Weighted Gear and Brutal Goals
Two weeks had passed since I started the additional strength training. The changes were immediate. The number of plates I could load onto the barbell had increased. They were the smallest unit plates, but as chunks of iron, they were far from light. Yet, managing to add weight in such a short time was a phenomenon that defied the common sense of my previous life. My muscles were growing at an unnaturally fast rate. It seemed aura directly influenced the recovery and growth of muscle fibers as well.
Seeing tangible results sparked my greed. Strength alone wasn't enough. Cardiorespiratory endurance and muscular endurance were entirely different domains. The power to lift something heavy once was worlds apart from the power to carry heavy loads and move with them for extended periods. Building muscle like a bodybuilder might give explosive short-term power, but oversized muscles could reduce energy efficiency, leading to poor endurance. Sure, coating myself in aura let me move without tiring. But the fact remained: subpar physical conditioning increased aura consumption proportionally.
Situations like wearing full plate armor all day or hauling heavy gear over long distances without a horse could arise anytime. If my body could handle it, I'd minimize aura drain. Barefoot sprints no longer provided enough load for my superhuman physique. I had to change my training methods. Digging into memories from my past life, I decided to create new training tools. The first things that came to mind were weighted vests and limb wraps.
I stopped by the forge and ordered flat, small lead plates suitable for stuffing into vests and wraps. Back at the manor, I called for Clay.
"Clay, I've got a favor to ask."
"Yes, young master! Just say the word!"
Clay had fully adapted to manor life and brimmed with energy. I sketched a rough design on a wooden board and explained.
"Make a sturdy vest and wraps out of tough fabric. These lead plates go into the pockets here. Add pockets to the arm and leg wraps too."
The structure was simple, but the stitching had to be meticulous to withstand the weight. Clay, with her deft hands, understood perfectly and nodded.
A few days later, I received the finished products. They looked far more professional than I'd expected. The weighted vest came in at about 15kg, arm wraps 2kg each, and leg wraps 3kg each. Wearing everything added a total of 25kg to my body— heavier than a fully equipped standard armor set, even surpassing most full plate harnesses. Running in this should mimic moving in actual armor.
But that wasn't enough. I prepared two more tools. One was the tires that American football players or fighters in my past life dragged for training. No waste tires of varying sizes here, so I commissioned a substitute: a sturdy wooden sled from the carpenter. More like a wooden pallet, really, with cast iron plates reinforcing the base for durability. It had a box on top for weight plates and attachment points for thick ropes. Loading it with my pre-made plates allowed easy weight adjustments.
The other was a backpack frame inspired by military ruck marches, with a compartment for stacking weight plates. I'd use it later when the vest and wraps no longer sufficed.
"Alright, time to test them."
I slipped on the weighted vest and strapped the wraps to my limbs. The heavy pressure bore down on my shoulders and appendages. But with my aura reservoirs full, movement was unimpeded. I headed to the training ground and loaded the wooden sled with plates. I secured the rope around my upper body like a horse's yoke.
The goal was to deplete my aura quickly early in the session. High-weight lifts risked death if aura cut out mid-rep, but sled drags were safe—you just stopped if aura ran dry.
"Hup!"
I tensed my core and kicked off the dirt ground. Drag, drrrag—! The sled's iron base scraped loudly against the earth. Heavy resistance transmitted through the rope. The first few steps were awkward and stumbling, but I quickly adapted, lowering my center of gravity and surging forward.
Looping the open field in a circle caused the sled to veer sideways. I switched to short straight-line shuttles. After a few tweaks, I had a smooth rhythm, dragging the sled relentlessly. My aura-enhanced leg muscles exploded with power. But it didn't last.
"Ugh."
Less than two minutes in, my aura supply snapped off. Faster depletion than anticipated. Laden with gear and towing the heavy sled, my aura evaporated in seconds. The moment it vanished, my body felt waterlogged, impossibly heavy. Exhausted muscles couldn't handle the load. I hurried to the sled, unloading plates until only a manageable weight remained for my bare body. Gripping the rope again, I started walking.
"Hoo, haa... haa..."
Breath surged to my throat instantly. Each step was torture. My body and legs burned like fire, head spinning from oxygen deprivation. This was leagues beyond briefly hoisting heavy weights. In under five minutes, I collapsed in the middle of the training ground. Sweat slicked my entire body, gleaming. The sky looked yellow, nausea rising. Far tougher than barbell work.
Why am I putting myself through this? Just save enough money and live comfortably— isn't that enough? Do I really need to go this far?
Imagining a lifetime of this darkened my vision. Suppressing the urge to vomit, I flopped flat on the ground. Lying spread-eagled, I felt my depleted aura slowly refilling. As my body eased faintly, my foggy mind cleared. I steeled myself.
This wasn't a modern society with guaranteed safety. Beyond the village, ambushes by all sorts of beasts were daily life in the wilds. Only overwhelming strength ensured survival. For the comfortable retirement I dreamed of, I needed the raw power to smash the skulls of anyone eyeing my life or wealth. No quitting now.
"...Sigh."
A sigh escaped despite myself. Even knowing it was necessary, endless grueling training daunted me.
I need goals.
Vague "train till exhaustion" killed motivation. I needed concrete, measurable targets: "Just this much, then rest!" Achieving them would let me dial back to maintenance. Setting that line would force me to move.
After some thought, I set benchmarks based on fully depleted aura, bare-body state. For the big three—squat, bench press, deadlift—total 500kg. That familiar number from past-life gym rats. Pure strength hitting 500kg without aura meant unimaginable destruction with it. I could raise the bar later if needed.
For sled drags: maximum load I could tow, nonstop for 30 minutes, aura depleted. Brutal intensity, but survival demanded it. Once I left the manor as an adult and resettled, such training would be impossible. Do it while I could.
Are the goals too high? The thought crept in, but past-life mortals hit 500kg big three sans aura. With aura accelerating recovery and growth, I'd surpass them easily. Performing at that level without aura meant crushing average knights with raw physique even in aura-starved crises.
I sprang to my feet.
"Hoo... again."
I hadn't hit five minutes, let alone thirty. Couldn't do it in one go, but I'd fill the volume. I rewrapped the rope. Just thirty minutes, then quit. Gritting my teeth, I dragged the sled anew.
Drag, drrrag—! The scrape of iron on dirt echoed across the training ground once more.