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Chapter 174: Brock’s Trial
🕑 Added 2023-04-25 17:36:00 +0000 UTCWhen the world settled, Brock found himself in a long and narrow underground chamber. Or, at least, it looked underground. There were no windows. He might as well be in a large stone box illuminated by a series of torches on the walls.
Said walls were covered in moss, like the outside ones, but the room’s main point was the floor. Brock stood on a narrow ledge against one wall. A second ledge was against the far wall, with a closed door in its midst—the only door in the room.
Between the two ledges, the floor was about ten feet lower. Green, wooden poles rose sparsely from it, standing at about the same height as the ledges. At first glance, Brock got the instinct to jump from pole to pole to reach the other side. But there was no reason. The floor looked fine.
Of course, he would still jump on the poles, because it was more fun.
“Welcome, brave soul, to my Trial,” a male voice boomed out. Brock jumped in surprise, almost dropping his staff, but there was no one around. He scratched his head in confusion as the voice continued unabated. “My name is Ermedil Asantra, First General of the Low Sky. My Dao is that of Force, but at the E-Grade, which Trial Planet is meant to test, I cultivated the Dao Seed of Density. Therefore, that is the Dao I will pass on to you!”
There was power in that voice. Deep, unshakable confidence, an edge that made Brock apprehensive. At the same time, there was also excitement. The voice spoke with a rush, like energy was bubbling from its throat.
Brock didn’t get all the words. He got the point, though.
“I have composed a trial of three chambers,” the voice bro continued. “The first chamber will test your balance, a necessary skill to master Density. You must make it to the other side by jumping on the tips of the bamboo poles. If you touch the ground, you will be eliminated and teleported out. I wish you luck!”
Then, it went silent. Brock scratched his head, squinting at the room ahead. He was already going to jump, for fun.
But Big Bro had taught him to be careful. Therefore, Brock decided to scout for traps. Reaching back, he grabbed a piece of poop and sent it hurtling through the room, crossing the hundred feet of space before landing on the other ledge with a dry plop.
No traps. Brock nodded to himself, deciding it was safe. Big Bro would be proud.
Therefore, tightening his grip on the staff, Brock jumped on the first bamboo—as the voice bro had called it. Landing was easy. However, the moment he did, the bamboo bent under his feet, leaning forward before swinging back again.
Brock made monkey sounds, almost losing his balance before steadying himself. He intuitively held his staff horizontally, helping him balance. The bamboo was still swaying, however, and even Brock’s Elite F-Grade body couldn’t handle this easily.
He rode the bamboo’s forward swaying to leap to the next pole, which also began to sway. This time, he was ready. As it fell forward, he leaped again, crossing ten feet to land on the next one. He was prepared for it to sway again, so he leaned back. Unfortunately, this bamboo was treacherous. It remained steady.
As a result, Brock was falling backward. He windmilled his arms in the air to regain his balance, releasing worried monkey cries all the while, but he was too far back. As he slowly tipped backward, he pictured his Big Bro’s disappointed face if he failed.
No. He was already dead weight. He couldn’t fail here.
Brock’s rotating arms moved faster, like a whirlwind. He used them as oars, pushing the air back so fast that his tipping slowed. At the same time, he channeled the Big Thought in his heart. An entire line of muscles, from his heel, to his butt, to his spine and neck, all clenched at the same time. His toes hugged the edge of the bamboo with all their strength, and with massive effort, he pulled himself straight.
He heaved a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his forehead. Then, he narrowed his eyes at the rest of the poles.
This bamboo was crafty. But he refused to fail. He could do it. Like everything else, balance was a muscle, and he had the Big Thought of Muscle.
Focusing on his balance muscle, Brock jumped again, ready to respond to the pole. This one swayed. Brock was using his Big Thought now, controlling his body’s muscles perfectly, so he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. He leaped from this pole to the next, which did not sway. Brock took a second to steady himself, but he was okay. Like that, he kept going.
