The morning sun rose over Korvan's outer fields, its heat already mingling with the lingering warmth of the forge. The air shimmered faintly above the black soil where the hunters trained.
Hunnt arrived carrying a heavy wooden crate, each step thudding against the ground with a metallic clank. When he set it down, the dirt shook slightly.
Alder squinted. "That thing sounds like it wants to kill us."
Hunnt smirked. "Fifty kilos each. Training weights."
Kael groaned. "You're serious."
"Dead serious," Hunnt replied, wiping soot from his brow. "If you want to master Haki and survive another fight like Vulcarion Basal, you'll need to strengthen your body as much as your will."
He knelt, opening the crate to reveal three sets of bracers, greaves, and chest weights — their dull metal engraved with subtle runic lines for balance and endurance.
Before he could start distributing them, Seren stepped forward, her expression determined. "Hunnt," she said firmly.
Hunnt looked up. "What is it?"
"I want to experience it," she said.
Hunnt tilted his head. "Experience what?"
Seren met his eyes. "Your Conqueror's Haki."
For a moment, the entire field went still. Kael turned away immediately, pretending to examine his bowgun. Alder started whistling tunelessly and looking at the sky.
Hunnt slowly raised a brow. "Let me guess… these two told you?"
Seren folded her arms. "They didn't tell me. They just… talked too much."
Hunnt sighed deeply, glancing at Kael. "You didn't tell her, did you?"
Kael shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Define tell."
Alder coughed into his fist. "I might have… confirmed it by accident."
Hunnt exhaled through his nose, fighting back a grin. "You two really can't keep secrets."
Then his tone shifted, calm but serious. "Alright then, Seren. You want to experience it? Be ready. Don't fight it. Just feel it."
Seren's confidence flickered, but she nodded anyway. "I'm ready."
Hunnt closed his eyes. His breathing slowed.
Then the world seemed to stop breathing with him.
The air grew heavy — not from heat, but from presence.
A pulse rippled outward from Hunnt's body, invisible but crushing. Dust lifted from the ground in concentric waves. The grass bent, as though bowing before something unseen.
Kael's eyes widened slightly. Even after feeling it before, his chest tightened under the sheer pressure of will. Alder clenched his fists, bracing himself.
But Seren—
Her knees buckled almost instantly. Her shield dropped to the dirt. Sweat rolled down her forehead as her lungs struggled to draw breath.
It was like standing before a living storm — as if the sky itself had decided she wasn't worthy to stand.
To her, it felt exactly like the moment Vulcarion Basal had awakened — that same primal fear, that same suffocating heat — only worse. This wasn't a monster's rage. It was human. Directed. Dominant.
After five unbearable seconds, the weight vanished.
The air lightened. Birds cried again in the trees.
Seren collapsed to one knee, panting hard, drenched in sweat. Her vision spun.
Alder rubbed the back of his neck, still steady but uneasy. "Every damn time… it feels like the world stops existing."
Kael exhaled and straightened. "Still not used to it — but it didn't crush me this time."
Hunnt rolled his shoulders, the faint glimmer of energy fading from his eyes. "Good," he said simply. "That's what I wanted."
Alder frowned. "Wanted? What, to knock us around again?"
Hunnt shook his head. "No. To test something. The first time you both felt my Haki, you nearly blacked out, right?"
Kael nodded. "Nearly."
Hunnt gestured toward them. "But just now — you felt the pressure, but it didn't overwhelm you. That's because during the Vulcarion fight, you were exposed to the same kind of intensity for hours. Whether you realized it or not, you adapted. The fight tempered your spirit — made you immune to fear."
Alder blinked, realization dawning. "So… we built resistance?"
"Exactly," Hunnt said. "You weren't nervous facing that beast because you'd already been crushed by my Haki once before. That experience rewired how your bodies and minds react to pressure."
Kael chuckled softly. "So getting blasted by you was training all along."
Hunnt smirked. "You're welcome."
Meanwhile, Seren had regained her footing, still breathing heavily. "I felt like I was fighting Vulcarion Basal again," she said quietly, wiping sweat from her brow. "Only this time… the fear came from a person."
Hunnt nodded. "That's the essence of Conqueror's Haki. It's not meant to destroy. It's meant to command. The will to stand above."
Seren looked up at him, her eyes burning with new determination. "Then I'll make sure I can stand through it next time."
Hunnt smiled faintly. "Good answer."
He motioned toward the crate of gear. "Now that you've all had your taste of pressure, time for something heavier."
Kael groaned. "I'm afraid to ask."
Hunnt tossed a set of weights toward him. The ground thudded as they landed. "Fifty kilograms. Bracers, leggings, chestplate. You'll wear them every day — no breaks. They'll push your endurance and stamina until your Haki stops draining you."
Alder lifted his set and nearly dropped it. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Hunnt said. "But it works."
Seren adjusted hers carefully, the metal digging into her arms and legs. "Feels like carrying a small boulder."
"Then you'll fit right in," Hunnt said with a grin.
---
One Month Later — The Weight of Endurance
The days that followed blurred together — sunrise to sunset, sweat to exhaustion.
Every morning, the Wanderers trained under the blazing heat of Korvan's plains, each movement weighted, every breath fought for.
They ran laps through the cracked earth, leapt with Geppo against the burning wind, and sparred until their limbs screamed. Even Kael, normally sharp-tongued, stopped joking halfway through the first week.
Seren's shield strikes slowed under the weight, but her form grew tighter, steadier.
Alder learned to balance his heavy sword even with the bracers dragging his arms.
Kael, despite swearing every dawn, adapted his footing to move like a phantom again.
And Hunnt — ever the silent observer — trained beside them, but with twice the weight, his strikes shattering rocks and shaking the ground.
At night, they sat around a low campfire, too exhausted to talk. The air was filled with the rhythmic clink of metal and the slow, steady sound of their breathing.
By the fourth week, their movements no longer strained. The weights that once felt like shackles now moved as part of them.
Seren could leap with her lance again.
Kael's aim no longer faltered under pressure.
Alder's strikes carried both precision and control.
Hunnt watched their progress with a faint smile. "Good," he said quietly. "You're ready for the next step."
Kael groaned, dropping onto the ground. "Next step? What could possibly be worse than this?"
Hunnt smirked.