19. Krogoth

Chapter 19

Krogoth

Broken

I sit before a shrine to Dagdorix, trying to clear my mind and settle my nerves, but it’s proving difficult. How many years ago was I last here, one hundred and fifty, perhaps? It’s amusing to think all those decades past when I sat here waiting to face Gorexius in Krak-Tok. I wasn’t half as concerned, so full of pride and youthful disregard. Gods, how I wish I could summon the same attitude now.

Flashes of that deadly encounter come to mind, like unwelcome bolts of doubt. The War Chieftain had stood like a titan and as composed as unbreakable arcweave. The contest had been a farce; he toyed with me, easily avoiding my attacks and when I closed the distance, he gripped me in his massive hands, crushing me with his terrible strength.

He could have twisted and broken every bone in my body. But Astraxius had shouted from the crowd, begging and pleading for my life. I recall the sneer on his face as he threw me to the ground with a crashing thud before raking his razor-sharp claws down my body, a reminder of my defeat eternally carved into me. But Astraxius’ cries for mercy have led to this moment, another chance to save my people, if I have the strength to seize it.

I trace my fingers over the scars, feeling the uneven coarseness of them even now. How can I beat him? I’m more experienced now, and since meeting my beloved Pebbles, my Rush has surged to new heights. Will it be enough to bridge the massive gulf between us? A heavy sigh escapes me, stirring the slumbering beauty beside me, my Mortakin-Kis.

Pebbles looks adorable, with only her face peeking out from her thick venefex cloak she wrapped herself in. She lies atop a stone bench, snoring softly. I delicately brush a strand of her sheen brown hair from her closed eyes, studying every detail of her face, trying to burn every contour, every nuance into my memory to take with me when I rest with my ancestors for all eternity.

The night had been restless for us both. Sleep was elusive, and when it finally came, it brought troubled and fitful dreams. Poor Pebbles, emotionally drained from the day’s revelations and tensions, now finds solace in sleep, exhausted beyond measure.

Pebbles has grown more concerned after seeing the War Chieftain in person. Although she never spoke the words, I can see the doubt in her eyes and in her tone. Who could blame her after gazing upon the colossus? Yet, she has bravely stuck to her resolve to see this through to the end, no matter what comes. Wonder if she’ll return to Earth or stay on Klendathor? I hope she stays, having built such respect and honor for herself here.

My stomach churns, and I notice the muffled sounds of the gathering crowds above. It won’t be long now. We wait below the Magaxus arena that rests atop a mountain of Scarn, not as inhospitable as the peaks housing the Council of Elders, but still not for the fainthearted. Most of the crowd will comprise Magaxus warriors, giving Gorexius yet more advantage.

I stand up and pace the cramped, dimly illuminated chamber carved within the mountain, my movements betraying my restless state. I loosen my limbs by rotating them in circles and throwing a series of testing kicks and punches. Pebbles jolts erect, rising from the bench startled. “Krogoth?” She mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “I had a terrible dream that you were gone.”

“I’m still here,” for now. I reassure her, offering a gentle smile, although inwardly I’m battling an anxiety which threatens to make my hands shake with worry.

Pebbles glances upward, straining to hear, worry spreading across her sweet face. “I can hear them now,” she says, looking at me almost pleadingly. “It’ll start soon, won’t it?”

I nod solemnly, finding it heartbreaking to see my Pebbles look so panicked and anxious, wishing I could take away her pain. “Pebbles, I know this is hard for you. But there is no need—”

She cuts me off abruptly, her voice urgent. “Don’t send me away, Krogoth!” She declares, rushing closer and grasping my hand. “Unless you’re coming with me, I don’t want to hear it.” She buries her head against my chest.

Stroking her back gently, feeling her softness as I breathe in her scent. I desperately and greedily absorb her essence, savoring these last moments together. “Thank you for showing me what true love really is,” I whisper, like a spirit.

Pebbles’ shoulders tremble with silent sobs as we cling to each other. “I’m sorry, Krogoth, I promised myself I’d be strong for you,” she confesses, tears shimmering in her eyes as she meets my gaze, “but I can’t let you do this.” Her embrace tightens with fierce desperation. “Your fear, it’s so strong. I won’t let you go out and die if there is no hope of you returning. Please, Krogoth, I beg you, don’t do this!” Her anguish pierces my heart like a blade.

