Pummeling a god into submission was no easy feat, but Zeke was more than willing to try. His fists slammed into the god of greed with merciless fury, but aside from knocking the man backward, there was no real effect. That only meant he needed to hit him harder.

  Of course, the man wasn’t willing to just stand idly by and allow himself to be beaten to a pulp. Instead, he created a storm of gold and silver blades, diamonds that exploded on impact, and a host of other attacks that tore Zeke to pieces. However, if there was one thing Zeke could do better than just about anyone else, it was endure. He’d displayed that capability throughout his descent through the various circles of Hell, and he knew it was easily his greatest strength.

  He leaned into it, letting his battle-hungry instincts drive the divine energy within him. It flowed through his skill, [Hand of Divinity], pushing it to new heights of potency. Even as his body was ripped apart, tendrils of flesh and bone snapped out, reattaching the various pieces and dragging them back together. The second he was whole, Zeke resumed his assault – and to similar effects.

  It was a testament to his endurance – both of mind and body – that he never considered letting up. In his fury, he had become a creature of pure violence. In his mind, there was nothing but battle. No superfluous thoughts. No doubts. No goals or other desires. Just a simple and unadulterated need to beat his enemy to death with his bare hands.

  Of course, that was never going to happen, as he discovered as minutes became hours stretched into days. Never did he let up. He refused to be thrown off the path he’d chosen. Instead, he continued with the same fury with which he’d begun his assault, much to the god of greed’s chagrin.

  “Enough!” the bejeweled man screamed from time to time.

  Zeke ignored him. He wasn’t there to talk. He didn’t want to solve any puzzles. As far as he was concerned, all of his problems could be solved by virtue of his fists.

  By the end of the first month, the god had given up on his attempts to reason with Zeke. By the second, the ferocity of his reprisal had begun to wane. That continued for three more months until, at last, Zeke drew blood. It was nothing more than a busted lip, but the sight of the greedy god’s blood – which was predictably gold – was enough to drive Zeke into a frenzy.

  He redoubled his efforts, furiously attacking the perceived weakness. However, a busted lip was no debilitating injury, and Zeke lost track of time. It might have been another six months or six years before he felt the man’s jaw crack beneath his fist. But his savage ferocity never wanted. He couldn’t have stopped, even if he wanted to, his mind had descended so deep into the act itself.

  By that point, he was no more self-conscious than a purpose-built war machine. The only way he would stop was when his enemy fell for good.

  The greedy god did not remain idle. He harnessed his powers, scouring the entire circle of Hell entirely clean. He used those piles of gold to fuel his skills – if that was even how he thought of them – steadily tearing Zeke apart. But divine energy was inexhaustible. There was no end to the pool within him, and Zeke put that characteristic to the ultimate test.

  Years of use didn’t stem the flow, and he suspected that he could keep going for centuries without wane.

  The golden god seemed to understand that better than anyone, and after what felt like decades of fighting, he attempted to flee, diving deep into the pit and into the piles of gold below. Zeke followed, doggedly hounding his steps until he once again latched on. Of course, the deeper they went, the more powerful the bejeweled man became.

  That was when Zeke managed to get a rational thought through his fury. His efforts had caused some damage to the god, but it was all superficial and inconsequential. So, he forced himself to observe the man’s reactions, looking for a weakness. At first, there appeared to be none to be found. However, after a few more weeks of fighting – and being ripped to pieces – Zeke saw something that changed the entire battle.

  It was nothing more than a simple flinch, but there were volumes of meaning behind. The twitch came when Zeke’s finger brushed against one of the greedy god’s many earrings, but the movement was so violent that, even in his battle-addled state, Zeke saw it clear as day.

  And when he tried again – surreptitiously, and after another day of fighting – the reaction was similar.

  That was enough for Zeke to form a plan.

  From then on, he engaged in a furious assault not dissimilar from what had characterized the last few years of his existence. However, instead of targeting the normal weak spots – eyes, throat, and groin – Zeke went after the man’s jewelry. The first time he snatched away one of the god’s earrings, the man went wild. In a panic, he threw everything he had at Zeke, and given the power at hand, it was enough to scour an entire would of all life.

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  Zeke simply reformed each time he was destroyed, secure in the knowledge that he’d found a true weak point.

  And it made sense, too. A god of greed wouldn’t care much for his own body. But attacking his wealth was attacking the core of who he was. They were vital to his very existence.

  With his strategy established, Zeke continued his assault. The next to go was one of the god’s rings. Zeke ripped it free alongside most of the bejeweled man’s pinky finger, and against all odds, the god faltered.

  Zeke pounced on that moment of weakness, thinking he’d finally made real progress. And he had, which the god well knew. The reaction was epic, and he unleashed a level of power Zeke had yet to see. The torrent of molten gold that hit him charred him down to his skeleton, then turned even his bones to ash.

