The battlefield was thick with tension as Clark stepped forward to face the Gorgonaeus, his heart steady, his body thrumming with energy. The Amazons around him were still in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sight of the boy who had just saved Diana by flying—a power they had not known he possessed. But there was no time for explanations. The battle wasn't over, and the Gorgonaeus, enraged by Clark's intervention, was ready to strike again.
The creature's serpentine body twisted and coiled, its wings flaring wide as it let out a bone-chilling roar that sent shivers down the spines of the Amazons. Its eyes, glowing with an unnatural yellow light, turned toward Clark, the deadly petrification curse in full effect. Any mortal who dared meet the creature's gaze would be turned to stone instantly, but Clark wasn't afraid. He was prepared.
Beneath his armor, Clark wore Orichalcum sheet over his eyes, hidden by his Kryptonian suit. The rare metal he had retrieved from Atlantis was resistant to magic, and combined with his X-ray vision, it allowed him to see through the Gorgonaeus's petrifying gaze without being affected. The creature's most dangerous weapon was useless against him.
Clark's eyes narrowed as the Gorgonaeus reared back, preparing to strike. He was done holding back.
With a surge of energy, Clark moved, his body a blur of motion as he unleashed his full strength. His fists, each strike carrying the weight of 30 times the Statue of Liberty, crashed into the Gorgonaeus's massive form, sending shockwaves through the air with every blow. The ground beneath them trembled as Clark pounded the creature, his fists moving faster than the eye could see.
BOOM!!
The first punch sent the Gorgonaeus reeling, its massive body flying backward from the force of the blow. The second sent it crashing into the trees, uprooting them as its serpentine form twisted and writhed under the assault. Clark didn't stop. He couldn't stop.
BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!
Every punch he landed sent the monster hurtling through the air, its enormous body crashing into the earth with bone-rattling force.
The Amazons watched in awe, their eyes wide as they witnessed a boy of their princess' age—fighting with the power of a god. His strikes were precise, devastating, and unrelenting, each blow more powerful than the last. The Gorgonaeus, a creature of legend, was being battered like a ragdoll, its massive form crashing into the ground again and again as Clark's relentless assault continued.
But something was wrong.
Even as Clark struck the Gorgonaeus with his full strength, sending it flying with each punch, he realized something wasn't right. The damage wasn't adding up. Despite the force behind his blows, the creature wasn't weakening. Each time the Gorgonaeus hit the ground, it would rise again, seemingly unaffected by the devastating force of his attacks.
Clark's mind raced as he delivered another blow, his fist connecting with the creature's chest and sending it skidding across the battlefield. 'Why isn't it going down?'
"SS," Clark thought urgently, his eyes still locked on the Gorgonaeus as it recovered from his latest attack. "Something's wrong. My strikes aren't doing as much damage as they should. It's like the creature's being protected."
SS responded immediately, its voice calm but focused.
[Analyzing the situation… The data suggests that the Gorgonaeus is being fortified by an external source of magic. There is an enormous force of magic surrounding the creature, acting as a ward to protect it from physical damage. Your attacks are powerful, but the magic is absorbing the brunt of the impact.]
Clark cursed under his breath, his fists tightening. Circe. This had to be her doing. She was manipulating the trial, using her magic to strengthen the Gorgonaeus, making it nearly invincible. No matter how hard he hit it, the creature would keep coming back as long as that magic shield was in place.
"So how do I stop it?" Clark asked, his frustration mounting. "If my strength isn't enough, what will work?"
SS paused for a moment before replying.
[The analysis suggests that magical weapons or magic-based attacks are more effective against the Gorgonaeus. Physical strength alone cannot break through the protective magic. You need to use a weapon imbued with magic.]
Clark's mind raced. A magical weapon… His eyes flickered to the pouch at his side—the one Philippus had given him before he entered the forest. Inside was the ceremonial sword Hippolyta had passed to him through Philippus, a weapon crafted by Amazonian artisans, imbued with the magic of their people. It had been given to him as a gift, a token of trust, but now it seemed it was exactly what he needed.