I brush the tears from her flushed cheeks. “We all fear and doubt at difficult times, Pebbles,” I smile sympathetically. “It’s what gives us the strength to overcome our limitations.” A soft laugh escapes me before continuing. “Remember, I was fearful the first time we met. If I had turned back, I wouldn’t have known the joy and honor of ever loving you.”

Pebbles emits a mixture of laughter and tears, breaking our embrace. “Okay,” she whispers, rubbing her eyes. “Okay,” she repeats louder, her eyes now full of renewed resolve. “I’m glad you never turned back either, because I love you so fucking much, Krogoth,” she says, her smile tender.

A knock on our door draws our attention as Xandor enters wearing his full armor and half cloak. “Hail High Chieftain and Chieftainess,” he greets sternly, as he performs a military salute.

A laugh escapes me at his unusual formalness. “Gods, you look more nervous than me, Xandor,” I quip.

Xandor softens his posture, smiling, “You should be more nervous, fighting that big bastard again,” he jests before his face turns serious again. “They’re ready for you now.”

My heart pounds in my chest at his words as I clench my fists. “Lead the way, brother,” I say, fortifying myself.

The three of us travel along a winding cavernous tunnel, with a few braziers providing the only source of flickering firelight. With each step, the voices from above grow louder, matching the increasing pace of my heartbeat.

“Do you think Astraxius will watch from among the ancestors?” Xandor inquires, breaking the tense atmosphere.

His question catches me off guard. “I have no doubt,” I answer.

Xandor turns to me, his face tense. “But who does he bless?” He asks bitterly.

I halt, placing a hand on Xandor’s shoulder. “Astraxius, gave everything to reverse the wrong he had done. It’s because of him we are here now, with this opportunity,” I assure him, offering a smile. “He will strengthen me, along with all our ancestors that cry out for vengeance.”

As we continue walking, Xandor nods thoughtfully. “Honor to Astraxius!” He declares, his voice reverberating off the narrow walls.

“Honor to Astraxius!” Pebbles and I echo simultaneously.

Daylight filters in, illuminating the stairs leading to the mountaintop. The air grows colder and gusts of wind can be heard whipping through the air. So close now, my anxious fear gives way to an unshakable resolve, fueled by the adrenaline flowing through my veins.

“Honor to Clan Draxxus!” I shout out, climbing the stairs.

“Honor to Clan Draxxus!” Pebbles and Xandor echo, following closely behind.

I emerge from the stairs feeling the strong winds brush through my long hair, as the rain pelts down on my forehead, feeling surprisingly refreshing. Sounds of thunder boom and flashes of purple lightning streak across the skies. All eyes from the awaiting spectators fixate on me. Some I recognize fondly as proud Draxxus warriors. While the majority are unfamiliar faces, showing barely suppressed snarls. They stand like hostile statues awaiting my demise.

“Honor to the High Chieftain!” Xandor’s cry warms my heart, echoed by the raised fists and fervent chants of the Draxxus warriors. “High Chieftain!” Their roar drowns out even the thunder. I grasp Xandor’s wrist firmly. “Farewell, brother. May the Gods bless you,” I assert with a nod.

“I pray they bless you first, brother,” Xandor replies with a solemn smile, “Time to show the universe why you’re the greatest warrior.” He briefly embraces me.

Turning away, I march towards the central ring of the arena with Pebbles by my side. We pass through the cheering Clan Draxxus brothers as they slap my back and offer encouraging words. They fill me with joy and an overwhelming desire to emerge victorious, as I stride as the manifestation of everyone’s hopes and dreams.

I halt noticing Rylar standing on the precipice of the arena, marked by a ring of stones “You’re used to being the bigger warrior, but now you’ll need to stick and move, dart in and out,” he advises, acting out pokes with a spear.

“I will, I swear it,” I promise with a nod, embracing him quickly, “Farewell, old friend.”

He nods in return. “Fight with honor, Krogoth,” he offers solemnly as he salutes.

