his other digits. A sheathed saber was stuck through his ratty-looking belt.

His teeth were sharp, jagged. Whenever he spoke, he almost looked like he was chewing on the words. He had horns curving back from his forehead over a demonic-looking, but vaguely human face.

But his eyes were the most disturbing part, somehow—like bright, merciless blue points at the bottom of a black void.

The way The Grim had broken Gary Price earlier, like a toy, was still fresh in Vince’s mind. Some of the Warhounds were likely holding on to thoughts of revenge, but thankfully, they weren’t acting on them. Everyone knew how tough Gary was. The man had shot himself a day ago just to show off. He’d scared the hell out of some of the kids nearby in the process.

If Gary hadn’t been such an unlikeable person sometimes, Vince might have cared more that the man had been taken to the Warhounds’ makeshift hospital. The truth was that that last few days, Vince had even wished that someone else a little smarter and more stable had gotten the other man’s incredible awakened ability.

But Gary’s low popularity was probably fortunate. If the Grim had hurt someone everyone actually liked, it was more likely that someone would have done something stupid by now in retaliation. Vince really didn’t want to risk any more incidents. Luckily, everyone was listening to him for the time being.

Vincent had been more or less nominated to lead the Warhounds, the core of whom were buddies from his Army days and some friends from town. He would have never imagined that his experience as a Combat Engineer O3 would lead to a leadership role in the apocalypse. And the pressure would be bad enough without knowing that Maddie and little Roy were holed up in the Warhound family apartments. He couldn’t let anything happen to them—he wouldn’t.

So, for now, he’d play along with this monster, hope the Grim would leave, and also hope that everything the creature had said so far was nonsense. Because the world was bad enough. He didn’t want to imagine anything worse—anything even more terrible for his son to witness.

He just wanted this creature gone, but he was also the leader of these people, so he had to man up and find his spine. Ignoring business wouldn’t be good or anyone.

“Okay,” said Vince. “Let me get this straight... Jake. There are currently people and monsters working to open up a portal to Hell, and if they succeed, the entire state is going to be FUBAR. And the way they are doing this has been human sacrifice?”

The monster shook his horned head. “Not Hell, not the big one, I said ‘a’ hell. There are hell-like dimensions. They suck. You don’t want them here, trust me. And yeah, human sacrifice. Mostly children, probably,” grated Jake in his awful voice. The disturbing visitor was currently looking at a Kel Tec KSG bullpup shotgun. He nodded thoughtfully, and the weapon disappeared along with a few boxes of ammo.

Vince’s mouth was dry and he had to work some saliva onto his tongue before responding. “And who is doing all of this? Don’t get me wrong, the world has gone batshit and monsters aren’t the only problems. We have thieves, rapists, and murderers out there... and other groups that would like to have our base and supplies. But I think we would have noticed if a bunch of demon people were running around doing voodoo rituals and opening portals to hell.”

On the other side of the room, Keith Jackson snickered. A few other Warhounds cracked a smile, overcoming their unease with humor.

But the monster didn’t answer right away. Instead, he theatrically sighed as he examined a 7mm rifle, working the action and looking through the scope. Vince felt a flash of irritation.

Finally, Jake said, “Oh really? You think it’s far-fetched? What if someone had told you a few weeks ago that the world was going to end when a Violet Rain, or Purple Rain turned a bunch of people into monsters and more creatures started showing up to eat people and destroy things? That the world as we know it would end? Could you have imagined a month ago that you would be chatting with anything like me as I shopped your armory? And where do you think all these new monsters are coming from? People turned into zombies and ghouls from Purple Rain, maybe a few other things. But not giants. Where are the giants coming from, Vince?”

Vincent ground his teeth. “We don’t know.”

“Well, I will help you out with that! Free knowledge. There are little portals that open up randomly all over the world now. Sometimes they drop items, or people, or transport people from one place to another on Earth. Rarely, they create a small, stable portal to another world. But most often, they leave behind monsters. And as the years go by, the average monsters will get stronger. Location matters too. There is a dragon in the Colorado Rockies right now.” He grumbled, “Not many people know about that yet, though.”

Nobody in the room was smiling anymore.

“As for who is doing it, I’m pretty sure the Macon Protectors are involved.”

"The Macon Protectors!?" Ben shouted. "Bullshit! They're the good guys! They patrol more than anyone else and help keep the roads clear of monsters! Like, they even run a soup kitchen for hungry people!"

Vince eyed his nephew and wished he'd shut up. Ben had a good heart, but he wasn’t the brightest bulb. The truth was, Vince had actually thought something was off about the Macon Protectors for a day or two. For such a do-gooder group, they never seemed too concerned about the evil shit the Screaming Demons group was doing around town. The Demons had even been murdering people for supplies.

Vince had sent messages to all the other local groups about the Screaming Demons and had gotten silence in return, but the lack of response from the Macon Protectors had been the most notable.

The other Warhounds didn’t all really know about this, though. Vincent glanced around and realized that Ben seemed to be speaking for most of the others. Oh well, let’s see what Jake says, he thought.

"I thought so too at first," Jake said. Now he was making batteries disappear. “But I got a bunch of little clues that Macon isn’t as safe, relatively, as it looks at first glance even before I interrupted a fissure-witch ceremony." He made a face and muttered, “I should have listened to the note my parents left.”

Ben frowned. "Note? A what? Fissure witch?"

"Bad stuff. Don't worry about it. Anyway, I’m mostly sure we can start with the Macon Protectors. See where the trail leads. There is no way these yahoos are attempting what they’re trying to do at the sort of scale they would need without organization. Some backing."

Ben seemed even more offended. "Hey, Jake! Monster! You aren’t listening to me! The Macon Protectors even take in people with no home, no hope! They find people on the run, rescue them on the road, and bring them to safety!"

"Let me guess, safety is in their territory, maybe behind fences or in a big building downtown, and none of the refugees are ever seen again, right?"

"Well... I actually witnessed the Protectors help an entire family, a mother, older son and two little kids! They gave them food and everything!"

"Did you ever see them again?" Jake asked. “The family?”

"How could I? I have stuff to do and they went into the Macon Protectors AO…" Ben’s voice trailed off. He must have realized that he was not doing a great job of disproving anything Jake had suggested.

"Think about it," Jake said. "If you needed a bunch of human sacrifice in an area, which would be easier: fighting everyone or acting like the good-guy-hall-monitors? If everyone thinks you are the ‘good guys,’ you get a free pass. Everyone leaves you alone. Hell, they might bring your prey right to you so you can make them disappear! Nobody would ever question why you’d be carting around groups of random people. And if you have a secret deal with the openly murderous group in the area, you can even secretly help them keep pressure on everyone else so they don’t ask too many questions."

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Grim?" Helen asked. She chewed her lower lip. “The deal part?”

Jake shrugged. "I bet you all have problems with the Screaming Demons group. Have you heard of them hitting the Macon Protectors? Ever? Probably not. And think about that. The Protectors are always driving around, looking for monsters... or people, right?" The way Jake had said “people” was sinister. "Wouldn’t they be the best ambush targets for gear-hungry psychos? But the Screaming Demons go after houses instead, even defended ones? That doesn’t make much sense if you think about it. I’ve seen the Protectors driving around at night. They have pretty advanced magic too. Good gear. Where did they come from? Where did they get all of that gear and the money? The Post Apoc Kings are all the rich people in town who aren’t hiding, right? So who the hell are the Macon Protectors?"

Ben started to say, “But they—”

Jake chuckled darkly. "’Macon Protectors’ my ass. Those assholes almost pulled it off, and you all didn't suspect a thing." He turned, directing his terrifying, glowing gaze directly at Ben. "Was it because they have ‘Protectors’ in the group name? Maybe they wear nice clothes? Has everyone already forgotten that some of the most crooked people in the world before Purple Rain dressed really nice?” Jake tsked.

Vincent coughed and folded his arms. He had to admit that The Grim was making a lot of sense, but he didn’t like how everyone else was taking it. Beyond that, he didn’t like how the Warhounds were getting caught up in all of this. "So you expect us to just accept all of this? With no proof? From a monster that is literally robbing us right now and that broke one of our best fighters?"

"Hell no," Jake said. “I expect you to go with me because I’m way stronger than you and I’m threatening you to do it. I am bullying you with force, not pretending otherwise. And when we get to the good ol’ Macon Protectors’ stomping grounds, I’ll prove to you that you should fight with me. If the evidence isn’t there, if I’m wrong, I’ll slink off in shame and you’ll never see me again. You won’t have lost anything other than a few gallons of gas and some time.”

Only about half of the Warhounds in the armory had seen The Grim first enter the building. Cathie was one of them. She wasn’t holding her 1911 anymore; she had it holstered, and she’d gotten a coat somewhere. Vincent was glad she’d come along. Cathie was one of the smartest people in the entire Warhounds group.

She addressed Jake squarely, without a hint of fear. “Won’t lose anything? What about weapons? And if we go with you, our base will be undefended, won’t it?”

“It’s not an issue,” said Jake. “I’m not a monster.” He laughed at his own joke. Then he said levelly, “There are families here that need protection. You need to leave people behind to guard your base. But as for the other groups around Macon, they won’t be a problem.”

“Why?” asked Vincent.

“Because they’re going to come with us.”

Cathie blinked rapidly and shook her head. “Beg pardon?”

“After this, I think we should roll out and go pay our buddies the Post Apoc Kings a visit,” said Jake. He held up a pistol and said, “This is a CZ Shadow 2. Why in the hell do you have a pistol this nice in a classroom armory instead of being carried? Oh well.” The pistol vanished.

Cathie shook her head. “Pay the Post Apoc Kings a visit!?”

Vincent’s headache got worse.

* * *

Before leaving the Warhounds’ base, Jake had asked where all the Macon-based groups were located. Then he’d nodded like he’d known all along. Now the Warhounds’ convoy was getting closer to the Post Apoc Kings base, an upper middle-class residential area surrounded by a makeshift barrier of vehicles.

Vincent was driving a Jeep. Jake was in the passenger seat. In the middle of the convoy, one of the Warhounds with a powerful sound system was blasting “Love Shack,” playing music like Jake had instructed. The Grim kept insisting they would eventually be fighting vampires, and claimed that for the inexperienced, unmagical, or unawakened, the things could mess with people’s minds. Music was supposed to help.

For Vincent, it was just one more weird thing to accept while he traveled around with the talking nightmare that was somehow becoming even more scary over time.

The area near Macon didn’t have many monsters, mostly thanks to the efforts of the Macon Protectors, but the odd zombie shuffled toward the convoy, attracted by all the noise. Whenever that happened, the convoy slowed down, and one of the Warhounds packing a .22lr rifle with a silencer would shoot until they got a headshot.

“We are getting close now, right?” Jake asked.

“I think so, yeah,” Vincent said. He kept his eyes fixed on the road. All the lights of the convoy lit up the night, which was comforting, but also illuminated The Grim in an unsettling way. The Jeep’s top was down, and the windows were rolled down too. This helped Vincent communicate with the Warhounds on motorcycles that took orders back to the rear.

Last month, I was selling AC units, he thought. Now I’m a Mad Max leader with my monster boss riding shotgun. He had to stifle a laugh.

Suddenly, Jake held up a hand. “Stop the convoy.”

Vince didn’t even ask why. He just slowly applied the brakes, and all the other vehicles followed his lead. Now the music from the middle of the convoy had changed to “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Before the jeep had even stopped moving, Jake jumped out.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Jake just waved at him and walked forward. All the lights from the caravan illuminated the stretch of road completely. The forest at the side of the street looked ominous, full of shadows, but Vince didn’t see anything dangerous.

The radio crackled and Tom, one of the other Warhounds leaders asked, “What is he doing, Boss?”

“Hell if I know.”

Jake headed straight for a driveway at the side of the road. As usual, when it wasn’t swirling around or grabbing things, the monster’s weird cape undulated like it was underwater. The effect was disturbing under good, indoor lighting, but outside like this, illuminated by headlights, the effect was nightmarish.

Vince would bet that someone in the convoy was aiming at Jake. Probably a few people. He prayed to Jesus that nobody would be dumb enough to take a shot. Please don’t be stupid, he hoped. Just be patient until The Grim gets bored and leaves.

In the light of all the vehicles, Jake veered to one side of the driveway he’d looked like he’d been approaching. He stepped into the deep ditch by the side of the road. After he waved a hand, a .22 rifle with a silencer attached appeared from nowhere. Vince recognized the weapon as one the Grim had taken from the Warhounds’ armory.

Jake aimed at the large culvert under the driveway and rattled off three shots.

A hiss and a scream came from the dark under the driveway before a ghoul surged out of it. The monster shrieked as it leapt at Jake, but the Grim didn’t seem surprised. He just tossed his rifle to the side.

Then Jake moved so fast, he seemed to turn into a smoky blur. One moment he’d been standing in a ditch with a ghoul jumping at him, and the next he was gripping the creature by the throat and slamming it into the road. The ghoul rolled away, hissing and coughing.

Jake was on it a second later. The ghoul clawed at him savagely, but Jake caught its wrist in one hand and savagely kicked it in the ribs. With a sharp cracking sound, the monster’s entire body left the ground. Jake savagely punched the creature in the head, caving in half its skull. When he drew his hand back from the strike, he slashed its throat with the single claw on his pinky. Dark blood was all over the road.

As the ghoul gurgled and thrashed on the ground, Jake wrenched its arm around in a circle as he stood. He strained for a moment, his foot on his dying enemy’s chest and actually managed to tear the arm off before throwing it aside.

Vince’s blood ran cold. Ghouls were incredibly dangerous—tough and strong—but Jake had just destroyed one like a cat torturing a mouse.

The Grim bent down for a second. He looked like he was sucking in air or something. Then he straightened and collected the rifle that he’d thrown aside.

A moment later, he vanished before reappearing back near the jeep. Vince’s heart just about burst from his chest. Did the damn thing just teleport?!

“Sorry about the stop, but I wanted to test my strength. Needed to eat too. You all should stay here for a while, okay?”

“Stay here?” Vincent asked robotically. He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. He was recalculating how strong The Grim was. Jake could have dismantled Gary as easily as he’d just dismembered the ghoul. He hadn’t even used a weapon other than the rifle, but that was just to scare the monster out of the culvert. The single punch he’d delivered had probably been enough to kill it, but Jake had those claws too…

“Yes. It might complicate things if you all roll up to the Post Apoc Kings base right now. Wait here for about an hour, then come meet me there. It’s about a mile and a half away now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Stay here.”

Then without another word, Jake turned, his disturbing cape flapping behind him...and vanished into the night again. Literally vanished. One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t.

Tom’s voice came over the radio again. “Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell just happened?”

Vincent ran a trembling hand over his face. “The Grim just had a snack, I think. And we are supposed to wait here for an hour.”

There were a few moments of silence before Tom responded, “And we’re gonna do that?”

“Tom, he knows where we live.” Vince let go of the talk button and chuckled. Then he keyed the mic again. “Yeah, we’re gonna wait. And let’s hope Jake stays on our side.”

From behind him in the Warhounds’ caravan, a new song was playing—a James Brown song, “Night Train.” When Tom finally answered, he just said: “yeah. Okay. I’ll tell the crew.”

A few minutes later, Vince heard the sound of gunshots from the general direction of the Post Apoc Kings. And even though the Kings had shown up at the Warhounds’ base making threats and demands earlier that night, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.

Only minutes later, he heard the rattle of distant gunshots, maybe an explosion, and figured that Jake had found the Post Apoc Kings.

* * *

About an hour later, Vince led the Warhounds to the Post Apoc Kings’ base, and the Kings were already outside, in vehicles, apparently waiting for them.

The Grim was standing on the road, his blue eyes blazing in the darkness. Vince slowed to a stop when Jake waved him down.

“You are going to link up with the Post Apoc Kings now,” said Jake. “They’ll follow you. I’m going to head to the Night Rangers next. It’s kind of on the other side of town, but I can cut through the woods. It’ll be quicker. Take your time getting there, maybe another hour. Then if the Rangers are gonna join, they’ll link up and we will head to town. We should be ready right before dawn, which is probably for the best. You guys can’t see in the dark.”

“So, the Kings are coming with us? Just like that?” asked Vince.

“What do you mean?” Jake cocked his head quizzically, and the effect was disturbing. His horns reflected the moonlight.

“How did you convince them?”

“Same way I did with you,” Jake said. He made his ghastly, sharp-toothed smile. “I proved that if I wanted to, I could kill them all, and asked them to follow me until I either prove my point or I run away in shame.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Good. So, like I said, head to the Night Rangers base. I’ll meet you there.” Jake waved a hand and vanished into the night like a ghost.

Vince swallowed. He didn’t even react when a stony-faced Post Apoc King on a motorcycle tossed a radio on the passenger seat of his jeep before speeding off to the Kings’ formation. They’d be following the Warhounds.

After the entire procession was slowly moving again, the radio crackled to life. “Vince, this is Sam.”

He was actually calling him on the radio. That was rich. Sam Mowat was the leader of the Post Apoc Kings, the man who’d approached the Warhounds base demanding that they let him into their compound to poke around.

Vince’s headache was slowly starting to get better after he’d taken some pills earlier. Thank God. He picked up the radio. “This is Vince. Go ahead.”

