In some regards, it wasn't wrong to suggest that, for certain individuals, an infinite distance existed between potential and fulfillment. Not even the combined sum of all the talent in the universe could overcome a lack of purpose and drive. Put simply, it didn't matter how gifted a person was if they weren't willing to take the necessary steps to realize such a gift.

Somewhere around a year ago, during a time of chaos and uncertainty, a black-and-white tuxedo cat named Fluffles had told Zach something that he'd found impossible to accept. It had been something Zach still doubted, albeit for entirely different reasons. These words, which Zach had all but forgotten until right now, had come during a moment of peril for not just North Bastia but for the entire world, too. You see, back then, a dragon named Ziragoth the Awoken had spawned, and it had served as an existential threat to existence itself. And it was during this time of calamity that Fluffles had made such a staggering claim.

"It true!" the cat had insisted in response to a question that Kalana had asked. Zach had forgotten the question, but he clearly recalled the reply. "Fluffles appraise. Zach more powerful than all GSG combine. If Zach level 80, he beat the stupid dragon all by himself."

As Zach stood in the narrow partition that divided the central atrium on the ground floor of this ancient-looking tower, he thought back on this moment, and for a number of reasons, all of which bounced around his head like reflected beams of light, it seemed to take on a much greater significance. Because while Fluffles might not have been the most honest creature in existence, he never seemed to lie about his appraisals. Sure, he'd lie about food, his behavior, and things people had said or done. But never about that.

Thus, given the nature of things, Zach knew he needed to take Fluffles seriously. He needed to assume that Fluffles was actually speaking the truth: that he, Zachys Calador, could have taken on that monstrous dragon all by himself if only he had been level 80. And as much as Zach didn't want to think about the high likelihood that his friends were dead, he realized that, if they really were gone, then the impetus would be on Zach to reach his full potential before the World Eater spawned in around four years from now.

If Jimmy, Donovan, and all the others had fallen…he would need to use that power.

That's why I have to do this alone, he thought as he turned around, maneuvered his way back through the tower, and exited the rectangular entrance. No matter what and no matter how long it takes, I have to do this. I have to hold my feet to the fire. There just isn't time to fuck around anymore.

Stepping back into the sunlight, he hurried down the twenty steps that led to the tower's entrance. Then he moved just a bit of distance away from the deceased, decaying boss—enough so that he could no longer smell it. Now, finding a nice, dry, and open location on top of the soft grass, he dropped both of his large bags and patted each one to make sure there were no holes. He also briefly unzipped each to make sure that nothing had gotten lost on the way down. Content, he left his "luggage" there, turned back around, and headed back up the steps and into the tower.

This time, upon returning to the gap in the partition, he squeezed through, then drew his sword. The sound of the blade sliding out of the scabbard was one that he hadn't heard in a long time. And like before, the weapon felt awkward in his hands. This both angered and emboldened him. Though it may not be exactly the same as learning to ride a bike, he knew—or at least he seriously, seriously hoped—he could pick it up again fairly quickly.

Still, was this really the best way to start things off?

table class="chapter-table"

tbody

tr

td width="312"

pHP/p

/td

td width="312"

p3,110,000/3,110,000/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pName/p

/td

td width="312"

pLegion Portal Guardian**/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pLevel/p

/td

td width="312"

p60/p

/td

/tr

/tbody

/table

Although there only appeared to be a single mob on this floor, it didn't exactly look like it needed any help. Gods, it sure didn't. It was a vicious-looking Orc dressed in primitive, tan-colored tribal hides, and it was wielding a blood-covered axe in each of its large hands. Standing at around seven feet in height, the Orc had large teeth, which it bared from its snarling face, and it was remaining perfectly still with its legs spread and its knees slightly bent. Its arms were lowered but in a wide stance as well, its dual axes gripped near its hips.

"Fuck me," Zach groaned nervously. "Just look at that thing!"

The first elite Zach had ever encountered had been with Jimmy in Trials of Nolak. It had been a level-52 mob called "Death Harbinger," and it had absolutely kicked the shit out of Zach. It had been to such an extent that even Jimmy had decided they needed to get the hell out of there, and so the two of them had roped out to Slopes of Dal'Zarrah.

And my stats were way higher then, too, because of my gear.