His hand moved quickly to the pouch, drawing the blade from its sheath. The sword gleamed in the dim light of the forest, its edge shimmering with the faint glow of magic. It wasn't just a ceremonial blade; it was a weapon designed to cut through even the most powerful enchantments.
Clark tightened his grip on the hilt, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face the Gorgonaeus. The creature was rising again, its body coiling as it prepared to strike, but this time, Clark was ready.
VROOM!!
With a burst of speed, Clark launched himself toward the creature, the magical sword flashing in his hand. The Gorgonaeus lashed out, its massive tail whipping toward him, but Clark was faster. He dodged the strike effortlessly, his body a blur as he closed the distance between them.
SLASH!
In a single, fluid motion, Clark brought the sword down, the blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. The magical edge of the sword cut deep into the Gorgonaeus's hide, and for the first time, the creature let out a roar of pain.
ROAR!!
The effect was immediate.
Where Clark's fists had only sent the creature flying, the sword cut through its magical defenses, severing the protective barrier that had shielded the Gorgonaeus from harm. The creature recoiled, its body writhing in agony as the blade sank deep into its flesh.
Clark didn't hesitate. He pressed the attack, slashing at the creature with the full force of his Kryptonian strength behind each swing. The blade cut through the Gorgonaeus's body with ease, the magic of the sword tearing through the creature's wards like they were paper.
The Gorgonaeus shrieked, its once impenetrable form now vulnerable to Clark's attacks. Each strike from the sword sent shockwaves through the battlefield, the creature's massive body thrashing wildly as it tried to escape the onslaught.
But Clark wasn't going to let it escape.
With a final, powerful swing, Clark brought the sword down, cutting deep into the Gorgonaeus's chest. The creature let out one last, deafening roar before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching as the last remnants of Circe's magic faded from its form.
For a moment, the battlefield was silent.
Clark stood over the fallen creature, his chest heaving, the sword still glowing faintly in his hand. The Amazons, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally began to stir, their eyes wide with awe and disbelief. The boy, Kal-El, had just brought down the Gorgonaeus—one of the most fearsome creatures in Amazonian legend.
Diana, still catching her breath from the ordeal, looked up at Clark with a mixture of relief and admiration. "Kal-El… you did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Clark turned to her, offering a small, exhausted smile. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I guess I did."
But even as the words left his mouth, Clark still kept his vigilance high. Circe was still out there, watching, waiting. The trial may have been won, but the trouble had only just begun.
---
High above the battlefield, concealed within her sanctum of shadows and magic, Circe watched the events unfolding below with wide, disbelieving eyes. What had started as a game—her amusement at watching Kal-El's struggle—had turned into something far beyond her expectations. She had underestimated him. For the first time in centuries, a cold sliver of doubt crept into her thoughts, and it was laced with something Circe wasn't used to feeling—fear.
She had watched Kal-El tear through her labyrinth with the speed of a god, defying every trick, every obstacle she had placed before him. That alone had been impressive, but now, watching him stand over the defeated Gorgonaeus, a creature that should have been invincible under the protection of her magic, Circe's shock turned to frustration.
"How?" she muttered under her breath, her fingertips twitching as she felt the remnants of her magical wards crumble like dust. "How could a mere boy…?," she murmured, her voice laced with disdain. 'But even so, my magic… should have been unbreakable!'
She had given the Gorgonaeus everything—strength, speed, layers of protective enchantments, and yet Kal-El had shattered them all. Even now, as she watched him, Circe could feel the energy radiating from the boy. His strength was raw, untapped, like a living storm that had yet to fully unleash its fury. And that terrified her.
For all her power, Circe had never encountered something quite like him. The Gorgonaeus had been meant to crush him, to test him, but instead, it had only shown her the depths of his potential. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the scene unfold, her mind already spinning with new possibilities.
