Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Dragon's Maw**

Six months had passed in the Summoner's Void, a realm where time flowed differently. Ethan, now 16 and a half, had grown not just in stature, but in skill and resolve. Under Guts' relentless tutelage, he had faced countless trials, each more challenging than the last. His body bore the scars of battle, each a testament to his survival and learning.

Today marked a pivotal moment in Ethan's journey. The System had announced the final boss of his current level: a formidable black dragon, known in legends as 'Nightscale the Devourer'. Ethan stood in the center of the Void, his sword in hand, Guts at his side.

As the Void morphed into a vast, desolate landscape, with scorched earth and skies shrouded in dark clouds, Ethan's heart pounded in his chest. He remembered Guts' words, "Facing a dragon is not just a test of strength, but of will."

Nightscale emerged from a chasm, its massive form casting a shadow over the land. Its scales shimmered like onyx, and its eyes glowed with a baleful red light. It let out a roar that shook the very air, a sound that resonated with primal fear.

Ethan steadied himself, recalling every lesson, every moment of his training. He remembered the first time he had wielded a sword, the weight of it in his hands, Guts' stern voice guiding him. Each memory sharpened his resolve.

The dragon reared up, its wings unfurling like the gates of hell. Ethan charged, his sword raised. He dodged a swipe of its colossal claw, feeling the rush of wind as it passed. He swung his sword, striking at the dragon's underbelly. The blade barely made a scratch, the scales too tough.

Nightscale retaliated with a burst of flame. Ethan rolled away, the heat singeing his hair. He remembered training with Guts, learning to anticipate and react, each lesson a building block to this moment.

Ethan needed a strategy. He recalled the tales of dragons, their strengths, and weaknesses. He aimed for the joints, the less protected areas. He darted in, slicing at the dragon's hind leg. Nightscale roared, a sound of pain and rage, and whipped its tail. Ethan was thrown back, crashing to the ground, his body screaming in agony.

He pushed through the pain, rising again. He remembered Guts' words, "A swordsman never yields." With a cry, he charged again, more determined. He feinted, then leaped, driving his sword into the dragon's thigh. Nightscale thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but Ethan held on, driving his blade deeper.

The dragon took flight, Ethan clinging to its back. The world spun below him, a dizzying tapestry of earth and sky. He crawled towards the head, every movement a battle against the force of the wind and the dragon's writhing.

Nightscale twisted in the air, trying to throw him off. Ethan held tight, his muscles burning with exertion. He reached its neck, the scales here softer. With all his might, he plunged his sword into the dragon's flesh. Blood, dark as night, spurted out, covering him in warmth.

The dragon roared, a sound that echoed across the Void. It began to descend, spiraling out of control. Ethan realized they were crashing. He pulled his sword free and leaped off, rolling as he hit the ground. Pain racked his body, but he forced himself up, his eyes on the dragon.

Nightscale lay there, weakened, its breaths coming in ragged gasps. Ethan approached, his sword at the ready. He looked into the dragon's eyes, seeing the creature's life fading. He remembered his first kill, the weight of taking a life, no matter how monstrous it might seem.

With a final swing, he drove his sword into the dragon's heart. Nightscale let out a final breath, a sound that seemed almost like relief, and then its body dissolved into shadows, leaving behind only a glowing essence – the reward for his victory.

Ethan collapsed to his knees, exhausted, both physically and emotionally. His sword fell from his hand, clattering to the ground. He looked at his hands, trembling from the adrenaline and the enormity of what he had accomplished. He had defeated Nightscale, a feat that seemed impossible months ago.

Guts approached, his expression a mix of approval and contemplation. "You did well, Ethan. You've grown stronger, not just in skill, but in spirit."

Ethan looked up at his mentor, his eyes filled with a mix of triumph and weariness. "I couldn't have done it without you, Guts."

Guts offered a rare, small smile. "A swordsman's journey is his own, but the lessons he learns along the way shape his path. You've learned much."

As the Void shifted back to its stark whiteness, Ethan stood up, feeling the weight of his journey. He had faced monsters, a dragon, and his own fears. He had learned about strength, courage, and the harsh realities of combat.

The System chimed in, **Congratulations. Level Up. New Abilities Unlocked.** But for Ethan, the rewards were more than just levels and abilities. He had discovered a part of himself in this void, a part that was resilient, determined, and unyielding.

He picked up his sword, feeling its familiar weight. His journey in the Summoner's Void was far from over, but he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. With each battle, he would grow stronger, not just as a swordsman, but as a person.

Ethan turned to Guts, a determined glint in his eyes. "What's next?"

Guts looked out into the endless white expanse. "Next, we train harder. Your journey has only just begun."