“Vince, so... we are following a monster now.”

“Yup. Seems like it. The internet people call him Heavenly Grim.”

“I know that,” said Sam. He sounded frustrated, but also fascinated, and maybe a little scared. “But what is he? Like, there is no way that is a normal monster. Is he a demon or an angel?”

“Maybe he’s nothing like that,” said Vince. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “But I am getting a really, really bad feeling that everything he’s been saying about stuff going on in town might be true.”

“Me too.”

After thinking a moment, Vince rekeyed the mic. “So what now? You guys are coming with us?”

“We don’t really have much of a choice. This was all sudden. Some of the guys are convinced we’re all heading for an ambush. But if The Grim is right, that there are vampires and other shit out there fixin’ to take over the area, we gotta be ready for it.”

“I agree, but what do you mean?” Vince frowned.

“What I mean is that we should bury the hatchet until all this shit is done,” Sam said.

“Bury the hatchet? The way I see it, that’s not my call. We weren’t the ones making threats, and we haven’t done anything wrong. So what hatchet is there to bury? Unless maybe you mean that you guys are going to stop making accusations without proof. Is that it?”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” grated Sam.

“Yeah, well, I am painfully aware that I almost got shot earlier tonight for something my group didn’t even do! Then I met our ghoul-eating friend, Heavenly Grim. Excuse me for being grumpy.”

The mic clicked a few times as Sam kept depressing the talk button and not saying anything. When he finally spoke, it sounded like his speaking volume was a bit lower. “Uh, about that. You can probably understand why I thought the way I did. When we went to your base. People have been murdered in my territory, man. Bad business. But, uh, I guess I might owe you an apology.”

Vince chuckled. “You think?” He didn’t say anything else for a while, just focused on driving forward at a crawl, giving the Grim enough time to do... whatever he was doing. At this point, he wasn’t going to be surprised if they showed up and all the Night Rangers had formed a neat line, ready to go to war with a smile. Sure, the more the merrier, he thought sardonically.

At least the other groups weren’t all complete strangers. Since Vince had been in sales before Purple Rain and had gone to High School in Macon, he was sure to see familiar faces in every other group.

He reflected for a moment on how weird this entire situation was. His thoughts kept returning to what Jake said would happen to Macon, and maybe the rest of Georgia. Hell on Earth. If it’d just been Macon under some sort of doom prophecy, Vince would have been tempted to take his family and try escaping, or maybe even take all the Warhounds with him. But it was a dangerous world, and the farther someone traveled now, the worse chance they had of actually reaching their destination. Trying to leave the state right now would be... bad.

Vince also had to concede that Jake had probably been telling the truth about portals. He was self-aware enough to admit it made no sense to be skeptical of portals to another world when he’d already witnessed Purple Rain and was currently leading a convoy of armed local men to a battle with possible vampires.

Jake’s claims of the Macon Protectors being rotten weren’t that hard for Vince to accept, but the other stuff was tough. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe. Either way, the convoy was still blasting music. Someone was playing country now, this time something by Alan Jackson.

The radio was heavy in his hand as he thoughtfully tapped it against his thigh. It was actually nice to be in the jeep by himself now. It helped him think. Vince had experience dealing with large groups of people, but he would always feel most comfortable while alone with his thoughts.

He kept his speed slow and the entire convoy followed him, killing the occasional monster, basically making a racket. When he drove past a group of houses, he wondered if any of them had people hiding inside. Everyone who was still lying low might have the right idea, who knew? But Vince could imagine that any folks hiding were probably scared shitless as the Warhounds and Post Apoc Kings passed. Dozens of armed men in vehicles crawling along at ten miles an hour, blasting music. It was like something out of a cheesy movie.

Being responsible, or feeling responsible for the lives of survivors still in their homes would be a huge burden. Vince felt a wave of relief that the Warhounds had claimed the school, a location big and secure enough to protect everyone’s family. He realized that he’d stumbled across some fresh sympathy for Sam’s situation.

But Sam had still threatened the Warhounds earlier.

Vince had a sudden thought. His eyes gleamed as he keyed the radio. “Hey, Sam?”

“Go ahead.”

With a grin, Vince asked, “The Grim. Did he rob you guys too?”

“Robbed?” Sam’s voice sounded strained. “Fuck. Yes. So it wasn’t just us, huh? He took a bunch of gas, some weapons, bullets, and other things from the stores.”

“Gas?”

“He made a few hundred gallons vanish,” Sam grumbled. “This was after he blew up a truck, beat up one of my best fighters, and scared the hell out of us, telling us that Macon is going to get sucked into hell.”

Vince did a double take. “Wait, the Grim blew up your vehicle and also stole your gas?” He began to laugh.

“Well...yeah. There wasn’t anything we could do. He obviously took shit from you too, or you wouldn’t be asking.” Sam’s voice was definitely sour. When the Kings’ leader spoke again, he sounded a bit hesitant. “So, Vince, do you believe all of this vampire stuff, or are you just playing along?”

Overhead, the stars twinkled like nothing of any note was happening on Earth. If he looked up, Vince could almost imagine that nothing had changed. But it had. He had responsibilities now, again, and he was not the type of person to run away from reality anyway, much less when people were counting on him.

Vince held the radio up. “Honestly, I’m still not sure yet,” he said in a grave tone, “but I don’t think we can afford not to take everything Grim has said seriously. At least until we find out for sure it’s bullshit.”

Sam sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Chapter 32

Okay, this is it, Jake thought. He was standing on the roof of a pizza chain restaurant, watching the mall. It was still dark, early in the morning, but the parking lots around the mall had a flurry of activity.

The Macon Protectors’ base of operations was the Macon Mall.

They’d pushed all the cars to the edge of the parking lot and across some of the access drives, making an impromptu fence. Campfires and tents were scattered around the cleared asphalt, likely survivors that had been allowed to stay.

Jake carefully watched the activity of the Protectors and silently whistled. There were hundreds of them. Now he had confirmation that the Macon Protectors were by far the largest and best equipped group in the entire area. None of the other armed groups had seen them as a threat, so they might not have even done a count.

And using his life-sensing ability, Jake was able to notice some other really strange things too.

But first things first, he needed to check the inside of the mall. This fact-finding mission was not just to prove to the groups he’d recruited that his theories were correct, it was also for his own benefit. He had a feeling that if he uncovered the truth, he might find the assholes who’d killed his family.

He was going to take them apart.

Jake hopped down to the parking lot and willed his Deep Heavens Solstice Midnight Cloak to transform back to a regular-looking cloak. Then he bent his back as if he were exhausted and carried the prop he’d found earlier: a cloth bag filled with canned goods.

Now he looked like any other scavenger. The Protectors might even assume he was from the tent city in the mall parking lot.

He spared a glance back where he’d come from, and listened for the music that that combined groups were still playing. Nothing. Good. They’d turned it down for now, so even with Jake’s enhanced senses, he couldn’t hear anything. He had a radio in one pocket to call them in when it was time to get the party started.

Night Rangers, Warhounds, and Post Apoc Kings—the groups had separated to wait, which was fine. They were all about half a mile away. Jake decided to think of them as the Liberators, the Macon Liberators versus the Macon Protectors. Too bad it was probably going to be a bloodbath.

There was a checkpoint to get into the actual parking lot of the mall. It wasn’t an option for him to pass through that way. Maybe if he were still human. It looked like they were checking for weapons and looking at faces.

Jake wandered around until he was hidden from view and phased, then flash-stepped behind a porta-potty inside the tent city.

Once he was inside, he wandered around like he was on drugs, or maybe going through withdrawals. The tent city didn’t have many junkies but it look like there might be a few.

The tent city looked sort of like homeless or refugee camps before Purple Rain. There were burn barrels here and there where a few people were cooking things, but most of the people were in their tents, sleeping. Jake could sense them. How many of these people came here willingly, Jake thought. Probably a lot.

An authority figure offering food and shelter likely wouldn’t get much pushback, especially from desperate people.

He kept a careful eye on all of the Protectors, noting their movements, the gear the guards were using, and any other information he could file away. Of course, his eyes and ears weren’t the only senses he had now, and a scan of the area now would be more useful now that he was closer. Jake had been able to sense a large area in Swampland because of how simple that area was. But in Macon, there was too much data. Jake needed to get closer before really understanding what he was “seeing.”

The inside of the mall seemed to be split into sections. Jake could sense an area full of strong life signs, maybe a barracks for the Protectors. Other areas were more sparsely populated. He couldn’t be sure what was going on without taking a look, so he made sure nobody was paying attention, moved behind a dumpster, then phased into the mall.

Jake returned to regular space-time in a ladies clothing store, one of the chains that was in almost every mall in the pre-Purple Rain United States. He stayed absolutely still for a moment, making sure he hadn’t tripped any magical alarms or been noticed in some other way. After he waited long enough to tell the coast was clear, he began moving away from what he thought was the barracks area toward other parts of the mall.

It took him a while to figure out the layout of the place since Protectors were wandering everywhere and had to be avoided, but Jake used the dim lighting to his advantage. All the lanterns scattered around offered pools of light, but the mall was a large space, and human eyes didn’t work too well transitioning between light and dark. It also helped that Jake could command his cloak to cover him from head to toe as he hid at times.

His supernatural senses also helped. There was practically no chance of anyone catching him off guard, not while he was actively using his sense like this.

Eventually, Jake verified that one department store was being used as a makeshift barracks for the Protectors. Another department store was full of cots and was functioning as a refugee rehabilitation center. Some adjacent stores were being used as hospitals.

He’d overheard some of the refugees saying that there were other accommodations for people across the street to the north. The Protectors were using a strip mall there as another camp. He also learned that some of the people in the tent city outside had chosen to stay there instead of going to the strip mall because with no AC, staying indoors could get hot.

Maybe the Protectors taking over the area had been part of why his parents had moved. Some of the people in the parking lot had been rounded up by the Protectors from their homes, apparently for “safety.”

While they were doing whatever they did, they could have easily switched uniforms, or said they were from any organization. He remembered the ”Warhounds” that had attacked the Andersons’ house.

But the way the Protectors had laid out the mall didn’t make a lot of sense.

From Jake’s perspective, the entire operation seemed extremely inefficient. Of course, that was only if the end goal was to actually help people. If the aim was to just create an excuse to concentrate people together, that was another matter.

He remembered when the Grasshopper Mice had died in his first life, when he’d been transported to Ahriman’s domain. He shuddered.

Maybe the situation was similar here. But instead of laying bait, the forces of evil were... farming.

Jake moved to the other end of the mall where there were fewer life signs and some conflicting energy signals. He noiselessly ghosted through the hallway, hugging one side, and darting into the empty stores to avoid patrols. He noted the piles of plywood and other building materials that had been used to board up most of the entrances and reinforce windows.

It was a lot of building materials. Some of it could be explained by the nearby building supply store, but not all of it.

How the hell did they do all of this so fast? Jake thought. What he was currently seeing seemed to validate his theory that the Protectors had somehow known that Purple Rain was going to happen.

In fact, maybe these same assholes had brought the vampires to Mexico in Jake’s first life. Such a thing had always been denied by the government and the Company, but it just didn’t make sense for the forces of the dark to be so organized a week after Purple Rain if they hadn’t been waiting for it.

He could hear a generator outside somewhere. It was faint, barely a buzz even to Jake’s enhanced hearing.

Eventually, Jake reached the end of the hallway. What had been a department store looked like a fortress now. The storefront facing the inside of the mall was just like the outside of the mall now—all boarded up and reinforced.

He heard distant voices. The guards were usually silent as they walked around. This was new. Jake jumped up to the second level of the mall with hardly a rustle and hunkered down to watch.

A group of three people—two buzz-cut men and a pinched-faced woman dressed in Protector uniforms—approached with a gurney, wheeling an elderly woman down the hall. She was muttering to herself, sweating, and in obvious pain. One of the men, a big, hulking brute, looked around first before casually punching her in the face. The old woman began to wheeze as she tried to cry out, but the blow had been sudden and savage. None of the other people in the little group said anything about the abuse.

The three Protectors unlocked a door and disappeared into the area beyond the newly built barrier.

Jake watched where the group had gone and thought about using his radio for a moment, but dismissed the idea. He still didn’t know anything for sure. What he needed was proof. There had to be some very serious evidence of something terrible happening before he could call in the cavalry. That was the deal.

He phased and moved into the barricaded building beyond, finding a good hiding space to materialize in a closet. Closets were apparently becoming his safe place of choice when he came out of a phase.

The building beyond had been converted to some sort of twisted medical—or maybe butchering—facility. Scents of blood and offal practically filled in the air. Kiddie pools with dried blood on the bottom were scattered around. One side of what used to be the department store had white plastic sheets hung from floor stands, making something like hanging walls. If not for the grim debris on the floor, the filth, and casually discarded personal effects littering the floor, the makeshift plastic rooms might have looked like a field hospital.

Jake could smell fresh blood.

He did a quick scan of the area and frowned. Evidence would suggest that this building normally had at least a dozen people working, doing whatever evil shit they did. Based on prior experience, Jake was fairly certain the place was used to drain people of blood. He reasoned it was probably easier to move around containers of blood than people. But then he thought about how they’d have to move the bodies anyway. That didn’t make sense.

There just wasn’t enough information.

The area beyond the hanging plastic walls was lit up, and Jake could hear a low moan that stopped after a striking sound rang out. Most of the light was being cast by a lamp hung overhead, suspended by an ugly-looking yellow cord. Jake realized that most of the building was dark except for this light. Since he could see so well in the dark now, sometimes he forgot that normal people couldn’t.

When he got closer, he could hear soft talking.

“—in the ass. Have to wake up just because this old bat decided it was time to die at fucking 4am.”

“Well, let’s just get this over with so we can go back to bed. We can start tomorrow later. Gistino said so.”

“How is her heartbeat?”

“She’s still alive. Keep draining.” This was the woman’s voice.

“Tell me the second she dies or we’ll hear a fucking earful. I kinda wish she’d just hurry up and fucking croak.”

“No way. We need to do a good job.

“I know, but it’s not our fault if she buys the farm and lets us get done with this faster.”

The woman spoke again. “The flow is starting to slow. We might need the other arm too.”

“This stupid bitch,” muttered one of the men. There was a sound of a body being punched. “Pain in the ass even now.”

Now that he was listening for it, Jake could hear the sound of dripping liquid. The smell of blood was even thicker in the air. He jumped to the department store wall, right over the makeshift plastic sheets, and was in the midst of the Protectors a heartbeat later.

There was some sort of slat system against the wall, maybe part of the store before Purple Rain. The old woman Jake had seen earlier had been tied up against the wall upside down with zip ties. She was gagged and barely conscious, her eyes rolling in her head. One of her arms was tied to one side. The other was lashed to the wall, fully stretched out, pointed at the ground.

Her hand had been cut off at the wrist. The severed hand was about ten feet away in a plastic bucket.

Below the severed hand, a steady stream of blood was hitting a funnel that fed it into a large, empty five-gallon water container, the kind used in office water coolers.

The Protector woman had a stethoscope to the dying woman’s chest. Like her male counterparts, she wore a white lab coat over dirty clothes. Her expression was bored and disinterested as she intimately listened to her victim die.

The three torturers hadn’t even noticed Jake’s presence before he’d torn out the big man’s throat with his teeth. Jake didn’t really have a plan yet, but maybe killing people in the building like a monster might cause more confusion or even panic later. He had a half-formed idea of confusing the Protectors. Maybe they’d freak out and lead him to whatever vampires they might have stashed away somewhere. It was a little fuzzy, but he hadn’t had time to do much thinking before having a mouth full of blood. There was no way he could have just sat around and done nothing, listening to some asshole punch a defenseless old lady.

The scene was bad. Jake had seen some terrible things in his life. The casual, clinical nature of what was being done here was definitely up there.

What he’d just found would definitely be enough to convince the three Liberator groups that he wasn’t lying. Unfortunately, how to get them in here to see the grisly scene was another problem entirely. If the internet and phone service still existed, maybe he could have done a two-way video call.

That would have been convenient.

The Protector woman’s eyes widened in fear. She cursed and began to draw a pistol. But before she’d even cleared leather, Jake crushed her wrist with his full strength and slammed his other hand, palm first into her nose. The woman would have reeled back, but Jake pulled her forward and tore out her throat with his teeth too.

She fell to the ground, still trying to access her pistol with her good hand. Her eyes were full of pain and spite. Jake held her gaze as he used his full strength to crush her sternum. Then he turned and punched the big man he’d already bitten in the head, knocking him unconscious so he’d bleed out more quietly.

Jake shook his head sadly as he regarded the victim on the wall. She was close to death. He drew a knife from his storage ring and stabbed her through the heart as a mercy. Then he said a brief prayer for her in his mind, and felt a sense of relief that doing so didn’t burn him or make him catch on fire.

Sometimes the little things were the most precious.

He stood still and silently regarded the last Protector, a man he’d caught in the act of murdering and draining a helpless refugee. The survivor was thin and lanky. His goatee was wispy, more of a wannabe soul patch. He reeked of cigarettes and marijuana. His shoulder-length hair looked greasy, dirty.

