Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Trial of Blades - Redux**

In the Summoner's Void, the atmosphere thickened with tension as Ethan braced for his first real test. The System's challenge shimmered before him: **Combat Trial. Level 1.** He gripped his sword, trying to steady his racing heart. Guts stood apart, a silent sentinel, his presence a reminder of the harsh lessons Ethan had endured.

The void swirled, coalescing into a dense forest, shadowed and foreboding. The air was thick, heavy with a sense of dread. Ethan's eyes darted around, scanning the dark underbrush. Then, they came - monstrous apparitions, half-wolf, half-demon, with slavering jaws and eyes glowing with a sinister light. Their fur was matted with what looked like blood and dirt, and their muscles rippled beneath it, each movement a display of predatory power.

Ethan readied himself as the first creature lunged, its jaws wide. He sidestepped, barely avoiding the snapping teeth, and swung his sword in a wide arc. The blade connected with a sickening thud, cleaving through the beast's shoulder. Black blood spurted out, splattering across Ethan's face, its warmth startling him.

Another beast attacked from the side, its claws aiming for his head. Ethan ducked, feeling the wind from its swipe, and countered with a swift thrust. His blade pierced its chest, and the creature howled, a sound of pain and rage, before collapsing.

But there was no time to rest. The beasts attacked in a frenzy, their movements coordinated and relentless. Ethan parried and struck, his sword a blur of steel. One creature's claws raked across his arm, leaving deep, burning gashes. Pain shot through him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the fight.

The boss monster then emerged, towering over the others. It stood on two legs, more humanoid than its brethren, with a twisted, horned head and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Its eyes fixed on Ethan, full of malevolent intelligence.

Ethan faced the creature, trying to control his breathing. The boss charged, its speed astonishing. Ethan rolled away from its first swipe, then narrowly dodged a follow-up blow that shattered a tree trunk. He realized this was a different kind of adversary - smarter, stronger, deadlier.

The beast caught him with a backhand swipe, sending him flying. Ethan hit the ground hard, his vision blurring. He saw the monster advancing, its steps shaking the earth. With a Herculean effort, he rose, his whole body screaming in protest.

Ethan charged, his survival instincts in overdrive. He feinted left, then dived right, sliding under the beast's guard. He swung his sword with all his might, aiming for the creature's knee. The blade bit deep, and the monster roared, its leg buckling.

Seizing the moment, Ethan leaped up, driving his sword towards the creature's chest. But the beast was quick; it grabbed him, its grip like iron. Ethan felt the air being squeezed out of him as he stared into the monster's hate-filled eyes.

In a desperate move, he pushed his sword up, driving it through the beast's jaw and into its skull. The grip on him loosened as the creature's life ebbed away. With a final effort, Ethan pulled his sword free, and the monster collapsed, dissolving into shadow.

Ethan stood there, panting, his body a tapestry of pain. His sword dropped to the ground with a dull thud. He looked at his blood-stained hands, the reality of what he had done - what he had become - sinking in.

Guts approached, his expression unreadable. "You survived. That's what matters."

Ethan's voice was a hoarse whisper, "I killed it, Guts... It felt so real."

"It is real, here and now. That's the weight of a swordsman's life," Guts replied, his voice a low rumble.

"But how do you cope with taking a life?" Ethan asked, the nausea rising.

"By living. By fighting for what you believe in. It's never easy, but it's our burden to bear," Guts said, his gaze distant, haunted by his own memories.

Ethan nodded, understanding that this was a turning point. He had crossed a line from which there was no return. He picked up his sword, its weight familiar and yet somehow different now.

As the void returned to its stark whiteness, Ethan stood, a newfound resolve steeling his heart. This was his path now, one of struggle, of battle, of understanding the profound cost of wielding a sword. Under Guts' watchful eye, he prepared for the journey ahead, one fraught with danger and moral quandaries, but one he was determined to see through.

In the quiet aftermath, the starkness of the Summoner's Void seemed to echo Ethan's turbulent emotions. Guts observed him, his face an unreadable mask, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of understanding.

Guts' Perspective: 'He's learning the hard truth. The path of the sword is soaked in blood and shadowed by death. He needs to grasp this reality.'

Ethan sheathed his sword, his hands still trembling slightly. "What's next?" he asked, his voice more steady than he felt.

Guts crossed his arms. "You rest, you heal. Then, you train harder. Each trial will be tougher. You must be ready."

Ethan's Thoughts: 'Rest. But how can I? Every time I close my eyes, I see those creatures, feel the weight of my blade cutting through them. This is what it means to be a Blade Summoner.'

As Ethan retreated to his quarters, his mind replayed the battle. The fear, the adrenaline, the grim satisfaction of survival. It was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

Guts' Thoughts: Watching Ethan leave, Guts felt a twinge of concern. 'He has strength, courage, but does he have the resilience to endure this path? Only time will tell.'

