The 49th Day - Strength Training

"Ugh, I can't believe I failed that."

Rumble, rumble. Wilson, having slipped from my grasp, rolled down the slope toward the ground. This was the second floor, which I’d dubbed the "Obstacle Course." I’d barely made it halfway through before the trial began. Two fallen trees blocked the path, forcing me to navigate an S-shaped route with precision. The difficulty here is just absurd. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve let Wilson slip.

Is the incline too steep? Is there a hidden bump in the middle? Regardless, I always lose my grip at the exact same spot.

: ) ( : : ) ( :

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Wilson tumbled away. He gained speed, his face blurring past me in an instant. "Wilson, wait!" I scrambled after him, but he was far faster than I could ever be. I’d started to develop a bit of a knack for when he fell; if I sprinted down within ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three seconds of the angle shifting, I could usually catch him. But if I didn't secure him within five meters of the initial slip, his momentum would inevitably outpace my running speed. At that point, there was nothing I could do. All that was left was prayer.

"Wilson, please! Just stop there!"

At the start of the second floor, on the left, stood a massive wooden stake meant for propping Wilson up. It took up about a third of the slope; if Wilson settled there, he would stop. But if, by some stroke of bad luck, he veered to the other side? The first floor was a straight, obstacle-free highway, meaning he’d roll all the way back to the starting point, forcing me to begin from scratch.

"WILSON!!"

I screamed until my throat burned, but it was no use. Whoosh. Wilson vanished into the distance in the blink of an eye.

"Haa..."

My head dropped of its own accord. I let out a sigh and trudged back down the slope I’d worked so hard to climb. Without Wilson, I couldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠climb the slope alone; the magical gravity only permitted me to go down. When I returned to the starting altar, Wilson was waiting for me, his back turned. Look at this guy.

"Hey, why are you sulking? Sure, I didn't apply the right force, but who’s more frustrated here? You can't just give me the silent treatment."

I turned his shoulders around, and—well, look at that.

' '

He had that look on his face: I'm too tired to care, do whatever you want.

"I'm frustrated too! Do you think I wanted to be born without a silver spoon? Who likes having a body this weak? I want to be like the heroes, with a physique that’s absolutely shredded. Imagine if I had muscles like that—I could just tap you and you’d roll exactly where I wanted."

' '

It was useless to blame Wilson. I knew it, too. The reason I kept failing at the same spot was obvious.

"It's because I lack the strength."

I rested my forehead against Wilson and closed my eyes. A memory surfaced—something someone had once told me.

"Someday, you will face a trial that wisdom alone cannot overcome. When that time comes, the only things you can trust are your own limbs."

The person who gave me that advice was Penthesilea. The Queen of the Amazons, a hero stronger than anyone else, and the first woman I could truly call my master.

"Hoho, Sisyphus. What have you built this time?"

"Ah, this machine? I’ve named it a waterwheel."

"A waterwheel?"

"Yes. Water is always falling in this stream. By converting that force into rotational energy, we can grind flour, and if we add the right attachments, we can even automate the looms."

"My, how on earth did you come up with such a machine? Did Hephaestus visit you in your dreams? It’s hard to believe you’re only nine years old."

I’d heard that I was wise since I was a child. I’d made many inventions to help with farming, and my father praised me every time. Clea sometimes helped with the designs, but the ideas were mostly mine. That was why my older brother, Salmoneus, was often jealous.

Intellectual work suited me, and I became increasingly immersed in it. Unlike Clea, who was always running through the fields, I spent my teenage years buried in books.

"Excuse me, Lord. My neighbor planted crops on my land and grew them—aren't they mine?"

"Lord, the recent floods have changed the terrain, making it hard to cross to the west. How should we build a bridge?"

"The wagon wheels keep breaking too quickly."

Whenever the villagers brought their troubles to us, my father’s answer was always the same: "Ask Sisyphus."

Miraculously, I was able to solve all their problems. Using my wisdom was enjoyable.

"Indeed, I never knew such a method existed."

"It was a good idea to ask the young master."

"Thank you. You’ve saved us."

Thinking back, perhaps it was because I was a reincarnator, and memories of modern civilization surfaced like déjà vu. Thanks to that, our territory developed rapidly. With advanced technology, the villagers were motivated. Even after that monster raid, we were able to stand back up.

But Corinth didn't revive solely through the efforts of me—the new lord—and the villagers. We had the help of heroes.

"The subjugation is finished."

After my mother’s funeral, having inherited the lordship and moved down to the polis, I met a hero. Slim limbs, a sharp jawline, wide eyes. Her flowing blue hair clearly marked her as an extraordinary being. Above all, her ears were long and pointed. That was my first encounter with the Amazons, the mysterious warrior race said to live hidden deep in the forests.

"Are you the lord? I heard you have seven children, but you look so young."

When I explained the situation, she nodded lightly.

"A common tragedy. My condolences. Now, please stamp the seal. I need to report the completion of the mission to the guild, so the lord’s approval is required."

