‘The eighth trial.’ He thought to himself, looking at the weathered altar and the rune-carved rocks lying in a circle around it. ‘It’s better to try it in the morning when I’m at my best.’ Einar decided as he flew up toward the crown of a nearby large tree, building the all too familiar rope and bedroll based night camp. When morning came, the young giant broke camp and climbed off the tree.

  He walked over to the empty area with the weathered altar, a faint sense of unease running along his spine as the broken stones that lay in a circle not too far from the altar began to hum with power. They slowly rose into the air, forming into thick, rune-carved columns that released a familiar wave of mystical energy. Once the barrier formed, a firm and coarse voice resounded in his mind.

  “Some say that might make right. Others say that it is the duty of the strong to protect the weak. No matter which path you choose, without strength, you will be crushed by your enemies.”

  As the voice spoke, a circle of green light appeared not far from Einar.

  “The trial of might will pit you against powerful enemies meant to test your mettle, each round earning you either glory and riches or defeat and death. Three rounds, three circles, one goal. Fight or die.”

  Large patches of dark smoke seeped out of the stone ground, forming pools of darkness from which monstrous hands reached out.

  “Let the trial of might begin!”

  Einar didn’t hesitate and drew his blade, running toward the nearest enemy to cut it apart. The creatures that crawled out of the darkness were different from most of the netherworld wretches he faced before. These were larger and more ferocious looking than the ones he saw before. They wore spiked armour and held different weapons, everything coated in black and red with crimson fire burning in their eyes. The young giant fought with savage swings that cut deep into his opponents, his occasional kicks shattering bones. It all felt... strange to him.

  Einar decided to fight with all of his might and it showed. Where previously he struggled against such opponents, now he defeated them with ease. Soon enough the near dozen enemies were nothing but broken and slashed apart corpses that burned up in amber-coloured flames which then floated toward the altar, gathering into a fist-sized cloud of fire. A bronze circle of light appeared in front of the altar but Einar stood still, refusing to give up so early. The circle faded in a few seconds and new patches of black smoke appeared above the ancient ground.

  New monsters crawled their way out of the liquid shadow, each more horrid than the one before it. They were at least a head taller than the previous ones, wider too by a slight margin. Their misshaped bodies oozed a black goo that hissed as it fell on the stone ground, melting tiny dents into it. The young giant didn’t wait for them to attack as he immediately swung his blade at the nearest one, his sword taking its head, but with far more effort than before. He then had to block a pitch-black blade before another one screeched across his side, leaving a faint scratch mark on his armour.

  ‘What the...’ Einar muttered to himself, dodging yet another attack before responding to it with a downward slash of his own that cut the wretch in half from its left shoulder down to its stomach. He had to kick it off his blade when the sword didn’t budge further. The fight this time lasted for a good two minutes before the last of the wretches hit the floor dead, Einar standing beside it while panting heavily. The corpses burned up in amber-coloured flames that floated toward the altar as a silver circle of light appeared in front of it.

  ‘One more round.’ He thought, trying to catch his breath in the few moments of respite he was given. The fight was harder than he expected as the monsters became much stronger than the ones from the previous round. Although he knew that he could have finished them off sooner if you used magic, this was a trial of might and he wanted to prove himself as a warrior without resorting to the aid of mystical powers. His stubbornness stoked the flames of his resolve as the silver circle faded and a new army of monsters rose from the darkness that seeped out from the ground.

  There were only nine of them this time, however, each of them was only a head or so shorter than Einar and just as hefty in mass. They wielded weapons that while pitch-black were covered in crimson runes, their shadowy armours also sporting several blood-red symbols of power. He rushed toward the first one to behead it, but his blade got stuck in its spine, prompting him to roar as he pushed his blade downward with all of his strength, the large sword lit up with a crimson hue as he poured his strength into it.

  A second later the monster’s head fell on the floor and burned away but Einar was also tackled by another one of the wretches, making him skid on the ground for a few feet before grinding to a halt. He roared with a wave of rising anger as his hair caught ablaze, his draconic pride challenged by the monster that was soon kicked back with a powerful stomp. A red haze began to fall on his mind as he ran toward the monsters, swinging his blade with the intent to destroy them. He received as many cuts as he dealt to his enemies, both his armour and his skin riddled with bloody lines.

  One by one his enemies fell before him but at a great cost as he too was bleeding from several wounds, barely standing on his feet as the last one dropped in front of him. He stabbed his blade into the ground to lean on it, the strength granted by his draconic pride leaving him fast. The remains of his enemies burned away, their flames floating toward the altar as a golden circle appeared in front of it. When he walked over and stepped into the circle, the barrier that surrounded the proving ground began to fade away.

  The seeker held his drinking horn toward the head-sized cloud of flames, burning droplets falling into it as the cloud shrank and soon disappeared. The young giant drank the searing hot liquid in one go, its heat spreading across his body with a newfound power as his wounds closed without a trace. On the altar in front of him were four items of interest, the first one being the usual handful of golden coins. He put them away while his eyes lingered on the rest of his earnings, the second one being a thumb-sized piece of amber with a droplet of... golden blood in it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The moment he grabbed the amber it cracked apart and the blood seeped out of it. A searing hot pain struck him as the blood touched his fingers, his body absorbing it in an instant. His heart began to pound wildly as the heat rushed through his very being, but it disappeared as fast as it came, leaving him with more questions than he wanted. The third reward was a rune unlike any before as it was etched on a piece of black metal, glowing with a bloody red hue.