Jake had encountered a few people like this in his first life: followers of the dark. He knew what kinds of people they often were and what motivated them, what kinds of promises they might have gotten. And now Jake was aware of the divine conflict—the great game. Eternal Conflict.

Threatening this man for information would have unpredictable results, but maybe there was a better way.

"You. Human. I have need of information. Give me what I desire and I will spare your life and reward you with power. I have need of servants, so I have spared your life for now. You have potential, I can feel it."

The man's head came up slowly. He was obviously terrified as he glanced furtively at Jake. There was a moment of silence.

Jake thought he might have been laying it on a little thick with the evil monster act, or maybe the obvious and obviously bullshit flattery. But luckily, curiosity and greed replaced some of the fear in Goatee-guy’s cowardly expression.

"May I humbly ask your identity, Lord?"

Interesting, Jake thought. He was riding some righteous anger at seeing what had happened to the poor woman on the wall, but he had stumbled onto an opportunity. This man was a piece of garbage, the type to want to become a fissure witch. He obviously didn’t care about his dead, murderer associates, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Jake could tell the man had already made the decision to spare his own life however he could, and was already trying to curry favor, ready to jump ship.

People like this made Jake sick. At least real cultists had some sort of conviction. But people like Goatee-guy didn’t even actually stand for anything. They were like leeches—selfish and empty.

“You may call me Darken,” Jake said. He reflected that talking monsters didn’t actually grow on trees, so he could say whatever he wanted. His very existence made whatever he said seem legit. “I am the avatar of the god, Greedo. The mighty power of the Dark Lord Greedo inhabits this body. Bow low and show your respect or be destroyed!”

Internally, Jake winced. He could run a bluff if he had to, but his little performance now wasn’t going to win any awards. Luckily, his act was working and the man immediately prostrated himself.

“Oh great Darken, host of the mighty Greedo, I greet you and I submit!”

This guy has obviously had some experience dealing with the megalomaniac evil-types, huh? Jake thought.

Darken was a character from a novel he’d read once, and Greedo was a Star Wars character, most definitely not a god. The ex-Protector seemed to be buying it all hook, line, and sinker, though, and seemed sincere. Jake’s first impression must have been profound. He almost asked for Goatee-guy’s name, but realized at the last second that the evil god types wouldn’t care.

Instead, he growled, “Servant, I am at war with Tlaloc. Do you understand that you have been serving my enemy?”

“Yes, oh great Darken! I was promised many things by the priest of the dark rain god and his avatar. But I have seen your greatness! Please bless this lowly servant with knowledge of your power!”

Jake blinked. Is this really how these people talk? How weird. He understood the hidden meaning in Goatee-guy’s request. This leech wanted to know what Jake was going to give him for betraying his first dark master.

Fair enough. Time to build some bullshit.

“All of my servants will receive the eternal bite and will become like me. Fast, strong, and one with the shadows! Greedo’s magical power is shared with my servants! Power to rule over all other humans in this changed world. To prove your loyalty and earn this honor, you will tell me about your mission here for my enemy. You will spare no detail! Do you understand, servant?”

“Oh yes, Great Darken! I will serve and obey!”

For the next half hour, Jake listened while Goatee-guy spilled his guts. He asked a few questions, but it was mostly unnecessary. Goatee-guy basically told his life story, and Jake learned that he’d been working for evil mostly for free. His rewards had been protection from the Purple Rain world, being part of a winning team, and a hope of one day being selected to become a fissure witch or a vampire. The guy was not very highly placed in the organization.

He volunteered his name—Alex—and even explained how he’d joined his organization.

Jake worked to keep his face still, his expression vaguely menacing, but his guts churned. What he was hearing was unreal.

Alex had been approached to be a follower of evil on the internet, way before Purple Rain. Someone or something had definitely known that it was going to happen, and even when. Right down to the minute.

He’d been recruited, invited to a camp, paid, and slowly brought on board.

Jake would have been impressed by the process if he hadn’t been hearing about evangelical evil. This information confirmed that people had known about Purple Rain before it happened too. In his first life, the official word around the world had been that the world ending had been a surprise for everyone. But Jake wasn’t naive enough to think that the leaders of post-Purple Rain America hadn’t known the truth if he was finding out now.

So why had they lied?

Once Alex finally got done telling Jake everything he wanted to know, he said, “Well done, servant. Are you prepared for your reward?”

“Yes! Yes, Great Master Darken!”

“Close your eyes.” After the man had closed his eyes, Jake drew his sword and cut the man’s head off. He turned his back on the corpse and didn’t feel an ounce of pity.

The entire makeshift medical area was already drenched with blood from Alex’s two associates. Now the bottoms of the makeshift plastic walls were stained red. Jake was covered in blood too. He didn’t care. Killing people with his teeth hadn’t bothered him either. Maybe his new form was changing his perception. That was a disquieting thought. But still, at least he hadn’t felt the need to bite Alex.

His half-assed plan from earlier was no longer an issue anymore. What he’d just learned made speed more important than stealth now.

Jake turned on his radio. He’d kept it off earlier so it wouldn’t make any noise and give away his position. After thumbing it on, he hit the talk button. “Vincent, do you hear me?”

It didn’t take long to hear a response. “Yes. How’s it going at the mall, Mr. Grim?”

“Not good. I interrupted a murder and blood-draining, and found out most of what the Macon Protectors have been doing. They are all cultists. Some of the worst. But most importantly, they’re keeping most of the vampires they’ve been sneaking through portals at the college across the street to the south. If those things get out and start a rampage, it will be bad.”

There was a pause. “Oh. That’s a little surprising... but only a little.”

Jake frowned. “What?”

“Well, no offense Jake... Mr. Grim, Heavenly Grim... but I didn’t entirely trust you. So, while you were getting into the mall, the Warhounds did some poking around.”

“You didn’t stay where you said you were going to stay?”

“Nope!” Vince’s tone was completely unapologetic. “We borrowed some of the electric motorcycles from the Post Apoc Kings too. I don’t know why they had so many, but the damn things are amazing. They’re almost silent. Charging them back up might be an issue, but it’s not my problem. So anyway, we already scouted around the mall. Left the music-playing trucks back at the waiting spot. And at the college and saw bodies being taken out the back.”

“You what!?”

“We actually caught them doing it in the residential neighborhood through the trees from the college. Suspicious activity. We caught some of them red-handed while they were working to get rid of bodies. They talked fast. The bodies were taken through the trees, put in panel trucks, and driven off to be dumped, far enough not to attract more zombies to Macon.

“After that, we killed those guys. Obviously. Then we checked out the college, and lo and behold, we actually caught sight of the people the Post Apoc Kings had a shootout with before accusing us of it! The fire mage and the strong man. We’re pretty sure they are part of the Screaming Demons now.”

“Vince, don’t do anything. You need to stay put until I can join up with you again.”

Vince didn’t seem to hear him. His voice was haunted as he said, “The bodies were bad.” He coughed. “Really bad. And my group’s mage can feel monsters in the college campus. A lot of them.” His voice grew grim. “These people are most definitely some evil fucks... so we are about to light them up.”

Most of Jake’s brain focused on the part about the two people Vincent said he’d ID’ed. The people involved in Jake’s family being murdered. His palms started to tingle in anticipation, but he also began getting a bad feeling.

Through the radio, Jake could hear the sound of engines. Then a whispered: “Hey, Vince, they’re here. Music’s muted right now.”

“The Post Apoc Kings are with us,” Vince said. “They owed us. The Night Rangers are coming around the back way. As soon as the rest of the convoy gets here, we’re gonna hit this place. But don’t worry, you were obviously right about the Protectors, so we’re not ignoring what you said about the music. We’re not doing anything until the rest of the convoy gets here first. And then we’re gonna hit the entire place with everything we got.”

“Wait!” Jake hissed. “Wait for me to get there before you do anything! You don’t know what you’re getting into! They have some powerful help!”

“No. I know you can destroy us all, but listen here, Jake.” Vince’s voice was firm, resolute. With dawning horror, Jake realized that the Warhounds’ leader had already decided to start a fight. “The bodies... like I said, they were bad. Some were kids. One was my son’s age. There are some things, if you see and walk away from, you can’t call yourself a man again. No, a human being.” His voice choked up, and in the background of the radio, Jake thought he could hear music. “So you—”

The transmission was suddenly full of popping sounds that Jake recognized as gunfire. He listened carefully, and thought he might have heard something outside of the building he was in too. Yes. The tent city outside could probably hear the shots and were growing alarmed. The radio cut off.

“Hello! Hello! What’s going on?” Jake snarled.

There was no reply.

“Dammit!” he cursed.

He paced for a moment, trying to decide what to do. One of the pieces of information he’d gotten from Goatee-guy Alex had been about their leader, Trosist. The leader of this merry band of cultists was very, very dangerous. Alex had only seen him once, and basically described him looking like a master vampire. Jake had a feeling that this Trosist might be the mage that had been controlling the doll he’d met earlier.

For Jake, that meeting had taken place a year ago, but he could still vividly remember the creepy doll thing, and the sense of power he’d gotten through it. Of course, Earth time, it’d only been half a day ago.

Suddenly, the radio crackled to life again. Vince’s voice was quiet, strained. There were more gunshots and roars in the background. “Grim, Jake, you still there!?”

“I’m here!”

“So... Jake... we fucked up.”

“What is happening!?”

“Some of the guys saw some Protectors come out with another body and opened up. Everything was fine for about a minute, but then someone in the college let out the vampires. It happened fast. The damn things scattered. We’re pulling back, but they’re following. The vampires are all over the damn place.

“And that was bad enough, but some guy appeared on the top of the college buildings right after we opened up too. He was laughing, and destroyed our cover with magic. One of the trucks was destroyed. I think he was aiming for the music car.

“This guy... he’s scary as hell. He’s... when we shoot at him, nothing happens, just like what happened with you.”

There were sounds of screams and more gunshots through the radio. Vince barked orders, directing the Warhounds to follow him. The sound of a revving engine was loud through the radio.

“And another bulletproof thing tore through the Post Apoc Kings before we broke contact. Uh, we need you, Jake. Grim. We fucked up. Get over here ASAP. Fuck.” There was an explosion through the mic, and Jake actually could hear this outside the mall too. “We’re going to regroup at the shopping center to the west from the mall, the one with the grocery store. Meet us there!”

The radio cut off and Jake heard engines revving up from outside. There were shouts and screams.

“God damnit!” Jake passionately cursed again. It sounded like the Protectors were waking up now. They had to be gearing up to reinforce their vampire factory. The jig was up now, and they had no reason to pretend to be the good guys anymore. “Why doesn’t anyone ever follow instructions!”

If he didn’t hurry to support Vince and his crew, they were likely all going to die. But he couldn’t head straight there either. If he did, the entire area would just be swamped with bad guys. They’d be surrounded. Jake might escape, but he couldn’t save the state of Georgia by himself.

Jake phased and flash-stepped into the mall.

The best thing he could think to do right now was to sow as much chaos as possible. He needed to give most of the Protectors a reason to stay at the mall.

“Fuck!” he cursed.

Jake ran through the hallway and grimaced as an alarm started blaring. “Where the hell did that come from?” he wondered aloud.

A couple of Protectors came out of a dark storefront, putting clothes and gear back on. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they’d been doing. Jake barely slowed as he heel-palmed them both in the chest with all his strength. They flew backwards, breath knocked from their lungs. While they were on the ground, Jake gave them both a savage choke slam. One neck actually broke. The two would-be reinforcements flopped on the ground like fish as Jake raced to the Protector barracks.

He had a fire to start. Luckily, he’d had plenty of practice.

Chapter 33

Jake ran through the mall. He killed two more Protectors and was not exactly subtle about it. Jake even shot one of them with a pistol he’d pulled from his storage ring. In his past life, he’d never been lucky enough to own a H&K Mark 23. It was nice to have one now, but he was also amused by the fact that he’d needed to literally die first.

He rounded a corner and two Protectors saw him the moment he saw them. One of them had a rifle. Jake only caught a glimpse, but it looked like an FAL or something. Felt like it too. When a bullet struck his protection field, it felt like he was getting hit by a huge pillow with a wadded-up ball of socks inside.

The Protectors’ radios chattered as Jake flash-stepped toward them, and one managed to rattle off a code into his mic before they were both down. Jake didn’t mind, though. The entire point of this frontal assault was to sow confusion and panic.

He didn’t waste any time when he reached the fortified area leading to the Protectors’ makeshift barracks. It was time to make some fire. Jake waved a hand and splashed the wooden walls with dozens of gallons of gasoline that he’d “borrowed” from the Post Apoc Kings. With the gas in place, he didn’t even waste any spiritual energy to light it on fire. He just used a lighter.

The gasoline whooshed into flame as a door opened and two more Protectors ran out. They immediately started to shout an alarm, and Jake heard yelling through the open door too. He flash-stepped away down the hallway, leveled a hand, and built a simple but concentrated Demonic Contradiction Wave. Jake compressed the energy, layering it and folding it.

When he delivered the attack, it hit like a train. The destruction looked like a wrecking ball had crashed through all the plywood barriers. Flames from the fire Jake had started blew through the hole along with most of the remaining gasoline.

Screams rang from inside. The hallway was suddenly flooded with more light as lanterns in the Protectors’ barracks reached the rest of the mall. Firearms barked and bullets whined through the air. Cultists fired blindly in Jake’s general direction.

He faded back into a shadow, took a few seconds to prepare another powerful Demonic Contradiction Wave, and sent the attack deep into the heart of the Macon Protectors’ base.

The cacophony was satisfying, as was the way Protectors came boiling forward like angry ants. Flames blocked most of them from getting any further, but a few had fire extinguishers.

Jake leveled his pistol and emptied the magazine. He didn’t need to hit anything, just keep the enemies’ heads down and make a lot of noise. Then he faded around the corner, dumped a few gallons of gasoline, and lit it on fire too.

That done, he flash-stepped in the opposite direction, approaching the refugees’ area. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to convince them that the Protectors were the bad guys, or even talk to them at all, but he figured it was worth a shot. If worse came to worst, he could definitely still scare them out of the mall.

Jake phased right into the department store, got on top of a makeup counter sporting some looted product stands, and shouted, “Humans! Hear me! Pay attention!”

Dead silence rang for several seconds. Multiple eyes stared at Jake over slack mouths. The spell was broken as a woman screamed, and one of the Protectors came running out of a changing room area.

“Everyone, get down!” the Protector shouted before he shot at Jake.

The panicking Protector had terrible aim. Jake would have been completely unharmed even without his defensive field, but two refugees were hit by stray bullets. This was not what he’d intended, and he felt the nausea of guilt bubble up in his stomach.

Jake growled and pointed his freshly reloaded MK23, firing four rounds. One missed, one hit the man in the shoulder, one in the hip, and the other winged him in the neck. He went down with a hand on the side of his throat.

All of the refugees screamed and ran away as fast as possible.

“That went even worse than I was afraid it might,” Jake muttered.

In hindsight, coming here hadn’t been the greatest decision, at least not for someone with a conscience. But for creating chaos, it might have been perfect. He kicked one of the .45 ACP shells off of the makeup counter in frustration.

Scaring the hell out of the refugees had made him feel dirty. He would have rather they’d listened to him, but that was logically a long shot from the get-go with how he looked now. Maybe it was for the best, though. Most people weren’t warriors, not really.

It was a shame the asshole Protector had hit two innocents, though. Fuckers.

He hopped down from the counter and took the radio from the wounded Protector. The beefy man was much more interested in keeping his liquids inside his body than attacking Jake now. “Where is your partner?” asked Jake. “Most of you people move in buddy teams, right?”

The downed man choked and coughed. But when Jake kicked him in the leg, the wounded Protector pointed vaguely outside, then held his hand out in the universal gesture for mercy. Maybe before Jake had seen the murdered old woman a few minutes ago—or if he couldn’t hear the wounded refugees groaning and crying behind him—it might have been different. But he didn’t have any mercy left for these people.

He leveled his pistol and put a .45 round through the man’s forehead. Blood and brains splattered all over what used to be a display of designer handbags.

Time to go, he thought.

Phasing and flash-stepping outside, Jake took a moment to get his bearings. The sound of gunshots seemed to ring out everywhere. Smoke was rising from the mall. The refugees he could see were either running, cowering, or packing up what little belongings they had, preparing to flee.

It was a good thing that Macon had been mostly free of monsters or they would have been everywhere by now too. Of course, that was about to change as the Protectors’ pet vampires ran amok.

Jake remembered what Vincent had said about the mysterious figure destroying cover for the Warhounds. Maybe he could throw some power around too.

A Macon Protectors’ truck was driving outside the distant barrier made of cars. Jake leapt straight up, far higher than a human could, and took advantage of the Deep Heavens Midnight Cloak’s floating effect. It gave him a higher vantage point and a stable platform.

He gathered a Demonic Contradiction Wave, aimed, and let loose.

The truck’s windows all shattered at once. One side of the vehicle crumpled inward like it’d been punched by a giant. It rocked to one side before veering off and slamming into a tree. Blood covered the interior. The driver and passenger were screaming, covered in injuries from the explosion and destroyed glass.

He decided not to finish them off. It was probably actually a good idea to wound a few Protectors instead of just killing them. They made for a bigger distraction and caused more noise.

