Extra's Sign In System: The Hero's an Idiot!

Chapter 102: The Titan’s Echo

Bram stepped through the stone archway. He left the Hall of History behind him.

The space opened up into something impossibly vast. It was not a burial room. It was a colossal underground arena. The ceiling stretched hundreds of feet into the air. Giant tiered seating carved from solid granite surrounded a massive fighting pit filled with coarse red sand.

Broken weapons the size of Vanguard rovers littered the arena floor. Rusted swords and shattered hammers lay half-buried in the dirt. This was a proving ground built for giant gladiators.

The air in the center of the arena suddenly rippled.

A brilliant sphere of golden light began to coalesce. The light twisted and expanded. It took the towering shape of a twenty-foot-tall figure. The spirit wore ancient dented armor. A ragged cape made of pure glowing energy drifted behind his broad shoulders.

The Titan looked down at Bram. His eyes were pools of sad ancient light.

"You possess courage," the deep voice rumbled. The sound shook the loose sand on the arena floor.

"Your honor is untarnished by the dark. You have earned the right to stand before me, little human."

Bram planted his heavy boots in the sand. He looked up at the towering ghost.

"Are you the Warlord?"

"I am Kaelor," the spirit answered.

"The Last Spear of the Iron Peaks. I was the strongest warrior of my kind. When the dimensional gates closed and we were stranded on this dying world, my brothers looked to me for salvation."

The glowing giant lowered his head. A profound heavy sorrow filled the arena.

"But I failed them," Kaelor confessed.

"I had the power to shatter mountains. I had the magic to boil the seas. But strength is completely useless without the endurance to carry the burden. When the endless Beast Waves came, my legs gave out. I collapsed under the weight of the war. Because I fell, my people turned to stone."

Kaelor raised his massive glowing hand. He pointed a finger directly at Bram.

"The Miasma will test your magic," Kaelor warned.

"But the apocalypse will test your spine. If you wish to claim my bloodline, you must prove you can carry the weight that broke me."

Kaelor snapped his colossal fingers.

The arena violently shifted. The ground beneath the red sand groaned and cracked.

A massive jagged cliff face erupted from the center of the fighting pit. It shot straight up into the dark ceiling. It was completely vertical and devoid of any safe handholds.

A heavy thud echoed at Bram’s feet.

A massive iron sack materialized in the sand. Thick rusted chains were attached to the top of the bag. It was filled to the brim with dense giant iron ores.

"Strap the burden to your back," Kaelor commanded. The giant began to fade back into golden particles.

"Climb the Iron Peak without your magic. Reach the summit. If you fall, you will die here."

Bram did not hesitate. He walked forward and picked up the thick chains. The moment he lifted the iron bag his knees buckled. It was impossibly heavy. It felt like trying to carry a Vanguard rover on his shoulders.

He gritted his teeth. He strapped the heavy Vanguard tower shield to his left arm. He wrapped the rusted chains tightly around his chest.

Bram walked to the base of the towering cliff. He reached up and dug his thick fingers into a small crack in the stone. He pulled his massive frame off the ground.

The Trial of Endurance had begun.

The first hour was pure physical agony. Every muscle in Bram’s body screamed in protest. The iron bag pulled backward against his spine. His fingers scraped against the sharp rocks. Blood began to drip down his forearms.

He climbed higher. The ground vanished into the shadows below.

Suddenly the cliff face shuddered. Massive boulders broke loose from the ceiling above. They tumbled down the vertical wall directly toward him.

Bram pressed his body flat against the stone. He swung his left arm up. The falling rocks smashed violently against his heavy tower shield. The impacts sent brutal shockwaves down his arm. His bones rattled.

He waited for the barrage to pass. Then he reached up and climbed another foot.

A shrill terrifying screech echoed through the massive cavern.

Bram looked over his shoulder. Dozens of flying Miasma gargoyles emerged from the dark crevices of the arena ceiling. They had wings made of jagged stone and glowing red eyes. They dove straight toward the giant boy clinging to the wall.

"Get away!" Bram roared.

He held onto the cliff with his bleeding right hand. He swung his heavy shield outward with his left. He bashed a diving gargoyle out of the air. The monster shrieked and plummeted into the abyss.

Three more swooped in. Sharp stone claws raked across Bram’s back. They tore through his uniform. Blood spilled down the cliff face.

Bram ignored the pain. His mind had already been tempered in the Cultist illusion. Scratches on his back were nothing compared to what he had already endured.

He bashed another monster away. He reached up. He pulled himself higher.

Hour after agonizing hour passed. His vision began to blur. His lungs burned for oxygen. The iron bag felt like a dying star chained to his back. The gargoyles continued to dive and slash at his legs.

Finally he saw the top of the cliff just thirty feet away. A brilliant golden pedestal rested on the summit. The Titan’s Marrow was waiting for him.

"Almost there," Bram gasped. His voice was a ragged whisper.

A massive shadow suddenly blotted out the glowing pedestal.

The largest gargoyle he had ever seen landed on the edge of the cliff above him. It was the size of a Hover-Van. It looked down at the exhausted boy. It raised a massive stone claw.

The monster struck downward with terrifying speed.

Bram could not dodge. He swung his heavy Vanguard shield up to block the lethal blow.

CRACK.

The impact sounded like a bomb going off. Bram’s arm went completely numb. He looked up in sheer horror.

A massive jagged crack ran directly down the center of his Vanguard shield. The unbreakable metal groaned under the pressure. A second later, the shield completely shattered into a dozen pieces. The fragments rained down into the dark abyss.

Bram lost his grip. His left hand slipped.

He was left hanging hundreds of feet in the air by the bleeding fingertips of his right hand. The crushing iron bag dragged him downward. The massive gargoyle raised its claws for the killing blow.