The arena was a sunken pit surrounded by jagged stone walls, lit by torches that flickered ominously in the dim light. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and charred wood. Kalem stood at the center, gripping his spear tightly, sweat already beading on his forehead. Across the pit, a massive iron gate creaked open, and a low growl echoed from the shadows.
"The Emberhound," Vornar's voice boomed from above, his tone as cold as ever. "A beast of flame and fury. Your task is simple: subdue it using only the weapons you've forged."
Kalem swallowed hard. He had heard stories of Emberhounds—fiery predators with molten fur and a heat aura that could ignite the very ground they walked on. They were fast, relentless, and nearly impossible to contain. Kalem tightened his grip on the jagged spear he'd forged, the grooves along the blade glinting faintly in the torchlight.
The creature emerged, its eyes glowing like twin coals. Its body was sleek yet muscular, its blackened fur glowing with fiery embers that hissed and sparked with every movement. Heat radiated from it in waves, distorting the air around it.
Kalem took a deep breath. "Let's see if this thing holds up."
The Emberhound didn't wait for Kalem to make the first move. It charged, a blur of heat and flame, its claws gouging the stone as it lunged. Kalem barely had time to raise his shield before the beast slammed into him, the force nearly knocking him off his feet.
The shield held, but the metal glowed red-hot where the Emberhound's claws had raked against it. Kalem shoved the beast back, his arm screaming in protest from the impact, and swung his spear in a wide arc. The blade caught the Emberhound's shoulder, leaving a shallow gash that hissed and steamed, but the creature barely flinched.
It circled him, its movements fluid and predatory. Kalem could feel the oppressive heat growing, each breath searing his lungs. He thrust the spear again, aiming for its legs, but the Emberhound leapt over the attack with terrifying agility, landing behind him.
Kalem spun, barely raising his shield in time to deflect another swipe. The claws caught the edge of the shield, hooking into the grooves he had designed to trap an enemy's attacks. With a twist, Kalem yanked the Emberhound off balance and thrust his spear toward its exposed flank.
The spear connected, driving deep into the Emberhound's side. For a moment, Kalem thought he had the upper hand. But then the beast roared, a deafening sound that reverberated through the arena. Its heat aura surged, and with a burst of strength, it broke free, snapping the spear in half as it twisted away.
Kalem stumbled back, clutching the broken shaft in disbelief. The Emberhound snarled, its wound glowing with molten fury as it paced toward him, each step igniting the ground beneath it.
"Damn it," Kalem muttered, tossing the useless spear aside. His mind raced. He still had the dagger from the third trial—a small, precise weapon, but hardly suited for a creature of this size and ferocity. He needed another plan.
Kalem's eyes darted around the arena, searching for anything he could use. The uneven ground, littered with debris from past trials, caught his attention. A series of jagged rocks and loose rubble lined one side of the pit, forming a narrow passage that the Emberhound would have to navigate carefully.
The beast lunged again, and Kalem rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding its fiery jaws. He scrambled toward the rocky passage, shouting to draw the Emberhound's attention. "Come on, you overgrown torch! Let's see if you're as tough as you look."
The Emberhound growled and charged after him, its claws sparking against the stone. Kalem darted into the passage, weaving between the rocks. The Emberhound followed, its larger frame struggling to maneuver in the confined space.
Kalem waited until the beast was fully committed, then turned and struck. He slashed at its legs with the dagger, the blade finding its mark with brutal precision. The Emberhound stumbled, its momentum carrying it into a jagged outcrop of rock. Before it could recover, Kalem leapt onto its back, driving the dagger into the base of its skull with all his strength.
The Emberhound let out a final, shuddering growl before collapsing, its fiery aura flickering out. Kalem rolled off its lifeless body, gasping for air and clutching the still-warm dagger.
The arena was silent except for Kalem's labored breathing. Slowly, he climbed to his feet, dragging the dagger with him as he approached the center of the pit. The Emberhound's body smoldered behind him, the scent of charred flesh filling the air.
Vornar descended into the arena, his expression unreadable. He examined the beast, then turned to Kalem. "You're resourceful," he admitted. "You turned the battlefield to your advantage and used your wits when your weapon failed."
Kalem straightened, wiping soot from his face. "Does that mean I passed?"
Vornar's eyes narrowed. "You passed… barely. But improvisation alone won't save you next time. A smith's creations must endure, or they're worthless. Remember that."
Kalem nodded, though his exhaustion dulled the sting of the critique. He had survived, and for now, that was enough. As Vornar left the arena, Kalem glanced back at the Emberhound's body, a flicker of pride warming him despite the ache in his muscles.
The forge had tested him once again, and he had endured. But the final trial still loomed, and Kalem knew it would demand everything he had left—and more.