The best thing about lifting - well, one of the fifty best things - is that you can channel anything into it. Anger and frustration are potent, and so is fear. Joy and euphoria are alright, if that’s all you have going for you. Horniness is also a valuable resource - if there’s a pretty girl in the gym, I lift about 5% more. Not that I think women are worth the extra effort (don’t get it twisted), it’s just how my damn gorilla mind is wired. And if it helps me gain muscle, I’ll take it.

Some forbidden-forum-dwellers even claim that edging during a lift boosts performance as well. 

But only in public gyms.

The chastity belt dug into my waist as I pumped the weights over my head, putting the finishing touches on my latest and greatest torture session.

I guess we’ll never know, will we?

After hours of exertion, I was trembling and covered in sweat. I don’t normally lift this hard, but I had a bit more than usual to get off my chest these days.

I hyuk’d and slapped my knee, dropping the metal that I’d been pressing to the floor with a rough clatter.

I turned to look at the filthy cellar door and for a moment, I could almost picture Stella walking through it to ask me how I was doing.

Like that’s gonna happen.

I had this gnawing feeling that I needed advice, except I didn’t know exactly what advice I needed. People with a religion are lucky in a way - whenever they feel lost they can just ask the man upstairs.

But me? All I’ve got is…

The man upstairs! 

Dunkan!

I hopped up off the bench and climbed the stairs up from the chamber.

I didn’t know what I wanted to say to Dunkan, I just figured I'd shoot the shit for a bit and see if anything illuminating fell from the skies.

As I approached the front entrance of the church, I heard the sound of voices arguing. It was just about the end of the day, so mass would be over already. I couldn't think of who would be around at this time of day to have a dispute, so I barged on in to find out.

The church was empty except for two men, and of course the ceremonial barbell, which sat there, overseeing their heated discussion like a referee.

"Why not?!" Burt demanded. "I'm definitely strong enough! I just lifted that thing ten times!"

"Young man, I know it's frustrating." Dunkan advised in a soothing tone. "I used to be just like you - young and ambitious, willing to do anything for a bit of adventure! I thought I was gonna conquer the world! Starting with the Six Summits challenge!"

"So you did attempt it!" Burt jumped at the opening. "Then who are you to tell me I can't?!"

Burt's back was to me, so he didn't see that I'd walked in. Dunkan was facing me, and while he didn’t acknowledge my presence, I’m sure he saw me. I leaned against the doorway to watch the show.

Dunkan chuckled at Burt’s accusation. He ambled his way over to the weight and stood in the center, flexing his meat cannons a couple of times to get them heated up.

Then, without pausing or giving any hint of exertion, he bent down and picked the weight up with one hand, like it was nothing but a briefcase.

He held it for a moment, allowing the metal to make his point, then gently set it back on the altar.

Burt watched in silence. I wish I could've seen his expression, but I'd like to think that his back stooped a little bit lower in defeat.

"Burt, do you know how many of the Six Summits I was able to achieve?" Dunkan asked.

"Three?... Four?" Burt mused.

"One. I felt a slight tremor on Two, but I wasn't nearly strong enough to lift it. Have you seen Kallum around town at all? Stood next to him?"

"The olympian guy? Yeah, I have."

"Kallum was unable to lift Four. It took me years and years of my life to learn this lesson: The Six Summits challenge isn't meant for humans like you and me. It's only ever been intended for the Olympians - the direct lineage of Tevveshian - and only the mightiest of them at that. I don't think there's a living thing on this continent today that could complete the Six Summits challenge."

Burt stood there quietly, mulling over his life choices.

"You know, I've been to Apis before." Dunkan continued. "I actually helped your father build it. Small, out of the way... it's a little slice of heaven. Go back to your home, Burt. There's a community there that loves you. Marry Allison. Don't take them for granted - or you might end up ruing the day you decided to leave."

"And what!? Spend the rest of my life farming? I might as well be dead!" Burt roared, and whipped around to leave.

He quickly looked away when he noticed me, then stormed out of the Church in a rage.

You’re never the biggest guy in the gym.

“Bradley. What can I do for you on this tranquil evening?” Dunkan asked in greeting, his tone even and undisturbed. Burt could spend all day chucking rocks in this pond and Dunkan’s face wouldn’t even show a ripple.

“The Six Summits Challenge… what is that, exactly?” I asked.

Duncan paused for a second to collect his thoughts, crossing his arms and looking downwards at the ceremonial weight.

“The six highest mountains in Alterra are crowned by six temples. Inside these temples rest six weights - which we in the Church refer to as ‘Summits’.” Dunkan began. 

“They were measured and placed by Matthias himself, to determine his worthy successor. He based their weight off of his own strength. The First is the lightest and easiest to lift, the Second is heavier, the Third heavier still… and the Sixth was the maximum weight that Matthias himself could lift. Its exact weight is unknown.”

Dunkan gestured to the weight on the Altar.