  ‘It’s just like the ones those Netherworld wretches had on their arms and armour.’ He thought to himself while putting it away, turning his attention toward the final reward. It was a tiny stone figurine that depicted a warrior who held a severed head above himself as if to proclaim his victory. ‘It’s likely another relic.’ The seeker hummed as he pocketed the figurine. With nothing left to do at the altar, Einar had to make a decision

  Should he continue his journey toward the mountain where he believed the ninth trial to be what should it try to find the others before trying his luck with the last challenge of the island? While he wanted to continue, returning to them had its benefits as Rúna could help him make use of his rewards and telling them about the trials in advance was as good a payment as any.

  With the decision made it turned around and leapt into the air, turning into his raven form to fly away. A day of travelling later he found what he was looking for, a sizeable group of God-marked walking along the ancient for his path toward the seventh trial. For a moment they seemed anxious and ready to aim their bows at him but they soon recognized his winged form and relaxed. Einar landed not far from them, returning to his normal form before approaching them.

  “Hail, chosen of Harald!” The Vikings at the front of the group greeted him, earning a nod in return.

  “Einar.” A familiar voice called out to him, Brynhildr and the leaders of the other kingdom’s warriors walking closer.

  “What news do you bring, winged giant?” The leader of the desert kingdom’s people asked with a somewhat shaky tone, the man’s eyes jumping between the seeker and the different parts of the forest around them.

  “I’ve found the seventh and the eighth trials,” he answered curtly. “I’d say you’re about another hour or two of walking away from the seventh.”

  “I imagine you’ve already conquered them.” Takeshi asked with a knowing look in his eyes as he walked closer.

  “I did,” he admitted. “But I decided to come back to find you all before trying my luck with the last one.”

  “Do you already know where it is?” The leader of the desert people asked surprised.

  “Not for sure but if my guess is right, it will most likely be found on top of the last mountain ahead of us.”

  “It seems that we are not the only ones to believe it would be located there,” Hanako greeted him as she walked closer, followed by her protector. “Welcome back, Einar of the Arnessen Clan. I’m glad to see you safely return to us even if just for a short while. Care to tell us about your ventures while we continue our journey?”

  “There’s not much to tell but sure.” The young giant agreed as the large group slowly began to walk forward.

  Einar did as asked and spent the following half an hour telling them about how he found and conquered the seventh trial. He also told them about the lake and the strange creatures, Hanako telling him that they were most likely creatures native to their ancestral land known as Kappa. It was a strange name, but judging by what the fox-eared woman said, they usually lived in rivers and lakes. As for the giant turtle with the tree, she believed it to be a guardian spirit of nature, protecting the tree so that its fruits could only be claimed by the worthy.

  Einar then continued with his tale, of telling them about the eighth trial as well, most of them letting out a breath of relief as they found out that it was a straight-on battle against mortal creatures instead of some cryptic challenge. When he was finally done recalling the events of the past days, the giant decided to voice his questions that gnawed at him since he joined the group.

  “I noticed that people are... tense,” he said quietly to Arvid and Rúna who joined him while he was explaining the eighth trial to the others. “What’s going on?”

  “That Oni thing attacked and killed a few people yesterday.” A warrior answered with a whisper.

  “What happened?” He looked at them with a steadily darkening mood.

  “We were in the middle of breaking camp when a scout from one of the teams patrolling the area burst through the forest covered in blood, screaming like a madman that they were attacked by the Oni,” Rúna explained. “As it turned out, they weren’t the only ones. Three of the five guard teams got killed.”

  “Everyone has been on edge since then,” Arvid remarked. “We’ve been marching non-stop for hours with barely any rest. Then we slept huddled together in a small clearing with fires surrounding us and folks taking guard shifts throughout the night.”

  “You make it sound like that thing is hunting you.”

  “Because it does,” Rúna agreed with him. “It’s following us, waiting for the chance to kill us off one by one. Hanako says it’s doing so because it can somehow take a part of our power after killing us.”

  “Take our... power?” Einar looked at her surprised.

  “The one thing common among the people whom it killed was that their hearts were missing. She said that the Oni ate it. That’s how it grows stronger.”

  “Worst still,” Arvid chimed in. “Is that it can’t do the trials any more, so it will be trapped on this island once we leave. Along with the sailors and the freed thralls.”

  “Damn.” The seeker shuddered at the thought of what slaughter the Oni would do once left without anyone to challenge it.“Did you get anything good from the trials?” Rúna asked, trying to shift in their conversation.

  “I did,” the giant nodded as he handed over the pair of runes. “What can you tell me about these?”

  “Oh,” the forgemaiden hummed as she took hold of the grey stone and black metal runes. “They are powerful in their own right. The granite one is meant to increase your... presence, if I understand it right. “It’s supposed to make people pay more attention to your words. I would need to meld it into your chest armour. For the other one, it’s a weapon rune that drains your enemy’s life with each wound while healing you simultaneously.”

  “A life-steal rune,” Arvid said from the side with envy. “You really are favoured by the gods. Such a treasure must be worth a king’s ransom.”

  “If you want me to use these on your kit, you’ll have to wait until we reach the seventh trial ground.”

  “Fine by me,” the seeker shrugged. “At least you can tell me more about what has happened since we last met.”

  “It’s going to be boring compared to your adventures.” Arvid claimed before starting up a tale about the past few days.