The morning sun spilled over Ravenshire, washing the training grounds in golden light. The smell of damp earth lingered from the night's dew, and a light breeze carried the distant sound of axes striking wood.
Corwin dragged himself into the clearing, sweat already beading on his brow though the day had just begun. His arms and legs still ached from yesterday's drills, but Hunnt and Pyro were already waiting—Hunnt limbering his arms with practiced stretches, Pyro crouched low with tail flicking, golden eyes sharp and restless.
"Ready?" Hunnt asked, his tone calm but firm, testing.
Corwin tightened his grip on his hammer. His knuckles whitened against the handle. "Yeah… I think so."
Hunnt gave the faintest smile. Good. Let's see how far you can push yourself today.
"Ten laps around the perimeter," Hunnt ordered, pointing. "Keep your rhythm. Pyro, make sure he doesn't slack."
Pyro gave a short "nyaah" and darted off like a streak of shadow.
Corwin groaned but obeyed. His first few strides were heavy and uneven, each breath ragged. Hunnt kept pace beside him, his small frame moving with effortless rhythm. "Straighten your back. Breathe through your nose, not your mouth. Push off the ground, don't drag your feet."
Every few steps, Pyro cut across Corwin's path, swiping lightly at his shins with a paw or nudging his side to keep him upright. Corwin stumbled more than once.
"Hey! That's cheating!" he snapped, nearly tripping.
Nyaah… focus, human… the enemy won't wait for you to recover… Pyro thought, tail lashing.
By the fifth lap, Corwin's shirt clung to his skin, soaked in sweat. His lungs burned with every breath, but he kept running. His pace faltered, yet his feet refused to stop.
Hunnt clapped his shoulder mid-stride. "Endurance isn't about speed. It's persistence. The body will scream to quit—but you don't listen. That's where real strength begins."
When the laps ended, Corwin collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving. But Hunnt wasn't finished.
"Get up. Now we build strength."
Weighted logs, sacks of stone, and climbing posts waited at the far side of the training field. Hunnt demonstrated, lifting a heavy sack and balancing it across his shoulders as though it weighed nothing. "Your hammer is only as strong as your core. Build it here, and you'll swing it longer, harder, without collapsing."
Corwin grit his teeth, hefting the log Hunnt indicated. The weight nearly toppled him at first. His muscles trembled violently, arms burning, back straining. Pyro leapt onto the log's edge, forcing Corwin to rebalance or collapse.
"Better!" Hunnt barked. "Brace your legs, not your arms. Power comes from here!" He tapped his own stomach.
Corwin shifted, planting his feet wider, and the weight steadied just enough. Sweat poured into his eyes, blurring his vision. Pyro swiped lightly at his thigh, testing his balance. This time, Corwin didn't stumble.
Hours blurred into drills. Running with sacks, climbing posts, pushing logs uphill. Each task shredded Corwin's strength until his arms trembled with every motion.
Then came the reflex exercise. Hunnt nodded to Pyro. "Now."
The Felyne lunged, Wooden Sword flashing. Corwin raised his hammer too late—barely catching the strike before Pyro darted away and struck again. The rhythm quickened, forcing Corwin to react instead of think. His chest heaved, sweat flying, frustration building.
"Don't chase his movements!" Hunnt shouted. "Anticipate them! Look at his shoulders, not his weapon! The body moves before the strike!"
Corwin flinched again, a hair too slow. The hammer's weight nearly pulled him forward. He clenched his teeth, muttering through gasps, "I… I can do this… I'll keep going…"
Pyro landed, crouched low, tail swaying. Nyaah… not hopeless… slow, but learning… if he survives this, he might be worth it…
By late afternoon, Corwin dropped to his knees, body wracked with exhaustion. His hammer slipped from his hands, landing with a dull thud.
Hunnt crouched beside him, voice low but steady. "See? You're stronger than you think. This isn't about being fearless, Corwin. It's about refusing to stop, no matter what's in front of you. You held on. That matters."
Corwin looked up, sweat dripping from his jaw, but a small smile tugged at his lips. For the first time, he didn't feel useless.
Pyro hopped onto a stump nearby, giving a short purr. His soft "nyaah" sounded ordinary to any other villager—but to Hunnt, it was clear approval.
Hunnt studied them both, arms folded. If he keeps this up, Corwin will be ready for fist-style training soon. And Pyro… he's already teaching him more than I am, whether Corwin realizes it or not.
The three stood in the fading light, battered and weary, yet grounded by the same unspoken determination. The path ahead would be long—but the foundation had finally been laid.
"Tomorrow," Hunnt said, brushing the dirt from his palms, "we test agility. And your first steps into fist style, Corwin. Slow, precise. No shortcuts."
Corwin nodded, chest still heaving. "I'll do my best."
Pyro's tail flicked once. Nyaah… let's see if your best is enough, human.