Chapter 53 What it Means to be Earth-Blooded part 2

### Chapter 52: The Hidden Grove, Part 2

The molten air shimmered around the hollow as Bren faced the second trial, her sword gripped tightly in her hands. The heat of the molten pool radiated against her skin, but she stood firm, her eyes locked on the glowing figure before her. The trial's second opponent—a molten warrior with a shield of rock and a body of flame—towered over her, radiating both heat and menace.

From the edge of the hollow, Trill, Lyra, Ares, and Vas watched intently. Trill's jaw was clenched, his worry palpable as Bren readied herself for the fight.

"She's strong," Ares murmured, his arms crossed as his sharp eyes tracked Bren's movements. "But this is no ordinary trial."

"What do you mean?" Trill asked, his gaze flickering toward the Ashura warrior.

Ares tilted his head slightly, his ram-like horns catching the faint glow of the fire-water pool. "The Earth-blooded are rare, but not unheard of," he said. "Among my people, we've encountered them before—nomads touched by the elements, much like Bren. Their abilities vary, shaped by the lands that claim them. A merfolk might wield water like a blade; a naga might master venom as easily as breathing."

Trill's brow furrowed as Ares spoke. "So their powers come from the land itself?"

Ares nodded. "Yes. They are the Earth's champions, chosen for reasons known only to it. They can be protectors, warriors, healers... or something else entirely. But their power always comes with a price."

At those words, Trill's thoughts turned inward. He thought of his own abilities—the way he could command plants and fungi, summon creatures of the forest, and wield nature as a weapon. He had always felt a connection to the natural world, but the forest's toll had left him questioning the origins of his gifts. Was he, too, Earth-blooded? And if so, what was the price he had yet to pay?

---

A sudden clash of steel snapped Trill's attention back to the hollow. Bren had charged the molten warrior, her blade meeting its fiery shield with a resounding impact. The creature pushed back, its strength immense, but Bren held her ground. Her eyes burned with determination as she twisted her blade and slid to the side, narrowly dodging a sweeping strike from the molten shield.

"She's good," Lyra said, her voice quiet but impressed. "That thing's twice her size, but she's holding her own."

"She's better than good," Ares replied. "But this is more than a battle of skill. The Grove is testing her resolve, her spirit. If she falters there, no amount of strength will save her."

Trill said nothing, his hands tightening into fists. He hated standing on the sidelines, watching as Bren faced such a dangerous trial alone. But he knew this wasn't a fight he could interfere in.

---

Bren spun around her opponent, her movements quick and precise. She struck at its legs, her blade cutting deep into the molten rock. The creature roared, its fiery form flaring as it retaliated with a sweep of its shield. Bren ducked just in time, the heat of the shield scorching the air above her.

Gritting her teeth, she drove forward, her blade finding another opening. Each strike chipped away at the creature's form, but its strength seemed endless, its fiery essence regenerating almost as quickly as she could damage it.

"Come on, Bren," Trill muttered under his breath, his eyes never leaving her.

---

As the battle raged, Ares continued to speak, his tone calm but reflective. "The Earth-blooded are chosen for their connection to the land, but that connection isn't always kind. Some lose themselves to it, becoming little more than vessels for the Earth's will."

"Sounds like a raw deal," Lyra muttered, her expression darkening.

"It can be," Ares admitted. "But it can also be a gift. Those who learn to balance their will with the Earth's can achieve incredible things. They become something more."

Trill's gaze flickered toward Ares. "And what about me?" he asked quietly.

Ares raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"

Trill hesitated, then gestured vaguely at the hollow. "I've always had this connection to plants, fungi... nature. And then the forest marked me, took something from me. If Bren is Earth-blooded, does that make me the same?"

Ares studied him for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps," he said finally. "Or perhaps your connection is something else entirely. The Earth's gifts are as varied as the lands themselves. You may share a bond, but your path is your own."

Trill frowned, his thoughts swirling. He didn't know if Ares's words brought him comfort or more questions.

---

In the hollow, Bren finally found an opening. She dodged another sweeping strike from the molten shield and lunged forward, driving her blade deep into the creature's core. The molten warrior froze, its fiery form flickering as cracks spread across its body. With a final roar, it shattered, its essence dissolving into the air.

Bren staggered back, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her sword glowed faintly from the heat, but her grip remained firm.

"She did it," Lyra said, a hint of relief in her voice.

Ares nodded. "The second trial is complete. But the third will be the true test."

Trill stepped forward, his concern evident. "Bren, are you—"

Before he could finish, the ground beneath them rumbled violently. The air filled with the sound of cracking stone and shifting earth as the hollow quaked.

"What now?" Lyra exclaimed, gripping her daggers.

The sparrows reappeared, their fiery forms fluttering in distress. "The Grove is restless," they said, their voices sharp and urgent. "Something stirs beneath the Earth."

As the quake intensified, the molten pool began to churn violently, its surface glowing brighter and brighter.

Bren turned to the sparrows, her voice steady despite the chaos. "What's happening?"

"The Earth's heart is awakening," they replied. "Prepare yourselves, Earth-blood warrior. The true trial has begun."

The ground beneath the group gave a final, shuddering heave before the quaking ceased. Silence fell over the hollow, heavy and foreboding.

And then, from the depths of the molten pool, something massive began to rise.