As they walked side by side into the whiteness, Ethan felt a sense of purpose. He was no longer the scared boy who had awakened in this strange place six months ago. He was a warrior, a swordsman, and he would face whatever the System threw at him next.

The story of Ethan, the boy who could summon swordsmen from stories, was just beginning. His adventures in the Summoner's Void would take him to places he never imagined, challenge him in ways he never expected, and forge him into a hero of his own making.

And somewhere in that endless void, other stories waited to be told, other battles to be fought. But for now, Ethan had taken his first steps into legend, his sword at his side, and his will unbroken.

The aftermath of the battle with Nightscale left the Void in an eerie silence. Ethan stood amidst the desolation, his breaths coming in heavy gasps. He looked at his hands, still shaking from the intensity of the fight. (That was insane. Did I really just…)

Guts walked over, his eyes examining Ethan closely. "You've done well. But remember, in every victory, there's a lesson."

Ethan nodded, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow. "What's the lesson here, Guts?"

"Never underestimate your opponent, no matter how strong you become. There's always a bigger challenge waiting," Guts replied, his tone serious yet tinged with pride.

Ethan contemplated Guts' words, feeling their weight. He had grown, not just in skill, but in understanding the complexities of battle. (I have to stay vigilant, always.)

As they prepared to leave the battlefield, the Void began to shift again, the landscape melting away into its familiar blank state. Ethan felt a mix of relief and anticipation. He knew this was just the beginning of a much longer and arduous journey.

Guts turned to Ethan, his expression more solemn than usual. "Your next trial won't be easy. It will test you in ways you haven't been tested before."

Ethan squared his shoulders, meeting Guts' gaze with determination. "I'm ready for it. Whatever it is."

Guts nodded, a slight smile forming. "That's the spirit. Remember, the path of a swordsman is endless. Your will and your blade must always be sharp."

As they walked towards the next challenge, Ethan felt a surge of resolve. He had faced a dragon and emerged victorious. Now, he was ready to face whatever the Void had in store for him next, with Guts by his side and his sword in hand.

The story of Ethan, the young swordsman in the Summoner's Void, was unfolding into an epic tale of bravery, growth, and relentless pursuit of strength. His journey was far from over, and the trials ahead would shape him into a legend, a hero born not just from power, but from the unyielding spirit within.

After defeating Nightscale, Ethan and Guts didn't have long to rest. The System, ever demanding, thrust them into the next challenge. The landscape morphed once more, revealing a vast, crumbling cityscape shrouded in darkness. The air was thick with a sense of foreboding, and distant sounds of clashing metal echoed through the night.

"This is no ordinary battlefield," Guts murmured, his eyes scanning the shadows. "Stay sharp, Ethan. Enemies could be lurking anywhere."

They moved cautiously, Ethan's senses on high alert. Every shadow seemed to move, every silence felt like the calm before a storm. He clutched his sword tightly, remembering the dragon's ferocity and the pain of its flames.

Without warning, they were ambushed. Shadowy figures emerged from the ruins, their movements swift and deadly. Ethan barely dodged a blade aimed at his throat, rolling away and coming up with his sword ready.

The enemies were unlike any he had faced before. They were silent, their faces hidden, and their attacks were precise and coordinated. Ethan found himself pushed to his limits, parrying and striking with all the skill Guts had taught him.

Guts fought like a demon unleashed, his greatsword a blur of steel. He yelled, his voice a thunderous roar, as he cut down enemy after enemy. But even he seemed challenged by their sheer number and skill.

Ethan felt a surge of adrenaline. He channeled his fear and uncertainty into his swordplay, each strike more forceful, each movement more fluid. He could feel his body responding, the lessons of the past months culminating in this moment of life and death.

An enemy lunged, swords clashing with a shower of sparks. Ethan twisted, using the momentum to disarm his foe. He then kicked the enemy back, sending him crashing into a crumbling wall. The fight was relentless, a dance of death in the moonlit ruins.

Suddenly, a massive figure emerged from the shadows. It was a giant, clad in black armor, wielding a sword as tall as Ethan himself. Its steps caused the ground to tremble, and its presence seemed to suck the light from the air.

Guts faced the giant, his expression grim. "Ethan, take care of the others. This one is mine."

Ethan nodded, turning to engage more of the shadowy assailants. He could hear the clash of Guts' sword against the giant's, a symphony of steel and fury.

Fighting his way through the enemies, Ethan glimpsed the duel between Guts and the giant. It was a battle of titans, each blow shaking the very air. Guts moved with a ferocity Ethan had never seen, his sword a streak of silver in the darkness.