Jake moved like a silhouette of flowing night through the pre-dawn darkness, taking any clear shots he could find. By moving and shooting, he effectively ground the Macon Protectors’ mobilization to a halt. Occasionally, they would shoot at where he’d just been, and sometimes the refugees were unfortunate casualties. Jake felt the guilt grow in the pit of his stomach, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it other than hope the wounded would survive.

All he could do was continue on this path, trying to stop these cultist assholes and save as many people as possible. His goal was still revenge. Stopping Georgia from becoming like Mexico in his first life was partially motivated by spite, but he couldn’t deny the fury that these assholes were trying to bring hell to his home state.

And he knew his family would be ashamed of him if he didn’t do everything in his power to help people. It was one of the reasons he’d become an adventurer in his first life. And he’d wanted to fight back, to at least bloody the eye of the evil that had come to Earth.

Jake missed most of his running shots and he even took a few hits that his defensive field shrugged off. But he succeeded in spreading terror and confusion as he headed toward the sounds of distant fighting and greater mayhem.

* * *

Vincent Jones was facing the reality that he was probably going to die within the next few minutes. He hadn’t ordered the actual attack on the college, but he should have known better than to think the others would wait. When they’d found the bodies, it’d been enough to make most of them throw up. Everyone who’d seen what the Protectors were transporting had been filled with revulsion, anger, and dismay.

The Warhounds were a new group with similar interests, banding together for security. He’d forgotten that they weren’t soldiers and it might have cost everyone everything.

The radio crackled, and an unfamiliar voice, maybe one of the Post Apoc Kings, hollered, “They’re fucking everywhere! We’re not gonna make it!”

Vince keyed his mic and snarled, “Clear the fucking radio! Keep the line open for leaders and direction, over. Focus on staying alive and getting to the rendezvous point. We need to form a defensive position!”

“Roger!” The radio clicked several more times as others silently acknowledged the order.

The entire convoy had scattered. Hopefully, everyone was heading toward the rendezvous point. Vince had run over a vampire and gone the opposite direction, drawing some of them after him. His route had been longer, an attempt to distract some of the bastards. Away from his people.

He’d already ordered everyone on the convoy channel not to head back to their bases or they might have monsters follow them home. Besides, most of the gun hands were here. The only way to survive this would be to fight through it.

But plenty of people were already dead, including Warhounds members. The vehicle that had been blasting music was gone. Vince had ordered everyone to play music in their car if they could.

And as Vincent sped through the darkness, headlights set to high beams, radio playing the mix CD he’d had in the jeep, he caught sight of vehicles right before shots rang out. His back window shattered.

He recognized one of the SUVs.

Vince grabbed the radio as he gunned the engine. “All elements, this is Warhounds One. Be advised I am being engaged by Screaming Demons. Positive ID. Keep an eye on your six, over.”

After giving the warning, Vince swerved and put every ounce of attention he had into driving. Earlier, he’d enjoyed being alone in the jeep, but now he would have killed to have a passenger to return fire.

If not for the dead cars and other obstacles in the roads, Vince would have probably already been shot. In movies, cars stopped bullets. In real life, not so much. One round through the back of his jeep might be lights out. But the chasing vehicles couldn’t seem to get a good angle.

He thought he caught rapid movement in the darkness to one side and his stomach dropped. There were vampires everywhere now and the bastards could move fast. He’d taken a loop, but the fact that they’d gotten this far already was terrifying. At least traveling this direction meant they were heading away from the rendezvous point, though.

Dozens, maybe hundreds of vampires had come boiling out of the college only minutes ago. They’d all pounced, screeching for blood. If not for the fact that a good number of the Warhounds and their allies had still been mounted in vehicles, everyone likely would have died.

And that was before the figure in the robe had begun throwing around powerful magic.

Vince was on a straight stretch of road now, so he floored his jeep, trying to open up distance. What was left of a Walmart was to the right. The half-burned building flashed by before he swerved, taking a turn a little too sharp, trying to head back to the main highway. Like before, the debris and crashed vehicles all over the place were obstacles, but also provided cover.

The grocery store shopping center was close to the Macon Mall, only just down the street from the Protectors’ headquarters. The Warhounds weren’t trying to hide, there was no running away from this. This was a battle. If they retreated now, the Protectors would likely come with numbers to crush them.

He’d rejected the idea of running again for the same reason he had earlier. The first time he’d made the decision, it’d been before he’d seen with his own eyes that the Grim had been telling the truth about the Protectors.

As unlikely as it’d seemed, this was reality: the Protectors were the bad guys, the worst kind. And if Jake had been right about that, he was probably right about Macon being ground zero.

If Georgia fell, the entire eastern half of the United States would become monster central too. Vince would not be able to protect his family if that happened, no matter if they escaped the state or how lucky they were. Luckily, the other Warhounds, the Night Rangers, and the Post Apoc Kings all seemed to be on the same page about this. They were all scared shitless, but had also accepted that running away wasn’t an option.

Being told about the second end of the world by a demonic-looking thing with glowing blue eyes that casually ripped apart ghouls had been... convincing. Jake could have killed them all but had been helping. Whatever he was, he was on their side. Hopefully, he’d get his scary-looking ass to the grocery store so the Warhounds would have their trump card.

This was do or die.

Vince hoped to Christ he was not the only one left alive. He also hoped the guys who’d started attacking earlier against orders were still alive so he could punch them in the face.

He finally hit the highway and willed his old jeep to haul ass. Behind and ahead, he could see the muzzle flashes of weapons firing in the dark. It looked like some homeowners that had been hiding were out there now, maybe attacked by vampires. The entire area was a mess. Cars and trucks’ headlights were zig-zagging around both sides of the road, maybe Warhounds who were escaping and trying to reposition like Vince was. He hoped, at least.

Headlights from the pursuing Screaming Demons cut across the highway as he was about to turn left to head to the shopping center, but he saw a dozen shining pairs of eyes.

The street was swarmed with monsters.

“Fuck!” He cut the wheel hard to the right as he braked and dropped the jeep into a lower gear. Then he gunned it across the median, back to the highway.

Gunshots rang behind him, and he checked his mirrors, trying to spot the monsters he’d seen. He didn’t think they could run fast enough to catch him, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions. He hadn’t been sure if what he’d seen had been vampires or ghouls. Either type of monster would be bad news. If he would have slowed down to get around an obstacle, they could be through his driver’s side window in a flash.

He hoped the damn things would go after the Screaming Demons assholes. Even if those psychos were working with the Macon Protectors, monsters couldn’t be controlled, could they?

A Mexican Grill flashed by on the left as he began getting up to speed again. His radio crackled to life. “Uh, all elements. Uh, this is Rich from Night Rangers.” The man’s voice was terse, stressed. “We have a position at the discount grocery store, the one standing by itself. If you drive to us, hit your high beams twice so we know you got this message and that you are you. There are snipers on the roof that can help if you are being followed. Uh, over.”

That makes sense, Vince thought. From a single building standing by itself, the defenders could see in every direction better. It would be harder to catch them unaware. They’d be a more conspicuous target, but it sounded like some of the guys were already set up.

And unlike Vince, most of the Warhounds had fled straight to this area after the original mission had gone south. He had to believe most of them had survived, he had to. There were a hell of a lot of Macon Protectors, and they had a few mages.

He kept frantically looking left, trying to find a place he could cut over the median again and just drive off-road into the shopping center, but there was a chain link fence separating the highway from the parking lots. No good. Vince knew better than to challenge a fence with his jeep. Even if he made it through without killing himself, it would probably kill his ride.

And Vince couldn’t outrun monsters or SUVs on foot.

He finally neared the next intersection, the last before the Macon mall. Only a large residential area separated this shopping center from the mall down the street. The intersection looked like it used to have a makeshift blockade—probably set up Macon Protectors—but now it was unmanned. All that was left were some broken boards, leftover twisted metal, and glass on the ground. Either the Warhounds or a Warhound ally had smashed through whoever had been blocking this place, or maybe they’d left due to the monsters.

Vince drove across the median again to get a lead on his pursuer and evade fire. He had to slow down as he turned, but was still going fairly fast. So, when a car came crashing down in the middle of the street ahead of him—out of the freakin’ sky—he almost couldn’t stop in time.

“What the fuck!?” he yelled.

The jeep fishtailed as he slammed on the brakes. His front bumper crumpled as he hit the destroyed car in the middle of the road at a skidding ten miles per hour. Vince was glad he didn’t have an airbag.

And the jeep died. “Shit, shit, shit!” he hissed.

He kicked the door open. It took both legs. Then he climbed out of the vehicle as fast as he could, grabbing his Mossberg 500 and taking it with him. The moment he was outside on the road, he almost made a run for it, but stopped dead when he saw where the thrown car must have come from. Some sort of huge monster, a giant with three eyes, was standing on the left side of the road. It must have thrown the car to create a trap, and now it opened a creepy, pointed mouth. A vampire crouched to one side and behind the thing, not moving. Maybe it was waiting for scraps.

Vince didn’t hesitate. He aimed his shotgun at the giant and rattled off three 12-gauge rounds, two slugs and one 00 buckshot. There was no noticeable effect. The giant took a step, and that one stride immediately ate up half of the distance between them.

After shooting the rest of his shells in his shotgun’s tube, Vince transitioned to his pistol, a good ol’ Sig P220. The odds of his shots doing anything to an almost twenty-foot-tall monster wasn’t great, but Vince knew he couldn’t run, and he wasn’t going to die cowering. He’d promised himself that a long time ago.

Screeching tires and distant headlights on the highway could have been friend or foe, but either way, they weren’t going to reach his position before the giant had caught him.

He knew he was screwed. This was it.

The giant was taking another step forward, when suddenly, its arm fell off at the shoulder. A spray of thick-looking blood erupted from the wound and the giant made a ground-trembling, foghorn-sounding cry of pain.

Vince ran a palm over his face to refocus his vision. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

The Grim, Jake, stood behind the giant now, a sword in his hand. His other hand was extended and the vampire was down too, its throat torn open. What the hell just happened?

The vampire on the ground was rolling around as it clawed at its ruined throat. Jake economically chopped his blade into its forehead and didn’t spare it another glance. He jumped forward supernaturally fast while swinging his deadly curved blade. A moment later, the giant was collapsing, one of its legs almost severed.

Vince’s blood ran cold, even more than a few seconds earlier when he’d been sure he was going to die. He’d seen Jake kill a ghoul before, but it’d been nothing like this. The Grim’s casual display of power and skill with a weapon was unlike anything the Warhounds’ leader had ever seen before.

The giant bellowed on the ground, rage in its mismatched eyes. Ropes of saliva fell from the thing’s jackal-like mouth. This close, Vince could feel its hot breath. Its head turned, and Vince’s stomach dropped as the giant focused on him. Then it snarled, clawing its way forward with one arm faster than it had any right to. Vince raised his pistol again, but Jake was already on top of the thing, planting his sword through the huge monster’s skull.

He took it down in seconds, marveled Vince. The giant had shrugged off enough hot lead to kill two grizzly bears, but Jake’ sword had made short work of it.

The Grim spoke. His awful, grating voice didn’t bother Vince nearly as much as it had before. “You should get going—Vincent, right? Most of the others that have survived are already at the grocery store. A few more are trickling in.” As if to punctuate what he’d said, a big truck managed to plow through the chain link fence a few hundred yards down the road the way Vince had just come. He hoped it was one of the Warhounds or Kings or Rangers. The Night Demons were still out there, but strangely enough, none of the ones that had been pursuing him were anywhere to be seen anymore.

Vince shook his head to clear it. “Grim! Jake! There were Screaming Demons in an SUV behind me!” As he spoke, he reloaded his shotgun.

Jake nodded and pointed. “They went after someone else. A few people have died from them, and more from the monsters down the street. The vampires are in a feeding frenzy now. There are others coming this way now too,” Jake said grimly. “All of this chaos and blood is attracting monsters from far enough away that the Protectors hadn’t cleared them yet. What the fuck were you thinking? This is a disaster. You assholes really should have waited for me.”

“Yeah,” was all Vince said in reply. He didn’t make any excuses. The Warhounds hadn’t been together long, but he should have been a better leader. Plenty of his people had already died in the last few minutes. It was something he’d live with forever if he managed to survive.

Jake’s gaze was terrifying as he seemed to peer directly into Vince’s soul. The mysterious creature turned to look up the street. “We will talk about it later. You need to regroup, help your people. The Macon Protectors are probably tied up for a few more minutes, but they’re only five or ten minutes away once they actually move out. So seriously, get going. Now.”

“Alright, I hear you. I’m gone.” Vince put actions to words and began jogging up the road.

Now that he was paying attention, he could faintly hear shouting in the distance and see lights. The sound of an occasional gunshot rang out. All the commotion was probably coming from the rendezvous point. Suddenly, his brain seemed to unfreeze and he remembered the gear he had on him. The radio! he thought.

He pulled his radio out of his pocket. “All elements, this is Warhound One on approach to the rendezvous point. Any Warhounds leadership on site, give me a sit rep, over.”

“Vince! This is Warhound Three! We’re here, I’m here on the roof!” Cathie’s voice came over the radio clearly. “Get your ass up here now! Come from the east! We’re getting attacked from the west! Vampires! They’re taking cover from bullets and trying to get close!”

Vince spat. “Warhound Three, this is Warhound One, I’m heading that way now on foot. What the fuck are you doing there? You are supposed to be back at the base!”

“No time to talk now, Warhound One. I am filling in as a medic, hands are busy. It’s good to know you are still with us. Be careful, Vince.”

“God damnit. Got it. Out.”

Up ahead, about a hundred yards up the road, a zombie was shuffling out from the woods next to an oil change business. There were still monsters around, and they were likely being attracted to the noise and the light.

Lord only knew how many vampires had been released into Macon from the college. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. One of the freaky, skeletal vampires could come leaping out of the dark any second. His heart beat a million miles a minute and the metric tons of adrenaline that had been hitting his system for the last ten minutes made him jittery. He was keyed up to the max, ready to fight his way to his people.

Suddenly, he realized that his group’s greatest weapon wasn’t coming with him. He slowed and turned. “You coming?”

Jake shook his head. His eyes glowed blue in the darkness. “No.” Even though The Grim hadn’t raised his voice, the words carried. “I have a different fight now, I think. You need to reach your men and hold out until dawn. Then you can track down the vampires and kill them, hell, burn them out. That is your only chance. Maybe arm some refugees. Some of them have run away from the mall.” The mysterious horned, English-speaking monster suddenly cocked his head. He looked almost like he was listening.

Then with no warning, Jake jumped. A second later, the pavement where he’d been standing exploded. The Grim rode the purple flash, his cape spread out and widening. It seemed to help him float to the rooftop of a nearby bank.

Vince stopped in his tracks. He didn’t want to call attention to himself, but he watched where The Grim went. A tall, menacing figure, like the one he’d seen on the college roof, was having a faceoff with Jake from across the street. The creature glowed purple and just looking at the thing make Vince shiver. It felt like death.

“Trosist, I presume?” Jake’s raised voice was calm, cold. It carried on the night air.

“Indeed. That would be me,” the tall figure said. “I believe we have met before.” Trosist dropped the hood of his black robe and revealed a monstrous, fanged visage that was highlighted by the moonlight. Blood-red eyes with purple sclera burned above a sardonic smile. He held a gnarled staff topped by a crystal in one hand. Under his robe, his body was gaunt, elongated in inhuman ways.

“You were the doll?” Jake asked.

“Yes. That... situation has caused me a fair amount of inconvenience, I will admit. I should have destroyed you then.”

“Well, you can try now,” Jake said. Vincent thought it sounded like he was smiling. “You’re a dark powers’ boot licker. The only difference between you and a fissure witch is the amount of power and level of delusion.”

“Insults? Very well. Talk is cheap anyway.” The demonic, red-eyed figure leveled his staff and half of the bank building exploded.

The blast fanned outwards away from the point of impact, like it’d been hit by the largest bullet ever made. Vince’s heart dropped for a second, but after a flicker, Jake was standing right in front of him, looking completely unharmed. “Vince, you really need to go,” was all the Heavenly Grim said before flashing forward at Trosist.

Jake’s attack blurred at the creature’s head, but Trosist blocked with his staff and swiped at Jake with long, jagged claws. The next series of exchanges were inhumanly fast, ending with the two of them both being blown away from each other by unseen energies.

Vince had no idea what was going on, but he could recognize a fight that was way above his pay grade. Deciding not to order an attack on the Grim earlier had been a very, very smart decision.

And now he was also sure that Jake was an ally. He might be a monster, but he was their monster. At least for now.

Back on the highway, new headlights were moving up the road at high speed. Vince had no way of knowing who they were. The situation was getting more chaotic every second, but he was sure of one thing now. Vince needed to get the fuck out of Dodge.

He began running as fast as he could toward the grocery store, only pausing to destroy the zombie in his way with a well-aimed blast of 00 buckshot.

Behind him, there was another, louder explosion, and a few heartbeats later, debris began to rain down from the sky. A large piece, probably several hundred pounds’ worth of vehicle, crashed through a window of the building to Vince’s right.

