Augustinus was having a terrible day, more so than normal. He already had his hands full governing the underworld of the empire, but now he also had two mages to deal with. Handling all the crooks and serial killers was already a full-time job that required constant overtime, yet he also had to control the drug trade and slave markets.
He had little to none of men who he could trust with these kinds of issues. Thus, taking his time out to help these mages bothered him immensely. 'If only that guy came back from the dead, then everything would've been fine.'
One of the mages was pleasant to work with. Although she kept refusing his advances, that made it only more interesting for him. She wasn't the smartest, but could at least read the room and use her brain to think.
The other one was more of an annoyance than anything. He followed the orders of the girl, but she barely spoke. Instead, that ogre of a man loved his own voice a little too much.
After creating two fake identities and bribing some of the Scholars, he was able to get them to use one of the few remaining temples. Locking them all down and hoarding the crystals was a move he didn't expect from that Starborn. Still, as long as there were some available, he would be able to find a way.
At first, he found it a strange move. But as mages that come from above, it would only make sense to limit their possibilities of gaining even more strength. As one of the few in the entire Underground, Augustinus had access to certain intel.
Using his own power and his connections he was certain he could get rid of the mages if they ever posed a serious threat. Hopefully, he never had to use it, since it would mean his life would be shortened to about a few cycles.
Standing in the temple, Augustinus was alone with Grok, who stood at the center of the array. Sending him off in person wasn't because he liked him or anything of the sort. Only because he saw Grok as a ticking time bomb and knew he had to pull on his reigns if the need ever came.
Grok disappeared into the trial, giving Augustinus some time to reflect.
'To think things have developed this far. It's not long until he'll make a move. Then it'll be mage on mage. Considering the current state, the result will decide how the Empire will move forward.'
With the way things were going, Augustinus knew that the throne would point their swords towards him next. Then he would have to fight against the entire Empire. He only had two mages on his team, who were quite strong, but the Starborn has clearly proved himself to be stronger than Selicia.
He stared at the crystal for a bit before flashing a big smile.
'Oh well, whoever wins in the end doesn't really matter to me. If the Starborn can defeat these two then they'll be no match as well. Knowing them, they'll toss me to the dogs to satisfy them.'
Augustinus laughed a bit. 'If they dare to do so, I'll show them what it means to break a deal.'
Grok, who was transported into the completely white space, felt his head split open as the room observed him. The pain was something he wasn't used to. If swords sliced his body or fire burned his skin, he had a great tolerance, but mental attacks always got the best of him.
Falling to his knees he started to punch the completely white ground as hard as he could hoping that the pain would subside if he damaged the room enough. Eventually the pain stopped, but Grok was already in a bad mood.
The room filled with endless white was exchanged with a cold and dead room. The room was dimly lit thanks to the few fire baskets placed against each wall.
[Would you like to start the first trial?]
"Hmm? Hey you! Get out here!", Grok yelled, clearly not satisfied with the way things were going. If there was one thing he didn't like it was being watched and toyed with. People who looked down on him from above were only asking to get beat.
[Would you like to start the first trial?]
Grok frowned before calming down. The image of Selicia appeared in his mind. If he was able to get the rewards from this trial, wouldn't he be the strongest of the two? Then he would be able to become the leader again and do what he wanted. It was a tantalizing idea, but he shoved it to the back of his mind.
If she also did the trial they would just be on even ground again. So he quickly forgot about the idea. Still, it was always nice to grow stronger.
"Yes!"
[Rank 2 Wizard detected, trial adjusted]
[First Test: Survive waves of enemies. In case of emergency, please shout the words; I give up]
[First wave: 5 Black Ogres]
"Black Ogres?", Grok didn't know what these creatures were and couldn't care less. He had lessons about the beasts that roamed the world above, but he always skipped out on them or fell asleep halfway through the lectures.
All that mattered was strength in the end, nothing more. Even if you knew all the little details of a monster, if it can kill you in a single attack, what would be the point? If training during that time could prevent you from being so weak, wasn't that then the best choice?
One of the walls opened up, revealing a dark hallway. Grok stared into the darkness and felt a hint of excitement vanish as he still felt angry of what happened before. Luckily, this would be perfect for him to release some steam.
He rushed into the hallway, yelling loudly, "Get over here!"
Stampeding into the hallway like a bull, the unlucky Black Ogre that was venturing towards the center room was trampled. Slowing down he arrived in a smaller room where the remaining ogres looked at Grok with a glint of fear in their eyes.
He didn't let up as he ran towards the nearest ogre and punched straight ahead. The ogre lifted his shield only for it to be blasted apart. In that slight moment one of the ogres sneaked behind Grok before shoving its sword in his back.