The edge of the arena contains numerous weapons of various types and technologies that soon we will choose from. At the center stands Vereth the aged Speaker, waiting gravely, clutching his staff, his white robes sodden with rain. “Hail Chieftain, Krogoth.” He nods at my approach, his eyes flicker to Pebbles. “I’m sorry, Chieftainess, you must clear the arena.” He motions for her to leave.

Pebbles’ hazel eyes blaze with a fierce intensity that ignites my soul. She tugs on my hand, urging me to lean down, and plants a kiss on my cheek before whispering in my ear. “Rip his heart out and come back to me,” she says, her tone full of aggression.

I nod, looking down at her. “Yes, my Mortakin-Kis,” I reply simply. It’s better for her to hold onto hope rather than another heart-wrenching farewell. She has suffered enough, my poor beautiful Chieftainess. As she marches out of the arena to stand alongside Xandor and Rylar, I’m reassured knowing they will look after her should I fall.

An eerie silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity as the downpour bounces off my skin enjoyably. I stretch out my hands and close my eyes, tilting my head back. Lightning cracks and thunders overhead as if the Gods themselves are in attendance.

Drawing a deep breath, my thoughts turn to the Gods and the ancestors. Grant me victory here, I implore you, for my father, for my mother, for all our futures. Give me the strength and skill I need to end him, to end this.

A perverse answer comes in the form of a beating drum. Faint at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. It draws my attention and the entire crowd, as the rhythmic thud rings out echoing through the surrounding volcanic mountains, like the heartbeat of a titanic monster that slumbers within the core of the planet.

The Magaxus warriors erupt into cheers of “War Chief!” they chant repeatedly, adding to the cacophony of the beating drum, an intimidating spectacle. But I refuse to be cowed by such theatrics.

Already I can see Gorexius, his massive visage easily visible over the heads of the others. Despite the raucous crowd, his eyes lock onto mine as they glow crimson, promising pain.

Gorexius strides forward, a towering figure with a huge banner fluttering beside him, carried by his Second, Drexios. Depicting the runes for the Ravager Berserkers on the backdrop of some alien beasts roaring flame onto a battlefield. The War Chieftain marches through his warriors, as they cheer and thump him as he passes. Meanwhile, Drexios spits towards my warriors, resulting in an exchange of punches that I barely register.

“Hail War Chieftain Gorexius,” Vereth intones, showing no emotion. Gorexius doesn’t acknowledge the greeting as he glares at me, his huge bare chest rising and falling with scarcely restrained fury. Meeting his gaze, I feel only resolve. I will dismantle this walking mountain stone by stone until there’s nothing but a pile of rubble.

Vereth brings his staff down upon the hard rock, calling for silence. Once the crowd quiets, he speaks. “Krogoth, do you choose the old ways?” He gestures to the series of spears, shields, and other traditional weapons arrayed on my left side. “Or the new?” He points to my right, where arc claws and arc shield gauntlets lie arrayed.

“The old,” I reply calmly, eyeing a long spear, hoping to bleed the monstrous giant at a distance.

Gorexius scoffs. “Stuck in the past, that’s why you die, Krogoth,” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Are you in accord, Gorexius?” Vereth asks, with a neutral tone.

The War Chieftain stalks over to inspect the weapons. He runs his fingers over the edge of a huge two-handed ax, testing its sharpness. “Yes,” he answers finally. Hoisting the weapon from its placement, he cradles it in his fingers, which twitch like he can’t wait to split me open with it.

I swiftly make my selections, choosing from the longest spears, testing the sharpness and attachments, knowing it’ll need to be durable to chip him down. Next, I select the thickest shield available, large and rectangular, hoping it can endure the onslaught of Gorexius’ brutal ax swings.

Vereth ensures we’re both armed, as murmurs from the crowd begin to build, fueling the mounting tension. He slams his staff demanding silence, but I hardly notice seeing only the War Chieftain and his menacing ax, as he glares down at me eagerly. Vereth clears his throat and raises his arms before intoning “Dagdorix of the Star Eyes, God of Valor, bless these two—”

“Void your dead gods!” Gorexius roars, shoving the aged Vereth to the ground. “I have a war to win,” he declares, snarling down at the stunned elder.