He risked a quick glance backwards and swallowed. Then he sprinted in earnest. Another building had just been partially smashed by a column of purple flame. Where the magic had hit now lingered a combination of violet and orange flame before it all transitioned to regular fire, the purple fading away. Two figures sped through the darkness, casting flickering shadows as they hissed and growled and tried to destroy each other.

Don’t die, Grim, Vince thought. His breath wheezed and his lungs burned, but he didn’t slow down. If you can’t take whatever that thing is, I’m damn sure we can’t.

Chapter 34

Jake barely got his saber up in time to deflect his opponent’s staff. He ducked.

Instead of taking his head off, the energy blade projected from the staff’s crystal hummed through the air over his horns.

The fight was not going well. Jake was wounded in multiple places. He was slowly healing some of his damage, but doing so while also maintaining enough energy to cycle his cultivation base was proving to be one hell of a balancing act and a drain on his focus. The battle had raged across the entire shopping center.

Miniature bolts of violet fire erupted from the evil mage’s pointed finger, forcing Jake to dodge. Each attack sizzled on the pavement where it hit. The sound was like someone throwing a spoon full of water in a frying pain full of oil.

As Jake began to get closer, dodging like mad, Trosist suddenly made the air glint with a complex magic circle. With the sound of a tortured wind tunnel, a wall of flame rushed out. This attack was a dizzying display of destructive power that set parked cars on fire as it burst forward.

Jake flash-stepped directly through the mystic plasma wall and savagely swung at Trosist’s chest. The monster managed to parry and deliver a line of angry blue flame in a scything arc from his palm.

The Midnight Cloak swirled around Jake’s shoulders, barely blocking the attack in time.

Jake barely dodged a follow-up stab to the face. He could feel the heat of his enemy’s energy weapon as it passed where his head had just been.

Trosist’s staff was now as dangerous as Jake’s Lunar Dao Polishing-enhanced saber. Its projected magic blade could cut into concrete and asphalt. Both Jake’s saber and the staff could stop each other, but right now, the vampire mage had the advantage in reach and in mystic reserves.

And it just wasn’t fair that the evil champion was obviously magic-focused, but could still be so physically strong and fast.

Jake grunted as he swung again, going for his enemy’s knee, but Trosist flowed backward and perfectly timed a powerful kick to his shoulder. The Midnight Cloak didn’t catch it in time, and Jake went sailing through the air, smashing through the window of an Old Navy.

His protection field was weakened enough already that it dropped for a moment after the impact of the terrible blow. He was actually cut by the glass. Only his Gold-level Body Refinement flesh protected him from the worst of it.

Jake rolled backwards, bringing up his empty hand and delivering the fastest Demonic Contradiction Wave that he could generate. The blast blew out the front of the store, turning the remaining glass into a hailstorm of glittering projectiles. Trosist snarled as he canceled whatever attack he’d been creating, leaving the partially formed circle to fade where it hung in the air. He barely got up a half-sphere of protection in time to avoid being shredded.

Damn, Jake thought. He’d hoped to get the asshole with that one. Experience had taught him not to give his enemy too much breathing room, so Jake dashed forward, closing with the powerful monsters again. He thought about using a flash step, but dismissed it. Trosist had figured out at some point that Jake had a hard time using flash steps too many times in a row, and that they were the best defensive option he had.

The nasty burn on Jake’s leg had been the result of Trosist throwing spells around, trying to pin him. Luckily, he’d only partially succeeded, but the near-miss had been enough to make Jake be a little cagier.

He’d been the underdog in almost every fight he’d had in his second life. But he realized that he’d also gotten used to being underestimated.

Unfortunately, this enemy had met him before and was not making the same mistake.

And Trosist was the strongest monster Jake had ever actually fought before. In either life. The savage mage was at least a B-rank threat. A solid B-rank monster was an order of magnitude stronger than a C-rank monster like a fissure witch. The dragon in Colorado, the most powerful monster in America that Jake knew of, was A rank. Of course, between B and A ranks was BB rank.

The ranking system had been created by scientists, or so he believed. Jake had always thought the system was needlessly complicated, but he was used to thinking this way now. Luckily, Trosist likely wasn’t quite BB rank, but he might be getting close.

The only reason Jake was still alive was in large part due to the Deep Heavens Solstice Society Midnight Cloak and the fact that he was a cultivator. If Jake had been using magic instead of cultivation abilities, Trosist would have likely already won.

In his first life, Jake had switched to cultivation from magic for a number of reasons. One was the general weakness of magic against cultivation techniques. Another was how progression in cultivation and harnessing more energy actually made the physical body stronger, not just one’s techniques. And cultivating also developed the mind, as it sharpened reflexes and increased focus.

The tradeoff with cultivation was losing a lot of the versatility most mages had, but Jake’s master had shown him that versatility was overrated if pitted against enough raw power.

In this case, Jake was weaker than Trosist, but at least he was slightly stronger physically. He was resistant to his evil magic too. Against a human mage, Jake actually might have won already. Unfortunately, Trosist was some sort of vampiric monster, and the champion of a god.

And even though Jake could evade most of what was being thrown at him, his enemy seemed to have a lot of energy to burn.

“What are you, ‘Heavenly Grim?’” Trosist asked as he smirked and floated back. “Yes, I know who you are. The Grim. After our first encounter, I took the initiative to investigate you. I know what you are calling yourself and some of what you have done, but not what you are.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? You will try to kill me either way.”

“Well, yes, but we still have curiosity and manners.” Trosist made a gesture with his free hand. “Look around us. There is beauty in a discussion amongst destruction, is there not?”

Little fires burned all over the parking lot, and entire businesses were burning. A staccato thunder of gunshots rang out in the distance, proof that humans still lived.

“Beauty? I just see a lot of property damage.” A distant ghoul began getting closer but apparently thought better of it. Jake could only imagine what kind of energy the two of them were giving off.

“Well, if you refuse to tell me what sort of creature you are, you should at least tell me what god you serve. You are a champion, are you not?”

“None of your business,” Jake spat and was tempted to just leave it there, but he needed to keep his enemy talking so he could rest longer. He still didn’t exactly understand how his physiology worked as a ghoul, but he was breathing heavily. If not for reflexes and luck, he might already be dead.

Jake concentrated for a brief moment. With his enhanced senses, he could tell that the human defenders were hanging on, but barely. They’d listened to his advice about the music, which was good. Music really was a simple shield against mind tricks. Right now, the defenders were playing “Waterfalls,” by TLC.

Arcane energy had been steadily building in Macon over the last hour. It was strong enough now that he could be sure of it. One result of all the buzzing power in the region had been a massive increase in monster activity. The energy had been attracting them.

With a great deal of focus, Jake could barely sense what the Macon Liberators were doing at the mall. At the moment, they were busy protecting their own asses from the waves of monsters invading the city.

It was a little ironic how the Protectors had cleared the cities of monsters—other than the ones they were harboring and feeding, of course—likely to reduce competition for vulnerable human prey. But their efforts to aid Tlaloc, to bring part of his realm to Earth, had ultimately attracted so many monsters that they were defending themselves and didn’t even have the time or manpower to go after Jake’s allies.

This was fortunate for the Warhounds, or they would have been annihilated by now for sure. Jake was amazed they hadn’t run out of ammo already.

He wasn’t sure what else to say, so he just babbled something random that came to mind. “Besides, you’re wondering what I am? What about you? You should not even be here.”

Trosist cocked his head. “What do you mean? This is where I should be most. A dying world, ready for plunder, serving my god. What are you? Something monstrous, or maybe demonic in origin. Blocking us, you say? You must serve the dark as well. What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” Jake chuckled grimly. “That’s rich, coming from some kind of fucked-up, lord-of-the-dead-looking vampire thing that sacrifices children and kisses ass to an ugly, child-killing god.”

Trosist rolled his eyes. “You should speak more respectfully, especially since you are such a hypocrite. One of your titles is ‘Feaster of Children,’ is it not, Grim?”

Jake’s mouth worked for a second as he remembered his meeting with The Morrigan. “Titles?” he said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “You can see titles? How!?”

“Ah! And now I am somewhat enlightened.” His expression was smug. “Yes, I can see titles. Champions gain the ability to see titles, and will see more as they mature and grow in power. The fact that you know about them but did not know it was possible to see them yourself means you have likely been scouted to be a champion, but have not actually accepted the honor. Or perhaps you are not qualified yet. How interesting.”

Jake was as impressed by Trosist’s insight as he was angry at himself. This is why you don’t talk to monsters, idiot! he mentally yelled at himself. How the knowledge that he was not a champion would help his enemy he didn’t know, but he didn’t like volunteering information.

Luckily, the talk had gone on long enough for him to catch his breath, and he flash-stepped into a surprise slashing attack. He wasn’t particularly shocked when Trosist somehow managed to block the strike. Just disappointed.

The savage fight continued.

* * *

Jake slammed into a car and grunted in pain. His energy reserves were actually getting dangerously close to running out. Power running through his meridians was ragged, uneven, and his channels were frayed. He was mentally and spiritually exhausted from rotating his cultivation base so fast for so long. Behind him, the Warhounds, the Post Apoc Kings, and what was left of the Night Rangers fought a desperate defensive battle.

The Macon Defenders mostly still had their hands full at the mall, but at some point, members of the Screaming Demons had shown up and took pot shots from hiding places, or even attacked from moving vehicles. They attempted drive-bys with firearms or flinging magic.

All of them avoided Jake and Trosist’s fight now.

Stray magic had torn apart a van with would-be opportunists, and a Demonic Contradiction Wave had totaled one side of a Fiat. The driver had survived, unfortunately.

The entire area had devolved into pure chaos. A group of armed homeowners had even come out of hiding from the nearby neighborhood to defend their families as best they could.

Somehow, the Screaming Demons were being largely ignored by the scores of monsters invading Macon. Jake figured they must have talismans or something for protection, but he didn’t have much time to think about it, or to wonder why the Macon Protectors didn’t seem to have similar devices.

His chest hurt, burned and punctured. Makeshift shrapnel from an exploding wall had lacerated the back of his leg. A gaping cut on his shoulder was slowing him down.

Jake was losing. The human groups he’d brought to the fight were losing. Everything was going wrong. If matters continued as they were, everyone was going to die for sure.

But he still had one very large, very real hope.

Sunrise is really soon now, he thought, and tried to keep every speck of what he was thinking off of his face and out of his aura.

Not all monsters were weaker during the day, but a lot were. Vampires definitely didn’t like the sun. And at the very least, during the day, humans could see better and the monsters wouldn’t have as much of an advantage from night vision or superior smell.

His attention wavered for a second too long. He barely blocked a savage strike from Trosist. Jake immediately stepped into it so he blocked the mage’s staff, but not his energy blade. The impact of the blow still drove the back of his saber into his body.

A sheer force of energy from the exchange flung him to the ground. Jake immediately sprang to his feet, but he didn’t regroup. Didn’t even gather energy for a Demonic Contradiction Wave.

This fight was going badly, and even though he didn’t have to hold on much longer before sunrise, what he was doing wasn’t working.

He needed to change it up.

Jake embraced the inhuman nature of his body. If fighting like a cultivator wasn’t enough in this situation, maybe he could fight like a monster.

He dropped his sword into his storage ring as he pounced forward, enhancing the claws on his pinkies with Lunar Dao Polishing. Trosist’s eyes widened and the vampiric creature tried to levitate backwards at max speed.

Jake flash-stepped, and just like that, he was right in front of his enemy. One hand clamped onto the staff, using all of his strength to immobilize it. He rabbit-punched the enemy mage in the face with his other hand before raking the side of Trosist’s head with his enhanced claw. His attack didn’t make it far through the mage’s defenses, but put a nasty cut from his hairline to his jaw, through one eye and his lips.

The next few seconds were a desperate struggle for control of the staff as Jake used every dirty fighting trick he knew.

Trosist tried to burn Jake to death even as he grabbed with his weapon. Several magic attacks actually hit.

Jake didn’t relent. He surged forward, smashing his forehead into Trosist’s bloody face and sinking his sharp teeth into the high-level vampire’s shoulder.

Trosist roared in pain and anger. He began casting a powerful spell, but Jake threw knees and elbows, striking as hard and fast as he could. The two of them crashed into a Home Depot. Trosist threw magic attacks at point blank range, but Jake leaned into them, trusting his Midnight Cloak as he ripped and tore.

They demolished a shelf full of toilets. Trosist bit Jake in the deltoid, right over the cut he’d sustained earlier. It hurt like hell, more than it should have, and Jake roared. He threw a hooking punch into the vampire’s ear hole, dislodging the bite, and side-kicked him deeper into the plumbing department.

Jake began building a Demonic Contradiction Wave. A triple-layered one. He let it loose at the same time that Trosist snarled and launched a fireball. The first layer of the Demonic Contradiction Wave exploded, mitigating some of the other attack. With the second explosion, all of the fire attack was overpowered, and Jake’s third blast caught Trosist in the chest.

His enemy was blown to the back of the store, scattering washing machines as he went. A moment of silence rang through the store, only broken by falling merchandise. Sounds from the fighting outside the store we’re clear now. The violent clash of energies had blown holes in the roof.

Jake breathed heavily. He was dripping dark, evil-looking blood. His body was covered in cuts and burns now. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like one of his arms was broken. One of his eyes was blurry. As he gasped, he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. He was a mess. His body hurt all over and his mouth tasted foul from biting Trosist even after coughing up blood. He spat in disgust.

A second later, the entire store exploded.

He barely managed to channel energy into his defenses and flash-step away from the worst of it before being blown backwards like a cannonball.

It was hard to think. His head was fuzzy from the shockwave. If he hadn’t evaded and defended himself, the blast would have killed him for sure.

At few moments later, he realized a few things at once.

First, he was up in the air. Whether he had been flash-stepped upwards in confusion, or the blast had taken him that way on its own, or even bounced him off the ground, he didn’t know. He was so injured, he could believe that he’d been bounced. The Midnight Cloak was keeping him floating high in the air better than a parachute could.

Second, he was almost entirely out of energy. Protecting himself from being destroyed had taken almost all of the last of his reserves.

Third, the explosion had been some sort of attack launched in a line. An angry, burning scar extended from the back of the store, demolishing half of it and cutting across the parking lot. The pavement glowed red hot. Cars had been vaporized. Little fires burned in dozens of places.

It was a catastrophe, a level of attack that Jake could not hope to replicate yet.

Fourth, the sun was finally starting to come up.

Yay, thought Jake tiredly. These fuckers had killed his family, and the least he could do was ruin their plans. But that thought froze as he noticed one more thing. An exhausted and wounded Trosist was talking to some bowing Protectors in the parking lot below. He looked angry and frustrated. The cultists bowed lower.

Lastly, Jake noticed that, at the grocery store where the Warhounds were fighting, more of the Screaming Demons had pulled up in vans. They were taking cover behind walls or engine blocks, trying their best to kill Vincent’s people. And one of them threw fire. That’s the fire mage! Jake recognized two of them from the description his sister had given of the awakened that had killed the Andersons and his family.

The tiny bit of light on the horizon hadn’t actually lit up the sky yet, which was lucky for Jake. If it’d been daytime, he would have been much more conspicuous while using the Midnight Cloak to float. Right now, Trosist seemed to think he was dead, or at least nobody was looking up.

Jake felt like shit. His world was agony. But at least when he got down to the ground, he would still have enough power to go say hello to the assholes who’d killed his father. Jake could feel his eyes start to burn.

He glanced back down again and swallowed. His heart went from radiating rage to dropping down to his feet.

Trosist was leaving, heading north, right past the burning wreck of the Home Depot and into the forest. The mage was limping and noticeably agitated, even from such a distance.

Oh shit, Jake thought. He was very aware of how lucky he was to still be alive and that he’d wounded the dark champion as much as he had. Not only that, he still had all the information he’d gotten from Goatee-guy. Alex. Jake also had all of the mage training from his first life to draw on.

And he had a very, very bad feeling he knew exactly what Trosist was going to do. Which meant everyone was out of time.

“Fuck,” he hissed passionately. He pointed a hand and considered building a Demonic Contradiction Wave powerful enough to obliterate both of the Screaming Demon assholes who’d killed his family and pretended to be Warhounds. The mage and the strongman.

He might miss with his attack, but he felt in his bones that he could make it count. The problem was it would wipe out the last of his energy. After that, he truly wouldn’t even be able to cycle his cultivation base to keep fighting. He was pretty much down to his claws and his sword now before he could recover.

And his shattered body was going to make him much less effective. He could deal with the pain. Practicing the Four Winds of Heaven Purification had increased his resistance to pain by an impressive amount.

But he wouldn’t be much help to the defenders without the last of his energy, and he damn sure wouldn’t be able to kill Trosist.

Jake took a look around the ruined shopping center. Bodies were being savaged by ghouls behind cars and around corners. The Warhounds and their friends desperately defended their shattered grocery store, possibly where they’d chosen to make their last stand.

Vampires were slowly starting to slink away, repelled by the impending dawn, but the Screaming Demons—the same group that had killed Jake’s family in his first life—had chosen now to join the party in earnest.

Jake could kill the fire mage and strong guy and likely still get away, or still escape what was to come.

But he just couldn’t do it.

