Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: I Trained Way Too Hard
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Airen greeted the next day on trembling legs.
"Urgh..."
He had resolved to tail Ision no matter what today.
He knew Ision rose every day at dawn.
That was why he had forced himself up at dawn.
'I usually have to get up early anyway.'
Trying to wake even earlier had been pure agony.
But he endured somehow, splashing cold water on his face to shake off the sleep.
Stepping outside, he saw the dawn tinged with blue.
It was sleepy, sure, but the crisp air in that unique freshness wasn't half bad.
A good feeling washed over him.
The kind of feeling that said he'd definitely uncover Ision's training secret.
Once he knew the trick, things would surely turn around again.
Ision would end up beneath his feet once more, just like always.
It was then that Airen clenched his fists tight.
Creeeak—
Ision's door swung open.
He stepped out and immediately headed somewhere.
Airen followed without hesitation.
A short while later, Ision arrived at the highest point in the training grounds.
A precarious tower without railings.
Was he doing some kind of fall training from here?
Airen had no confidence in mimicking that, and his eyes shook wildly.
But soon enough, he realized that wasn't it.
Ision had sat at the spot without railings and was quietly praying.
For a full hour, without moving a muscle, just praying.
What the heck.
Getting up at this hour just to pray?
Airen had never heard Ision called a devout believer.
Which made his actions completely baffling.
'Could it be.'
Was Ision's sudden strength from some divine power?
As questions swirled in his head, Ision finished praying and stood.
Airen hurriedly hid and resumed tailing him.
Ision began his morning run.
Morning runs were standard for all trainees.
Nothing new there.
So it was hardly the path to getting stronger.
After running for quite a while, Ision wrapped it up and headed for breakfast.
The earliest breakfast of anyone.
Morning prayer followed by a run.
The healthy routine of a devout believer.
Airen deeply questioned why he'd bothered getting up early today.
That's when his eyes caught the spot where Ision had run.
Footprints remained there.
Sandy ground.
Footprints weren't unusual.
Except they were sunk excessively deep into the sand.
Airen absentmindedly matched his foot to one.
His entire shoe sank deep into the depression.
Like the mark of some massive beast with immense weight.
"......What the hell."
What.
What had he done?
No matter how hard you stomped sand, you couldn't leave prints this deep.
Not unless you were carrying an insane load.
'......Weight?'
The questions chained together until a sudden thought made Airen look up.
The simple way to add weight.
Airen knew the method too.
'You could infuse aura over your whole body as weight, but.'
Ision didn't seem to have any tools for extra weight.
Which made it even more incomprehensible.
Doing this meant bearing double the weight purely with your body.
On top of that, both Airen and Ision were merely at the aura resonance stage.
Aura control was unstable since they could barely sense it on purpose.
Essentially, it meant raw aura output with no finesse.
Aura consumption would skyrocket, and the bodily strain would multiply dozens of times.
Physical exhaustion, aura depletion.
Both at once—it made his head spin just thinking about it.
A few runs would ruin your whole day.
Yet Airen had felt Ision's power change drastically lately.
Enough to hold his own against Macdram, even.
And his aura purity was improving too.
Ision's aura grew purer by the day.
From mere resonance—sensing aura—to heading toward circulation.
Both body and aura growing this fast in such a short time defied understanding.
So Airen had vaguely assumed there was some secret trick.
"......This is the secret?"
This wasn't a secret.
It was ascetic self-destruction.
And one more chilling detail.
The footprints were all spaced evenly, identical.
How many laps had Ision run here?
At least ten, probably.
Yet not a single print was off, no waver whatsoever.
A chill ran down his spine—
Maintaining perfect focus while draining aura and body simultaneously, without a single slip?
Was this even humanly possible?
And Ision did it all as if it were natural.
Proof he trained like this every day.
Airen stared blankly at the footprints.
Then, as if entranced, he resumed tailing Ision.
Ision performed morning and afternoon training exactly like everyone else.
His intensity had risen lately after catching Macdram's eye, but nothing special.
Soon it was evening.
While the training ground kids lay collapsed in their rooms from exhaustion.
Ision alone stepped out and swung his sword.
Aura wasn't visible in the morning, but now that he noticed, it was there.
A thin layer visible to the eye, yet imposing massive strain on his body.
Even so, Ision kept swinging.
Muscles tore and mended, his body tempering relentlessly.
Airen muttered from afar, watching.
"No secret after all."
Just pure, harder training than anyone else.
At an intensity incomparable to others.
Ision was growing through steady effort.
Airen realized that after shadowing him all day.
Meanwhile, what about him?
