Bacon Macleod
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B3 Chapter 348: Perseverance, pt. 1
🕑 Added 2025-07-20 22:07:54 +0000 UTCThe first thing he felt was a gust of warm wind against his skin — everywhere.
Kaius grit his teeth, ignoring the absence of his armour’s comforting pressure as he got his bearings. He still had his blade, its heavy weight tugging at his grip — that was enough.
He was in the middle of some sort of amphitheatre — hot sand doing its best to scald his bare feet. The pit that held him was easily fifty longstrides wide, encircled by a tall wall of stone. He judged the height — ten longstrides. Too tall for him to scale even with a run up.
Above it, rows upon rows of tiered stands were filled to the bursting with a crowd of cowled figures. Built with the same smooth hewn stone blocks as the pit itself, it gave an imposing visage. Effort had gone into its construction — a weight of planning and effort that spoke of reverence and ritual.
Kaius spun, scanning the crowd. Truesight was unable to pierce the darkness that clouded their hoods, leaving them a faceless mass of silent watchers.
As scorching midday sun beat down upon him, Kaius turned his focus back to the pit itself. This was a trial — constructed and built for him alone. Whatever came next, he wouldn’t allow himself to be shaken by simple pageantry.
One thing was certain — he was in some sort of arena. Thick, reinforced wooden doors were set at even intervals around the walls of the sandpit — no doubt entrances for fighters to compete for the favour of the watching spectators.
He scanned himself — only to freeze in shock as he took a closer stock of what he had available to him.
It wasn’t his total nakedness; he’d noticed that as soon as he’d felt the breeze, and he was more than capable of fighting unarmoured.
It was his glyphs — they were gone. Where intricate black markings had once graced his chest, hands and feet, there was now only pale flesh.
Racing inwards, Kaius found only more unpleasant surprises. Deep in the innermost reaches of his soul, he found his mana and stamina bound by the implacable authority of the system. Clad in barriers of adamant and godly intent, he was utterly cut off from their strength.
Only his health remained unburdened.
A grievous wound to his fighting ability that went deeper than the removal of his spells and class Skills — without access to his stamina, he would tire like a mortal. His stats would help, excluding Intelligence and Willpower, they all had somewhat of a synergistic effect on raising his physical fitness and endurance to supernatural levels, Strength — and to a lesser extent, Dexterity — most especially.
Still, he was strong — his full capabilities would tire him out eventually.
Kaius tightened his grip on his blade. No matter — he could do this. He had his blade, his health, and his general skills. Regardless of what the trial threw at him, he would win.
He didn’t need magic to be deadly, and multiple of his legacy Skills bolstered his physical capabilities and endurance — to say nothing of his Beastblood.
No matter what Xenanra had said, he could feel in his bones that this would be a fight. Afterall, Corporus was the aspect of the body, and what greater trial was there than pitching the foundations of your might against another? What greater ordeal could there be than putting your very life on the line to prove yourself the better?
Sharp excitement shot down his spine, every hair on his body raising in spite of the warm summer air. Deep within his chest, his heart thumped a beat of violence, sparking a song that hungered for what he knew would come.
All worry, all distractions, fell away. The lack of his armour. The chaining of his status. The plight of his team. All of it. There was only the latent strength that coiled within him, and the comforting weight of his sword in hand — its edge seeming to bleed into the heat distorted air that rose from the sand.
The crowd rose as one, as if they could sense his hunger and readiness. A sprawling mass, they stomped their feet in unison — striking a rhythmic beat that shook the foundations of the arena.
Every step resonated through the ground and up into Kaius’s chest. He immersed himself into its tempo, slowing his breathing as razor-edged aggression masked itself in calm relaxation.
Before he could wonder what the trial would require of him, a notification appeared in his eye — joined by a subtle chime.
*Ding! You have challenged the Trial of Perseverance!*
*Immerse yourself in Corporus, and prove your ability through strength of arm, persistence of body, and skill.*
*Defeat all challenges of the Arena of Rethern, or forfeit at any time to return to safety. Be warned, cowardness has no place on the Path — to forfeit is to abandon this Crucible!*
Kaius embraced the welling manic joy of his bloodsong with open arms, smiling with genuine joy.
If he was to immerse himself deeply in his pillar, a labour of willpower and persistence was perfect for him. What did it matter that he had been cut off from his Skills and most of his Resources? This trial had been designed with that in mind.
If it wanted him to cut and tear his way to victory with nothing but his blade and his body, he would show it how eager he was.
That he could forfeit was meaningless — what could possibly force him to do so? He would not have entered in the first place if he wasn’t determined to grow — to struggle his way up a path that he now knew lead to ascendancy.
His confidence in his might was without question — now he only needed to prove it.
Multiple doors slammed open. Kaius spun. Five, equally spread around the wall, leading to halls cloaked in the same impenetrable shadows that guarded the identity of his watchers.
He felt a chime in the back of his mind as Truesight threw itself again and again at the magic that clouded his gaze — to no avail.
Kaius gripped A Father’s Gift in both hands, holding it angled out from his waist — a versatile mid-guard. He felt its newly increased weight, the subtle changes to its balance and length.
A good fight would be just what he needed to grow used to them.
He saw a silhouette in the hall, barely visible through concealing shadow. Cowled and tall — just like the audience. Spinning, he confirmed there was one approaching from every door.
