"Ack! Hey, are you sure this is how the warm-up's supposed to go? I'm pretty sure it wasn't like this before!"
Alessio was pressing my legs wider apart in what he claimed was a warm-up before training. It was more like a torture ritual disguised in the name of fitness. He looked completely serious—merciless, even.
"One more time. Hold still for a bit," he said, face stern and expression unforgiving.
'Damn, the training hasn't even properly started and my body's already aching...'
My face contorted as I whimpered inwardly.
"Alright, now you're all set."
"Ow, ow..."
I groaned, slumping slightly in place.
"You've done a bit of dagger and self-defense training before. But technique alone won't get you far without the strength to back it up," Alessio said, eyeing me with a smirk.
'Don't tell me...'
I forced a nervous smile, my face going pale—I already had a bad feeling about what was coming next.
"Start running. 15 laps."
"Wait—"
"Now. Go."