The tremor beneath Eren's feet grew louder. The earth didn't shake like in an earthquake it pulsed, like something massive stirring below the forest floor, breathing, waiting.
Eren gripped the hilt of the black blade tighter. Akreth was warm in his hand now, as if alive, feeding on the tension in the air. The runes on its surface shimmered like coals beneath ash.
From the other side of the clearing, Elira rose slowly. Her expression was calm, but her posture spoke of warning. She stepped beside Eren and looked toward the dark treeline.
"They're coming," she said softly.
Eren swallowed hard. "The Woken Beasts."
"They are the first to test those who awaken the sword. Ancient guardians corrupted by time and magic. They feel Akreth now, stirring again after decades of silence. And they'll come for it. Not because they want it because they fear it."
"How many?" he asked.
"I don't know. Enough."
A low howl answered her. Long. Broken. It wasn't the voice of a creature it was the voice of pain made flesh.
Eren stepped forward instinctively. The trees at the edge of the clearing bent outward. Something large pushed through them, its shape hidden in the shadow, its breath visible in the cold night air. Then another sound chitin scraping stone. Then slithering. Then the crunch of bone under claw.
Shapes began to form from the darkness.
The first emerged, crawling forward like a hound with too many limbs. Its skin was raw, pulsing with black veins. Where eyes should have been, there were only pits. The second slithered behind it, taller than a man, floating inches above the ground. It shifted with every movement, like it was made of mist and bone. Others followed.
Seven in total.
Eren's breath caught. They surrounded the clearing, each one stopping at the edge of the grass, watching.
Elira didn't move.
He turned to her. "What are they waiting for?"
"For you," she said. "The sword has chosen. The beasts must judge."
The largest of the seven stepped forward. It stood upright, covered in matted fur and jagged armor that grew from its body like bark. It tilted its head, then opened its mouth, revealing teeth like shards of obsidian.
Eren raised Akreth instinctively.
Nothing happened.
The beast didn't charge. Instead, it slammed its claws into the ground.
A ring of fire erupted from where it struck, circling the clearing like a cage.
Eren stepped back. The heat licked at his face. He turned toward Elira, alarmed.
"What is this?"
"The trial," she answered. "You can't run now."
"I wasn't going to."
She looked at him then, for the first time, with something like respect.
The beasts began to move.
Two darted forward without warning. Eren braced, heart pounding. One leapt high, the other low. Instinct took over. He dropped, rolled, and slashed upward. Akreth met flesh. The blade sank deep. Black ichor burst from the wound, sizzling where it landed.
The beast shrieked.
The other struck from behind. Eren turned just in time, raising the blade to block. The impact sent a jolt up his arm. He staggered, but stayed on his feet.
The beasts circled again.
A third launched a barrage of bone-like projectiles from its ribcage. Eren sprinted left, weaving through the trees at the edge of the clearing. A sharp bone sliced his arm, tearing through cloth and drawing blood.
Pain flared but he didn't stop.
He pivoted, raised Akreth, and let it fall on the nearest beast. The sword cut deep, and something inside it responded. The runes flared. The blade vibrated in his hands.
The beast collapsed.
One down.
The others didn't hesitate. They attacked in pairs now, fast and relentless. Eren fought like a man possessed. His limbs ached, muscles burning with each swing. He didn't feel skilled only desperate. But Akreth moved with him, or perhaps for him. It guided his strikes, whispered its purpose, drank from every wound it caused.
At some point, he no longer knew how long the battle had gone on. Minutes? Hours?
Three more beasts lay dead.
But Eren was bleeding. His shoulder was torn open. A rib may have cracked. He fell once, almost didn't get back up. But Elira's voice rang out.
"Stand."
He did.
The last two beasts came together. One fast, one armored. The fast one circled him, slicing shallow wounds, weakening him further. The armored one charged like a living wall.
Eren dropped to one knee. His vision blurred. The weight of the sword was unbearable.
He thought of dropping it. Letting it go. Surrendering.
But then he saw her face.
Lyria.
Not as she had looked in death, but as she had looked beneath the summer sun, laughing beside him in the fields near their home. Her hand brushing his. Her eyes full of light.
He remembered her voice.
"Don't give up, Eren. Not until you reach me."
With a roar, he rose.
Akreth surged with light. Not red. Not black. Something deeper. Like a storm waking beneath the sea.
He turned, cutting down the fast one in a single motion. Then charged the armored beast, blade first.
They collided.
The beast slammed him to the ground but Akreth struck home. The sword pierced the creature's chest. A crack echoed through the clearing, and the fire-ring shattered with it.
The beast howled. Then went still.
Eren lay beneath its weight, breathing ragged. The sword pulsed once more, then quieted.
Elira walked to him, her face unreadable.
"You passed," she said.
He didn't answer. Just looked up at the sky, where the stars had returned.
After a long pause, he asked, "What happens now?"
She knelt beside him and touched his brow.
"Now," she said softly, "you begin to understand what you've bound yourself to."