**Chapter 12: No Pain, No Gain
**
The morning light pierced through the lavish silk curtains of the bedroom, hitting Lucien directly in the eyes. He groaned, rolling over to block out the sun, every muscle in his body already protesting the simple act of moving.
Before he could pull the heavy duvet over his head and sink back into sleep, a loud, cheerful *chime* resonated directly inside his brain.
[ Good morning, Host! (•‿•) ]
[ Daily Quest: 'Foundation of the Sovereign' has been generated. ]
Lucien opened one eye, bleary and irritated. "Daily quest? I thought you said rewards were locked until I fought monsters."
[ Correct. However, basic physical conditioning requires no external mana application—only sheer willpower. To build a vessel capable of handling high-tier techniques, you must complete the Daily Quest within 16 hours, and I already told last night, you forgeted.]
A translucent blue screen hovered in front of his face, detailing the parameters:
> [Daily Quest: Foundation of the Sovereign]
> Push-ups:0 / 100
> Pull-ups: 0 / 100
> Squats: 0 / 100
> Plank: 0 / 3 minutes
> Run: 0 / 10 km
> Failure Penalty: Random attribute deduction & 2 hours of forced muscle spasms.
>
Lucien stared at the floating text, his mouth agape. "Are you out of your mind, Ada? Look at me! I can barely walk down the stairs without hyperventilating! One hundred push-ups? Ten kilometers?!"
[ The Host has 15 hours and 59 minutes remaining. Good luck! ]
"You sadistic piece of..." Lucien muttered, cutting himself off. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.
He didn't have a choice. The failure penalty alone sounded horrific, but more than that, he remembered his goal: survival. The dungeon mutation during the ranking trials was coming, and if he remained a heavily overweight noble who collapsed after a brisk walk, he would be nothing more than monster chow.
Gritting his teeth, Lucien dragged his heavy body out of the plush bed.
He started with the push-ups on the polished hardwood floor of his vast chamber.
"One..."
His arms trembled instantly. His core sagged toward the floor.
"Two..."
Sweat began to pool on the floor beneath his face by the fifth rep. By the tenth, his arms gave out completely, and he collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air. His lungs burned like hot coals, and his arms felt as weak as wet noodles.
‘Eighty-ten left,’ he thought bitterly. ‘I'm going to die before the cult even gets here.’
He didn't give up, though. He broke the numbers into brutal sets of five, then sets of two, and eventually single agonizing reps. He screamed into the floorboards as his pectoral muscles tore and repaired themselves, every push an exercise in sheer torment.
Next came the squats. His heavy thighs felt like lead blocks. By rep fifty, his knees were cracking so loudly he thought they might shatter.
Then came the pull-ups. With no bar in his room, he had to use the sturdy wooden beam above his wardrobe. Pulling his substantial weight upward felt utterly impossible. His hands slipped from sweat, the skin on his palms blistering and peeling away, leaving raw, pink flesh beneath.
When he reached the three-minute plank, time seemed to dilate. Every second felt like an eternity. His entire body vibrated like a plucked guitar string, tears of sheer physical exhaustion leaking from the corners of his eyes.
By afternoon, only the final challenge remained: the ‘‘10 km run’’.
Lucien walked out to the sprawling private training grounds behind his family's estate, wearing lightweight linen clothes that were already soaked through with sweat. The estate guards watched him from afar, exchanging subtle, amused glances. To them, the fat, useless young lord was throwing another fleeting temper tantrum.
Lucien ignored their sneers. He had no energy left to care about their opinions.
He started to jog.
‘Thump. Thump. Thump.’
Each step reverberated through his ankles and knees, sending sharp spikes of pain straight up his spine. Within the first kilometer, his vision started to blur at the edges. His lungs screamed for oxygen, and his throat felt like he was swallowing sand.
‘3 km...’
‘4 km...’
"Just... one more... step..." he wheezed, his vision darkening. He felt like throwing up, his stomach churning violently. Pain radiated from every nerve ending in his body. In his past life, he had felt emotional agony, but this pure, unadulterated physical hell was something else entirely.
‘Why am I doing this?’ a voice in his head whispered. ‘Just stop. Let the system punish you. It's easier.’
"No," Lucien forced the word out through cracked lips. "I am not... dying... again."
He pushed past the threshold of exhaustion, entering a state of absolute numbness. He couldn't feel his legs anymore; they moved purely on momentum and stubborn refusal to accept defeat.
‘9 km...’
‘9.9 km...’
With one final, desperate stride, Lucien crossed the imaginary finish line near the edge of the gardens and collapsed face-first onto the cool grass.
[ Ding! ]
[ Daily Quest: 'Foundation of the Sovereign' - COMPLETED]
> Push-ups:100/ 100
> Pull-ups: 100 / 100
> Squats: 100/ 100
> Plank: 3/ 3 minutes
> Run: 10 / 10 km
[ Calculating Rewards... ]
•Fatigue Removed.
•Stamina:+2
•Strength: +1
A soothing, warm wave of energy suddenly cascaded through Lucien's body, starting from his chest and spreading outward to his limbs. The agonizing burn in his muscles faded into a dull ache, the raw blisters on his hands closed up, and his ragged breathing steadied.
Lucien lay on his back, staring up at the blue sky, covered in sweat and grime, but breathing easily for the first time all day.
[it was only one day quest not done yet, you have to do everyday (•ˋ _ ˊ•)]
"Ya yes, Mam. "
Good to have someone talk to.. I smiled.
He raised his hand toward the sky and clenched it into a tight fist.
"One day down," he whispered, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I'll became stronger. "