Right.

Not only was Zach out of practice, but he wasn't even close to as strong as he'd been.

table class="chapter-table"

tbody

tr

td width="312"

pName/p

/td

td width="312"

pZachys Calador/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pLevel/p

/td

td width="312"

p26/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pEXP/p

/td

td width="312"

p388,277/500,000/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pArmor Bonus/p

/td

td width="312"

p0/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pStrength/p

/td

td width="312"

p79/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pDexterity/p

/td

td width="312"

p73/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pConstitution/p

/td

td width="312"

p54/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pIntelligence/p

/td

td width="312"

p97/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pSpeed/p

/td

td width="312"

p67/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pLuck/p

/td

td width="312"

p15/p

/td

/tr

/tbody

/table

Aside from his sword, his current gear provided almost nothing in the way of stats and added 0 additional armor. This was to be expected, of course, as it had been crafted with the sole intention of looking important and professional. In fact, the only good thing about his current equipment was his tie, which served as a replacement for the helm slot through some weird transmutation shenanigans he didn't understand. The important point, though, was that while his tie had no stats on it, it did have a Helm Sight level of Full, which enabled him to see detailed displays of information. He'd actually had to go out of his way to get one that had this, as he would otherwise have had to rely on shoulder taps and touching words in the air.

I also wouldn't be able to see enemy information without activating Unleashed Phase.

Fortunately, his tie enabled him to recognize what he was up against before foolishly attacking something and getting totally taken by surprise. And now that he understood how deadly the mob was ahead of him, it was only natural that he would hesitate.

That blood isn't from Jimmy and the others, right? he wondered, noticing that both of the mob's axes continued to drip a steady trickle of blood. Interestingly enough, the two tiny puddles of blood parallel to one another on the stone floor never seemed to grow in size following each drip. This reassured Zach that it was "fake" blood in the sense that it wasn't from any kind of biological entity. Zach just hoped he didn't end up replacing the "mob blood" on those axes with his own real blood. But as things stood, that was a very real possibility.

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This thing is going to fucking murder me, he thought, sighing.

Weakened, dulled, and staring into the lifeless eyes of an elite mob thirty-four levels higher than himself, Zach wondered how in the hell he was supposed to fight and kill something like this. Hell, could he even kill something like this? Was it actually even possible?

It has to be, he thought, gathering his resolve. There's no going back. I came here to do this, no matter what!

Willingness aside, Zach faced a very real dilemma. He'd expected things would be extremely difficult for him, but he hadn't expected the first—and only—mob he encountered so far to be a level-60 elite. He'd hoped to gradually level up off weaker stuff first to acclimate himself back into things. Then again, this was a raiding dungeon meant for a large group of powerful adventurers—or at least Zach assumed it was a dungeon. That part wasn't so clear. What was clear was that given the type and number of people meant to pass through, it really shouldn't have been all that surprising that mobs here would be very dangerous; still, it seemed like a bit much for the ground floor of a tower.

Stricken with uncertainty, Zach paused to consider his options. As much as he wanted to push through, he needed to question whether or not he really could kill this thing. Because it actually might be impossible. And if so, then what? What would he do in such an event, assuming he lived through it?

I guess I could always just jump off the island, he thought. Head to a dungeon and grind my way up for a bit then come right back. Or I could go to Archian Prime for a few weeks and just wander in any direction and find things to kill.

That wasn't a terrible idea, actually. It grew on him somewhat.

If Zach went to Archian Prime, he wouldn't have to worry about getting caught up in the problems of the guilds or the adventurers, and he might even get lucky and collect a new set of gear. And at this point, he'd pretty much take anything. Seriously, any gear would be better than what he currently had; for this reason, he'd tried going to the bazaar to buy some off the other adventurers only to discover that the Elves, who were increasingly becoming acquainted with the dungeons, had already purchased literally every piece of gear that had been for sale.

But if I go to Archian Prime, I can—

Zach shook his head and terminated the thought. What the hell was he thinking? He needed to knock it off. No. There would be no retreating! He was here, and he was going to get through this tower no matter how long it took or how much he needed to bleed.

"Okay," he said aloud, approaching very, very slowly, his guard raised. "Time to fight."