"Hmm? Oh.", stretching his back, he reached for the sword to pull it out. Blood flowed out of his back for only a moment before it closed back up. Inspecting the weapon Grok didn't understand it. It looked as if mana was infused into the blade, but he didn't care. Weapons were nothing but tools the weak relied on.
Throwing it aside, he turned around and hit the ogre who assaulted him with the back of his hand. Its head exploded in a bloody mess. Grok stared at the collapsing body as the other ogres got close and swung their weapons.
His skin sliced into pieces, Grok didn't even flinch in the slightest. He reached out and grabbed the head of one of the ogres. It struggled fiercely, even using its teeth to bit in his hand. Yet Grok stood still like it was nothing. Clenching his fist tight, the head exploded.
Turning towards the other ogres, he strangely didn't feel any excitement. When he fought the barbarian, he was happy, yet now there was nothing. There were only two left and both didn't have the motivation to continue. They looked afraid, terrified of the giant in front of them.
Grok didn't waste his time any further, pummeling both ogres into the ground with his bare fists.
[Congratulations!]
[You have survived the first wave!]
[Resetting chamber]
[Second wave: 10 Ghouls]
Grok stayed silent as he looked at the ceiling. He didn't know where the voice came from, but it upset him. Walking towards the central room again, he heard noises down a newly opened corridor.
He didn't know what a ghoul was or what it did, all he knew was that all beasts can easily die by punching it hard enough. Strutting down the hallway, he hit anything that came close to him. His fists covered in blood and remnants of organs, he easily cleared out the chamber.
The ghouls were able to scratch him a bunch of times, but his body endured.
[Congratulations!]
[You have survived the second wave!]
[Resetting chamber]
[Final wave: 1 Elite Einherjar]
Hearing that voice again, speaking to him from somewhere he couldn't see, he felt irritated. His body now covered in wounds from the ghouls, they all healed by the time he got back to the main room.
A third and final corridor opened up. He heard a rhythmic thump coming from down the hallway. The presence was something incomparable to the first two waves.
"Hohoh!", Grok felt a strong presence down the hall, something that ignited his heart. All the annoying thoughts that plagued his mind were washed away as his excitement soared.
He took a few steps back to wait for this so called Einherjar. The thumping eventually stopped as a figure appeared in the doorway.
A towering figure stood before him. His broad shoulders and muscular chest are barely concealed by layers of fur and leather, stitched together from the hides of beasts he has likely slain with his bare hands.
His skin had a rugged, weathered look, as if shaped by years of battle and harsh winters, with faint scars tracing across his biceps and forearms, marks of past victories. His beard, thick and wild, is braided into three tight cords that reach down to his chest.
Long, unkempt hair tumbles from beneath a dented iron helmet, its edges lined with battle-worn scratches. The helmet itself covers only his forehead and nose, leaving his intense, storm-gray eyes exposed.
The man rivaled Grok in height and mass. His muscles were hidden underneath his garments, but Grok could tell what kind of power he held. With his arms as thick as tree trunks it was hard to hide it in the first place.
"Hahaha! Perfect! This will be a lot more fun, throw those weapons away, let's fight as men!"
The man in front of him understood Grok's gestures and placed his weapon at his side while putting his shield on his back. Seeing his relaxed movements Grok noticed that his skin was a bit gray.
Still, the confidence on display only fueled Grok's desire to fight. The man in front of him raised his arms to the side and lifted his head slightly, trying to look down on Grok.
Seeing his opponent was ready, Grok dashed forward punching straight towards the man's face. He simply lifted his hand to meet Grok's attack. Catching it in his bare hand, he punched Grok in the gut, pushing him all the way back to the wall.
"Hehehe.", Grok stood up but stumbled and collapsed on his knee. Looking down, the first of the man was clearly implanted in his sides. He was proud of his body, boastful of it even. His training was different from all the other mages.
He didn't have the skills to perform well when it came to studying runes and spells. Rather, there was a certain type of magic training that perfectly fit him. Long ago there were certain schools that dedicated their time to explore this technique, yet most have died out.
By inscribing certain runes on the core and undergoing a certain grueling training, it allowed the body to grow larger and more muscular. It also made it so that all mana within the core would be used instinctively. Wounds would heal almost immediately, and his physical strength would be aided by the mana that was circulating in his body.
The only way to get more mana in his body would be to manually release it or by a fight. If he had wounds, Light magic was needed to heal them, the more wounds the more mana that was freed from the core. By not releasing any of the mana when he fought, he retained his strength and most of his mana.
Since Grok was used to having all his wounds healed the fact that the Einherjar was able to leave such a wound behind excited him. He didn't have to hold back here, he could go all out and the man would probably still stand strong.
"Hahaha! Yes! Yes! This is more like it!", rushing back at the man, he punched forward again, this time the man caught it, but his arm was pushed back. He wasn't surprised though as he once again went to punch Grok, but the same trick rarely work on Grok.
