Chapter 12: The First True Trial

The forest was unnervingly quiet. Normally, birds would sing in the trees, and small animals would scurry through the underbrush. But now, all Leonidas could hear was the sound of his own breathing, slow and measured as he moved silently between the trees, his sword resting lightly on his shoulder.

Kratos had told him to push himself further today—to hunt alone, as part of growing stronger. Normally, that would have meant wolves or Draugr. But as he stepped into the clearing, Leonidas realized this was something different.

A massive troll, twice the height of a man, loomed before him. Its body was covered in sickly, dark runes that pulsed like infected wounds, black mist seeping from its flesh. Its eyes glowed a dull red, filled with blind rage and something... unnatural.

Leonidas' grip tightened on his sword.

What in Hel is this...? he thought.

From behind a tree, he watched as the troll crushed a deer carcass underfoot, snarling to itself. The ground seemed to rot where it stepped.

Leonidas took a slow breath.

No running. You wanted to get stronger. Now's your chance.

He stepped out into the clearing.

The troll's head snapped toward him, nostrils flaring, and with a roar that shook the ground, it charged.

Leonidas leaped aside, rolling to his feet as the troll's massive club smashed into the earth, sending dirt and stone flying.

"Alright," Leonidas whispered to himself, steadying his stance. "Let's do this."

He rushed forward, sword flashing as he slashed across the troll's leg, drawing a deep line of darkened blood.

The troll bellowed in pain, swinging its club wildly. Leonidas ducked under the first swing, but the second caught him off-guard, grazing his shoulder and sending him tumbling across the ground.

He gritted his teeth, pushing himself back up. The wound stung, but it was shallow.

"You're tougher than you look," he muttered, spitting blood from his lip.

As the troll charged again, Leonidas channeled power into his legs, feeling that now-familiar warmth of magic flowing through his muscles. His body responded faster, moving with an almost unnatural grace as he dodged left, then right, slashing across the troll's arm.

Still, this wasn't enough. The troll wasn't just strong—it was enhanced.

If I don't step it up, I'll die here.

As the troll reared back for another swing, Leonidas took a deep breath, lowering his sword.

Control... focus... like Father said.

He felt the magic swirl inside him—but this time, he reached deeper. Not just the surface magic for enhancement, but the power Solomon had wielded, waiting, untested.

Golden symbols flared briefly in his mind's eye. The script of a king.

"Strengthen," he whispered, and the sword burst into golden-blue flame, the edges glowing hot with compressed magical force.

The troll lunged.

Leonidas met its charge head-on, his sword clashing with the troll's club. The force rattled his bones, but his enhanced blade cut deep into the wood, splitting it nearly in half.

The troll howled and swung a fist the size of Leonidas' chest. Leonidas ducked low, rolling beneath the punch, and with a fluid motion, he sliced across the beast's ankle, cutting through skin and tendon.

The troll stumbled, roaring in pain, and Leonidas pressed the advantage.

He jumped onto its knee, racing up its leg, sword raised high.

"Fall!"

He brought the glowing blade straight down on its shoulder, cutting deep enough that dark, corrupted blood poured out in streams.

The troll staggered, collapsing to one knee—but as it roared in fury, the dark magic surged, black tendrils of energy wrapping around its limbs, forcing it back upright.

Leonidas' eyes widened.

It's regenerating?

He leapt back, landing lightly, sword still crackling with magic.

"This thing won't stay down," he muttered.

He realized it wasn't enough to cut the body—he had to break the magic holding it together.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he reached deeper into the well of power inside him. Solomon's magic was more than just raw force—it was command, authority over the unnatural.

Focusing his will, he lowered his sword, pointing it toward the troll.

"Begone," he said, voice calm but filled with quiet power. "Your dark master holds no sway here."

The symbols of Solomon flared to life in the air, golden runes circling around the sword's tip.

The troll froze, trembling, as though something ancient and powerful gripped its very soul.

Leonidas stepped forward, holding his sword steady.

"You are nothing before a king."

With a final step, he slashed in a wide arc, the glowing sword releasing a wave of force that crashed into the troll like a storm.

The black magic shattered, dissolving into wisps of smoke, and the troll collapsed to the ground, its body finally still.

Leonidas stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily, sweat running down his face.

Slowly, he sheathed his sword, the glow fading.

He glanced down at his hands, still trembling slightly from the effort.

That was close... but I did it.

As the wind stirred the trees again, returning life to the forest, a small message echoed in his mind—faint but clear.

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Physical Strength: Solidly advanced; agile and powerful, able to match large foes.

Swordsmanship: Mastery in fluid combat; blending magic and swordplay.

Magic: Weapon enhancement stable, first successful exorcism-class magic used.

Goetia Connection: Stirring — potential to summon/control lesser spirits is now present.

Leonidas took one last look at the fallen troll before turning back toward home.

Father will have something to say about this, for sure, he thought with a small, tired smile.

But for now, he was satisfied. He had taken another step forward, blending both halves of himself—the warrior and the mage.

And he was only getting started.