There were no other tricks to the bamboo poles. Some swayed, and some didn’t. Brock reached the far ledge without a problem, landing right next to his thrown poop. He considered taking it with him, to not soil this place, but it had tricky bamboo. It deserved to be pooped.
He opened the stone door and entered the next room. This one was narrower, almost a corridor, and only ten feet across. There was nothing wrong with the floor or walls, but instead of a door leading further in, a massive boulder blocked the exit, wide enough that it occupied almost the entire width of the corridor.
“Congratulations! Your balance must be outstanding! And if you flew your way across, well, flying requires balance, too!” the voice bro returned. Brock nodded gracefully, accepting the praise.
“Yes,” he replied.
“This chamber will test your strength—the opposite end from balance. Both are required to master density. Starting now, you have one minute to lift the boulder, which is adjusted to your current level, and reach the final chamber. I wish you luck!”
Brock knew how long a minute was. Big Bro had taught him. But it was too little! This voice bro was stupid!
Frantic, Brock rushed to the massive boulder blocking the exit. It was wider than his two arms stretched to the limit, and it rose above his head. How was he supposed to lift it?
Thankfully, Brock had practiced at the forest gym with Father and the other bros. He knew how to lift. Holding the Staff of Stone in his mouth, he bent down and slipped his fingers under the rock. Keeping his back straight, he lifted with his knees.
Instantly, he felt the boulder’s crushing weight. It was so heavy he could barely raise it a couple inches, and his arms were already burning. So were his thighs.
Again, the consequences of failure passed through his head. He would be left behind. He would have to abandon his big bro or pull him down. He would be useless. A burden. And his big bro would be disappointed at Brock’s failure.
No. Failure was not an option. He did not want to be discarded.
Brock channeled the Big Thought again. He believed in the muscles of his arms and thighs, encouraged them to work harder. Help me, muscle bros!
Inch by inch, the boulder rose. Brock felt his neck muscles tighten, bringing him fear, but he used his bravery muscle to overcome it. He felt exhaustion creep in, tempting him to give up, but he used his resolve muscle to silence it. He felt his vision waver, but he just flexed his eye muscles.
When his arms went numb, his waist was compressed, and his legs were on the verge of giving in, he reinforced all those muscles with the Big Thought.
The boulder finally rose to Brock’s chest. Now, he had to pass under it.
With slow, small steps, he inched forward. He ducked his head under the boulder, transitioning its weight from his arms to his shoulders and neck, letting it rest there fully for a moment as he repositioned his arms to push up with his palms.
Thankfully, the forest gym practiced all sorts of heavy lifting.
Slowly and carefully, taking good care to maintain proper form, Brock rolled the weight over his shoulders until he was halfway through. Then, he simply let it roll away as he jumped to the other side.
He escaped the crash. Only the tip of the Saff was caught under the boulder, but Brock simply yanked it out.
His entire body was burning, but he had made it through.
“Congratulations! Your strength is surely outstanding! And, if you somehow cheated my trial, well, shame on you!”
The voice bro was here, as always, though Brock couldn’t see him. Maybe he was hiding in the walls.
“You have proven your balance and strength, but density is more than its extremes. You must be able to transition between them and use them fluidly. Therefore, the final chamber will test your skill in combat. If you fail this trial, you will die. I wish you luck!”
Die?
Brock released a sound of protest before realizing it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t fail. But how sad would Big Bro be if Brock never returned? Would he even know what happened?
No. That was unacceptable. Brock ignored his burning body and channeled the Big Thought fully, ready to go all-out from the very start.
This chamber was a fifty by twenty feet stone box. There was no exit, and the entrance was blocked by the previous boulder. The only other thing in the room was a stone statue which rigidly moved to face Brock—something that good stone bros rarely did. It wore a horned helmet and armor that cascaded over its body, similar to the statue on the outside, though the face was different.
This statue also wielded a massive halberd that took up at least half the room’s width.
Brock prepared himself for combat. He twirled the Staff of Stone, settling into a stance with the staff behind his back. He charged out first. His Big Thought went into his legs, increasing their strength, pushing him from a run to a gallop.
