He had barely taken one step outside when someone suddenly called out to him.
“Orren!” He turned around and saw a boy around his age running toward him.
The boy stopped only an arm’s length away, slightly out of breath.
“Where were you yesterday?
Teacher Zane was quite mad because you skipped his class again.” Orren stared at him.
‘What the hell?
Was this body a troublemaker?’ It seemed the previous owner of this body already had a reputation.
“I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I couldn’t come.” It was a simple lie, but he had no better explanation.
The boy looked at him suspiciously for a moment, clearly not convinced, but he decided not to question it.
“Well, I hope Teacher Zane believes you.
Otherwise, forget having any peaceful time in the near future.” With that, he turned around and began walking away.
After taking a few steps, he noticed Orren was still standing there.
“What are you waiting for?
It’s almost time for class.
Hurry.” Orren quickly followed.
The boy led him through the settlement until they reached a wide-open area that looked like a training field.
Several boys and girls around his age were already gathered there.
‘More students.’ Orren looked around carefully, trying to absorb as much information as possible.
At the front of the group stood a bearded man with a stern expression.
His presence alone made the other students stand straighter.
‘That must be Teacher Zane.’ “Come on.” The boy gestured for Orren to hurry before joining the rows of students.
Orren followed and took his place.
“We will start with the usual.
Ten laps around the field.” Teacher Zane’s eyes moved toward him.
“Orren.
Twenty.” The moment those words left his mouth, some of the students laughed while others looked at Orren with pity.
Apparently, this was not the first time he had been punished.
Orren still did not fully understand the situation, and he did not want to make things worse by arguing or pretending he knew something he did not.
So, he simply started running.
One lap around the field was roughly four hundred meters, meaning twenty laps would be around eight kilometers.
‘Poor me.’ Fortunately, this body seemed to be in good physical condition.
Despite the distance, he was able to maintain a steady pace without struggling too much.
By the time he completed his tenth lap, the other students had already finished and gathered around Teacher Zane.
But Orren continued running.
While he ran, he watched the others begin their training.
The students had started pairing up and engaging in one-on-one combat.
By the time he finally finished his twentieth lap, his breathing had become heavy, but he did not stop to rest.
Instead, he immediately walked back toward Teacher Zane.
The moment he arrived, the teacher’s stern gaze fell upon him.
“Skip another day and it will be forty laps.” Orren simply nodded.
He had no intention of testing whether the man was serious.
Seeing that Orren understood, Teacher Zane gestured toward another student.
“Now it is your turn.” Orren immediately understood what he meant.
A spar.
However, after running eight kilometers, he was understandably exhausted.
“Can I rest for a moment?” The moment the words left his mouth, the entire area became quiet.
Teacher Zane stared at him.
Orren felt a chill run down his spine.
He immediately understood the answer.
Without another word, he turned back toward his opponent.
‘Fuck my life.’ He took a stance.
Although he had not been a professional fighter in his previous life, he had trained in combat as a hobby for several years.
He knew the basics, and considering his opponent was still a child, he should have a significant advantage.
“Ready?” The boy in front of him asked.
Orren nodded and raised his fists into a boxing stance.
The boy rushed forward and threw a straight right punch.
Orren calmly stepped aside, ducking underneath the attack.
At the same time, he planted his left foot forward and drove a powerful hook into the boy’s liver.
The boy let out a painful grunt and immediately collapsed, clutching his side.
Teacher Zane raised an eyebrow.
After a moment of observation, he gestured toward another student.
“Again.” And so began Orren’s suffering.
The first few matches were easy.
His experience and understanding of combat allowed him to defeat his opponents quickly.
However, the more he won, the more students Teacher Zane sent against him.
After the fifth or sixth match, exhaustion began catching up to him.
His body was still that of a child, and no amount of previous experience could completely overcome physical limitations.
Eventually, he began losing.
But Teacher Zane showed no intention of stopping.
One opponent became another.
Another became another.
By the time Orren had fought ten matches, his entire body was exhausted.
And he finally began to understand exactly what kind of teacher Zane was.
Orren lay on the ground, taking deep breaths as he tried to recover.
His body was covered in faint bruises, and every muscle ached from the constant fighting.
