by David Burke
Kyle looked at each of them. “But he narrowly escaped. He was dying and unable to fight the other gods anymore, so he chose a successor. I am from another world, a world where there is no essence, or gods, or even elves. I had been betrayed, similar to how he was, and shot in the back by a powerful weapon. I was dying, but Krig appeared and offered me the chance to inherit his mantle.”
“Next thing I knew, I’d been reincarnated here on Verden. The process took three years, but I was finally born anew as the reincarnated war god. Except, I didn’t—and still don’t—have full access to my powers. Even now, it takes a great deal of effort to contain the raw power that is stored within me,” Kyle explained.
After that, he did his best to answer what few questions they had. Gilthan was mostly in shock. Hilde helped answer a couple of questions also, and while she started explaining things once more, Kyle turned his focus back to the axe in his hands.
He wanted to try something.
He delved back down into the material of the axe and began to alter it. While Kyle Hudson was certainly no master chemist or metallurgist, the knowledge of the universe that he had gained from Krig’s vision came in handy. Kyle might not be able to move universes, planets or even cities, but he could manipulate the substance of this axe. Of that, he was certain.
He manipulated the metals molecular bonds and found how best to tweak the substances. Before, he had recognized that the axe was an alloy of three distinct metals that he didn’t recognize. Now, he had a name for each of them: mithril, adamantium, and elementium.
He learned more than that, though, as he studied the axe with his expanded senses. There was Death Essence laced throughout the entire weapon. That fragment down below must be potent, for it to affect everything around it like this.
Working with Death Essence was clearly not his strength, but he had enough power to push it aside. He fed pure War Essence into every spot where the dark power had resided before. No longer did the weapon crave death—now, it simply desired to be wielded properly.
The more war essence he poured into it, the more he was able to enhance it. The blade became sharper. Whoever used this weapon would miss less often, as the utmost desire of the weapon was to strike. It would even enhance the strength of whoever used it.
When he was done, he thought about who could benefit most from this. Kyle already had the ideal weapon in his soul bound war hammer, and this didn’t match the style of any of the women. Skrug though, was another matter. The weapon might not be long enough for Skrug, but that gave Kyle another idea.
Who needed a forge when you could reshape reality with your hands? He willed the metal of the axe to change its shape as he pushed more raw essence into it. He circulated his raw essence through his outer wheel even faster, but because of the lower volume, its aura wasn’t overwhelming. It was still more significant than a mortal’s or even a celestial’s aura, but not so much that the dungeon couldn’t conceal him.
When he was finally satisfied with his work, he called out, “Skrug, give me your club.”
The half-troll might not understand everything that was going on, but he had been willing to follow Kyle before and even more so, now. Without hesitation, he handed over his long, ironbound club.
Kyle fused the new axe head he had made onto the end of the club.
Then he reached in with his Earth Essence and fortified the club. Water and other impurities bubbled out of the wood, only to be replaced by the essence that Kyle fed it. Earth Essence represented durability to Kyle, and so durability is what he poured into the shaft of the newly created battle axe.
When he was done, he pulled back and looked at it with his naked eye. He felt the weapon’s balance. It was perfect for a warrior as large and strong as Skrug. The axe blade was a full two feet long and sharper than a razor. Kyle had enhanced the metal’s natural magical power to make it resistant to magical attacks.
He hoped it would be able to cut through magical shields. Then, he began to look at it, not as a mortal, but as a god. He saw and quantified the traits he had put into this new weapon.
Divine Forged Razor Axe: The blade never dulls and, so long as the god who created it lives, it can never be broken. The blade has a vorpal effect and a 20% chance to cut through any Monster Tier or lower magical barrier.
This weapon can be bestowed upon only one wielder and becomes soul bound, not usable by another while the owner is still alive. The owner gains STR: +2 and CON: +2 while holding this weapon. (NOTE: Such bonuses cannot extend across a tier)
Kyle was surprisingly fatigued after making the axe, but it had been exhilarating to use his power to create something. That was what the key was going to be to his future. This was how he would succeed, where Krig had failed. Kyle wasn’t going to discard any but the best. He was going to take whatever was around him and make something greater with it.
He only needed the willing, not the powerful. He could not change one’s soul, but he could help those who followed him become stronger.
Chapter 19 - Forging a Follower
When Skrug demonstrated the power of the weapon a few times, everyone turned to stare at Kyle.
“Look, just so we are clear, I don’t have all the answers. Maybe more power than most, but not all the answers,” he said.
“Still, you were able to create an enchanted item in minutes. Master mages take months, typically, to create permanent enchantments and usually have to work in pairs or groups, while using up expensive reagents. Even then, only a portion of the enchantments are permanent. Even rune smithing only adds minimal benefit.”