"This changes things," Circe whispered, pacing the length of her sanctum. Her dark robes flowed behind her, tendrils of magic sparking at her fingertips. "He's more dangerous than I anticipated."
She waved her hand, the mirror-like surface before her shifting to display Kal-El as he lowered the Amazonian sword, his body still humming with power. His very presence disrupted the natural order of things, and Circe could feel it in her bones—he was not someone she could easily manipulate or control. His strength was godlike, yes, but there was more to him. His heart, his spirit—it burned brighter than anything she had encountered in centuries.
But Circe was not one to cower. No. She thrived on power and chaos, and though Kal-El had bested her today, she would not let this stand. If anything, this young male had piqued her curiosity even more.
Circe smiled darkly, her eyes gleaming with renewed determination. "You may have won today, Kal-El," she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. "But this is far from over. I will learn your secrets… and when the time comes, I will use them to break you."
With a flick of her wrist, the mirror's image faded, leaving only darkness in its wake. Circe's mind churned, already plotting her next move, her desire for revenge—and perhaps something more—fueling her every thought.
---
Queen Hippolyta stood in the stillness of her throne room, the enchanted communication tool warm in her hand. Philippus had just finished her report on the battle at the edge of the mystical forest. The Gorgonaeus's unexpected attack had tested the Amazons like never before, but it was Kal-El who dominated Hippolyta's thoughts.
She had sensed that Kal-El was special from the moment he arrived on Themyscira, but even in her wisdom, she hadn't foreseen what he truly was. He had revealed only his name and his origin from the world of men, keeping his full nature hidden. The boy had shown strength and humility, and even though Hippolyta had sensed something powerful about him, the reality of his abilities was beyond anything she had expected.
The battle had proven that.
Philippus had described Kal-El's godlike strength, speed, and abilities as he fought the Gorgonaeus—how he had flown into the sky to save Diana, and how he had wielded the ceremonial sword with ease to destroy the monster. The boy's power had stunned even the most seasoned warriors of Themyscira, and now, Hippolyta understood what she was truly dealing with.
Kal-El wasn't just strong—he was godlike, and his abilities were far beyond mortal understanding. But what made him remarkable wasn't just his power. It was his heart.
Hippolyta had seen it in the way he protected Diana without hesitation, risking his own life to save her. Despite his immense strength, Kal-El carried himself with humility and honor. He had the instincts of a protector, not a conqueror, and that was what made him truly exceptional.
A realization settled over Hippolyta. She was dealing with a being of immense power, but one with a gentleman's heart. This boy could be guided, and if nurtured correctly, he could become a powerful ally for Themyscira. She had seen his fondness for Diana—it was clear in the way he interacted with her. He respected her, admired her, and that connection could be used to Themyscira's advantage.
Kal-El could teach Diana what it meant to wield power with responsibility, and Diana could be the grounding force that ensured Kal-El remained the man he was, not the god he could become.
Hippolyta smiled to herself. She would guide Kal-El, using his bond with Diana to her advantage. Together, they could shape the future—both for Themyscira and the world.
"Your Majesty," Philippus's voice echoed through the communication tool, bringing Hippolyta back to the moment. "What are your orders?"
Hippolyta's gaze turned toward the horizon. "Kal-El has proven himself today. He has earned his place as an ally of Themyscira. We will honor that."
There was a pause. "His power is beyond anything we've ever seen," Philippus added cautiously.
Hippolyta nodded to herself. "Yes. And that is why we must guide him. He has a heart of gold. But he is young. We must ensure that his power remains in the service of good."
"As you command, Your Majesty," Philippus replied.
The communication faded, and Hippolyta stood quietly, her thoughts now focused on the future. Kal-El had shown his potential, but she would make sure that he stayed the protector he was meant to be—with Diana by his side.
---