The statue swung overhead. Brock raised his staff to block. The strike came hard. Brock shook, his knees buckled, his palms split, and his elbows groaned as they almost gave out. He barely held.
He twisted the staff to the side, letting the halberd slide its way across, then swiped it at the stone bro. The stone bro stepped back, dodging the strike and retrieving his halberd. It came from the side, this time. Brock jumped over it, focusing on his reflex muscles to grab onto the shaft mid-air, rotate with it, and swipe his staff at the stone bro from above.
Staff met horned helmet, making the stone bro look down for a second. Brock used that time to somersault through the air, using his strike’s recoil to fly over the stone bro and land behind him. The stone bro swiped his halberd around, but Brock, expecting this, ducked under it. He swung low, swiping the stone bro’s legs out from under him, then raised his staff and smashed it into the stone bro’s neck from above mid-fall.
Brock quickly jumped over the stone bro again, expecting a wild slash from the halberd, but it never came. The stone bro’s neck had been broken by the previous strike. He now lay on the ground, lifeless, like all good stone bros should.
“Congratulations!” the voice bro spoke again. Brock wondered if he would finally exit his wall and come talk face to face like a real bro, but that wasn’t meant to happen. “You have proven balance, strength, and skill. You have passed my trial! Again, congratulations!”
Brock nodded, gracefully accepting the praise.
“With this, you will now inherit an item that should help you master Density: the Pink Muscle Pill! I made it by combining the insights of my Dao Seed of Density and the Dao Root of Muscles.”
Brock’s mouth formed into an ‘o’. He released a cry. This was no voice bro. He was a Dao bro!
Light flashed before Brock, and a pink pill the size of his pinky nail appeared in front of his face. He caught it as it fell and swallowed it.
The change was instantaneous. Brock felt the pill dispersing in his mouth before he even swallowed it. A breeze spread through his body, seeping into his every muscle and making it stronger.
No, not just stronger; more durable, too. Brock was beyond elated. His entire body had transformed into a better version of itself. His muscles, from his toes to his biceps, had been through ten years of working out all at once.
He swung his Staff of Stone around, marveling at how precise his control was, how explosive his movements. It felt like he could do anything.
He couldn’t wait to show his Big Bro.
“Red muscles are explosive; they have great strength but can only work in short bursts. White muscles are weak but can work for long periods of time. The Pink Muscle Pill will transform all your muscles into pink muscles, which can release explosive strength momentarily or weaker strength over longer periods, depending on what you need. This happens by altering their interior density to perfectly accommodate both states—a feat that is normally achievable by long, grueling training. As a Dao pill, it works on all sorts of physical beings, regardless of body structure. In short, this pill will enhance your combat strength significantly, making you far more versatile than you currently are. Moreover, by meditating on the new properties of your muscles, you can gain insights into Density.”
The voice suddenly grew downcast.
“Unfortunately, the Pink Muscle Pill is all I can leave you. I do not possess the strength to impart you with a Dao Root or the rank to leave my actual insights in this Trial Planet. Even the weapon I used up to the early D-Grade, my prized Staff of Stone, has been stolen from me by Alta’zed the Almighty! If you ever run into him or his descendants, you should fight to get it back!”
Brock proudly beat his chest. This Dao bro had nothing to worry about. Brock’s strength was so great that he had already retrieved the staff!
“With that, my trial has concluded. I have great hopes for you, brave soul. Perhaps one day you will reach the heights I have, and be able to lead armies of immortals against your enemies, claiming glory and power! Laugh and prosper. Never give up. And, most of all, I wish you luck! Farewell.”
“Thanks,” Brock replied.
Instantly, space warped around him. Brock felt a lurching in his belly. Suddenly, he stood before the statue again, just in time to see it collapsing and dispersing into dust.
Unfortunately, he only had time to give his Dao bro a hasty nod before looking around. The entire palace was shaking. His friends were shouting.
Brock scowled. He had only left them alone for five minutes. How had they managed to screw up already?
Comments
johnc99
Hell yeah, go Brock!