Even though none of his injuries were serious, the exhaustion he felt was very real.
A shadow fell over him.
Teacher Zane walked over and looked down at him with his usual stern expression.
“Rest for five minutes, then get back on your feet.” Orren could only stare at him for a moment before accepting that arguing would achieve nothing.
Despite his harsh methods, Zane had made sure that Orren did not suffer any serious injuries during the sparring sessions.
The bruises and soreness would disappear within a day or two, but the training itself was clearly meant to push him beyond his limits.
Time passed quickly, and after roughly five minutes, Orren forced himself back up and returned to the others.
The rest of the training continued for hours.
Zane put them through a variety of exercises, from physical conditioning to combat drills.
By the time the lessons finally ended, every student was exhausted.
As the others began leaving, Zane stopped Orren.
“Stay behind.” Orren turned around and looked at him.
The teacher stared at him with the same strict expression he had shown all day.
“I know you are going to become a strong warrior.” His words surprised Orren slightly.
“You have always had a talent for combat, but do not let that talent get to your head.
Arrogance will not take you far in life.” There was a slight change in Zane’s expression as he continued.
The sternness remained, but there was something else beneath it.
“You have the talent, so use it wisely.
Work hard, improve yourself, and do not waste what you have been given.” After a short pause, he waved his hand dismissively.
“Now go.
And make sure you are on time tomorrow.” Orren nodded and left the training field.
‘Well, that was unexpected.’ He had not expected this from Zane.
The man appeared strict and harsh, but he clearly cared about his students.
‘Though he doesn’t know I’m not actually the Orren he remembers.’ The thought felt strange.
‘I mean, this is a trial created by the Nightmare Spell.
I don’t think I need to have some kind of identity crisis over it.
As far as this world is concerned, I am Orren.’ As he reached the exit, he noticed the boy who had approached him earlier waiting nearby.
His name was Bran.
Orren had learned it while training with the other students.
The moment Bran saw him, his face lit up and he quickly walked over.
“Since when did you get this good?” He looked genuinely impressed.
“I mean, you were already pretty good, but eight consecutive wins?
That’s insane.” Before Orren could respond, Bran continued speaking.
“Is it because you go hunting?
I knew it!
I’ve asked my mom so many times if I could go hunting, but she always refuses.
She won’t even let me go near the boundaries of the forest.” Orren listened quietly as Bran continued rambling.
The boy was clearly energetic and talkative, but his constant stream of words also gave Orren a lot of useful information.
‘So this body is an orphan.’ That explained a few things.
‘It also makes sense that I would hunt my own food, but I didn’t find any hunting equipment in my hut.’ After walking together for some distance, the two eventually separated.
Orren returned directly to his hut and immediately began searching through every corner.
If this body really was a hunter, then there had to be equipment somewhere.
After searching for several minutes, he finally found what he was looking for.
It had been hidden underneath his bed.
A spear.
A bow.
A quiver filled with arrows.
And several knives.
The equipment was not in perfect condition, but it was clearly well maintained.
Someone had taken good care of these tools.
‘Luckily, we were also taught the basics of using every weapon during training.
I should be able to improve my archery by learning from Teacher Zane.’ The more Orren thought about the training system, the more he realized how different this place was from a normal village.
Calling it an academy would not have been entirely wrong.
The students were taught everything they needed to survive.
Combat training in the morning.
Weapon practice.
Hunting techniques.
Lessons about the monsters living in the forest and their weaknesses.
It was not education meant to prepare children for ordinary lives.
It was preparation for survival.
‘Though something still doesn’t make sense.’ Orren sat down and thought carefully.
‘If my trial is related to the battle I saw, which seems to happen about a year from now, then why did the Nightmare Spell send me here so far back?’ He could not find an answer.
Perhaps there was some hidden reason.
Perhaps the time he spent here was part of the trial itself.
Either way, one thing was clear.
‘I have a lot of time to prepare.’ His eyes narrowed.
‘And my final evaluation will probably depend heavily on what I accomplish during this period.’ There was no point wasting time worrying about things he could not understand yet.
“Let’s figure everything out step by step.” He looked around the hut.
“But first, I need something to eat.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Lost_01 Have some idea about my story?
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