He wasn't the smartest, learning spells was a fantasy for him, but when it came to battle instinct, it was quite literary beating into him. Seeing an attack once, his mind was able to remember each minute movement. Getting hit twice by the same attack would only be done deliberately.
As the fist flew towards the same spot, Grok moved his body a tiny bit at the last second to grab his arm. With both fists stuck, the bearded man was surprised he missed, but then Grok suddenly jumped up and drop-kicked the man.
He slid a few meters back before he stopped in place. He almost wanted to collapse to his knees to take a breather, but couldn't. Suddenly, the man laughed.
"ᚾᛖᚡᛖᚱ ᛖᛪᛈᛖᚲᛏᛖᛞ ᛋᚢᚲᚺ ᚨ ᛋᛏᚱᛟᚾᚷ ᛟᛈᛈᛟᚾᛖᚾᛏ, ᛏᚺᛖ ᛚᚨᛋᛏ ᛟᚾᛖ ᚹᚨᛋ ᚾᛟ ᚠᚢᚾ ᚨᛏ ᚨᛚᛚ, ᚨ ᛏᛖᚱᚱᛁᛒᛚᛖ ᛟᚾᛖ.", a bunch of gibberish came out of his mouth, confusing Grok.
"What are you talking about?"
"ᚺᛟᚹ ᛋᚨᛞ ᚹᛖ ᚲᚨᚾ'ᛏ ᚲᛟᚾᚡᛖᚱᛋᛖ, ᚨ ᛈᛁᛏᚤ. ᛟᚺ ᚹᛖᛚᛚ, ᛚᛖᛏ'ᛋ ᛚᛖᛏ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚠᛁᛋᛏᛋ ᛞᛟ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛏᚨᛚᚴᛁᚾᚷ", the man kept spouting nonsensical things, impossible to understand. Then he lifted his fists in the air as if to say that his fists would continue the conversation.
"Oh, I see. Indeed, let's do this!", Grok understood his stance and followed suit. Taking the stance of a boxer, they observed each other for a moment before fists started to go flying.
A right hook from the Einherjar was instantly blocked by Grok's arm, but the punch itself broke the bones in his arm. Countering with a right hook himself, the exact same happened to his opponent.
They fought like wild animals, trying to hit each other as hard as they could possibly muster. Not only their strength, but also their speed increased each passing minute. Suddenly, Grok got kicked in his abdomen, pushing him towards the wall.
The pain in his stomach felt real, that tingling feeling spread over his skin. Smiling, blood flowed through his teeth. He just laughed it off, "What a refreshing feeling. I guess I should start getting a bit serious."
Straightening his back. He lifted his arm behind him, copying the stance of the barbarian he fought some time ago. The Einherjar assumed a defensive position, he didn't know what that stance was, but something inside him warned him.
Magic flowed through Grok's body, enhancing his speed and strength further as he suddenly appeared before the Einherjar his fist aimed straight at his chest the punch was powerful enough to blast a fist sized hole through his body. Part of his heart was visibly trying it absolute best to pump blood.
Grok retracted his fist to look at the damage he caused, it was a lot better than he imagined. Such power could only be unleashed after a brutal fight. If he used that technique in the very beginning he wouldn't even scratch the man.
The man reached towards his chest and felt the cavity. He wasn't even shocked to see his wounds, even Grok felt a bit off seeing how nonchalant he was acting. If the same happened to him, he would at least show some emotion.
"ᚾᛟ, ᚾᛟᛏ ᚤᛖᛏ, ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᛁᛋᚾ'ᛏ ᛟᚡᛖᚱ ᚤᛖᛏ.", the man spoke some strange words before plunging his hand inside his chest, ripping his heart out. He held it high, the heart still thumping a few more times as he started to squeeze it tight.
"ᛟᚺ, ᚨᛚᛚ ᚴᚾᛟᚹᛖᚱ! ᚷᛁᚡᛖ ᛗᛖ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᛏᚱᛖᚾᚷᛏᚺ ᛏᛟ ᛒᛖᛋᛏ ᛗᚤ ᛖᚾᛖᛗᚤ!", his speech held a strange magical tint to it, it reverberated throughout the room. His heart caught on fire as the avatar of a Dark Raven appeared behind him.
The Raven simply stared from afar, but the energy it gave off gravitated towards the Einherjar, his body, which should've long collapsed, stood strong as he hit his own chest once more to show the fight wasn't over yet.
His eyes gained a dark blue tint as he suddenly struck Grok straight in the face, breaking his nose in an instant. He flew against the wall, breaking it apart. Laying in the rouble and covered in dust, Grok needed a moment to remember which way was up.