He knew what it had been like to go to Ahriman’s realm. Could he live with himself if he let that shit happen to Vince, or the other decent people he’d met? What about the goth chick he’d helped before? She was still in Georgia.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...goddamn motherfucker.” He sighed.

He cast one more wistful glance at the two people he wanted to kill most in this world before instructing the Midnight Cloak to lower him to the ground faster. The moment his feet touched the parking lot, he began shuffle-running into the forest, going the same direction that Trosist had.

Catching and killing that asshole was the only way to stop vampire hell from coming to America. And he had a terrible feeling he was the only one who could do it.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Dina,” he said softly. He knew they’d approve of what he was doing, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was betraying them.

As he ran through the forest, gasping and hissing in pain, he wished he could cry properly. Instead, he just heaved in emotional distress while blood ran down his face.

His earlier, vague desire to get stronger crystallized.

Jake was going to end Trosist or die trying, and after that, he was going to get so strong, he would never be taken advantage of again. He vowed to never have to make a choice like the one he’d just made ever again. His mission to get stronger wouldn’t stop until he could punch Ahriman’s teeth through the back of his head.

Sorrow and anger carried Jake through the early morning twilight. He couldn’t quite bring himself to pray, but his eyes glowed blue and he flexed his claws, remembering a Bible verse that seemed appropriate.

Praise be to the LORD my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.

His skin didn’t catch on fire just thinking about it.

Jake took that as a good sign.

Chapter 35

The new day was still dark but growing brighter. Jake slowed to a stop and sat. The slowly rising sun was good, but he had a problem beyond just the ragged and torn condition of his body.

Where the hell is Trosist? he thought. He’d lost track of his quarry a while ago, and his supernatural senses weren’t very helpful now either. Not only was the vampiric mage already slippery as an eel, senses-wise, Jake was running so low on energy that he couldn’t put any extra power into any of his abilities either. His senses were currently not much better than his standard six senses.

Jake’s father had always told him that if he ever felt overwhelmed by a problem, he should first stop, take a breather, and then think about the solution instead of the problem.

The woods were silent while Jake pondered. Even the animals were quiet. Maybe they could sense the end coming.

His claw clicked as he tapped it on a rock. The solution, not the problem, he thought.

Leaving when he’d had his family’s murders in sight hadn’t been easy, and he didn’t want to even consider that he’d let that opportunity go for nothing. He refused to let Trosist, the vampy mage evil champion dickhead, get away.

No, no, that’s the problem. Dammit. But maybe... okay, I’ll list the problems first so I know what to avoid, he thought. Alright, so I need to catch Trosist. If I don’t, the entire fucking area is going to stop being Georgia soon, he thought.

Impending magical doom had been a strong hunch before, but by now, he’d confirmed it. He could glance up and use his trained mage sight to see lines of magical force tied to workings, massive, ominous arms of power all slowly extending over the entire area. This working was very different from what he’d experienced before he’d died—the s-rift to Ahriman’s domain. That had been like an ambush. This was... like sneaking up on the ignorant.

He wished the bad guys had some sort of convenient magical epicenter where he’d find Trosist, but that was a pipe dream. This type of magic didn’t work that way. Blood magic—dark ritual magic—didn’t have to follow the same rules as traditional, ceremonial circle magic.

Trosist had vanished and Jake was out of power. He also desperately needed to recover from all the damage his body had sustained, but if he took the time to do that, Macon would be doomed and Jake probably would be too. Even if Jake could somehow recover, logically, his enemy would be able to as well. Trosist had already been stronger than him before. If they fought a second time at full strength, Jake might not get so lucky again.

The solution was he needed to find Trosist. And again, that realization didn’t help much.

He thought furiously, trying to find any clue that might help track down his enemy. Okay, he thought, Trosist wouldn’t be going just anywhere, right? He’d have some sort of special place where there would have been blood ceremonies, human sacrifices, dark stuff like that. And there would be an altar to Tlaloc.

So that means it could be anywhere... but the Macon Protectors, or maybe dedicated cultists would have needed to shuttle sacrifices there, maybe blood too. It would be a really bad place magically, worse than where they were keeping the vampires in Macon, probably isolated…

Jake’s thoughts suddenly tapered off as his memory was jogged. When he’d first gotten to Macon, when he’d been heading to the lake, he’d cut through the forest and seen a pickup truck driving at night. And he’d smelled blood at the time too. He’d gotten a bad premonition about the vehicle. Even after all this time, the memory was still strong.

It couldn’t be that simple, could it? he thought. What would be the odds?

The location of the little train he’d seen the truck on was not very far away. Jake didn’t have anything to lose by acting on his hunch, so he endured the agony of rotating his cultivation base. His meridians and his muscles screamed in protest, but he got up to run again.

He was tempted to try absorbing the energy of the last vampire core in his storage ring, but doing so would take time—time he couldn’t spare.

Instead, he just pushed on. If he wasn’t already at the Gold-level of Body Refinement, he might have already completely destroyed his poor meridians by now. It wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on.

* * *

Well, I’ll be damned, thought Jake. Thanks, Dad. Good advice. Thinking about the solution was what had tripped his memory, and it really did look like he’d probably found the right place.

Now that he was here, past a magical veil, he could feel the area crawling with evil magic.

He hid in the bushes about a hundred yards away from a small, old stone building in the middle of the woods. It looked like it’d been half ruins at some point, but had been restored recently, probably with the help of magic. Rocks had been stacked up and fused together to patch up walls. A new chimney jutted above the roof line.

The truck Jake had seen a few hours ago local time was parked nearby. Now he knew why the drivers had been out at night. They had been serving things far more dangerous and scary than any random, roaming monsters.

Jake could smell the thick, cloying scent of blood from where he crouched. Some of it was fresh. He thought he could see the tips of some fingers sticking up from the bed of the truck. Corpses.

Two more bodies wearing Macon Protectors’ uniforms were lying on the ground in front of the stone building’s door, throats and wrists torn open. And flanking the building were two fissure witches.

Jake’s blood ran cold as he examined them. They were different-looking than any he’d seen before, definitely more vampiric, but still unmistakable. Something like these things must have been what Trosist was trying to oversee the creation of—the ritual that Jake had disrupted.

They were tall and gaunt, with narrow waists but wide shoulders. Their faces were demonic and ugly, almost bat-like. Long, hanging arms tipped with claws drooped unnaturally low, past the knee. They had leathery skin and it was patterned black and grey. Big ears swiveled around. Their eyes and second set of ears were human.

Jake was still debating what to do when Trosist walked out of the building. The mage moved between the two fissure witches. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Heavenly Grim! I know you’re out there! Why don’t you come join us?” The evil god’s champion smiled as he turned in a semicircle. “I know you can hear me! Why don’t you come have a chat? We can be civilized beings, can’t we?”

The fissure witches both jerked like they’d been pulled by an invisible string, seemingly shocked by the announcement. They prowled to both sides of the building, their big bat ears pointing in different directions. Energy gathered around their bodies, forming a heatwave effect.

Trosist put his hands on the fissure witches’ shoulders. “Peace, friends. Just be patient. We want to talk to our guest, not fight with him.”

The two unnatural things settled down but still looked hyper alert. Neither of them spoke or looked directly at Trosist. Their body language communicated fear. They subtly shied away from the dark champion.

Jake narrowed his eyes and carefully studied his enemy. Trosist definitely looked better than the last time Jake had seen him. It hadn’t even been an hour, though. What in the... he thought. Then he glanced at the bodies on the ground and made the connection. Fucking vampires.

The mage had obviously at least partially recovered, which was bad. Trosist suddenly waved a hand, creating a purple orb that buzzed directly at Jake before hovering over his head. “Oh, there you are!” he crowed. Trosist waved again, creating a magic circle that formed a sizzling bolt of violet plasma streaking for Jake’s head.

Uh oh.

Jake’s enhanced mind gave him time to think while the missile flew at him. His tentative plan before actually seeing the shack had been to use his go-to strategy of burning stuff down, preferably with Trosist in the building. But now he wasn’t in control of the situation, and being discovered like this was almost the worst thing that could happen.

He was tapped out, energy-wise. Exhausted. His muscles screamed in agony. The moment extended—he was burning what little reserves of energy he had to stretch out the moment—but he was truly almost out of time. He had a decision to make.

Should he run?

No, that would be pointless. They’d catch him anyway.

Jake drew a sword from his storage ring as he flash-stepped forward. He buzzed past the magic attack and swung savagely, using the last of his energy to apply Lunar Dao Polishing to his weapon.

All or nothing! he thought, baring his teeth. Then his stomach flipped as his enemy blocked with his staff.

Trosist smiled a predatory smile.

Shit, Jake thought. His heart sank. He didn’t have anything left to give.

“Subdue him. No killing.”

The next thing Jake knew, he was being pummeled by the two fissure witches. Their claws tore his skin, and their fists rained down without mercy.

It felt like the beating lasted a lifetime before Trosist stepped in. “Stop. Tie him up.” He chuckled and the mage’s eyes glittered at Jake on the ground. “You coming here was a lucky stroke for me. Thank you for your consideration! Considering you are the one who has caused me so many problems, it’s only appropriate.”

Jake couldn’t reply. He’d already been gagged. Instead, he glared daggers at the mage.

The fissure witches dragged him inside and dumped him on the floor in a circle set into the floor. They manacled his wrist, the attached chain running into the floor.

Jake was standing on a large, dark stain. He wondered how many people had died in this spot over the last few days.

One of the fissure witches took one last swing at Jake.

He tried to block but was only half successful, and the silent monster’s big fist still caught him in the head. Then the two fissure witches plodded over to their own circles under Trosist’s orders.

One entire side of the room was practically covered in old, dried blood. Splatters of it were even on the ceiling. In the center of it all was an ugly stone altar. The air was full of arcane energy. It practically crawled all over Jake’s body.

Other than Trosist, the fissure witches, and Jake, there was only one other person in the building—one of the Macon Protectors. He was middle-aged, average-looking, and seemed remarkably composed despite being the only human within a quarter mile and surrounded by monsters. The man wore a large gold necklace covered in mystic sigils. His hands were caked in dried blood, maybe from a fresh corpse in the corner, but that could have been Trosist’s handiwork too. It looked like Trosist had actually killed most of the Macon Protectors that had been on-site—drained them dry. This last one must have helped.

He had to be a priest of Tlaloc.

Over the altar hung a large, misty oval, crackling with energy.

While the mage and fissure witches were distracted, Jake weighed his options. One hand was free, so he casually removed his gag to see if any of his captors would notice. None of them reacted.

The manacle on his wrist completely cut off all of his power, everything. If he’d had more energy, maybe he could have resisted, but there wasn’t any more fuel in his tank. He couldn’t even access his storage ring.

But monsters being monsters, when the fissure witches had beat him up and clamped him in the obviously magical manacle, they never even checked his pockets.

Jake had a 9mm pistol concealed in a pocket holster—a compact but potent little Sig P365. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do much with it right now. If he survived this situation, he vowed to keep a handful of useful things in his pockets from now despite having a spacial storage ring.

Attacking the fissure witches or Trosist with his pistol would be useless. Jake might be able to commit suicide with it, but he was honestly not sure if he could kill himself fast enough with a pistol to make it count, since he was still a Gold-level Body Refinement cultivator. Maybe a regular human would die fast enough, but he likely wouldn’t.

Jake was surrounded by enough raw dark magic to fry an egg. If Trosist didn’t want him to die, Jake doubted he could actually escape that way, at least not without a more potent way to commit suicide.

And ultimately, suicide was not an option anyway. Jake was really, really bad at giving up.

Maybe there was still a way to fuck up Trosist’s plan. There was at least one thing he could do.

Jake drew his pistol, aimed at the only human in the room, and managed to rattle off six rounds. The first shot wiped the blood-soaked Macon Protector’s smug expression off his face as the bullet punched right through his nose and out the back of his head. Two 9mm projectiles hit center mass. One hit the man’s shoulder. Another hit him in the stomach.

The last round missed as a fissure witch pounced on Jake like lightning, snatching away the firearm as another big fist slammed his head into the ground.

Jake’s restrained arm was wrenched around as he was beaten again. Trosist yelled something, raging, but Jake couldn’t understand it. His world was pain. Underneath it all, he endured, holding on to the spark of satisfaction that he’d definitely killed the human cultist. There was no way a regular human could have lived after getting a bullet to the brain. Hell, not many supernatural things could either.

And sure enough, when Jake came to again, he saw the still, blood-covered form of the dead priest in the back corner of the building. The fissure witches were both back where Trosist had originally told them to stand. One of them was staring at the new Protector corpse with a hungry expression. It looked like the freshly-killed man hadn’t been drained.

Meanwhile, Trosist knelt before the stone block and said out loud, “Great Lord Tlaloc! I apologize for this early summoning, but without it, we would fail! The situation has changed! Too many sacrifices are dying too early! Please accept this humble working early and bring your world to this unworthy place!”

Magical script, written in blood, lit up all around the room. The scene was starting to remind Jake a little bit of the apartment where he’d first met Trosist’s puppet.

Jake’s head spun. He hadn’t ever felt quite like this. His... Everything hurt.

He actually wished he were still a zombie at that moment, especially when the oval at the end of the room flashed and Tlaloc manifested.

It was a much stronger sending than the first time he’d seen the god, and Jake felt like sandpaper was being run over his soul. The sensation was terrible, and the pain was spiritual, so he couldn’t escape it.

The evil god growled, “I smell blood that has not been shed in my name.” His gaze moved to the dead priest on the floor. “I also smell failure. More of it. Speak, Trosist. Explain.”

Trosist didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. He explained what had happened in Macon over the last few hours, touching on a few things Jake hadn’t been aware of as well. It seemed the Macon Protectors had actually been planning to summon Tlaloc’s realm in a couple more days, but because of Jake’s interference, they hadn’t been able to wait any longer. Jake lost consciousness a few times during Trosist’s hurried explanation, but he still caught the gist of it.

While he struggled to stay awake, Jake wondered why Tlaloc wasn’t there in the room physically, walking around like The Morrigan had been. Maybe he’d ask her if he could avoid being flayed alive or his soul destroyed by a dark god. That would be nice.

Part of him was aware that his mind was wandering. He tried to focus.

His consciousness came back a little stronger and he turned to see Trosist kneeling on the floor, facing the sending of Tlaloc. “Rain Lord, please, tell me what else I can do to make this right. Tell me how I can serve you!” His voice was not nearly as confident as usual.

“I already have, creature.” The ugly, toad-like god snarled, pulling back his upper lip from blocky teeth. “Your task was simple, but you have failed more than once. The ritual requires three creatures, blessed with my power. A sacrifice of three.”

“Yes, but we have him!” Trosist gestured at Jake on the floor. Behind him, the two fissure witches eyes were wide with fear, and they strained against purple rings of energy that held them silently in standing positions.

Tlaloc shot Jake a withering glance. “Although it pleases me that this insolent creature has been captured and bled in my honor, he cannot be prepared for the sacrifice without the high priest present. And the high priest is dead. You let him die.”

Jake only barely restrained himself from letting loose an exhausted, gurgled chuckle. It didn’t take a genius to realize that drawing attention to himself now would be bad. At least the priest was dead.

Yes. Score, Jake thought tiredly. He was definitely feeling loopy. His only motivation to kill the human had been to exterminate a psycho. Jake had just gotten lucky. Who knew being a stubborn asshole would work so well in his favor one day?

He coughed up some blood onto the already fluid-soaked floor.

Jake lost consciousness for a few minutes, but came back to reality as three unearthly screams shocked him awake. The sound made his brain want to leave his skull.

What the…

Both fissure witches and Trosist were enveloped with purple fire, being burned alive. Lines of force ran from each monster’s heart to the altar. Behind it, Tlaloc watched his servants be consumed with a stony expression.

Suddenly, the screams cut off even as the three figures continued to be burned alive. A couple minutes later, nothing remained of them but a pile of ash.

The god noticed that Jake had woken up and turned. “I am glad you are here to see this. Now that I am more fully invested in your realm, I can see your titles clearly. Impressive.”

He isn’t insta-killing me, Jake thought with surprise. In the heat of the moment in the past, he’d taunted this god. There was zero chance that Tlaloc had forgotten about that. I need to get it together.

His tired, abused brain tried to move, to formulate thoughts and words. “Thank you. What would be a reasonable way to address you, given our circumstances?”

“You should call me ‘Master’ or ‘Great Lord.’”

“Please forgive my lack of proper etiquette with this question, but what should I call you while remaining neutral?”

The god ground his teeth and flared his nostrils. “Lord Tlaloc.”

“Very well, Lord Tlaloc.” Jake highly doubted that being polite was going to significantly change anything, but spitting defiance right now wouldn’t give him any benefit either. Since Jake was currently chained to the floor, in the epicenter of a major dark magic working, he needed to stow the snark.

There were worse fates than death. He knew that for a fact. Jake really didn’t need two evil gods harboring a rage boner for him, but he was getting a sinking feeling that there wasn’t much he could do at this point to stop it.

Now was the time to think, not scream insults.

Tlaloc growled. “I will make this simple, creature. Work for me. Give me your soul. Become my champion. If you do, I will let you live. As my champion, when I bring my kingdom to this place, you will immediately earn the right to be a Hero Candidate of your world. Refusing this honor would be the gravest insult and will result in eternal suffering.”