He'd trained as usual, progressed as usual.
'Training the same as always.'
How could he get stronger?
He shook his head to clear it.
Realized how dull he'd been.
The naive belief that everything had some shortcut secret.
Today, Airen learned that was wrong.
'I'll do it too.'
Train just like Ision and get strong.
At 8 years old, still an age to trust only what he saw.
Airen believed what his eyes confirmed and left the training ground.
A few minutes after Airen left.
Ision's eyes shifted, mid-sword swing.
Finally gone, huh.
Tailed him all day and now seemed satisfied.
Ision stopped his swing and rolled his shoulders lightly.
Looks like he'd followed out of curiosity about the rapid growth.
Who knows if he got anything out of it.
Rummaging in his pocket, a small candy-like thing emerged.
Ision popped it into his mouth without hesitation.
The candy melted smoothly.
His expression eased just as smoothly.
"Phew, feels like I'm alive again. Couldn't even take my special recovery med all day with him tagging along."
The Lady known as the Witch of Reverse Heaven.
To follow her, he had to amass all sorts of knowledge.
His swordsmanship talent alone wasn't enough to keep up.
Without shortcuts, even shadowing her would be a struggle.
So Ision piled up miscellaneous knowledge.
A hefty chunk was formulas for spirit medicines that boosted training efficiency.
If talent falls short, you fill it with whatever it takes.
One such was the myriad formulas not yet known in this era.
Ision used them to brew the max potency meds possible now.
Not ideal, limited by available ingredients.
But they still worked.
Like this brutal training method, offset by special recovery meds for fatigue.
'The sweetest part of my day.'
Couldn't enjoy it with Airen around all day.
The Exclusive Knight training ground banned food outside meals.
Airen would've tattled to the commander nine times out of ten on sight.
Good thing he left before room time, or he'd have missed his dose.
Airen at 8, trusting only his eyes.
He'd have wailed and beat the ground if he knew.
Crunch—
Ision crunched and swallowed the candy, eyes flashing.
Even spirit meds had side effects with constant use, but it was fine.
This training accounted for that.
No shortcuts in this world.
Even with all knowledge and past strength, building from scratch took time.
Of course, prior work sped it up.
Like a gym trainer regressing—not instant peak body, but better than before for sure.
"Alright, let's break myself to the limit again today."
Time is gold.
No wasting a single day.
Until meeting the Lady, he'd grind to get strong.
Time flies like an arrow.
A year since regression already.
Ision was now 9.
Before him, Airen blocked his sword.
'This damn talented bastard.'
Ision couldn't swallow his sigh watching Airen.
After seeing his training, Airen mimicked it exactly.
Naturally, Airen collapsed for days.
Raw training like that? Bound to bedrest.
But Airen didn't quit.
Fall, recover, train; fall, recover, train.
Eventually, he started keeping up.
Results came quick.
Airen had always stood out among the kids.
But soon, an uncrossable gap yawned between him and the others.
As a result, Macdram personally guided him more.
Sparring sessions with Ision increased too, like today.
Ision rediscovered how crucial talent was.
Follow that insane training raw and actually get strong? Unbelievable.
No wonder he was the Azure Sea Knight and a sub-male lead candidate.
Clang!
Of course, Airen's crude training paled next to Ision's.
Ision knew thorough methods from past loops.
Airen's sword bounced away, embedding in the ground.
His hands bore thick calluses from daily training.
"I lose."
Airen's eyes gazed up at Ision, burning.
A vow to surpass him someday.
First loss showed frustration.
Now, it even held admiration.
'Who asked you to make me your rival.'
The real rival? Hadn't even met yet.
Wrong guy picked.
"Ision, Airen. Training ends here for today."
As he lightly loosened his shoulders, Training Commander Macdram approached.
"Someone's coming to see you two today."
Someone coming to see us.
Ision's expression changed at those words.
It's here.
Retainers from noble families scouting Exclusive Knight candidates for next year.
Today, he had to catch the Lady's family's eye.
Wait for me, Lady.
Your Exclusive Knight is coming!
"Hey, take Ision, clean him up thoroughly, and dress him in his best new clothes."
Huh?
What's with this excessive treatment?
Maids from the training grounds approached at Macdram's order.
Not one or two—ten of them.
Making a good impression on nobles meant tidying up, sure, but this was overkill.
"Uh, Training Commander, who am I meeting exactly?"
Bad premonition.
Really bad.
And when the commander spoke, Ision's eyes shook wildly.
"Prepare impeccably. The one you'll meet is of noble blood—His Highness the First Prince."
Ah, shit.