On the second day…
Daron woke shortly before sunrise.
There was no sound to rouse him.
No voice calling his name.
Only that strange inner sensation that had become increasingly familiar since the training began.
It was as if a part of him simply refused to keep sleeping.
He opened his eyes slowly.
His body still ached from the previous day, the kind of exhaustion that settled deep within the muscles rather than lingering on the surface.
Yet his mind was alert.
Awake.
Focused.
Today would not be like yesterday.
When he arrived at the training grounds, the sun had only just begun to rise.
Pale golden rays stretched across the empty field, casting long shadows over the frozen earth.
The cold air bit at his throat and jolted the body awake.
But he wasn’t alone.
Jin was already there.
The giant stood firmly in place, his massive steel armor covering his chest and shoulders like an impregnable wall.
His enormous axe rested casually on one shoulder, as though it were a natural extension of his body rather than a weapon heavy enough to crush stone.
Daron approached.
Jin looked at him and spoke without a hint of courtesy.
“Prepare yourself, Daron.”
His voice was calm.
“I don’t show mercy.”
Daron drew his sword and tightened his grip.
At that moment, he realized something important.
Karl had been a swift and aggressive attacker—sharp, direct, and relentless.
Jin was the complete opposite.
A fortress.
A defender.
Not the kind of opponent who could be broken through reckless aggression or simple tricks.
Unfortunately, he had no choice.
Daron lunged forward.
His blade flashed toward Jin’s left shoulder.
Blocked.
Effortlessly.
The giant’s shield didn’t even tremble.
Then Jin moved.
Not with his axe.
With the shield itself.
The impact slammed into Daron from the side with terrifying force.
His body spun.
He lost his footing and stumbled backward several steps before barely managing to recover.
Jin raised his head.
“Weak.”
The word carried a cold, almost mocking calmness.
Daron clenched his teeth.
“Not yet…”
He charged again.
Before he could reach him—
He felt it.
Danger.
Too late.
Jin’s axe swept horizontally through the air with monstrous force.
Daron instinctively raised his sword to block.
A mistake.
The collision struck like lightning.
The force surged through his arms and rattled his entire body.
Pain shot from his wrist to his shoulder.
His bones held, but they rang like a bell struck by a hammer.
He staggered backward, breathing heavily.
Jin remained where he stood.
He watched Daron quietly before speaking again.
“You’re trying to fight me the same way you fought Karl.”
He paused.
“Abandon that approach.”
His gaze hardened.
“Or you’ll break for real.”
Daron took a deep breath.
Jin was right.
A direct assault would never work.
The problem was that he didn’t know what would.
He attacked again.
And again.
And again.
The first round ended with him completely overwhelmed.
By the fifth, he had begun slowing down and observing.
By the seventh—
Something changed.
There.
He felt it.
Jin’s will.
But it wasn’t like Karl’s.
Karl’s will had been sharp and explosive.
Jin’s was thick.
Heavy.
Solid.
Like an invisible wall surrounding him from every direction.
The closer Daron got, the more he felt an oppressive weight pushing him back.
He took a step away.
“This isn’t just physical defense…”
His eyes narrowed.
“It’s defensive will.”
After lunch, they returned.
This time, Daron didn’t rush in.
He observed.
Sensed.
Searched.
Every defense had a weakness.
Even Jin’s.
“Not the shield…”
His attention sharpened.
“What lies behind it.”
He focused on Jin’s will.
It wasn’t one continuous wall.
It was layered.
Multiple defensive layers stacked upon one another.
And the weakest point appeared during movement.
When Jin attacked.
Daron tried.
Failed.
Twice.
Three times.
But he was getting closer.
Noticeably closer.
By the end of the day, he still hadn’t broken through.
But he understood.
And for the first time, he realized something important.
The sensation alone wasn’t enough.
The following day, it was Amy’s turn.
She stood in the center of the training ground, stretching lightly as though preparing for a dance rather than a fight.
When he approached, she smiled.
“Ready, Daron?”
He drew his sword.
She vanished.
Literally vanished from where she had been standing before his eyes could track her movement.
A strike came from behind.
A precise kick.
Daron crashed to the ground.
His breath left him for a moment.
He raised his head.
Amy stood above him.
Laughing.
“Daron…”
Her tone suddenly changed.
“I’m not the same Amy who fought beside you in the war.”
She paused.
“Back then, I was weak.”
Her expression became serious.
“Naive.”
Her eyes held a quiet certainty.
“But I saw death.”
A moment later, she smiled.
“And I learned.”
Then she pointed at him.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Daron rose to his feet.
“So this won’t be easy.”
“It won’t.”
The fight began.
From the very first exchange, he understood one thing.
She was faster.
Not a little faster.
Overwhelmingly faster.
Her ability enhanced her speed and agility to the point where tracking her with his eyes alone became difficult.
Her will was strange.
Light.
Yet steady.
Like a current that never stopped flowing.
It didn’t explode like Karl’s.
It didn’t harden like Jin’s.
It flowed.
Daron tried to follow her.
Sometimes he succeeded.
But his body couldn’t keep up.
He could see.
He simply couldn’t move fast enough.
And that was when the painful truth struck him.
“I’m not ready.”
By the end of the day, he was exhausted.
Yet he had learned far more than he expected.
That evening, as usual, the team gathered together.
This time, however, the surprise wasn’t directed at Daron.
It was directed at Amy.
“What happened to you?” Karl asked.
Jin nodded.
“You’ve improved noticeably.”
Nour smiled.
“You’re different.”
Amy simply laughed.
But Daron understood.
Training wasn’t changing only him.
It was changing all of them.
The fifth day was the hardest.
Nour.
And her archery.
She didn’t use real arrows.
Instead, she used rubber-tipped practice arrows that left painful bruises.
As he endured strike after strike, Daron found himself wishing she had simply used real ones.
At least then he could stop pretending the training arrows didn’t hurt.
Nour stood at a distance.
She drew her bow.
Released.
The arrow shot forward.
Fast.
Daron felt nothing beforehand.
Too slow.
Impact.
He cried out.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until he began to understand.
“Arrows don’t carry will.”
His eyes widened.
“They’re launched by it.”
Everything happened in a single instant.
The moment of release.
That was where the will existed.
Only there.
He froze.
“Then I have to move before the arrow.”
The realization sank in.
But that was far more difficult.
He wasn’t fighting the arrow itself.
He was fighting a moment.
A decision.
A fragment of intent.
The instant before the shot.
He tried.
Failed.
Again and again.
Until doubt began creeping into his mind.
“Is this even possible…?”
He searched.
Thought.
Analyzed.
And eventually arrived at a single conclusion.
“This is another level.”
A level that didn’t rely solely on perception.
But on understanding.