I stood in the middle of the training hall, my chest heaving as I stared at another broken sword in my hand. The room was quiet, except for my own ragged breathing. The three days were almost over.
We had pushed straight through, and my whole body felt like lead. While Roan and the others were out in the Magic City, learning from the best teachers, I was stuck in this room, grinding myself into the ground.
Normal people would have collapsed on the first night. But my bloodline was the only reason I was still standing.
It was a painful cycle: Morgana's wooden sword would slam into my ribs, cracking bone and leaving deep bruises, only for my healing to kick in seconds later to fix the damage.
My mana channels would burn from holding the Soul Flame, but my Energy Siphon would pull in the heat from Seren's fires and turn it back into power to keep me going. My body was adapting, remembering the pain, and rebuilding itself stronger.