The giant was relentless, but Guts was like a force of nature. With a final, mighty swing, Guts' sword connected with the giant's helm, splitting it in two. The giant fell, its armor clattering against the stone floor, and then it too dissolved into shadows.

Breathless, Ethan looked around. The shadowy figures were retreating, melting away into the darkness from which they had come.

Guts walked over to Ethan, his breathing heavy. "You did well, kid. These were not ordinary foes. This was a test of your ability to adapt and survive."

Ethan sheathed his sword, his body aching but his spirit unbroken. "What were they, Guts?"

Guts looked at the fading shadows. "Assassins from the Void. Shadows brought to life by the System to test us. And you passed, Ethan."

As the landscape of the Void shifted once again, returning to its stark, white expanse, Ethan felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. He had faced shadows and steel and had emerged victorious. His journey in the Summoner's Void was far from over, but he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

With Guts at his side, Ethan walked into the whiteness, his heart pounding with the thrill of battle and the anticipation of the next challenge. The path of a swordsman was fraught with peril, but for Ethan, it was a path he had chosen, a path that would lead him to his destiny.

The trials in the Summoner's Void became increasingly arduous, each new challenge testing Ethan's limits. The next scenario the System conjured was a desolate battlefield, under a sky streaked with lightning. The ground was littered with the remnants of a great war, and the air was filled with the stench of decay.

Ethan and Guts stood side by side, facing an army of spectral warriors. These ghostly soldiers, remnants of forgotten battles, charged with a haunting battle cry. Ethan felt a chill run down his spine, but he steeled himself, his grip tightening on his sword.

The spectral warriors were unlike any foe he had faced before. They were intangible at times, their ethereal forms resistant to physical attacks. Ethan quickly learned to anticipate their materializing forms, striking at the precise moments they became vulnerable.

Guts fought with a ferocity that matched the fury of the storm above. His sword cleaved through the spectral warriors, each swing banishing them back to the void from whence they came. He shouted encouragement to Ethan, his voice cutting through the din of battle.

Ethan found himself adapting to this strange new enemy. He moved with purpose, his strikes calculated and precise. The lessons from his previous battles coalesced within him, lending strength and confidence to his sword arm.

As they fought, the spectral army seemed endless. But Ethan noticed a pattern. The warriors were emanating from a central point in the distance—a dark, swirling vortex. He pointed it out to Guts, shouting over the noise of the battle.

Guts nodded, understanding the implication. "We take out the source, and the army falls!"

They fought their way through the horde, moving towards the vortex. Each step was hard-fought, the spectral warriors relentless in their assault. But Ethan's resolve only hardened with each swing of his sword.

As they neared the vortex, a colossal specter emerged. It towered over them, a ghostly giant wielding a massive ethereal blade. Its presence was overwhelming, its power palpable even in the chaotic battlefield.

Guts faced the giant, his voice resolute. "I'll handle this monstrosity. Ethan, destroy the vortex!"

Ethan nodded, darting past the giant, focusing on the swirling mass of dark energy. He could feel the pull of the vortex, a cold, sucking sensation that threatened to drain his very essence.

He reached the vortex, his sword at the ready. He remembered a lesson from Guts: "In the heart of darkness, find the light within." Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the inner strength he had honed in his time in the Void.

Opening his eyes, Ethan lunged forward, his sword glowing with a radiant light. He struck at the heart of the vortex, his blade cutting through the dark energy. The vortex shuddered, its form destabilizing, and then with a final, piercing scream, it imploded, vanishing into nothingness.

With the destruction of the vortex, the spectral army faltered. One by one, the warriors vanished, their forms dissipating like mist.

Ethan turned to see Guts delivering the final blow to the spectral giant, banishing it back to the void. They stood amidst the now silent battlefield, the storm above clearing, revealing a starlit sky.

Guts clapped Ethan on the shoulder, a grin on his face. "You've come a long way, kid. That was some quick thinking."

Ethan, panting and covered in spectral residue, managed a tired smile. "Thanks, Guts. I couldn't have done it without your training."

As they walked back into the white expanse of the Void, Ethan felt a deep sense of accomplishment and growth. He had faced ghosts, giants, and the darkness itself. With each victory, he was becoming more than just a swordsman; he was becoming a hero.

The challenges of the Summoner's Void were far from over, but Ethan was ready. Ready to face whatever trials the System had in store, ready to grow stronger, and ready to forge his destiny.

His journey as the summoner of swordsmen, the boy who could bring legends to life, was just beginning. And in the heart of the Void, Ethan knew that his story was one of many, a tale of courage, perseverance, and the unyielding spirit of a warrior.