That night, Ethan lay awake, his body aching, his mind racing. The reality of his new existence weighed heavily on him. The choices he'd made, the path he'd chosen, it was all so much more real and brutal than he'd ever imagined.

Ethan's Perspective: 'This is more than just training, more than just surviving. It's about understanding the cost of this power, the responsibility that comes with it. Can I bear this burden?'

The next day, Ethan returned to training, his wounds bandaged, his resolve hardened. The trials had changed him, deepened his understanding of what it meant to be a warrior.

Guts pushed him harder, their sparring sessions becoming more intense. With each strike, each parry, Ethan felt himself growing, not just in skill, but in spirit.

Guts' Perspective: 'He's improving. Faster, sharper. But it's not just his skill that's growing; it's his spirit. He's beginning to understand.'

Weeks passed, each day a cycle of rigorous training and contemplative rest. Ethan's skills grew exponentially, but so did his understanding of the gravity of his journey. The trials were not just about combat; they were about confronting the essence of his own humanity.

Ethan's Thoughts: 'Each swing of my sword, each trial I face, it's not just about fighting monsters. It's about fighting my own fears, my own doubts.'

As Ethan prepared for his next trial, he stood in the Summoner's Void, a different person than he had been just weeks before. He was stronger, more confident, but also more aware of the darkness that lay on the path ahead.

Guts watched him, a rare flicker of approval in his eyes. "You're ready for the next level. Remember, each battle is a lesson. Learn from it."

Ethan nodded, gripping his sword. "I'm ready."

In the ever-shifting landscape of the Summoner's Void, Ethan faced each challenge with a growing sense of purpose. He was no longer just a Blade Summoner; he was a warrior, tempered by conflict, driven by a newfound understanding of the weight of his choices and the power he wielded.

Under Guts' watchful eye, Ethan continued his journey, each trial sculpting him into a warrior of both skill and substance, prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead in the mysterious and unforgiving world of the Summoner's Void.

Ethan stood at the edge of a new challenge, his sword in hand, his body tensed for battle. The Void transformed once again, this time into a landscape of jagged cliffs and howling winds. He scanned the horizon, anticipation and dread mixing in his gut.

(This is it, another test. But am I truly prepared?) Ethan thought, gripping his sword tighter.

Guts, standing a few paces away, watched him with a scrutinizing gaze. (He's come far, but doubt lingers in him. It's natural, but he must overcome it.)

The air in the Void crackled, and from the rocky terrain emerged creatures of stone and earth, their forms massive and menacing. Ethan exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves. (Okay, focus. Remember the training, remember Guts' lessons.)

As the first stone giant lumbered towards him, Ethan dashed forward. (Speed, agility, that's my advantage.) His blade struck true, chipping away at the rocky hide of the giant.

(He's quick, adapting to each challenge.) Guts observed, noting Ethan's improved tactics.

The battle intensified, with more giants encircling Ethan. He weaved and dodged, his blade a constant flurry. (Can't let them corner me. Keep moving, keep striking.)

A giant's fist grazed Ethan's shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through him. (That was too close. Can't afford mistakes.) Ethan gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain.

Guts tensed, ready to intervene if necessary. (He's hurt, but he's not backing down. That's the spirit.)

Ethan, realizing he needed to end the fight quickly, spotted a weak point in one of the giants. With a determined cry, he leaped, driving his sword into the creature's joint. (This is it!) The giant crumbled, and Ethan rolled away just in time to avoid the falling debris.

Breathing heavily, Ethan faced the remaining giants, his resolve hardening. (I can do this. I have to.) His sword danced with deadly precision, each strike weakening his foes.

Guts watched, a rare smile flickering on his lips. (He's learning, growing. This is what it means to be a warrior.)

With the last of the giants defeated, Ethan stood amidst the rubble, panting, his body aching but alive with triumph. (I did it. I'm getting stronger.)

Guts approached, clapping Ethan on the shoulder. "Well done. But don't get complacent. The trials will only get harder."

Ethan nodded, a mix of fatigue and satisfaction in his eyes. (Harder challenges… But I'm ready. I'll face them head-on.)

As the Void shifted back to its tranquil whiteness, Ethan and Guts prepared for the next phase of training. With each challenge, Ethan grew not just in skill, but in understanding and resolve. He was no longer just a fighter; he was a warrior shaped by the trials of the blade, ready to face whatever the Summoner's Void had in store for him.

As the landscape of the Void morphed once again, this time into a realm of fire and brimstone, Ethan braced himself. The heat was intense, the air thick with the smell of sulfur. (This is like stepping into a furnace.) He squinted, scanning the fiery horizon.

Guts, unmoved by the heat, turned to Ethan. "Remember, adapt to your environment. Use it to your advantage."