“This is the origin of our Church’s test of manhood. It was inspired by Matthias’s Challenge, but adjusted to be difficult, yet achievable for the average man: This weight here is roughly half the mass of the First Summit.”

“Half?!” I said incredulously. I did some quick bro-math.

Carry the one… The First must be damn near six hundred pounds!

“And the First is roughly half of the Second.” Dunkan added.

I tried doing some more bro-math, but I couldn’t count that high.

I’d have to be built like Hafthor Bjornssen to pick that shit up! 6’9 and 420 lb of biological steel!

“And Burt thought he was gonna be able to do that?”

“There is also an adventurous flair to the challenge - the peaks are scattered throughout the continent, and it’s not uncommon for adventurous young men to visit each of them in pilgrimage, even if they have no hope of lifting the weights.”

I looked at the ceremonial weight, and it looked back at me expectantly.

Dunkan saw my glance and read my mind. He folded his arms behind his back and paced around the weight ponderously.

“I’ve seen a lot of children become men in this house of God. And over time I learned that there were two kinds - those who were born to lift this weight and those who were not. I’m sure you’ve met both types?”

“Burt’s got a knack for it… and I don’t.” I admitted. It hurt to say, but it was the truth.

“Precisely!” Dunkan responded, holding up a finger. “There are always those who can lift the weight quite easily without any kind of training or preparation. And there are always those who cannot. Yet strangely, I’ve always felt that the weaker children were the ones who got the most out of the challenge. They were the ones who had to struggle and toil to change themselves. They were the ones who learned that growth can come not only from natural development, but from effort and dedication. Through the challenge they learn, and they apply the lesson to each of their other pursuits, and they go off to achieve incredible things.”

“Which kind of person were you?” I asked.

“The former.” Dunkan admitted. “I learned the lesson, not through the test of manhood, but through the First Summit. It took many years of training for me to finally conquer it - and many more to accept that I would never accomplish the Second.”

He trailed off, lost in thought. The candles that lit the church wavered, casting flickering shadows around the empty pew-filled chamber.

“You’ve become stronger since I met you, Bradley. I think it’s time to find out if you’ve learned anything yourself.”

I looked at the weight again and nodded. I hadn’t attempted to lift it in awhile, but Dunkan was right. I’d changed. Maybe not as a person, but at least as a ball of meat.

I took my position over the weight and gripped it in the center. I took a powerful stance with my feet just a bit wider than my shoulders. I filled my lungs with a deep breath and braced my core. I stiffened my back and tightened my legs.

And then I pulled.

The weight moved, jumping up a bit as I yanked, but it was still a bit too much, and it quickly slammed back to the floor.

I stood back up and gathered myself, allowing my clouded vision to clear.

The feeling was unmistakable - I’d failed… but my weak point had changed, from my legs… to my wrists!

And there was an easy fix for that.

I once again took my stance over the bar and gripped it - but this time, I turned one of my wrists out in the mixed-grip technique!

I breathed in and held for a moment, calibrating my balance. From my first attempt, I now knew exactly how the weight would feel as it came up, exactly how much I would need to rock back to compensate for it.

Then I pulled again.

And in one slow, trembling motion, the weight lifted until I was standing fully upright. I held for another moment until Dunkan nodded his approval.

It’s way easier to hold this thing than it is to lift it…

And then I dropped the weight to the altar with a thundering crash, the candles flickering madly at the impact.

Dunkan smiled. “Bradley Razzetti! By the divine ordinance of Tevveshian, the God of Man, the First Savior, and the founder of our Church, I declare you a man! God has given you his power - use it well!”

It was almost the exact same thing John had said during the Shaman Festival, way back when I could barely lift half of the ceremonial weight.

Hard to believe how far I’ve come since then…

“Thank you, Dunkan.” I said uncertainly. It was rather forward of him to induct me into a Church that I’d never said I wanted to join in the first place. But ever since I’d set my eyes on the weight on the altar in Apis, I’d known that I would one day want to lift it.

“Where’s the First Summit located, exactly?”

“Not you too…” Dunkan groaned.

“I promise not to waste my life on it!” I said indignantly.

I’m gonna be wandering all over the damn continent looking for keys anyway, so I might as well hit some holy sites along the way.

“The First Summit is atop Orthos mountain, which soars above the city of Aetheria. It is one of the more accessible summits.”

My pulse quickened. I had no idea if I would ever be able to lift the weight, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little bit curious to see it.

“When people hear how close the challenge is - just a mere teleport away - they set right off, claiming that they will only be visiting for a while, and then I don’t see them for ten years!” Dunkan exclaimed sadly.

“Sometimes I wonder why Matthias would leave something so distracting in his wake.” he pondered.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me, Father Dunkan! I’ll only be gone for a little while!” I said.

Of course, If I’d been hooked up to a polygraph, the line would have jumped all over the place, spelling out “FUCK OFF” on the graph.

But a polygraph was hardly necessary here. Both Dunkan and I could tell that I was lying through my damn teeth.