With the hammer retrieved, the leather scroll lightly shone, and along with it, the location of the hammer lost its glow to signal that its role was finished. Peter, now with half of his objectives completed, set his sights on the anvil on the opposite path, and unlike his previous journey, the road to the anvil was a single straight line.

However, it was never going to be an easy task. While the hammer’s road was winding and arduous, requiring extensive knowledge of poisons and bravery against the beast, the path of the anvil was set to beat its challenger with pure physical extortion.

Mere minutes after the boy started treading the long road, the weather, as if having a mind of its own, suddenly blazed, changing from a mild spring breeze to a scorching summer sun in mere seconds. The unbearable heat dried up the land in an instant, turning once soft soil into hard, stony roads, cracking at every step Peter took. With each step sinking into the now mixture of dirt and sand, his feet dragged on the ground akin to walking with shackles. Meanwhile, the fiery air also served as a too effective sponge, parching the boy’s throat in just a few moments. The hot and dry air, mixed in with sand and blistering wind made the road eerily similar to that of a desert.

Damn demon and his trickeries… Peter grumbled in his mind, but the boy did not dare speak his thoughts out loud. Any excess stamina consumption could lead him to a water deficiency, and it was the last thing that he wanted traversing this immense heat.

Nonetheless, the only option was to keep moving forward, and this was where the test of the long road began. The map had purposely hidden it, but once Peter started, a realization hit him. This path, though long, was in no way fully straight. Each of his steps felt heavier and heavier as he trod the scorching sands, and it wasn’t because of his already battered stamina being drained by the second because of the sun. The road he took was slowly but surely getting steeper, indicating his final destination to be on top of a barren hill.

However, not all was lost, for the trial had also conveniently placed a river right next to the road as a guide. Thankfully, it had not been dried out when the blazing heat took place, likely a product of the magical power that the demon possessed. But that also created a lifeline for the parched boy, as he now knew that he could just continue however long he could, and there would always be a water source readily available for him to consume.

With this thought in mind, Peter continued without a hitch for a long while, as far as his feet could take him. Of course, his stamina still had its limits, and the boy eventually found his entire body screaming in pain, with a little more than half of the long road ahead of him.

“Time… to rest…” the boy panted, making his way to the river beside him.

Closing his eyes to enjoy the refreshing nature for just a second, Peter felt his body and spirit being cleansed of any dirt and grime before the beautiful, winding stream of life. The boy merrily made his way down the bank, hoping to catch the water he needed, and perhaps even taking a dip into the cool water.

Little did he know, that so-called stream of life was in fact a venomous snake, ready to jump towards him as soon as his guard was down.

A foul odor was soon carried by the light wind, enough for the boy to cover his nose in disgust and fear. Just down the shore, right where the water lay, grew a small tree filled with flowers. These flowers were quite small and grew in clusters, their snow-white petals serving as an added beauty to the green pastures on the shore, making a curious individual unable to resist its cute and fluffy nature. However, looks can be deceiving, and for these flowers, the slightest touch could spell the end.

“First castor oil, now hemlocks?” Peter mumbled. These flowers might be pretty, but they were indeed poisonous – another common sight on the isles he was born in, found usually under the damp air of the forest after a rainy day. Unlike castor oils, however, these were easy to spot and avoid thanks to the stench they produce. However, their presence here meant that the life river had been ruled out as an option, for the chance of their petals and leaves having already fallen down the stream was too much to gamble on.

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With a sigh of defeat, the boy had no choice but to keep going, despite every bone in his body begging otherwise.

Once he made it to the destination, Peter’s entire body ached, as if he could break apart at any second, even if there was so much as a leaf that touched him. And to the unfortunate boy, it was still nowhere near the end of his second trial.

Right in front of him was a hole. A small one, perhaps barely wide enough for a child to go through, but its seemingly endless depth only sent a shiver down his spine. Meanwhile, atop the sloped road lay a glimmering lake, its water sparkling with life. And thankfully, there was not a single hemlock tree in its sight, either. But contrary to that, another problem arose – there was also no anvil to be seen.

“Where is it…” Peter muttered in confusion. The hole itself was not big enough for an anvil to fit, so the boy quickly ruled out the thought. As he approached the lakeside to scan the area, the boy couldn’t detect any signs of the ground being disturbed either, so he ruled out the possibility of the anvil being buried somewhere as well. However, with those two chances not being possible, there was only one option left.

As the boy staggered towards the lake, his heart pleaded that it wasn’t the outcome that he had in mind. But as fate would suggest, he was correct.

The anvil was there… at the bottom of the lake.

On the bright side, it was not in the center of the lake, just a few meters at best from the shore. But that was where the luck would end, for through the crystal-clear lake water, Peter gazed in horror as the object in question was bound by a natural chain of freakishly big algae, while its bottom was rooted firmly to the soil beneath. Retrieval was essentially impossible, especially considering that one had to dive to get to it in the first place, and the boy had long lost the last ounce of strength in him.

Without any notice, the boy fell on his back, lying defeated at the inevitable result. Gazing at the shining sky above, he could only question what to do, now that he had seemingly failed…

But… What will happen when I fail? The thought ran across his mind. Though he was fine (sans the sore muscles) at the moment, the boy was still aware that the longer he took, the less chance that his actual body outside would heal up.

Will I die if I fail to complete my trial, then?

Taking a deep breath, the boy brought his hands close to his face, and with a loud slap, hit his cheeks as hard as he could. Only a light pink flush showed on his cheeks, but that was enough to snap him out of his doldrums.

“I won’t die here,” Peter spoke his thoughts out loud as a way to remind himself. “Not like this.”

As the boy sat back up to prepare for a round of diving, a mysterious force held back his clothes as if something was tugging it from the ground. The culprit was none other than the other object of his task – the hammer, with one of its ends being pointed, had somehow gotten stuck to the ground, presumably from his fall earlier.

It was at this moment that Peter was struck with a flash of genius.

The boy glanced at the ground once more. It was quite the steep slope – not quite enough for him to completely slide down if he slipped his concentration, but enough to roll down a log from the top. He then lightly chipped on the ground with the hammer’s pointed end, and with the slight prod, the ground easily broke into small pieces – proof that the dry atmosphere was keeping the earth easy to be dug.

In the end, this was just a test of strength…

Peter raised his arms to the sky, hammer firmly in his hands, and slammed it down at the ground like a pickax, starting from the lake’s shore to where the hole stands. With each passing hit, the boy’s hands swelled and reddened in pain, but that much was not enough for him to stop. Even as blood started to spurt out of his palm, he stubbornly continued, his mind only focused on the single task in front of him.

After what could only be described as tortuous labor, the boy had managed to dig up a small canal that was only a few inches deep at most, but ran straight from the lake to the hole on the hill. And with the natural slope nature of this hill, the magic would soon occur.

The water from the lake, seeing its new home, trickled down. Slowly but surely, water filled up the hole, while the water in the lake descended. However, because of the small nature of the canal that the boy had dug, the entire process still took around half a day, enough for him to leisurely watch the sun visibly move from the top of his head to beyond the horizon, turning from a bright yellow to a deep crimson color.

The water had not been drawn out completely, but it was just enough. The anvil, once completely hidden at the bottom of the lake, was now showing its surface ever so slightly, while the water level itself was perfect for the boy to cross over without having to dive in.

At that moment, the scroll in his hand shone for the third time, and before he could even grab it to open, it had already flown out of his control, unrolling itself to reveal a set of shining, golden letters:

With a clash of iron and steel

Only the truth shall be revealed