The blonde warrior’s eyes burned with a fire Kyle had not seen there before. “That axe may not be as powerful or versatile as some of the items Krig made for me, but it shows that you have the same gift that he had. He once told me that all the gods can make items like this, but that it is exceedingly difficult for some of them,” Lash said.
“I only did what came naturally,” Kyle replied.
“Which only proves her point,” Hilde said. The two women exchanged a guarded look and then a nod of mutual respect.
“It doesn’t matter. I feel oddly drained after that. My essence levels are nearly the same, and I don’t feel weaker physically—it is just like whatever creative spark allowed me to do that, is used up for now. I guess I will have to explore that more, later. For now, though, I want to free us all.”
Kyle stretched, and limb by limb, he held out his remaining manacles and burst them with a surge of War Essence. Then he smiled and asked, “Who’s next?”
Kierra jumped right up and said, “Me, pack leader. I hate these things.”
She only had them on her ankles, but Kyle understood. He simply nodded, and with a surge of War Essence, one by one, he popped them off.
She let out a low, throaty sound—somewhere between a purr and a growl—that he took to mean she was pleased. Then she once again dropped to her knees and said, “War God, please make me one of your priestesses. You have already shown yourself to be the alpha, but now I know you are the alpha of alphas. It is my place to follow you. I will keep your lair warm and give of my strength. My kills shall be your kills and I will follow you above all others.”
Kyle looked down at her. At first, the thought of her ‘warming his lair’ had been a turn off. Hell, he had never liked a girl who didn’t shave her legs, and Kierra had more than just a bit of stubble. She had outright fur in places. Of course, he also saw that there were other places that looked to be all woman and he had found her bravery and ability was what he thought about when he looked at her now, more than anything else.
Still, there was something holding him back. He wasn’t sure if she was in this for the right reason. If she just wanted power from him, he could understand that. If she was genuinely in love with him, he could have gotten on board with that, too. But it seemed to be something else that was driving her.
Much like Nyda, she was reacting to a social obligation. Kyle
at last acknowledged that her standards weren’t his norms, and he might have to learn to adjust. He simply wasn’t there yet.
“I can try to finish the process that I started with you, but I think that it won’t work quite yet. I will talk about it more with Hilde, and maybe she can provide us both with some insight, but for now it will have to wait.” Kyle wanted to say more, but he held back.
Kierra’s ears drooped some, but she simply said, “As you will.”
“Well, if not her, then what about me?” Lash asked.
“I already covered that. Talk with Hilde. When she trusts you, then we can take it to the next step,” Kyle replied.
He looked over at Skrug and simply burst the three manacles they had placed on him.
The half-troll was shocked for a moment but grunted, “Thank you, leader.”
Then, he went back to examining his new axe. His testing of the new weapon actually led to him cutting the heads off the two Mor’dverg that Kyle had trapped in the floor. Before anyone could say a word, the deed was done. The axe was so sharp that one stroke cleanly removed both their heads.
“I thought we were going to question them?” Lash asked.
Kyle just shook his head.
Skrug at least had the decency to look embarrassed, if such a thing were possible for a half-troll. “Sorry, boss.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle said, “we can get more. Now, Gilthan are you ready for your manacles to come off?”
The sorcerer stared at Kyle. He had been strangely quiet since the big reveal. Normally, the man was a bit foppish for Kyle’s taste. He was useful in a fight , though, and had proven himself to be loyal, so Kyle was more than willing to keep him on the team.
Finally, Gilthan said, “Yes, please. But can I ask you something?”
Kyle looked at him. The elf had only ever truly acted serious about escape. Most of the time, he preferred to gossip about the slave girls around the estate. As Kyle had gotten to know him a bit better, he realized that the man was quite intelligent. He just didn’t deny himself a bed warmer, or two, any chance that he got.
Of course, who was Kyle to judge, he had done plenty of that back on Earth. Now though, the elf had that more serious look on his face.
“Is it possible for you to empower a man like you did with Kierra?” Gilthan asked.
Of all the things that he had been expecting the sorcerer to ask, that was not one of them. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder if his jaw hung open a bit. He glanced over at Hilde, who shrugged. The way she had been inside his head had translated into a deeper understanding than he would have guessed. That or his perception really had increased significantly.
Either way, it didn’t matter, he knew by the gesture that she meant it was possible, but she didn’t recommend it. Because he knew her so well, Kyle realized that had more to do with the fact that Hilde was an incorrigible horndog, and she liked the idea of Kyle having a big harem. Expending a divine shard on the male elf would only detract from that goal.
Kyle’s mind raced a mile a minute, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of having a male emissary, priest, or whatever title Gilthan went with. He was probably always going to have trouble sending women into harm's way. Not that he was an overdeveloped chauvinist, but he was honest enough with himself to admit the idea of a woman getting hurt because of his orders really bothered him.
