Chapter 4

The troll bellowed, beating its bulbous chest with the thick of its club. Inspired, the surrounding boggarts rallied, crying out in unison. A few of them were already picking through their dead kin at their feet, grabbing bits of clothing, weapons, or the tastiest bits. Vultures.

Caleb dragged a hand across the ground, doing some grave robbing of his own, and snatched a spear from the rigid hands of one of his victims. It shot through the air, aimed at the ice troll’s head. Unfortunately, the troll wasn’t as dumb as it looked – and it looked real dumb – and swatted the spear away like it was hitting a home run.

Caleb followed only a few feet behind the spear, closing the distance in seconds. He could feel the effect of his Frenzy skill and he didn’t want to give it the chance to fade. Fight fast, fight hard.

The troll started bringing its club back around, getting ready to smash it over Caleb’s head with the force of a falling mountain. He dropped to the side and the plaza ground exploded into shards of stone and ice. One spirit arm shot forward, slamming into the troll’s ribs, the other swung wide, dicing a boggart clean in half as it tried to stick him in the gut.

But the ice troll proved that being level thirteen was more than just a number. It recoiled, taking a heavy step back as Caleb’s fist cracked into it, but didn’t topple. Then roared, a steaming rush of rage flaring from its maw.

Caleb grinned, heart hammering like a drum. This was going to be a fun fight.

Three boggarts were flattened in a shimmering arc of ice as the troll swung its massive club, trying to hit Caleb. He vaulted backward, pushing off the ground with one of his spirit arms, and landing away in the snow with a skid.

A group of boggarts broke off, running forward like a wave of pissed-off toddlers. They rushed toward him, hissing, and spitting, and baring their ugly teeth.

Caleb had never actually done this before, but he knew exactly what to do, how it worked, every minute flick of muscle, every pulse. He pulled one arm back, feeling the aether flow through his arms, snaking down them as if his veins were made of lightning. It scorched with an eager pressure, begging to be released. Everything moved in perfect synchronicity, like he’d done it a thousand times. A burning hiss of energy steamed from his hands.

He released. His arm moved. A deafening crack erupted from his fist. All he saw was the burst of energy, carving through the air.

It rammed into the bogarts and they vanished, leaving nothing in their place but shattered ground and a fine mist of gore. Caleb was thrown backward. The ground shuddered and cracked. The sound reverberated through the mountain range, echoing over and over, until it too died.

For a second, everything was quiet. Caleb could hear the sound of falling snow, his own breath, as he slowly got to his feet. Like the world had been stunned to silence as he and it began to grasp what he was capable of.

He glanced down at his hands, still steaming with power – like a still hot engine. Bright spots of blood leaked from them, his skin split apart across his hands from the violent release. It felt like it’d been run over by a truck. A weapon unto himself.

It was only ten seconds later that the spearhead of one of the formerly living boggart’s clattered to the broken ground, its owner and wooden shaft scattered across the plaza.

Bonebreaker… Well, shit, that’ll break bones alright. Damn near broke my bones.

He could tell that using the ability had taken from a source of energy within him. Like a ladle of water had been taken from a bowl. He couldn’t just spam that ability over and over. Fortunately, it didn’t look like he’d have to. Most monsters would be unlikely to be able to hold up against more than one of those.

Maybe I should’ve saved it for the big guy, though.

The ice troll roared, and took off toward him.

That finally piss you off enough to really get going? Caleb grinned.

Its feet pounded like lead, shaking the rubble and cracking the ice with every thundering step. Caleb accepted its challenge and ran to meet it. The troll reared back its club, Caleb his spectral fists.

Their attacks met with a thunderclap of air, throwing everything around them back, nearly throwing Caleb back. The force of the wind nearly cut his face. He dug his legs into the ground, pushing with everything he could.

A crust of ice quickly spread across the claws of the spirit arm, growing from the troll’s club like moss. It was so cold it burned. Like Caleb’s fingers were getting frostbite in seconds. He tried to squeeze, shatter the club, but it was impossibly strong – stronger than stone, like he was trying to crush solid steel.

Caleb roared, ripping his spirit arms back in a shattering of ice crystals, twisting them to angle the troll’s club away. He darted backward, gaining distance. Just in time for a boggart to stick a spear in his calf.

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He jerked away, tearing the point from him in a spray of warm blood. Another boggart darted in, snarling, thrusting, thrust again. His spirit arm blocked the first one, then knocked the next wide enough to gouge into its friend.

The pain flowed freely, and he loved it. Like fighting were a part of him that he’d only just found, and never planned on letting go.

Caleb bared his teeth, crashed to the side, swatting a little monster up into the air, slamming it back down. He caught a spear flashing through the air, wrestled it away, then beat the blunt end across a skull until they both broke.

Dead enemies abounded. Broken weapons. Broken ground. Caleb carved his path with his own hands, spirit and flesh. He could feel himself getting stronger with every passing second of chaos, his stats slowly increasing. The energy from the dead monsters flowed into him, and he greedily drank it in like water on a hot day. But he was still growing tired. His skill might be making him stronger, but that didn’t mean he was immune to fatigue.