Their heights varied, ranging from close to his own height to a head and a half shorter. They were armed — two arming swords, a greatsword, a battleaxe, and a spear.
He kept himself relaxed, circling to keep them in his sights. Without stamina, he would need to pace himself; conserve his motion to hold exhaustion at bay. This would be no unleashed sprint, but a test of his skill and control.
A flicker of focus brought the spear-wielder’s status up.
Human - Level 200:
Challenger
It only took him a heartbeat to confirm the rest had identical designations from the system. The peak of the first tier, with no indication of their fighting role. Common sense said he would be far their physical superior — the fact that this was a challenge built for him suggested he would not be so lucky.
In unison, the challengers crossed the threshold to the area and broke into a sprint.
Kaius grinned, ready to prove himself as he held his ground. They struck as one.
Spinning to the side, Kaius slipped around a leading spear thrust and lunged into a stab at the neighbouring challenger.
A heavy axe swung for his head. He aborted, leaning on his Legacy to lurch to the side with supernatural grace — his blade whirred, melting into the air as he twisted into a counter attack.
Before he could cut through the axeman’s neck, the spear user thrust at his chest again. Kaius smashed the blow aside, feeling the flush of exertion already building.
He had to move — encirclement had left him on the defensive. Racing forwards, he charged straight at the challengers with arming swords. From a high guard, he flicked into two rapid parries, smacking their incoming slashes aside. Shouldering the left one, he shoved them back — breaking free.
The group of five charged after him. Kaius breathed steady and even as he held an ironclad defence. He was their superior — almost untouchable with his reborn blade. Every cut through the air shimmered, blood saturating the sand as his opponents misjudged his counter attacks.
The blood sung to him, stoked his fire to new heights. With their numbers, he’d only managed to leave light wounds so far, but his first victory was coming. He could smell it.
Parrying a one handed thrust of an arming sword, Kaius twisted his wrists — breaking their bind to slide into a lancing strike of his own.
It was knocked away by a heavy chop from the greatsword toting challenger — their strength matching their size. He spun to the left, rolling under a sideway hack of a greataxe and slipping around a lancing spearthrust.
His blade blurred. An arm fell to the sand, still clutching an arming sword. Still moving, he lunged towards one of the other sword-wielding challengers, cracking his pomel into their skull before raising his blade to block a racing axe.
Force jolted through his arms — he held strong. Wrenching the weapon to the side, he leapt forward. Heat and stinging pain brushed his ribs as the greatsword user cut his flesh.
A minor injury of no consequence.
His rising slash caught the axeman under its chin. Paper thin crystal cut flesh and bone with equal ease. Their head fell open, splattering brain on the arena floor.
*Ding! You have defeated Human - Challenger: Level 200 - Experience Denied due to Tier Limit!*
Dancing back from the clustered melee, Kaius smiled as his opponents tore into him twice more — blood dripping from his bicep and thigh. Flesh wounds, well worth the cost to lower their numbers.
The spearman charged.
Kaius kicked the sand, it sprayed up — right into their shadowed face. Shoving their spear to the side, he charged in.
The greatswordsman tried to cut off his advance. Kaius was faster. He struck like a viper, punching his blade deep into the spearman's face before he ripped it out and sideways.
*Ding! You have defeated Human - Challenger: Level 200 - Experience Denied due to Tier Limit!*
Blood splattered his chest as he knocked away the greatswordsman’s cleaving strike at his chest.
Doom screamed in his mind before he could capitalise on the opening. Kaius threw himself to the left — away from the danger that almost pincered him from behind.
He spun. Another challenger had a pair of daggers, while another with an arming sword was about to exit an open door across the arena.
Frowning, he kept his distance from the charging mob — rotating to stop himself from getting flanked. There had been no warning, no notification of additional challenges. And two? So soon after his first victories?
An idea took shape in his mind — a suspicion on the nature of his trial. He had to confirm it — even a severe wound would be worth it. If he was right, it would utterly define how he had to approach this trial.
Setting his teeth, Kaius charged.
He raced into a storm of weapons — sliding and adjusting to slip around cutting blades. With so many opponents, it was all he could do to minimise wounds. Light cuts opened on his chest and arms — stinging lightly as the itch of his health sealed them quickly.
The cost was worth it — stepping out of range of a swordsman’s thrust, he cut sideways, and grinned as his blade ripped through the top of their head.
Gods, he loved how sharp his blade was — even limiting his strength, he still cleaved through flesh and bone like it was paper.
Regardless of how much he wanted to press his assault, Kaius pulled back — keeping his eyes on the open doors that surrounded his arena.
His earlier suspicion was confirmed — another challenger was exiting, only moments after he had slain another of the five.
An endless slog, then. No rest, and no chance to recover. As fresh and strong as he was, that advantage wouldn’t last forever. Eventually he would falter, it was inevitable.
Kaius grinned. The realisation should have worried him — should have cowed the confidence he felt. The madness he embodied refused. A fight unending? He would burn through their numbers long before he fell to exhaustion.
The trial had made it clear — they had limits to their numbers. He would be champion, no matter what it took. No matter how much slaughter.
It didn’t matter he was fighting men — they weren’t real. Constructs, nothing more — faceless and impermanent obstacles to his goal.
Kaius raced back in, ready for a slog he knew was coming.
Comments
Dungeonborn
Epic…
James Faulkner
Tftc!! So fun having Father’s Gift feel like a real legendary weapon
Joshua Little
Thanks for the chapter.