Ethan nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. (Easier said than done.)

From the flames emerged demonic creatures, their skin as red as the fire that birthed them. Ethan's grip on his sword tightened. "Here they come," he muttered, steeling himself.

As the first demon charged, Ethan charged too, yelling, "For victory!" He plunged his sword into the demon's heart, withdrawing it quickly as the creature disintegrated into ash.

Guts watched, a stern expression on his face. "Good! Keep moving, don't let them surround you!"

Ethan darted between the demons, his blade a constant flash of silver. He shouted with each strike, his voice a mix of exertion and determination.

A demon lunged at Ethan from behind. Guts shouted a warning, "Ethan, behind you!"

Spinning around, Ethan barely dodged the attack. (That was close.) He countered, slicing the demon's head off in a clean stroke. "Thanks, Guts!"

The air grew hotter, the ground beneath them cracking and glowing. A massive demon, twice the size of the others, emerged, roaring fiercely.

Ethan eyed the beast, a flicker of fear in his heart. (This one's different. Bigger, stronger.) He yelled to Guts, "Any tips on this one?"

"Hit it hard and fast! Aim for the joints!" Guts yelled back, his voice cutting through the roar of flames.

Ethan charged at the giant demon, yelling at the top of his lungs. He dodged a swipe of its massive claw and thrust his sword into its knee. The demon bellowed in pain, staggering backward.

Guts nodded approvingly. "Now finish it!"

With a cry of determination, Ethan leaped onto the demon's back, climbing towards its head. The demon thrashed, trying to throw him off. Ethan held on, yelling with effort as he reached its head and drove his sword deep into its skull.

The demon collapsed, its body dissolving into the fiery ground. Ethan landed on his feet, panting heavily, his face lit by the fading flames.

Guts approached, clapping him on the back. "Well done. You're learning to think on your feet. That's essential."

Ethan smiled weakly, feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. "Thanks, Guts. Couldn't have done it without your training."

As the fiery landscape faded away, the two warriors stood in the now peaceful Void. Ethan's journey as a warrior was evolving, each trial not only a test of his physical abilities but also a forging of his will and spirit. Under Guts' mentorship, he was becoming more than just a fighter; he was becoming a symbol of resilience and courage.

The Void shifted again, this time revealing a landscape of towering cliffs and precarious ledges. Ethan surveyed the terrain, his heart pounding. (This… is going to be tough.) The height was dizzying, the drops lethal.

Guts's voice cut through his apprehension, "Focus, Ethan! In battle, fear is your worst enemy."

Ethan nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Got it!"

Suddenly, winged demons swooped down from the sky, their screeches piercing the air. Ethan readied his sword, his eyes tracking their every move. As the first demon dove towards him, Ethan leaped aside, yelling, "Not today!" He swung his sword in a wide arc, severing the demon's wing and sending it plummeting.

The fight was relentless. Ethan darted and rolled along the cliff's edge, his blade a constant whirlwind of steel. He yelled with each strike, the sound echoing against the stone walls.

A larger demon, its wings spanning wider than the others, descended upon him. Ethan glanced at the cliff edge, an idea forming. (If I can just get it close enough…)

He stood at the brink, beckoning the demon. "Come on, you ugly beast!"

The demon charged, its jaws open wide. At the last moment, Ethan sidestepped and shoved it with all his might, yelling, "Fall!" The demon lost its balance, its massive body tumbling down the cliff.

But the victory was short-lived. Another demon grabbed Ethan from behind, its claws digging into his armor. Ethan struggled, yelling in pain and frustration. He elbowed the demon in the face, breaking its hold, then spun around and thrust his sword through its heart.

Guts, observing from a distance, shouted, "Use the terrain to your advantage!"

Ethan, breathing heavily, nodded in understanding. He lured another demon towards a narrow ledge. As it lunged at him, he ducked and pushed, using the demon's momentum against it. The creature yowled as it fell into the abyss.

The battle raged on, each moment a test of Ethan's skill and endurance. He fought with a ferocity he never knew he had, his blade cutting through demon after demon.

Finally, as the last demon fell, Ethan stood alone on the cliff, his chest heaving, his sword dripping with dark blood. He looked out over the edge, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Guts approached, a rare smile on his face. "That was impressive. You're becoming more than just a fighter; you're a warrior."

Ethan sheathed his sword, his hand trembling slightly from the intensity of the battle. "Thanks, Guts. I couldn't have done it without your guidance."

The Void faded back to its tranquil white state. Ethan felt a profound sense of achievement mixed with exhaustion. These trials were reshaping him, not just in skill, but in spirit. He was no longer the same person who had entered the Void; he was something more, something stronger. Under the harsh yet wise tutelage of Guts, Ethan was slowly but surely becoming a force to be reckoned with.