This might be a way to ease that concern.
Then too, there was also the fact that if he was about to try and intentionally put a divine splinter into someone rather than the accidental partial transmissions he had done so far, it might be better if that someone was like Gilthan. He liked the elf’s company well enough, but his view of the man wasn’t clouded by a complicated web of emotions. Then again, if he made the elf’s head explode, Kyle would be able to live with it much easier.
Maybe that made him a bad person, or god, or whatever, but he was prepared to accept that about himself.
“First, tell me why you are asking for this,” Kyle said. His tone changed as he got serious.
Gilthan paused before answering. “Two reasons. First, I figure I owe you and if things are gonna get shook up, I’d rather be on your side. I guess I could do that without this, but it seems like it would help. I’ve already seen how much faster and stronger Kierra is. The second, and I’ll freely admit more important reason, at least to me, is that if you free us, that doesn’t mean that Thena will just let us go free. The nobles here are hardly known for their kindness to run-away slaves. So, I guess if I’m truly gonna be free, then I will need the power to remain so.”
“Thank you for being honest with me,” Kyle said.
As he watched, he could see both Hilde and Lash almost holding their breath. With the revelation of his power, neither seemed willing to question him. He assumed that was how it had been with Krig, too.
That was going to have to change. At least for now, he still depended upon their council and experience. In some ways, he was the equivalent of a twenty-foot-tall baby—amazingly powerful but terribly uncoordinated, and unaware of the consequences of his own actions.
“You will have to take an oath. I guess that would make you a priest of, um… the War God. It feels weird saying my priest. I mean who prays and asks ‘Kyle’ for guidance. That just sounds bizarre. By whatever title you want to call it, I will demand your absolute loyalty. I only have four more divine splinters that I can hand out and I need to make sure they go to the right people.”
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I guess what I am trying to say, is that you will be stuck with me for life,” Kyle said, trying to sound as solemn as possible.
Hilde mumbled, “Three,” so softly that he almost didn’t catch it. Kyle looked over at her, but his attention was drawn back by Gilthan’s next question, a question that came out of left field.
“Just so there are no misunderstandings, uhhh… I don’t have to become a eunuch or anything like that, right?” Gilthan asked it as though the question had just occurred to him.
Kyle burst out laughing. “Hell, no man. I would never cock block you. Get some, just make sure you treat them fairly. Oh, and hands off my women, or you’ll lose that hand.”
The last part came out with more force than Kyle had intended. It had started out as a joke, but by the time he finished the statement, Kyle realized he was deathly serious about it.
Maybe he really was going to build a harem.
“Don’t piss where I eat, represent you, follow your orders, and in exchange I get power and freedom. Sounds like a fair deal to me. I guess the final question I have to ask you is, are you willing to grant me one of your divine splinters? Is it just Kyle? Or do you prefer that I call you m’lord… or Lord Kyle or… I guess I don’t know what to call a god. We elves aren’t all that religious,” Gilthan admitted.
“Yes, come kneel down here and let’s try this. Hilde can administer your oath.”
The sorcerer dropped to his knees and he heard the celestial talking to him, but he had already blocked them out. He had to look deep within himself. This should be doable, but he had to search the knowledge—not only of what he had learned beyond the Blood of the Fallen, but also from his failed unintentional attempts with Nyda and Kierra.
Each of those had been based on spontaneous emotion. This time, he needed to base it on intent.
Kyle began to spin his raw essence faster and faster, until it was making more than a dozen rotations per second. Power coursed through him. At the same time, he reached out and drew in more essence from all around him. In his need, he managed to tap into some of his massive reservoir of power.
A realization dawned on him. He needed a focus item. Divine power was not meant to go into a mortal, raw. A cold chill passed over him as he realized after a moment’s consideration, what would have happened had he passed a full divine splinter on to Nyda or Kierra. They would have been obliterated, both body and soul.
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br /> That hadn’t been what happened, though. He just needed to focus on how to make this work with Gilthan. Krig had done it several times. Never mind that he was an old god, one who had come into his power slowly over time, rather than having it dumped on him all at once.
Kyle had an idea. He waved his hand over his storage ring and pulled out the mage’s reservoir. He poured his power into it, looking at not just the matrix of the crystal in the middle, but also the fabric of the belt, the gold work on it, and its steel buckle. The crystal was good, and the idea of a belt worked well in his mind, but Kyle wanted to improve it, first.
He reached out with his power and drew some of the mithril and elementium from the armor of a slain Mor’dverg. Everyone gasped as a fine mist of metallic dust floated through the air and, filtering through Kyle’s power, fused itself into the belt. Where before there had only been fine cloth and leather, now the belt was composed of woven strands of mithril and elementium.
