After the first twenty-four hours, it didn't take long for exhaustion to seep into Ethan's body and mind.
His sword felt strangely sluggish in his grip, and his aura responded in unnatural, broken pulses.
He needed time to adapt, dying several times in rapid succession. It wasn't until after the first seven days that something finally changed.
It was as if his mind had found a different rhythm.
He began to feel everything with clarity, from the precise path of his sword to the tension coiled in every muscle, down to the subtle way his aura answered the slightest flicker of his intent.
After the first month, the mental fatigue that had been building up simply vanished, dissipating like mist beneath the sun.
In the second month, he left the hell of endless combat behind and entered more elaborate simulation scenarios: sieges and ambushes, where he led much smaller forces on what amounted to suicidal missions.