The hero handed me a piece of parchment. I don't know what I was thinking, but I didn't accept her request. Of course, the monsters had been subjugated. It hadn't been an easy mission. The heroes had received their mandate, run a long distance, and fought a desperate battle for days. The Amazon’s face was covered in soot.

But the state of our territory behind the hero was even more devastating. Sensing that we would need them to restore the land, I tucked the seal into my pocket, ignoring my fear.

"You, what are you doing?"

"I cannot stamp the seal."

"What did you say?"

The Amazon was holding a massive axe that didn't match her slender frame. I swallowed hard, hoping she wouldn't notice my tension, and spoke to her.

"The mission the hero received was to 'defend the territory of Corinth from threats,' was it not?"

"That's right. And we subjugated the monsters that were the threat."

"The threat is not yet over. The wounds left by the monsters will continue to plague the city. Seeds will not sprout in scorched earth, and once the houses and tools are broken, the residents will go hungry."

I looked straight into her lake-blue eyes and said,

"If you help restore the territory, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will stamp the seal then. Isn't it a virtuous act for a great hero to help citizens in distress for the sake of honor?"

"Oh?"

The hero approached me and bowed her head. At a distance where our foreheads almost touched, she asked,

"What is your name, little lord?"

"I am Sisyphus, son of Aeolus."

"Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons. What would you like me to help with?"

She gave off such an extraordinary aura, I never imagined she’d be the queen. But I couldn't take back what I’d said, so I decided to go all in.

"I would like you to start by repairing the waterwheel."

Where I pointed, a massive waterwheel over 20 meters in diameter had collapsed from its axis. Having been improved and developed over time, it was the core facility for flour production and waterway management.

"...What is this?"

The Amazon examined the waterwheel for a long time before tilting her head. She must have never seen one in other poleis. I explained the principle, and only then did her mouth form an 'O'.

"Who developed this? The blacksmith god Hephaestus?"

"I made it myself."

"Oh?"

"If you need to, please use this lever. Using the principle of leverage will save you effort."

"...Amazing. To think a treasure was sleeping in a backwater village like this."

"I don't have any treasures to give you as an additional reward right now. I ask for your understanding."

"Right, you wouldn't have any for now."

Fortunately, the negotiation went well. The displeasure had vanished from Penthesilea’s face, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠replaced by curiosity. As it turned out, she was a hero among heroes. The guild graded heroes from Delta (D) to Alpha (A), and designated those of immeasurable strength as a special grade called Sigma (S); Penthesilea was a Sigma-grade hero. Since heroes value honor, it would have been difficult for her to refuse my proposal. Without my approval, the mission she’d worked so hard to complete would have been in vain. It was a bit underhanded, but it was the best for the territory.

"Sisyphus, what other inventions do you have?"

But for some reason, this Amazon queen liked something about me, and even after the restoration work was finished and she received the seal, she stayed in our territory for a long time. By the time a year had passed, I was calling her "Pente."

Pente was strong. Her physical strength, her stamina—her raw physical power was immense. Thanks to her, Corinth was restored to its original state, and we were able to dig several more waterways and build a public hall.

"Don't you ever think of becoming a hero, Sisyphus?"

During the harvest festival the year after the bumper crop, she asked, resting her chin on the top of my head.

"How could an ordinary human like me become a hero? I can't even lift your axe with both hands."

"But you're friends with me, the one who carries that axe."

She called me a friend, but Pente was my master. During the time I spent with her, I learned many things. Since my mother was gone and I had stopped speaking to Clea, my interactions with her, a hero, were a great help.

"Your wisdom and your tongue are weapons that no one else possesses, Sisyphus."

"I am aware. Even you were swayed by my silver tongue, Pente."

"You child, what if someone hears you?"

"What about it?"

Tap. For some reason, Pente flicked my forehead. She might have thought it was a light tap, but it really, really hurt.

"Someday, you will face a trial that wisdom alone cannot overcome."

"...I suppose so."

"When that time comes, the only things you can trust are your own limbs. So..."

As if covering the wound on my forehead where she’d flicked me, Penthesilea left a light kiss. Was that an Amazonian farewell?

"Next time?"

"Yes. If I stay here any longer, I feel like you'll grow taller than me."

Following the duty of a hero who wanders and adventures, Pente left Corinth the next day.

"Simply put, Pente was nagging me to exercise. And I hadn't been listening to her until now."

: )

Whether she found my story worth listening to, Wilson had crept over and was beaming at me.

"I can't just keep bumping into things like a fool."

I need strength. Let's build up my muscles. I looked around and found the perfect thing: vines. The plants here were so tough that if you twisted a few layers together, you could use them to tie a ship. They were long and perfect for use as rope.

I wove the vines into a net to secure Wilson, and hooked the rope part to a high pillar on the altar. I tied the rest to my body. A makeshift gym was complete. Now, I could add resistance to my body using Wilson’s weight while I exercised.

"Alright."

I took my position and set my stance. I stood with my feet shoulder-width apart and slowly lowered my hips.

"Hup."

Squats, start.