Oh shit, Jake thought. Oh shit. A direct question. He tried to dodge it. “May I have time to think about your generous offer, Lord Tlaloc?”

“No, and you are lucky that I am not choosing to take offense by the very fact you asked that question. Your choice should be obvious.”

God damnit, thought Jake. Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound. The god was giving him no way to escape his wrath unless Jake gave up his soul and became Tlaloc’s champion... and that was not going to happen.

He wanted to point at the dying Trosist and ask what other benefits being a champion could have, like perhaps burning to death in magical fire. Maybe after that, he could call Tlaloc a frog-faced piece of shit who got his rocks off on killing children, but none of that would actually matter, and it would just be sure to make the god angrier.

When people are at the end of their rope, spitting defiance can definitely be a way to feel better about giving up.

But Jake hadn’t given up. Not yet. He wanted to destroy his enemies, not yell at them.

“I must respectfully decline, Lord Tlaloc.”

“This is twice that you have directly defied me.”

“Yes, Lord Tlaloc.” Jake kept his tone respectful, but didn’t try to evade the accusation. Lying to a god was not an option. Words had power. If he told Tlaloc that he would serve him, he might actually be compelled to.

“So be it. You might be assuming that there is nothing I can do, at least not until part of my domain has come to your world. If so, you are wrong.” The god smiled, his eyes lighting up. “That manacle on your wrist is imbued with my power, created from iron mined in my domain.”

Jake swallowed. Uh oh.

His plan really had been for the god to ignore him, planning to deal with Jake later. That would have given him the chance to slink away and figure out some way to stop the massive ritual magic working in progress. Every moment the evil energy swirled around, building new pathways, growing. It was so strong that a regular person might even be able to see some of it with the naked eye at this point.

With no warning, a searing pain radiated through Jake’s left wrist. The manacle had grown white hot. His flesh almost instantly began to burn.

He screamed.

Somehow, the searing heat was penetrating all the way through his body, touching his spirit.

“If you live, you will be in my kingdom and I will own you. My power is currently attaching itself to your soul. If you die, I will be able to find you. Either way, I will still have you. And now, I will give you a great gift, allowing you to perfectly view the destruction of those you failed to protect.”

Jake’s arm rose into the air. The chain to the floor snapped. Jake couldn’t pull away. His restraint felt as solid as a mountain as it hovered. He could smell his own flesh burning.

Then his manacle rose further, taking him with it.

A new level of agony invaded Jake’s mind, body, and spirit. He desperately tried to rotate his cultivation base, but it didn’t work. The manacle suppressed all of his power and kept flooding him with fiery pain. All of his weight hanging from his arm actually pressed his flesh into the manacle, making the pain worse. And something about the device prevented him from losing consciousness now too.

He had never wanted to pass out so badly before in his life.

The manacle kept rising, kept moving. Jake’s eyes were squeezed shut tightly while he screamed. His gasps made his entire chest heave. A few times, he’d tried to grab on to the manacle with his other hand, but the heat burned his fingers. He couldn’t get any leverage to pull himself up. His other hand eventually went to his arm below the manacle, trying futilely to pull his arm out.

Finally, the sensation of movement stopped, and he heard a booming voice. Tlaloc said, “Now see your champion, small things. See him and despair!”

Jake slowly forced his eyes open with an effort of sheer will and wasn’t even surprised by how high in the air he was, nor that the sky was completely covered in dark clouds now, blocking every bit of sunlight.

He was not shocked that an image of him was on the clouds.

Reality twisted. He could actually watch himself while he suffered.

His mind threatened to break.

No, he thought. Fuck this guy.

That tiny bit of rebellion kindled a spark in his heart. He might not be a perfect man, he definitely didn’t always make the best decisions, but he was Jacob Hessian Mazzariello, dammit!

“I never give up,” he mumble-coughed. His mom and dad taught him that lesson a long time ago.

If you aren’t born with looks, or money, or talents, you’ve got to rely on grit. Jake had known this fact for most of his life.

He forced himself past the pain to think of the solution, not the problem. It was actually hard to think at all, but Jake could be stubborn as hell.

He wasn’t going to let Tlaloc win, despite the fact that he was a god. No, because he was a god. How could any being have all that power and still require the sacrifice of children? It offended Jake on a deep, primal level.

Jake glanced up at his limb, the flesh beneath the manacle. Ugly, glowing, purple discoloration was growing from under the accursed thing, invading his arm. Tlaloc truly was marking him.

It was energy. Evil energy.

Jake shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth. Endless minutes passed while he tried to force his mind to work, and eventually it paid off.

He wanted to smile but was afraid he might break something in his mouth or bite himself.

With deliberate care, he began to use the Four Winds of Heaven Purification technique, grinding his soul against the power raging into him from the manacle, processing it through willpower alone. He couldn’t access his cultivation base, but that was fine. This was an effort to stay alive, not get stronger. Most of the power he processed vented into the air, but he was able to hang on to a tiny bit of it, making a kernel of power grow.

And now he could think. The pain was still there but had lessened significantly.

Jake opened his eyes again, taking in his surroundings. Down below, violet lines of magic were crisscrossing Macon like ley lines. From his vantage point, he could see how all the glowing bits were part of an enormous magic circle. He felt a moment of sorrow for all the people who had died, been murdered to make the thing.

Down below, near the mall, was a huge misty oval, like a bigger version of the one Jake had seen in the stone altar building. It was like the thing Tlaloc had manifested in. The oval was getting larger as he watched, and he realized this must be the transition point, where a patch of Earth would trade places with Tlaloc’s realm.

The image on the clouds continued to show Jake’s struggling form, suspended in midair. Behind it, Tlaloc’s eyes burned.

Jake looked down again and could feel the god watching him from the portal manifesting on the ground too.

He was really high up. His situation looked hopeless on the surface, but now he could think. And if he could think, there was still hope.

“This is really going to hurt,” he said with a growl.

Jake harnessed the tiny kernel of power he’d built using Four Winds of Heaven Purification. He applied Lunar Dao Polishing to the claw on his free hand, making it sharp as it could be. Every scrap of power he’d cobbled together went into the Lunar Dao Polishing, making it as strong as possible for only one or two seconds.

He was surprised how little resistance there was as he severed his own wrist right below the manacle.

Tlaloc’s voice hissed and growled overhead, but Jake ignored it. Instead, he looked below at the widening portal, thinking about his options. With the manacle off of his arm, he could use his power now... what little he had left. His spirit felt poisoned by the energy the manacle had been dumping into him. Luckily, he could still cycle his cultivation base. And his connection to his artifacts reasserted itself. The Midnight Cloak billowed behind him, arresting his fall, even slower than a parachute.

He thought desperately, trying to figure out some way to stop what was happening below.

And then the answer hit him. My artifacts, Jake thought slowly. He grinned nastily and instructed the Midnight Cloak to drift him directly over the misty portal below. “Eat this,” he snarled. He waved a hand, opening his storage ring. Thousands of pieces of cut stone from the Challenge Portal trial dimension rained below, each weighing several hundred pounds up to a few tons each.

Less than half a minute later, the first of the rock hit the portal. The area around the mall was pummeled by Jake’s makeshift bombs. He took satisfaction in the fact that all the refugees would either be gone from that area or dead now. If he was killing any people, they’d all be Macon Protectors.

Tlaloc’s voice roared in the sky, and the portal swirled like a boiling lake. More stones pummeled the ground, striking with earth-shaking force, and the god’s voice grew enraged. Jake spotted the manacle floating toward him in the air. He drew a shotgun from his storage ring and blasted the awful thing out of the sky with 00 buckshot.

Giant, sword-cut boulders kept falling from his ring, close to a year’s worth of work. Jake realized that the stones were actually slowly turning to dust as soon as he took them out of his storage, but each was large enough that they still had plenty of mass when they struck the ground. On top of that, his mage sight caught tremors in the ether. The stone’s composition was actually interfering directly with the magic feeding and forming the portal.

Tlaloc’s voice was frantic now, and Jake listened. The god was shouting, “How dare you! This is prophesied. It is promised! How dare—”

A bright light flashed from the ground, traveling all the way to the sky. Clouds blocking the sun were burned away. Sunlight flooded Macon below, and the lines of magic that had been crisscrossing the city began to fade like a bad memory.

Jake stopped dropping rocks. He didn’t have much left in his storage ring anyway.

I guess I did something good, huh? Better late than never. The thought lingered before he savagely corrected himself. He’d failed his family, but he knew his mother and father would be proud of him. Admitting this made his heart ache. It was bittersweet. The fight for Macon wasn’t entirely over, but Jake wasn’t in any kind of shape to be participating anymore.

Before his eyes closed in exhaustion, he commanded his cloak to drift him somewhere isolated.

Maybe he could still avoid being eaten or killed or something even worse. He was so weak now that he wasn’t even sure how durable his body would be anymore.

It would really suck to survive pissing off an evil god... twice... only to be eaten by a run-of-the-mill ghoul.

That would be ironic, though, Jake thought.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 36

He woke up on a bed of weird, fluffy moss near a pool of still water. Its surface was like smoky glass. A weeping willow with white limbs stood nearby, and bushes ringed it like silent soldiers. The edges of their leaves glittered in the dimness. Even from a distance, Jake could tell they were razor sharp.

Grass lined the pond, all in dark colors. A thick forest surrounded the little glen with the pond.

There were no noises coming from the surroundings. Everything was silent, still as the grave.

Swords were stuck in the ground in clumps, like they were growing there.

After sitting up, Jake checked his body and frowned. He wasn’t injured. Then he checked his cultivation base and explored his dantian before nodding slowly. What he was registering didn’t make any sense. He could feel his soul and his body, but he couldn’t actually move any power around, or even feel any physical damage.

He’d experienced things like this before. The other times had been a little different, but the similarities led him to conclude he was in this place spiritually, and it was likely the domain of a powerful entity. He could guess which, so when he turned and saw The Morrigan lightly stepping toward him with a smile, he wasn’t surprised.

And just like that, the scenery changed. Instead of a twilight glade, the two of them were surrounded by a dark, shattered city. Fires burned on the ground casting light. The Morrigan elegantly settled herself on the hood of a ruined car and crossed her legs.

“Now I can officially welcome you to the Eternal Struggle. You have exceeded every expectation I had of you. Smashed them, actually.” She golf-clapped.

“Thank you, Lady,” Jake warily replied.

She waved his thanks away. “You know why I am here, don’t you?”

“I believe so, Lady.” And he did. Jake had had a lot of time to think in Swampland, and this potential meeting was one of the things he’d imagined and planned for. “I assume you’ve been watching.”

“Of course. I have seen everything.” She smiled. “As such, I know that, while you have technically violated our agreement when Tlaloc propositioned you, it was both outside of your control and also happened before you had actually earned the right to be a Hero Candidate.”

“And if I’d accepted Tlaloc’s proposal, I am sure you would have been my enemy from that point onward.”

“Of course.”

“I thought so.” Jake shook his head ruefully. “Accepting his offer would have been dumb anyway, but even dumber considering that.”

“You promised me an audience after you become a Hero Candidate.” Morrigan shrugged.

Jake pursed his lips. “‘Hero Candidate.’ It’s actually a new title, isn’t it, Lady?”

“Indeed. You have accomplished a great feat on your world.” She recrossed her legs. “So, I have come to speak to you before any others, as per our agreement.”

Jake nodded slowly. “I am here in spirit, correct, Lady?”

“Correct.”

“And I’m assuming you were able to do so because of our agreement.”

“Correct. Without the ties that have been forged, I would have no right to transport you here to a place adjacent to my realm.”

“And you have already provided support.”

“Indeed.”

Jake opened his mouth slowly, but then shut it again. “Is this area secure?” He caught the goddess’ eyes narrowing a fraction. “To be clear, I mean no offense, I only mean to verify that this conversation is private.”

“Yes. It is.”

“Good. Then before we continue, I would like to establish where we stand, favor-wise. As per your own words, I owe you nothing for the knowledge you gave me, since it was in return for my weapons you caused me to lose before. However, we have never addressed the other help you gave me.”

“I am surprised you know about that.” The Morrigan arched an elegant eyebrow. “But concealing several of your titles has benefitted me as much as you, so we are balanced on that account as well.”

“You...no, what…” Jake collected himself. “That was not what I was speaking of, Lady.” Honesty was the best policy for this meeting. “I was talking about the cat.”

“Cat? What cat?”

“The black cat that appeared after I’d first become a zombie. It spoke and gave some simple advice.”

Morrigan blinked. “Interesting. Your words have the ring of truth, and yet I never witnessed this in your timeline. It must have been hidden from me.” She pursed her lips. “Other gods, no, at least one greater than myself has had an interest in you even before I made contact.”

“So that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

Jake mentally adjusted. That’s right, the cat did say something about praying, didn’t it? His memories from the first day he was a zombie were still a little hazy. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to bring up, though.

Telling The Morrigan about the cat might actually benefit him. Now that they both knew he’d gotten divine help before Morrigan had even met him, perhaps Jake’s value had gone up.

“So, what now, Lady?”

“Now we dicker.” She smiled. “My intentions should be clear.”

“Yes, they are.” Jake thought about his survival during his second life, how he’d barely avoided complete ruin a few times at least partially due to the knowledge that The Morrigan had put in his head. He didn’t technically owe her anything, since she’d used a loophole of giving him something in return for his “lost” weapons, but he knew—and she knew—that part of the reason he’d survived was due to her help.

It was possible he might have made it to this point on his own, but not likely. Jake’s father had taught him to pay his debts. He had a feeling his father hadn’t considered owing a favor to a dark goddess, though.

Thinking of his father reminded him to focus, to get his head in the game.

“Before we negotiate, could you hear a question and a request, Lady?”

“Continue.”

“Thank you. Can we both acknowledge that you wish for me to be your champion?”

Even though he was stating the obvious, Jake understood why The Morrigan paused. Admitting her goal in such a straightforward way was not beneficial for her from a bargaining perspective. But eventually, she confirmed, “Yes, I desire you to become my champion.”

“Alright, thank you, Lady. Then I believe my request is fairly simple and will save us some time.”

Morrigan tapped her lips with a finger. “I’m listening.”

Jake took a breath and plunged ahead. “Please give me your word that if we come to an agreement about me becoming your champion, that the terms will be generous... in my favor.”

There was a moment of silence. The goddess rested her chin in her hand and stared at Jake with an inscrutable expression. When she spoke again, her voice was entirely neutral. “You are right, this would speed things up. However, even by your wording, if I were to agree to this, any deal would be made to most benefit you. Why should I agree to such a thing?”

Jake crossed his arms and tried to project self-confidence.

It was only partially faked.

He’d had a year to think about this, and no matter how he tried to poke holes in his logic, he hadn’t been able to. “Because you want me to work for you, and the moment this sending, or projection, or illusion, or whatever this is, ends, I’m going to be contacted by who knows how many gods that will either try to destroy me, or engage in some sort of bidding war, or both. Up until this point, only you have really known about my existence. Tlaloc saw a few of my titles before I fucked up his portal, and even he made me an offer on the spot. Before that point, he’d likely been planning to destroy me… for good reason too. But he offered me a job.”

Morrigan pursed her lips. “As you said, you will be in danger and might not make it out of the feeding frenzy alive.” She waved her hand. “What makes you think you will survive?”

“Ah, but that would be my concern, and if you are rejected, you will still have lost, right?”

Morrigan’s eyes glittered, but she smiled slowly and simply replied, “Point.”

Jake felt himself relax a bit. Part of the purpose of this conversation had been to test The Morrigan, push her a bit to see how she’d react. Dark or light, Jake didn’t want to work for any god that might behave like a toddler or lose their temper over simple things, especially while the conversation was otherwise respectful.

The goddess regarded Jake a while longer before giving a graceful shrug. “Fine. You truly are clever, just like the first time we met. My primary motivation is to triumph with you, to make you my champion, so I will play along.”

I wonder if she expects me to catch that she didn’t list any of her motivations past the primary one, thought Jake. Out loud, he asked, “So you swear?”

“Yes. I swear on my mantle that if we strike a deal in this place, it will be more generous—in your favor—for these sorts of agreements, on average, based on my perception.”

That’s... not bad, and probably the best I’m going to get, thought Jake. Whether he liked it or not, he was part of this Eternal Struggle now. He could have walked away from Macon before, but if he had, what would he have done with himself? Just roam around the world as a monster? Find an adventurer group that would work with him?

He’d thought about a lot of things in Swampland. This path was the only one he’d been able to figure would actually allow him to help his slain family.

“Alright, Lady,” he said. “Then I—”

“No, please. Hold your words. First, I wish to explain a few more realities, and my potential intention for your advancement.”

Jake was taken aback, but could appreciate the gesture and the polite tone the goddess was using. “I’m listening.”

She nodded. “You are not the only hero of this world, or won’t be. Eventually. I’m sure you have figured this out. The impact you have made will create a ripple effect. If you are my champion, I will invest in you. Some gods choose many champions. I almost never even choose one. Quality over quantity for me. And this world is no longer most appropriate for your development.”

“So, if I were your champion, you would send me to another world?”

“Yes.”

