B2 Chapter 228: Thy Strength…, pt. 1

Porkchop pricked his ears, the guild administrators’ words grabbing at his attention.

Pushing against the delicate wooden floors—ever careful to avoid gouging the expensive materials that two-legs seemed inordinately fascinated with—he rose to his haunches.

The Trial of Will? What could that be? It certainly sounded like the kind of thing that could help him push through the final blasted barrier that had been haunting him.

Ever since that delicious fight against the bogglings, he’d felt the ember of it burning away in his chest—a heat that penetrated deep in his bones, promising to remould him from the inside out.

By the Matriarchs, he wanted it done. The tantalising promise of fire was almost too much to bear. If only he could just think himself to the finish line like both of his companions had been able to.

Unfortunately, he had yet to resonate with his pillar Mentis—and even if he had, he doubted it would be as easy for him. Even with the help of his bond skill, and the reinforcement of his mind from the racial trait it had brought, he was still affected by the curse of greater beasts. Worse, since it seemed like their slower skill development stretched to the revelations required by Aspects.

Corporus, at least, seemed to be a little better. He could feel it right to his core, it was an aspect of action.

All he needed was the right environment—he wouldn’t fail. Wouldn’t stagnate. Not like the others.

“It sounds dangerous, whatever it is.” his bond-brother muttered, the scent of simple, honest, concern wafting richly from their bond.

Porkchop rolled his eyes. He didn’t understand how Kaius could be such a stalwart and fearless fighter and still manage to worry more than a nanny whenever he had to do something a little risky.

He was a meles! Pigheadedness was his birthright.

“I’ll do it,” he said, projecting his voice to the room. It still felt a little weird, structuring his thoughts into something as limiting as words—but he’d gotten a lot more comfortable with it over the last year or so.

Rieker—Patriarch in a skin suit that he was—grinned at his words, clapping his hands loud enough that Porkchop had to flick his ears back to avoid the stinging reverb.

“See! This crop is tough, Ro. He can handle it—if he really needs to be pushed to his real limit, the Trial is perfect.”

The guild manager huffed, pretending to be furious. Not for the first time, Porkchop wondered why they persisted with pretending that they were simple allies—he could smell them all over each other.

Then again, humans seemed oddly uncomfortable with the realities of living so close together for people who seemed to do so at every available opportunity. Perhaps it was just some nicety he didn’t understand.

“I can’t in good conscience let Porkchop agree without knowing what he’s getting himself into.” Ro insisted.

Rieker waved to continue, unconcerned and clearly convinced that Porkchop would agree anyway. Which he would. The Trial could involve being sawn in half and he’d still agree—hells, it would probably work.

Watching him closely, Ro groaned as she realised that his mind was already made up.

She still explained anyway.

“Crossing through to Silver is a large jump—the threats and dangers that are faced by people in the second tier vary wildly, as does the capabilities of delvers as the stat gap between rarity grows. There’s a number of trials to assess where someone falls on the scale—the results are used to ensure that priceless delvers aren’t sent off on a suicide mission.” Ro explained.

Cocking his head, Porkchop watched her curiously. That sounded…interesting. If there were multiple trials, perhaps he could try the others if this one didn’t work.

“The Trial of Will is a looping corridor built into the earth beneath every guildhall. It’s one of the few trials like that, most are too expensive to create to be economical if we were to build them everywhere. With every step, you’ll grow heavier. At first, it’s just a few extra stone—but get far enough and it will feel like your organs are being pulped.” Ro continued, jumping into her explanation of the trial.

The guild manager reeked of discontent, clearly unhappy with the idea of him undergoing the challenge. He didn’t mind, as long as she didn’t try to stop him—it just meant she was nice, even if she tried to hide it by being as bristly as a boar.

“That’s not all—with every revolution, a new torment starts to build. The temperature will start to fluctuate between hot and cold, the difference growing more extreme with every stride. Then, a droning noise that grows louder and louder. Then fatigue, discomfort, hunger, and thirst. It rarely kills—it’s entirely illusory—but I’ve seen it push people to madness.” Ro finished, watching him closely.

Honestly, it sounded perfect. It was exactly the kind of thing he needed to see where he really stopped. How far he could go if the only thing holding him back was his ability to wallow in the muck and keep on going.

Porkchop’s tail thumped into the side of Kaius’s chair.

“I don’t think that was meant to encourage you, Porkchop.” Ianmus chuckled.

Porkchop huffed at him. The elfling was right, of course—but there was no way he would let him know that.

“Of course it was! It sounds perfect—and there’s more options if it doesn’t work. What else could it have been?”

His brother sighed in defeat. “I can’t really fault you for that—I guess it’s no different than hunting down the Champions instead of waiting for our classes. I doubt anything will be able to crack you, I was just worried it might be dangerous.”

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“Oh, I like these ones, Ro—so much more refreshing than the usual stock we have to work with in this backwater.” Rieker replied, shifting in his chair as he smiled with genuine pride at Porkchop and his team.

“Not dangerous, he says—fucking greenhorns.” the guild manager muttered under her breath, folding her arms. “Idiots, the lot of you. But fine—I, at least, have the sense not to fight the inevitable.”

“It’s on your head if this goes wrong.” she said to Rieker.

Then she looked back to Porkchop, her lips pursed, even if her bright eyes gave away her true feelings of concern. “Try not to die—it’d be such a waste.”

Porkchop nodded, and then she was gone, sweeping out of Rieker’s office in a blur of motion.

“Well then, guess we best get to the trial—the stairs are one floor down, so you’ll have to follow me.” Rieker said, standing from his desk.

Porkchop nodded, and rose to his feet—his team joining him.

….

The stone floor was cold under the pads of his feet, each paved slab big enough that he could stand comfortably on a single one.

Inscriptions covered their surface, but he had little idea of what they did—even Kaius had been out of his depth, only able to identify a little of High Lothian, though the working was too complex for him to ascertain how it worked.

Laid end on end, the paved hall stretched in a wide circle—the curve gentle enough that it must have been a couple of hundred strides in total.