The morning sun spilled across Ravenshire, gilding rooftops and trees in warm gold. Birds sang in the distance, though in the training grounds, the air held a heavier, almost suffocating tension. Today wasn't just another session of drills or mock combat. Today was the beginning of something new — something brutal.
Hunnt stood at the center of the field, arms folded, eyes sharp. Beside him rested a neatly arranged row of iron-gray plates and straps: the weighted clothing he had spent sleepless nights forging and adjusting from Ravagerak's scraps. Arms, legs, and chest pieces glinted faintly, almost menacing under the morning light.
He exhaled slowly, lifting his gaze to the others. Corwin leaned against his hammer, his tall frame relaxed but his jaw tight. Elara shifted uneasily, her bow hanging at her side, her hand brushing the quiver on her hip. Pyro crouched on a wooden post, tail swishing with suspicion, golden eyes fixed on the strange gear.
Hunnt broke the silence. "Alright… everyone. Today, we start weighted training. These will push us past what we think is possible — faster reflexes, stronger stamina, sharper endurance. They'll prepare us for tougher monsters and for Haki. But it's not going to be easy. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever."
His fists clenched at his sides, wrapped in fresh bandages. "We survive this, and we'll be hunters no monster will expect."
Corwin gave a short nod, resting his hammer across his shoulders. "Stronger foundations. Makes sense."
Elara eyed the glinting plates warily. "They don't… look that heavy."
Hunnt smirked faintly. "Wait until you wear them."
Pyro flicked his ear. "Nyahaha… I don't trust shiny things that look too simple, nyaah. Master, you sure these aren't cursed weights?"
"Not cursed," Hunnt said dryly. "Just heavy."
He began distributing the pieces. "Arms first. Then legs. Then chest. Take your time."
The moment the gear was strapped on, the air shifted. Corwin adjusted the iron-plated bracers around his forearms, and his face tightened immediately. Each arm weighed ten kilograms — manageable for a moment, but relentless over time. Elara fastened the leg straps, her knees almost buckling as the weight settled in. Hunnt secured his own set, the chest plate pressing against his ribs like a boulder.
Even Pyro wasn't spared. The tiny chest plate weighed ten kilograms, while each of his four legs carried five. He tottered for a moment, tail sticking up like a flagpole as he stumbled in a circle. "M-Master… I think these are heavier than me, nyaah!"
Hunnt hid his laugh behind a small grin. "Balance yourself. Breathe through it. That's the point."
He lifted his own arms — or tried to. His fists shook under the strain, his muscles screaming as though every fiber of his body resisted. He forced a deep breath, straightened his back, and took a single step forward. The ground felt like it was pulling him down, as if gravity itself had doubled.
Corwin swung his hammer experimentally. What should have been a simple motion left him nearly breathless, his shoulders trembling. "Tch… it feels like swinging with chains tied to me."
Elara tried drawing her bow. The string barely moved, her arms quivering as she forced the motion. She released, the arrow flying pitifully short, clattering in the grass only a few meters away. Her cheeks flushed in frustration.
"Master… nyaah! This is torture!" Pyro squeaked as he staggered, nearly tripping over his own weighted paws. He scrambled upright again, puffing his chest. "I-I'll do it anyway! Nyahaha!"
Hunnt steadied himself, speaking firmly. "Don't fight the weight. Control it. Make your body move the way you want, not the way it forces you to."
The first drills were simple — deceptively so. Walk in a straight line. Lift arms. Bend knees. Repeat. But under the crushing weight, each motion was agony. Every step felt like trudging through knee-deep mud, every lift like dragging chains. The forest that had once been an open playground of agility suddenly felt like a cage pressing down on their bodies.
Sweat poured within the first half hour. Corwin's hammer dragged slightly, his jaw clenched tight. Elara staggered through a bow-drawing motion, her shoulders shaking. Pyro puffed and panted, tail dragging on the dirt as he fought to keep his balance.
Hunnt's voice cut through their groans. "Posture! Don't let the weight hunch you over. Hold your core tight. Every second you keep proper form is a victory."
They pressed on.
By late morning, the drills escalated. Hunnt ordered them into squats, push-ups, and short sprints across the clearing. Corwin's legs trembled visibly as he forced his body down and up. Elara collapsed once, gritting her teeth and climbing back into stance. Pyro faceplanted during his second sprint, rolled, and somehow bounced back on his feet with a wheezy laugh.
"Nyahaha… see? I meant to do that, nyaah!"
Elara shot him a flat glare through her sweat-drenched bangs. "If you've got energy to joke, give me some of it."
Hunnt's arms burned like fire, but he didn't stop. He set the pace, forcing his own battered body to move despite every scream from his muscles. His knuckles throbbed beneath the bandages, but the weight was forcing him to grow tougher.
By midday, the team collapsed on the grass, chests heaving, drenched in sweat. Hunnt raised his head, still panting. "Short break. Drink water. Keep your arms moving lightly — don't stop completely."
Even resting, the weight pressed down on them, a constant reminder of its presence. Pyro flopped onto his back, paws twitching in the air. "Nyahaha… Master… this is cruel! Worse than Ravagerak, nyaah!"
Corwin leaned forward, breathing deeply, but nodded. "Necessary. We'll adjust. Day one is always the hardest."
Elara lay sprawled on the grass, arms outstretched, bow still clutched weakly in one hand. "I never… imagined moving could be this hard. Even breathing feels heavy…" Yet a small, tired smile curved her lips. "But… it's making me stronger. I can feel it."
Hunnt clenched his fists, forcing himself upright again. "That's the spirit. Rest's over. Back to work."
The afternoon was worse. They repeated their drills — strikes against padded logs, hammer arcs, arrow draws, evasive footwork. Every motion was agony, but slowly, they adapted. Hunnt's punches grew less shaky. Corwin's swings cut sharper lines. Elara's arrows began reaching the target again, even if slower. Pyro's dodges became steadier, his small body adjusting to the imbalance of his weights.
By sunset, the four of them collapsed in a heap of sweat, dirt, and exhaustion. The sky burned orange above them, shadows stretching long across the training ground.
Hunnt looked over his team, chest heaving. His lips curled into a faint grin. "We survived day one." His voice was hoarse, but triumphant. "It's going to hurt for days. But it'll make us stronger. Trust me."
Pyro curled up beside him, tail flicking tiredly. "Nyahaha… Master… this is brutal… but… nyaah… I think I like it."
Elara wiped her brow with a trembling arm, her exhaustion showing, yet her eyes gleamed faintly. "If this is only day one… I can't imagine day seven."
Corwin groaned, flexing his aching shoulders. "Day seven will feel like day one all over again. That's the point."
Hunnt's fists clenched tighter, the weight biting into his body as much as his resolve. His hands ached, his body screamed — but his mind was clear. Tomorrow, they would push further. Tomorrow, the weight would break them down, and in rebuilding, it would forge them into something stronger.
The forest around them whispered softly in the evening breeze, but inside the training ground, every heartbeat spoke of grit, pain, and determination. Day one was complete. The path to strength had begun.