“Immediately?”

“Yes. As you have said, your actions in Macon, Georgia will have caught the attention of other gods. Some will be wishing for your demise, especially if you have chosen to be my champion. Most other dark gods are not my allies.”

“I understand.” Jake quirked a smile. This conversation was like a business deal in a way, but he appreciated the heads-up. “What would my job be if I were your champion?”

“That is a good question, Jacob Mazzariello.” The goddess used his full name for the first time. “Your purpose will be to shake up any world you are on, to accomplish great things, spread your renown, but most importantly, to become stronger. The day will come that you will need to fight again on your home world, to protect it. As you are now, you would not even last a moment.”

Jake thought briefly about the dragon in Colorado and conceded she had a point. “Alright, I understand.”

“Then you may proceed. Please continue what you were saying before.”

“Alright. This is how I see it, Lady,” Jake said. He paused. Everything rested on how The Morrigan reacted to the next thing he said. “I think it would be most efficient for me to tell you the minimum concessions that I would need from you to be your champion. Then you can add things to make it a generous deal for me, and we can go from there.”

“Hmm. I understand your intention. Proceed.” The goddess brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her horns suddenly reminded Jake a bit of his own.

“May I write them down to show you so I don’t forget anything?”

“Of course.” A paper and pen appeared in midair. Jake scrawled down all of the terms he had committed to memory before handing them over.

As the goddess began to read, Jake mentally went over what he’d written again:

1. I will keep my soul, and my soul will never be used as a bargaining chip.

2. My status as your champion will not be permanent. I will work for you for three years, and some time prior to the end of three years, but no earlier than halfway, we will meet and discuss potentially extending our relationship.

3. You will not interfere with my choices other than to provide guidance or advice. My life will be my own, and I will not take orders. And to be fair, I will only be able to call on you three times during the three years that I am your champion.

4. I have my sister’s soul in my storage ring. Her body died, but I was able to somehow interrupt her death. If my understanding of this event is correct, and I truly was able to preserve my sister’s personality and soul, I want her to be reborn on another world. The world she is reborn on should be safe, and should be under the jurisdiction of the light. Her new body should either be the same age as when she died or younger. Aldina should retain her memories, her soul, and receive some advantage within her new world to help guarantee her safety. And after she receives her new body, she should be informed of this agreement so she is not confused.

5. My current, physical body has been damaged. You will heal me and repair my body if I become your champion.

6. I will keep all of the monster evolutionary knowledge you have traded me before to pay for my lost weapons. In addition, I will be able to call on you three times to receive knowledge of a single subject in a similar fashion.

Jake had known better than to ask for direct power. If gods could just give their power out willy-nilly, Trosist would have ripped him apart without any effort. His terms were all more or less technically possible for this sort of deal.

He knew he was pushing it, of course. His list was all a little outrageous, but so was his situation.

Jake knew the second point would be the hardest to sell, but he had to push for this one. The reality was that he would likely get the best deal by working with The Morrigan. Now was the time to swing for the fences. She was trying to recruit him early. He’d actually wanted to make his enlistment term only a single year, but that likely would have been impossible.

The fourth point, the one about Aldina, would not come cheap, and he was willing to work for it.

His demand for Aldina’s reincarnation might have sounded the most complex to someone not versed in magical arts. Luckily, he knew the reincarnation itself shouldn’t be too difficult for The Morrigan. Gods had done similar things on Earth during his first lifetime. But the tough part might be how he’d specifically demanded a world under the light, something he hadn’t even known was a thing until his second life. Jake actually wasn’t sure how possible this specific part was.

He’d included point number five on the fly.

Morrigan skimmed the paper several times before looking up. Her eyes were full of amusement, annoyance, and maybe even a bit of respect. “All of this is possible. I agree to all of the terms you have written on this piece of paper if you enter a pact with me. In addition, in order to make the deal favorable for you, I will add…”

She stopped talking and stood still for a minute, only blinking.

The goddess finally continued, “I will transform your most used weapon, a saber in your storage ring, into an enchanted sword appropriate for your new role. You will likely never find one better. In addition to other terms, you will be able to call on me for one favor, at which time if you convince me, I might grant it.

“You will attain an affinity for at least one aspect of my mantle. Perhaps more than one with training. And lastly, if you reach the cultivation stage of Reforged Body, you may ask for my assistance with the finalization of this stage.”

Jake was absolutely blown away. His jaw dropped, and he hastily closed his mouth.

“Do you have any objections so far with anything I have suggested?” asked the goddess.

“Uh, no, Lady.”

“Good.” She smiled and her shoulders seemed to relax. “Three local years is not a lot of time. However, you have demanded three years, and I am potentially accepting your terms. Due to your development and path, the most logical place to send you from here would be the world of Murim. The lowest level of that world is one level above your own, so it would be a good place for you to grow. In fact, I will be sending you directly to the person on that world who most resonates with the foundation of your current power. Do you understand?”

Jake’s old teacher told him he’d been the only person in the Murim world who practiced the Four Winds of Heaven Purification technique. “Yes, so long as where you transport me to will not be immediately dangerous.”

“Yes, your transition will be safe. Now that we both understand each other, do you have any objections to our proposed bargain?”

Jake tried to hold back a grin. He’d gotten everything he’d asked for and then some. As the saying went, sometimes you have to get while the getting is good. He couldn’t believe he’d ever get a deal as good as this again, not in a thousand years.

“No. If this is going to be our agreement, everything I wrote on the paper and all of the terms you have communicated as well, I will accept becoming your champion.”

“Excellent. Swear it on your name, your true name.”

“I, Jacob Hessian Mazzariello, do swear on my life and soul to become the champion of the goddess The Morrigan, so long as she keeps her side of the bargain that we have struck.” Some of the old words learned during mage training in his first life came back easily.

“Then I, The Morrigan, accept Jacob Hessian Mazzariello as my champion. So long as he serves faithfully, honoring this covenant, I swear on my mantle that our bargain shall remain unbroken.”

The goddess stood and moved directly in front of Jake. This close, her beauty and power were completely overwhelming. “It is done,” she purred.

The last thing Jake saw before the world went dark was the goddess’ glowing eyes. “Let’s work well together, Jake. I am excited to see what more you can accomplish for me.”

Her chuckles followed him into oblivion.

Chapter 37

When Jake became aware of his surroundings again, he was sitting in a wooden chair in some sort of log cabin. His body felt incredibly strange. A new sensation crackled through his brain like lightning, but was somehow elusive. When he tried to look inward and figure out what it was, it vanished.

His energy was all over the place in general. Not only did he feel different internally, something seemed to be weighing on him too. He distantly remembered The Morrigan explaining that moving “higher” in dimensions was hard on those from the lower realms... or something. His mind was feeling a little mixed up.

The building he was in looked like it’d been made of rough-hewn timer, very different from how he’d imagined the Murim world would look. He’d been expecting bamboo, not pine. The wooden floor was mostly bare. Most of the furniture had been pulled to the walls, and standing in some sort of glowing array was his master from his first life, Master Zi.

Jake stood, cupping his fist in his palm and bowing politely. “Student greets his teacher.” He glanced up, and noted that the hand he’d cut off had been replaced with another. The new hand looked almost like rubber, or maybe hard tar.

Ironically, it was actually more human-looking than Jake’s other hand now.

“I don’t know you. But don’t worry, I won’t kill you. I know your name is Jake. Your goddess already explained some things to me so I wouldn’t destroy you the moment you appeared.” The old man harumphed, blowing out his long mustache. “It is extremely disappointing to me that a student of mine from another timeline could be this stupid. A champion. Hah! And you are one strange-looking creature too. Shadow element? Yes, that must be it. You look like a humanoid demon beast, but have the soul of a mortal. Bizarre.”

Jake blinked as his mind caught up with what his ears had just heart. Another timeline? How the hell…

“Did The Morrigan tell you that, Master?”

The short, unkempt old man waved a hand irritably. Liver spots on his arm flashed in the light filtered through the rice paper covering the windows. “Watch what names and titles you throw around, fool! Especially in my home! No, she did not tell me this. I have eyes to see, don’t I? I can sense your energy. The bond between master and student is such that I can sense something lingering. It didn’t take too much to figure it out. I’m sure if your goddess hasn’t said anything about it, it’s just to help you make stupid decisions. Gods are good at that.”

Jake was used to his master’s attitude, so he wasn’t surprised at all by the reception he was getting. “She sent me here to train, to grow, I guess. Since you are here, I would like to learn from you... if you will teach me again.”

Master Zi sighed theatrically. “How could I have chosen such a dull apprentice? Can’t you see the glowing lines on the floor? I will be gone in moments.”

“...What?”

“Let me guess. You come from a world overrun by evil, the dark, a lower dimension than this one. And I accepted you as a student on a whim.” The old man ran one side of his mustache through his fingers. “Oh, do not try to cross the lines on the floor. They will destroy you. Gods make dimensional travel look like walking to the market, but that’s because they cheat.”

“What?” Jake shook his head. If he couldn’t keep up with his master, the crotchety old man might just stop talking altogether until he felt like it again. “Yes, that is how we met. I actually gave you a bottle of water and you said you were bored, so you wanted to give me a demonstration of cultivation techniques. When I asked why, you said it was because circle magic on my world was trash. After I saw what you could do, I asked to be your student. You said you were still so bored that even teaching an idiot like me was better than nothing to pass the time.”

Jake’s master chuckled. “I figured it would be something like that. Well, I am actually about to head to your world right now. In your timeline, we would have been meeting in the future from this point.”

“That’s... I understand.”

Trippy, thought Jake. “Are you going to teach anyone else?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, since you are going to Earth, I actually have some recommendations for students, if you come across them.”

Master Zi moved one hand in a beckoning motion. “Put the thoughts at the top of your mind. I will gather them. Hurry up.”

Jake nodded. He was used to this. His master could read his mind after a fashion, but only if someone prepared information for him and thought about it a certain way.

A moment later, the old man announced, “Got it. Ugh. This is going to be dreadful. What a terrible planet.”

Jake wanted to change the subject before the grumpy fucker could start ranting about Earth again. He’d already heard enough of that for a lifetime. “If you don’t want to go, why are you going?” The glowing lines on the floor had gotten brighter. Jake pointed at them. “This is not a simple array, even I can tell that. It took you some effort.”

“Yes, well, the powers that be put out invitations, sometimes. When new worlds join the Eternal Struggle, rewards can be earned for acting as a ‘wandering trainer.’ That must have been why I was training you, boredom or no boredom. We get more consideration if we actually teach someone something.”

Jake rolled his eyes. He knew better than to snap at his teacher or lose his temper. The horrible old man loved to push people over their breaking point and then punish them for it later. He made a face. Being careful around gods was one thing, but he couldn’t completely hold his tongue with this old bastard. “Oh, come on, Master! I might not be strong for this world, but I am a Gold-level Body Refiner. And I’m a Hero Candidate. too. You have no idea what I went through to get here!”

“A world hero, eh? Very proud of that hero business, are you? A monkey on a string. Meat for the grinder. And Gold-level Body Refinement, ha! Yes, you are a Gold...but you were less than that in your first life, were you not? I can read the truth of it on your soul. Smell the old disappointment.”

The old man grunted. “I will admit you seem to have some potential now. If I didn’t have to leave in a few minutes, I might have actually been curious enough about what you are to teach you something. Pity.”

“Why don’t you just cancel the array?” asked Jake.

“Can’t. It is borrowing power. Not all my own. Trying to stop it now would destroy this entire mountain.”

Jake absently nodded before his gaze sharpened. “Wait! If you are leaving for sure, then what am I supposed to do? Is your sect here, master?”

“I told you that I have a sect?”

Jakes heart fell as he slowly replied, “Yes.”

“Oh. Well, I lied, then. Running a sect is too much trouble. Been there, done that. It’s irritating that I have to deal with this right now, but if I taught you in any timeline…” The old man grimaced and scratched one cheek. “I guess you can go find my granddaughter. She is training at some fourth-rate sect, likely an act of rebellion. The sect is on the shore of Gem Sword Lake, between the Mount Hua Sect, and the cavern of wailing souls. Her name is Alix. She owes me a favor, so if you find her, tell her I sent you. Alix can help you some, even though she follows a different Dao and you feel weak as a rabbit.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Dammit. What was I thinking, other self?”

Jake was somewhat impressed by his teacher’s easy acceptance of time being rewound, but not exactly surprised by it. “Is your granddaughter a dragon too, Master?”

The old man’s eyes flew open. “What!? How do you know that!?”

Jake chuckled. Got you! That’s right, motherfucker! he thought savagely.

The old bastard had never admitted to being a dragon in his first life, not once.

“You breathe out smoke when you snore sometimes.”

“I don’t snore!”

“That’s what you said in my lifetime too. And you do. Besides, when I was training with you, you went to Colorado once to find a dragon and yell at him because one of his kin owed you money. Or something.” Jake didn’t add that the experience had been one of the scariest of his first life.

He’d only known this man for half a year, but during that time, Jake had seen a great deal of the post-apocalypse world. Nothing on Earth could fuck with his master. The old man had fearlessly traveled wherever he’d wanted. Monsters had fled from him.

It was too bad Master Zi was so lazy and had such a terrible personality. He never seemed to do anything out of the goodness of his heart.

Being a dragon didn’t seem to have much to do with it, at least Jake didn’t think so. The old man could occasionally show great kindness, especially to children and the poor. But he never got off his ass to help out humanity as a whole, though, at least not while he was on Earth.

And he had just disappeared one day without even saying goodbye. Jake wanted to ask why, but this version of his master wouldn’t know.

Master Zi growled and a puff of smoke came from his nose. When he saw the grey shadow in front of his face, he just growled deeper. “I. Don’t. Snore.” He snorted and flicked his sleeve. “Just go find my granddaughter. Then you aren’t my problem anymore.”

Jake frowned. “Wait. Last time... or I guess in the future... when you were on my world... you weren’t even there for a full year. My contract with The Morri—with my goddess—is for three years. Why don’t I just wait here for you to come back? It’ll only be a few months, right?”

Master Zi went silent and still for a handful of second before laughing so hard, his eyes began to tear up. He slapped his side. “Three years? Oh my. Tell me, student, what exactly was your agreement with your goddess, hmm?”

“I would be her champion for three years.”

If Jake could blush, he would have been beet red. After all this time and everything he’d been through, his master could still make him very uncomfortable. He didn’t even know why he was feeling embarrassed. Something was tickling the back of his mind, though.

“Fool! You are a cultivator! What were her exact words?”

Jake grimaced and cycled his cultivation base. This was the first time he’d taken control of his energy in his new repaired body. Everything still felt weird, but he could at least send some power to his memory. “She said, and I quote: ‘Three local years is not a lot of time. However, you have demanded three years, and I am potentially accepting your terms. Due to your development and path, the most logical place to send you from here would be the world of Murim.’”

Master Zi drew in a big breath before laughing even harder. He slapped his thigh so hard, it almost sounded like gunshots.

When he seemed like he might be settling down again, he looked at Jake, pointed, and laughed again.

Jake was patient and didn’t say anything. He held his temper. Trying to talk to his master when he was like this was pointless, and he actually did want to hear what the codger might say.

Finally, Master Zi wheezed out, “Three ‘local years.’ Boy, we are in a higher plane of existence, and a different dimension! Time can run differently between planes and dimensions. This array is locked on your home world. I know of it. One year on your world is close to five hundred years here. Your goddess said three ‘local’ years. Fool, your agreement means that you will be a champion for 1,500 years in the Murim world.” He started laughing again.

The lines in the floor pulsed before growing so bright that Jake had to shade his eyes.

Master Zi disappeared in mid-laugh. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.

Jake stared woodenly at the spot on the floor his old master had just been standing on. “No wonder the terms were so good,” he whispered to himself. He thought back to the entire conversation, and could figure out exactly where the negotiation had gone south. Well, it hadn’t been entirely bad. He had still been promised a “good” deal and had no reason to think that hadn’t been true. It just meant the value of what he’d been given was greater than he’d imagined.

Fifteen hundred years, he thought. He moved to the door in a daze. Sunlight hit his face. If he’d been human, his eyes would have needed to adjust, but as a cultivator and a shadow ghoul, he could almost immediately see just fine.

Jake gasped. “No way,” he murmured. It looked like there was a floating island in the sky, a tropical rainforest on top. In the far distance were mountains larger than any Jake had ever seen or could imagine even existing. Huge trees grew to his left, against the slope of the mountain the cabin was built on. Thick, profound-feeling mist curled between the mountain he stood on and distant peaks.

A sudden screech made Jake turn his head, and his mouth went dry. Flying high in the sky was a bird with burning feathers. Its wingspan had to be at least half a mile. It was easily the largest creature Jake had ever seen, larger than any living thing should grow. Even from so far away, he could feel some of its awesome power. The majestic phoenix, because that was what it had to be, practically radiated magnificent energy. As large as it was, it flew impossibly quickly, disappearing into the distance after doing a circle over the distant peaks.

Jake gulped. His mind reeled. He retreated back into the building and his hand trembled as he closed the door. “Dorothy, we are not in Kansas anymore,” he whispered.

* * *

The story continues in Savage Webs,
book two of Apocalypse Cultivation

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