My hands shake with fury, suppressing the urge to attack him now for his disgraceful blasphemy. Many in the crowd gasp and murmur disapproval, yet the War Chieftain doesn’t care. He towers over me, his breath visible in the icy wind, strands of long red hair plastered to his body by the downpour. Flashes of purple lightning highlight his imposing physique, while his red eyes mist and glow, glaring down at me as though I’m nothing but a znat that needs squashed.

Vereth miserably gets to his feet and raises his staff into the air, causing a hushed silence between the spectators. The tension is so thick it stokes my adrenaline as it burns through my veins, causing my purple eyes to release vapor, defiantly meeting his menacing crimson gaze. “Commence!” Vereth roars over the booming thunder.

Before Vereth finishes speaking, Gorexius performs a brutal chop with his monstrous ax. With such surprising speed, I narrowly leap back, avoiding the savage blow. His attack crashes into the ground, with such force it sends chunks of volcanic mountain exploding through the air. Prompting Vereth to scurry out of the arena with haste.

During our previous encounter, Gorexius had been in no hurry, making sport of me, but now he seeks a swift victory. I can seize this opportunity by frustrating and wearing down the hulking giant. Stepping forward into range, I lash out with stinging thrusts from my long spear. Gorexius blocks a few with the head of his ax before darting forward with such speed it defies belief, delivering a huge sweeping slash.

I’m caught off guard and barely manage to raise my thick shield for desperate protection. The impact of his blow explodes through the shield and into my arm with such jarring force that it carries me several steps to my right. The brutal War Chieftain, sensing my imbalance, rushes to finish his bloody work. He performs a leaping chop that could split a battlesuit in two, but I use the momentum to carry me into a tumble.

Avoiding his death blow, I spring forth from my roll, stabbing my spear into the meat of his thigh. My heart soars at the sight. If I can wound him, then I can kill him . The crowd gasps as Gorexius steps back, examining the green blood trickling down his leather trousers. “You’ve grown stronger,” he sneers, “but so have I.”

To my dismay, he charges forward unimpeded, the wound seemingly having little effect on the titanic figure. He roars with rage, swinging and jabbing with his ax with a flurry of quick blows. He moves the massive weapon with impossible ease. It’s all I can do to maintain distance, dodging the heavier strikes and blocking the others. Chips of hardwood flake off my battered shield as my arm grows numb, absorbing his savagely powerful blows.

He presses me mercilessly, driving me to the edge of the ring. Out of the corner of my eye, people make their way, fearing they’ll get caught up in Gorexius’ brutal swings. If I don’t act, he’ll force me off, spiraling down the sharp, craggy rocks below. I attempt to circle around, but he adjusts his feet, cutting me off.

With my shield battered to splinters and no escape, I now must stand my ground. Gorexius’ scarred face twists into a smirk, sensing victory. He raises his ax for the last attack. In a flash, I hurl the broken remnants of my shield straight into his face. The wood explodes off his head with a sickening crunch, but I waste no time, leaping forward, driving my spear into his midsection with all my strength, roaring triumphantly.

Audible gasps mingle with the booming thunder as Gorexius falls to one knee, shaking the very ground, my spear running straight through his stomach. I instinctively kick the ax from his grasp, sending it spinning amongst the crowd. My breaths are ragged as I extend my claws, ready to finish this once and for all. The mountain brought to heel.

I throw a clawed strike aimed at his thick neck. Suddenly his huge hand shoots out, clutching mine, with a crushing grip. My heart pounds in my chest as he lifts his head, revealing a broken nose and a knowing snarl. He rises onto his feet, looming once again, pressing the weight of the universe down on me.

Our hands locked, my eyes mist purple with increasing intensity as I stare up into his molten orbs of rage. He bears down on me, his muscles and veins rippling with power.

“Why aren’t you dying?” I roar out in shock, feeling my muscles, tendons, and bones strain against his incredible strength. Even the ground we stand upon cracks and splits with the sheer force we elude.

The Rush inside me reaches a fever pitch, resisting his terrible power. Wisps of purple evaporate from my eyes, carried away by the snapping winds. Summoning all my strength, all my will, I am bent on overcoming this monstrous giant.