As Zach proceeded, he realized that even his steps forward were not as nimble and loose as they might've been eight months ago. He felt clumsy on his feet in a way that worried him. Distantly, he wondered if he should activate Unleashed Phase. Yet, with an exertion cost of High, Zach might end up passing out for ten or more hours upon its conclusion. He was very out of practice, and his stamina was unquestionably way less than it had been. For this reason, while he doubted a High debt would kill him or hurt him, he wanted to avoid using it until or unless he absolutely had to.

The same went for his Kralzek's Beast, the level-85 mount that would undoubtedly be useful in a place like this—assuming he even could summon it here, of course. Many dungeons disallowed calling upon war mounts, and Zach not only didn't know if he could summon the mount here, but he also didn't even know if this place actually was a dungeon. But whatever. He'd definitely test it later. For now, he needed to focus. He needed to approach carefully and take his time. It'd been a long while since he'd last fought something.

"How close do I have to get to you to draw your aggro?" he asked aloud as he took another few slower, cautious steps in the mob's direction. He was only about ten feet away from it now. "You don't have a very far aggro range, do you, big guy?"

The "big guy" ended up answering Zach after he took just one more step, though it did so in shouts and screams as opposed to a coherent explanation.

As though waking up, the dormant Orcish mob released a deep, guttural growl, and then, with a speed Zach was neither prepared for nor warmed up enough to handle, it flung itself his way while barking out harsh-sounding Orcish words that Zach did not understand.

"Krest zencht harganar!"

Zach held his breath. His body tensed, and he even flinched. He was simply caught too off guard by this "Legion Portal Guardian's" explosive forward motion. In less than a quarter of a second, it went from standing perfectly still in the center of the atrium to kicking off its legs and lunging across the stone flooring at him.

And it was on him so fast that he barely had time to react.

Through nothing more than luck and perhaps some distant memory of a better version of himself, Zach managed to spin out of the way. But rather than keep on moving past him, the Legion Portal Guardian was able to come immediately to a halt, and then it whipped itself around while slashing its right-handed axe in a semicircular motion aimed right at his neck.

"Oh, shit!" Zach cried out in alarm and confusion. He tried to react, but his body and brain fought one another. His brain said to duck, and his body demanded he guard. The result was a stupidly awkward motion in which he attempted to do both. As the axe ripped across the air towards his neck, Zach both crouched and raised his blade. Following this, Zach discovered that his brain had been correct and his body had been wrong. The ducking motion alone would have been sufficient—and his attempt to block was a mistake.

The axe collided with his Sword of Light Amidst Darkness, and the weapon was not only knocked out of his hands, but it began spinning in the air before flying all the way across to the opposite end of this side of the partition before disappearing from his vision. Zach didn't even see where it landed.

And just like that, Zach was unarmed.

"F-fuck!"

The mob screamed more foreign words and then took three brutally fast swings, two from its left-handed axe and one from its right. Zach didn't so much dodge as luckily fall backward and away from all three. But the mob was relentless. It was fast, undeterred, and ready to follow up with more frenzied strikes.

Acting purely off reflex and adrenaline, Zach activated Summon Active War-Mount. And thank the Gods, because it actually did work in here, dungeon or not.

An instant after activating the ability, the large, saber-toothed cat popped into existence from out of nothingness right beside where Zach was now in a seated position on the stone flooring. Terrified, Zach pointed his finger at the marauding Orc that was once again lunging for him while simultaneously giving the mental order to attack. With a roar, the Kralzek's Beast obeyed, and now Zach scooted backward and away as the saber-toothed cat blasted forward.

The two met one another right in front of Zach, perhaps only two or three feet ahead. Yet, in another miracle, the Kralzek's Beast was able to immediately pull aggro by ripping its claws across the Orc's face, leaving a few bloody streaks behind and dealing 11,225 damage to it, which seemed like a lot, right? Yeah, it totally did—until Zach got to see what the Orc was able to do in retaliation.