  For the first time, Zeke’s ability to regenerate was taxed, and he was forced to embrace the concept of vitality – tied to the stat – to assist in the reformation. Even then, it was a struggle, though Zeke managed it all the same – much to the god’s shock and horror.

  Of course, Zeke didn’t give the greedy god any time to contemplate the meaning behind such a feat. Instead, he threw himself back into the fray, and instead of being dissuaded by the god’s display of potency, he was emboldened by the fact that the bejeweled man had reached so deep for a response.

  It meant that Zeke had struck a nerve.

  Using that success as fuel, he forged ahead. The bejeweled god of greed became ever more protective of his powerful and glittering adornments, but Zeke simply could not be denied. The attempt was made, and the god grew increasingly panicked with every passing second. Yet, as furiously as the man ripped Zeke apart, his efforts were for naught. No matter how thoroughly he accomplished that feat, Zeke kept coming back for more.

  And with infinite tries, Zeke’s success was inevitable.

  Even the god’s attempts at flight were met with the same implacable resolve. Zeke had gone from simply enduring to overcoming, and in the space of only a few short years. Eventually, he would win. Though emerging victorious before a god was practically inconceivable for someone of his level, Zeke found himself doing just that.

  And the world shook from his effort.

  Literally and figuratively.

  He could feel divine energy racing all around him as one watcher after another became part of his audience. Yet, they could not interfere. They dared not. For reasons Zeke could only guess at, they could only observe as he broke one of their own down, one piece of jewelry at a time.

  First, Zeke tore out the man’s earrings.

  Then came the necklaces. The rings. Noserings. The piercings in his eyebrows. His crown. Zeke even pried the god’s golden teeth from his mouth and ripped his glorious robes away, leaving him broken and shivering in both fear and weakness.

  The pitiful creature looked up, pain in his eyes and venom in his voice as he spat, “You cannot do this. I am a god, you piece of trash. I will not be defeated by the likes of you.”

  “You already have been,” Zeke announced, standing over him. His own clothing was gone, leaving him entirely naked. He didn’t care. His body was whole, stronger than it had ever been before. The previous circles had withered him down to almost nothing, but his every moment of combat against the god had rebuilt his form until he had reached absolute perfection.

  “You do not know what you’ve done,” the god growled.

  “No. Not really. But whatever consequences I face, I intend to defeat them just as I have beaten you,” Zeke said. “Do you have any last words? Any last requests?”

  “I…I want everything…”

  It was a fitting last statement from the god of greed. Zeke raised his bare foot and stomped down with every ounce of strength – augmented by the very concept underlying the attribute – he could muster. His foot fell with the weight of a mountain, and the god’s head exploded.

  Zeke sighed and looked around at the destruction his years-long battle had wrought upon the landscape. There was nothing left. No one else had survived. Just barren earth, devoid of all the wealth it had once hosted.

  Yet, Zeke only had a moment to take it all in before he felt something stirring with him. The cage around his core of divine energy twisted violently as the core expanded near to bursting. Then, it broke. Not all at once, but rather, only a tiny piece – barely more than a tenth of its mass – but enough to turn the normal trickle of divine energy into what felt like a torrent. His body disintegrated as more divine energy than he’d ever experienced exploded within him.

  But Zeke’s previous exertions stood him in good stead, and he managed to endure it. It was not pleasant. It taxed him to the very limits of what he could take. Yet, he focused on the silver lining. Before the Circle of Greed, he could never have stood before such an onslaught of destructive energy. Even now, he barely managed it.

  It was a step forward, though, and absent the battle, he could focus on that to keep him moving ahead.

  Still, adapting to the cage’s rupture did not happen in mere moments. Instead, Zeke took almost a week – or maybe a month, given that his perception of time had become very skewed – before he felt capable of pushing on. During that time, he knelt before the corpse of the god he’d slain, his eyes closed in meditation as he guided divine energy throughout his body. As always, it left devastation in its wake, but [Hand of Divinity] was enough to counteract that.

  As the days wore on, Zeke began to wonder why [Hand of Divinity] functioned so much differently than the raw divine energy. What he came up with was that there was something within the skill that acted as a filter for the incredibly potent energy. Perhaps he needed to study that further if he wanted to truly adapt to the power within.

  For now, though, he focused only on the task at hand, guiding that energy in endless loops as his body continued to acclimate. And then, he finally managed to reach a point of stasis where [Hand of Divinity] could keep up. At that point, he pushed himself to his feet and once again looked around.

  In the distance, he could see his goal. It was a gate not unlike those he’d encountered in the past. Though this one was unguarded. It was the way to the next circle, which was one he’d been dreading since Eveline had described the procession of sins he would need to overcome.

  The Circle of Wrath beckoned.