“I’m the strongest. I’m the War Chieftain!” Gorexius thunders in defiance, his eyes glowing brighter, releasing tendrils of crimson.

I snarl with pain as he twists my hands and fingers, threatening to break them. He’s too strong even when gravely wounded. Desperately, I deliver a leaping headbutt aimed for his already broken nose. Thankfully, he releases me to avoid the blow before stepping back. We both breathe heavily as the rain washes away our sweat.

Gorexius clutches the shaft of the spear, breaking it off with a grunt. Then he pulls the bladed end through his body, dropping it onto the stoney ground. How can he still be standing?

Green blood leaks from his leg, nose and punctured midriff, yet he moves unhindered. It’s a truly terrifying display of resolve. I begin to wonder if he can be killed.

“Is this primitive enough, Krogoth?” Gorexius demands, extending his long claws and charging with renewed vigor, slashing wildly with blindingly quick attacks. I dart and weave through his frantic cuts with efficient precision. My Rush, still stoked to its zenith, roars within me, making his blows appear slower as I move faster.

With each of his attacks I evade, I retaliate with my own. My claws rend sickening strips from his flesh, moving with blinding speed. Yet he does not stop, he does not retreat. He roars defiantly, growing more desperate to kick, grab, slash, anything to land a blow upon me. I lose track of time, hacking and dodging as the heat from our bodies evaporates the down-pouring rain.

Gasps of horrified shock emerge from the crowd. It’s then I stop to look upon Gorexius in disgusted disbelief. His body, so torn and shredded, reveals a metallic cybernetic core hidden within his flesh. “What have you done?” I demand between gulps of air, feeling sickened to my stomach.

Gorexius’ broken face twists with a smile. “Become stronger,” he roars, renewing his attack, showing no signs of fatigue or damage. I struggle to keep up with his frenzied assaults as my Rush wanes in this prolonged battle. Soon I’m covered in cuts and gashes from narrowly avoided slashes.

Despair grips my chest, seeing no way to overcome this monstrosity that offends the very Gods. Throwing a desperate slash aimed for his towering head, his piston-like arm shoots out, grasping me around the wrist with incredible crushing strength. My muscles bulge and ripple, trying to tear my hand free, but he’s too strong.

The bones in my wrist splinter into a hundred broken pieces. An explosion of agonizing pain rattles my mind, causing me to scream out in suffering. “I’ll shatter every bone, Krogoth,” Gorexius promises, snarling down at me as I fall onto one knee. He takes my little finger and snaps it backward as easily as snapping a twig, causing another jolt of anguish to pierce my mind.

“The universe will hear your screams.” He bends my next finger, snapping it, as my mind reels from the pain. “A cautionary tale echoing for millennia.” His massive hands ply my middle finger out as he breaks it as well. I roar defiantly, desperately struggling to free myself. “So all understand the cost,” he snaps my index finger as I snarl madly, feeling the anguish and concern of Pebbles through our sacred bond, twisting my heart further. “Of defying me, the War Chieftain!” He screams, leaning down into my face. Taking his huge hands, he grasps my upper arm in an iron grip, bending it until it breaks with a deafening snap. I cry out between ragged breaths, the pain threatening to overcome my sanity.

“This is sacrilege!” I vaguely recognize the voice of Rylar through my haze of suffering. “You’re more of a machine than Klendathian. This violates the Krak-Tok!” His voice rings out over the eerie silence.

Gorexius snarls as he releases my destroyed arm, causing me to collapse onto the ground. “Strength is strength, regardless of source.” He looks into the crowd. “The Scythians enhanced me. Immortal, I stride as a God of War,” He spits down at me. “This is our future, the one he rejects,” he roars before stomping his boot down onto my rib cage.

An explosion of pain rips through my already crippled consciousness, as several ribs crack and break under his massive bulk. I dare not look at Pebbles. Her agony through the bond is as unbearable as Gorexius’ brutal torture. Avert your eyes, my love, you have suffered enough. I pray, hoping she can read my thoughts.

The air liquefies as it enters my shattered lungs.

Goodbye, my beautiful brave Pebbles.