"Morgar bark kur!" it shouted as it delivered a left-right combination that took off half the war-mount's face and sent two projectile sprays of blood in two different directions, with one even reaching the wall across the other end of the atrium. But even more significantly, the two blows combined for a total of 74,909 damage.

table class="chapter-table"

tbody

tr

td width="312"

pHP/p

/td

td width="312"

p150,091/225,000/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pName/p

/td

td width="312"

pKralzek's Beast/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pLevel/p

/td

td width="312"

p85/p

/td

/tr

/tbody

/table

Zach, scrambling back up to his feet, realized that his mount was not going to last long. It was being absolutely shredded. In fact, in just the time it took him to physically enter into a standing position, his Kralzek's Beast had sustained another 50k of damage and had one of its front paws chopped off.

"Fucking Gods-be-damned elites!"

Zach spun around and moved with extreme urgency deeper into the tower. He then darted his head frantically around. "Where is it?" he groaned. "Where in the fuck is my—there!" He made a mad dash for his sword, scooped it up, and then spun back around a second time to see that his Kralzek's Beast was almost dead.

table class="chapter-table"

tbody

tr

td width="312"

pHP/p

/td

td width="312"

p21,020/225,000/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pName/p

/td

td width="312"

pKralzek's Beast/p

/td

/tr

tr

td width="312"

pLevel/p

/td

td width="312"

p85/p

/td

/tr

/tbody

/table

Sheathing his sword in the scabbard on his back, Zach faced the way he'd come, and without so much as a second thought, he entered into a wild sprint and began rushing towards the exit like there was a bomb in the place about to go off. Unfortunately, the Orc killed the Kralzek's Beast the exact moment that Zach ran past it, and it did so by unleashing some kind of jump-slamming attack, bringing down both its axes on top of the Kralzek's Beast and fully decapitating it while hitting for 152,511.

And then, without even a tenth of a second's delay, it roared and began chasing after Zach.

"Oh, shit!" Zach cried as he slipped through the partition, pumping his arms as he ran.

The Orc did not go through the gap in the partition: it rammed through the entire wall itself. A loud bang echoed in the tower, temporarily drowning out the tick-tock from the clock above as it screamed and shouted in pursuit of Zach. Looking over his shoulder, Zach saw that the elite mob was gaining on him, so he ran even faster, his feet making loud thudding sounds against the stone flooring as alarm and terror rushed into him.

"Krest zencht harganar!" it shouted.

Zach forced his legs to move faster. He forced his body to work harder. Even as he began breathing heavily. Even as he risked tripping over himself from the sudden incredible rush of acceleration. Right ahead of him was the rectangular-shaped entrance into the tower, along with the twenty steps that led up here. He moved towards it with every single last ounce of speed he could muster.

Yet even still, he just wasn't fast enough.

Even as his body was still moving beyond the entrance and into the sunlight, the elite Orc mob, now inches behind him, was slicing at his back—and it connected, too. Zach howled in pain as he felt a tearing, burning sensation that went from his right shoulder down to his hip. It was agony. It caused him to lose control of his limbs. He tripped, and now, the world flipped upside down as he rolled over stair after stair. Yet even as he tumbled down, he could see the Legion Portal Guardian stopping abruptly, spinning around, and then running with the same extreme speed back inside the tower, which meant that the mob could not stay aggroed or pursue anything outside of the entrance.

I just got obliterated!

Zach groaned and moaned each time his body tumbled down another step until at last he found himself on his back at the base of it, not far from the foul-smelling boss that Jimmy and the others had killed.

Oh, I'm hurt bad, Zach thought, his vision going in and out. Real bad.

Zach could tell from the fact that there was something almost like a "trail" of blood leading from the rectangular entrance all the way down to the base of the twenty steps. This trail was broken up somewhat in random places, with blood missing in spots or pooling in others. But there was a shit ton of it. Quickly reaching into the front pocket of his suit near the glowing red rose on the lapel, Zach produced a red, a yellow, and a purple rejuvenation stone with shaking, trembling fingers. Then he slapped all three of them against his chest at once, with the red being for his deep, open wound, and the yellow for the missing blood. The purple was not accepted, however; it simply bounced off his chest and rolled against the bottom step before coming to a halt. This meant he had no serious internal injury to any vital organs.

Hurray, he thought ruefully, still panting and out of breath. The pain was immense. It was all he could do not to whimper. Gods, he used to be so much tougher than this. What the hell happened to him? How had he let himself go so fucking badly these past 8 months?

This was a wake-up call.

And he wasn't giving up.