Removing the rubble on top of him, he felt that he barely escaped death just then. Still, that feeling didn't stay as he stood back up, his face reforming back to its original shape in an unnatural way.
Cracking his neck, Grok stared at the now dark blue eyes of the man. The Raven behind him had decreased in size. Even now, it was slowly shrinking. It was obvious that if Grok stalled for time, he would win in the end, but that wasn't how he was going to play it. It wasn't honorable, it wouldn't show respect for his opponent.
"Time to stop playing around.", Grok bend his knees slightly as he tightened the muscles around his abdomen, forcing the mana out of his core. Using all his willpower and pure strength, he forced every last bit of energy out of his core.
Overloading his pathways, his veins started to bulge out of his skin, blood started to flow from beneath his nails and eyes. His power was the highest he had ever achieved, his entire stock of mana was swirling around his body, it was extremely hard to control, he had to remove it as fast as he could.
Taking a slow step forward he clearly showed the man that he was going for a straight punch. The Einherjar greeted the challenge with the same attack. Their fists collided, breaking the ground beneath them. Both Grok and Einherjar felt their arms break, almost exploding.
Grok's almost instantly reformed back to its normal state at the cost of some of his active mana. The Einherjar was less lucky, the skin and muscles had exploded from his arm, bones were shattered. It was useless now. Still, the man showed almost no emotion, but he was distracted.
Taking advantage of his regeneration powers, Grok stepped closer and uppercutted his chin, blasting him to the ceiling. While falling down Grok jumped for him to smash him down, completely obliterating the ground.
Blood was everywhere, the Raven was gone, turned into a blue mist.
"ᚺᚨᚺᚨᚺᚨ, ᚹᚺᚨᛏ ᚨ ᚠᛁᛏᛏᛁᚾᚷ ᛖᚾᛞ! ᚤᛟᚢ'ᚱᛖ ᚨ ᚠᛁᚾᛖ ᚹᚨᚱᚱᛁᛟᚱ, ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛟᚢᛚᛞ ᛞᛟ ᚹᛖᛚᛚ ᛏᛟ ᛃᛟᛁᚾ ᚢᛋ ᛁᚾ ᛟᚢᚱ ᚺᚨᛚᛚ ᚹᚺᛖᚾ ᚤᛟᚢᚱ ᛏᛁᛗᛖ ᚲᛟᛗᛖᛋ. ᛟᚢᚱ ᚷᛟᛞ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᚹᛖᛚᚲᛟᛗᛖ ᚤᛟᚢ ᚹᛁᛏᚺ ᛟᛈᛖᚾ ᚨᚱᛗᛋ, ᛗᛖᚨᛞ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛈᛚᛖᚾᛏᚤ ᛟᚠ ᛗᛖᚨᛏ, ᚺᚨᚺᚨᚺᚨ"
The man laughed even when his jaw was almost completely gone, the hole in his chest started to flood with blood and organs. After the man's laugh stopped, all that was left was complete silence until
[Congratulations!]
[You have completed the first test!]
[Starting the second test. Answer each question correctly.]
[Question 1: What is the name of your master?]
Grok wasn't even listening to the voice as he collapsed on the ground. It had been a long time since he had to fight so seriously. The toll it had on his body wasn't minor. He felt the need to get some sleep in. The only thing keeping him awake was the adrenaline rushing through his body.
The last time he was this exhausted was when he passed the final exam back during his training. Getting some rest, Grok recovered unnaturally quickly. His mana was exhausted, his core needed quite some time to be filled up again.
Since he has less control over mana, it took a lot longer to recover his energy. He still remembered the question before he went to sleep.
"That bastard, huh? It's 36 or Yagho The Terrible depending on who you ask.", it was one of the few things he would never forget. Before he became part of the assassins for the Demonic Cult, he was trained in a strict camp.
His teacher was a former student in that camp, and he was all but empathetic. To train his body and durability he endured tons of lashes and was tortured daily to raise his pain tolerance. The only thing keeping him alive was the desire to kill that man, but he never succeeded.
[Congratulations! You have answered correctly!]
[Question 2: What is the real name of Selicia?]
"Huh? That's not her name? I don't know."
[Failed. You have answered wrongly.]
The questioned continued but Grok couldn't find the answer to the remaining ones. After all was done, he was given a reward before transporting back to the altar.
Reappearing back in that place, he found Augustinus reading some papers.
"Ah, you're back, what's the reward you got?"
"Wanna see?", Grok said as he punched towards Augustinus. Lifting a single finger he stopped Grok's attack in place. Seeing the strength Augustinus had, Grok felt a bit excited to fight him.
"So nothing special? Come, we have to get out of here as quickly as possible. Let's see if the other one is any better.", Augustinus said to himself as he was already walking away, leaving a somewhat confused Grok behind.