Chapter 89
The Cost of Acceleration
Tremors shook the damp mossy floor, puddles rippling as the thundering drew closer.
The creaking groan of a forest coming alive surrounded them, trees shifting and rustling.
No wind could be felt as leaves snowed down around them.
Flocks of birds burst into the air, squawking their indignation.
The roar of an approaching avalanche grew louder.
Towering trunks swayed, the forest parting in a wave.
The pair smiled as the air grew heavy, the surrounding roots writhing under the soil.
The final barrier of foliage parted before them, allowing the False King of the Forest to crash their concert.
Bark like battered armor, dragging roots behind it like chains, deep vibrant green eyes burned at them from deep within twisted knots.
Must be fifteen feet tall…
Ancient, and meaner than the last…
Perfect.
Garuke was a gray blur, femur clubs spinning.
Tap-tap-thud.
Tap-tap-thud.
Small, sharp, rhythmic strikes started to build a resonance.
Tap-tap-thud.
Tap-tap-thud.
The Ent swung, lazily slow compared to its opponent.
Tap-tap-thud.
Tap-tap-thud.
Blinding strikes chipped off small pieces of bark, but the real damage was internal.
Striking perfectly in time, each one built upon the rhythm of the last.
Roots started to twitch erratically, as its heartwood vibrated, tearing small fractures in the sentient plant.
Garuke danced among swinging branches.
Blindingly fast bone clubs flicked to and fro, deflecting the probing roots.
Sweat flew, breathing deep and even, as he slipped unimpeded through the chaos.
He’s like a leaf in the wind.
Ken stood back, fist clenched, Core churning.
One shot.
One perfect shot.
Let's go Acceleration!
Ken pulled.
Hard.
Sharp.
Momentum folded in on itself, condensing.
Not flowing, it just moved.
It screamed, then snapped.
He was there.
Not running, not accelerating.
Arriving.
As fast as he was moving, he could feel the forces acting on his body as if in time dilation.
Waves of air compressed against his body, flaring with heat, scorching his skin and eyes.
Muscle fibers tore, incapable of exerting the force needed, chi rushing to fill the gaps.
Bones bent and cracked, the shearing forces from the instant acceleration testing his enhanced bodily structure to its limits.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
With a crack of scorching air, Ken entered the fray.
Elbow first.
The weaving cage of roots shattered like glass.
His elbow cracked the Ent from Y to root.
A canyon opened in the living wood, gushing a clear sticky sap.
The wooden giant listed, groaning and toppling sideways, earth quaking under the fall.
Ken skidded to a stop, left hand on hip.
The right dangled like rubber at his side.
It was everything I thought it could be.
And more.
Garuke stared, mouth open.
Clubs paused mid-beat.
Ken froze, completely incapable of movement–until the world obliged and tilted to meet him.
Face-planting into the thankfully mossy ground, his whole body screamed at him.
Every nerve screamed molten fire into his brain, as his arm lay uselessly at his side.
Head.
Skin.
Pathways.
Burning. Everything is burning.
Sweating blood into the soft ground, teeth clenched so hard he heard cracks, Ken realized he was an idiot.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
Garuke acted, strikes ringing like a snare drum of war.
Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap-Rap.
A resonance built, echoing out of the widening crack as the trunk was played like an instrument.
Sap sprayed into the air, twitching roots falling to the ground, as leaves turned brown in a wave.
It rustled once more, then settled in a growing pool of clear sap.
That's actually kind of sad…
With a creaking snap, it fell apart, releasing an overbearing amount of greenish chi.
Another Life orb rolled out, larger and more glowy-y than the last.
Screw that, loot!
As his vision was fading to black, he did his well practiced chi kegel.
Sorry Garuke…
Greedily, the life-saving energy poured into the battered pugilist.
Burns scabbed, as he poured all of his will to corralling most of the torrent down into his right arm.
Light started to return, as some of the rampant energy cleared a little of the swelling in his brain.
This many concussions no good. Don’t member how many now…
The wave of chi hitting his shattered arm wrung out a strangled gasp.
Wide eyed, he stared at his arm.
Countless slivers of bone flared, burning with Life.
Softening, they writhed through his arm, skin and muscle shifting and healing.
He watched the scene from a horror movie play out inside of his own body, as the bone re-formed, and re-solidified.
The last trickle of energy took the edge off his remaining fog.
I was more fucked up than I realized.
Most of his body still protested any movement, his arm aching suspiciously.
More taint?
A small, bloody, shit-eating-grin battled its way through the discomfort.
Who cares?
I’m one step closer to figuring out this acceleration thing.
Maybe I should wait a bit though…
Garuke stood like a statue, studying his new weapons.
Ken forced himself up, spitting out blood.
“Sorry. I Fucked up. Took most of the chi. My bad.”
Garuke, snapping out of his trance, looked up.
Nodding after a beat, he flashed his tusks.
"’Gellar vok skal, goonta thuna’. Ut o dur, vokak traks."
He lovingly looked to his new clubs.
He seems to be pleased by his new weapons at least.
Ken pointed at the Life Orb.
“Take it. You earned it.”
Garuke looked down, taking it in for the first time, and recoiled like Ken had offered him poison.
Shaking his head hard, he pointed at the orb, then slashed a finger across his throat.
Ken blinked.
What the fuck?
I’ve eaten two of these things raw, ala carte.
Lived no problem.
Yet the orc wouldn't touch it.
Ken stared at the Core.
At Garuke.
Back at the Core.
He seems pretty sure… should I just throw it away?
Can I willingly just give up power that is right here in my hands?
…You removed all brakes.
Then, slowly, he slipped it into the pocket on his gi.
Garuke watched, jaw tight, stare hard.
He tapped his chest twice, slow, deliberate.
Ken raised an eyebrow, scratching at his stubble.
We don't speak the same language.
And I think we are both bad communicators.
Ken grinned, wiping blood from his lip.
"Guess we need to work on our communication."
Garuke grunted, tapping his chest once more, a silent agreement.
With one parting glance at his pocket, the orc shook his head, walking away.
Perfect.
