Morning sunlight bled through the cabin walls. Nox sat up slowly, ribs aching. Juro was already awake, rubbing his face.
The door creaked open. Raizen stood there with an unreadable look, grey hair catching the light.
"Good. You're both awake," he said flatly. "Your bodies should be ripe enough for training."
Nox squinted. "Ripe? What are we, fruit?"
Raizen ignored him, stepping inside. "You already have Iora inside you. But to control it, your body has to be strong enough to handle it. Physical training is key."
"Iora…" Juro frowned. "You mean that weird energy thing?"
Raizen gave a small nod. "To harness Iora, you have to come in contact with it. You already did. Six days ago, when those horned beasts attacked. They're made purely of Iora and flesh woven together."
Juro's jaw tightened. "Is that why there were no corpses in the village?"
"Mostly ash," Raizen said. "That fire wasn't natural. And the necromancer who leads them doesn't need much flesh to make soldiers. Unless…" He paused, almost to himself. "…he's building an army."
"There were more or less three hundred people in that village," Juro snapped. "How does that make an army?"
Before Raizen could answer, Nox touched Juro's shoulder. His grip was firm.
"You went back?" he asked quietly, eyes narrowing.
Juro froze. Before he could respond, Raizen cut in sharply. "We're wasting time. Every second counts.
He tossed a heavy sack to the floor with a thud.
"These are weight pads," Raizen said. "Strap them to your arms and legs and start running."
Nox eyed the sack suspiciously. "Run where?"
"To the most uneven part of the forest," Raizen said, smirking faintly. "Keep running until you feel like passing out."
"That's it? Just run?" Nox raised an eyebrow. "Brilliant training plan."
Raizen stepped closer, his tone razor sharp. "From what juro told me, you've done physical training before. But this will be different. I want you to run until you hate yourself, and then run some more."
Juro muttered, "Yeah… this is gonna kill us."
"Better me than a Dreknar," Raizen replied dryly. "Now move."
The forest floor blurred under their feet, rocks, roots, uneven ground. They hopped, stumbled, and pushed through. Noon crept closer, sweat glued their shirts to their backs.
Five hours. No breaks. No food. Their ribs still ached from the last fight.
"W–wait… stop…" Juro's voice cracked as he grabbed a tree to steady himself. His chest heaved like a bellows. "I'm done. Five minutes, just five minutes."
He tried tugging the weight pads off his wrists. They didn't budge.
"What the hell? These things"
"We can't take 'em off." Nox was panting like a wild dog. "Feels like my bones are grinding."
He flopped against another tree, glaring at the pads. "I mean, we could probably punch a tree down right now. How does that make us stronger?"
"Raizen's strong. Maybe he knows what he's doing let's just keep up with this for a while," Juro said between gasps. He knelt, inspecting the strange metal bands. No seams, no latches. Like they'd fused to their skin.
Nox shot him a side eye. "You're either a genius or you were a genius." A raspy chuckle escaped his throat. "Fine. I'll listen to you… for now."
A voice cut through the forest. "You really should listen to him."
They froze. Heads whipped left and right.
"Where the hell" Nox's eyes shot upward. Raizen was perched on a massive branch like a lazy predator, legs crossed, elbow on his knee, chin in his palm.
"How did you get there? We've been running in a straight line for hours!" Nox barked.
"The man can summon lightning and you're shocked he can run faster than us?" Juro muttered with a suspicious look.
Nox grunted, low but audible.
Raizen raised three fingers lazily. "Three things. One, you've been running in circles. But that doesn't really matter, movement's movement."
"Circles?!" Nox snapped.
"Two, it's only been five hours. Why are you stopping?"
"Because it's been five hours and we're dying," Juro wheezed.
Raizen ignored him. "And three if you're talking this loud, it means you're not even close to being tired. I said run until you hate breathing. Until your lungs feel like they'll explode,but there you are chatting.
"I'm pretty sure he's gonna kill us before the Dreknars get the chance," Nox groaned.
"Just shut up and let's keep running," Juro said, still inspecting his arm pads.
"Listen to him," Raizen's voice echoed again, now from somewhere else entirely. "He sounds a lot smarter than you."
Nox let out a low growl. With exaggerated effort, he pointed at Juro. "First,you shut up, and secondly, Raizen, what are you now? A ghost?!"
"I really, truly hate kids," Raizen's voice floated through the trees, detached and amused.
"We're not kids! We're sixteen!" Nox roared back, chest heaving.
Juro grabbed him by the collar before he could pick another fight with thin air. "Come on let's move."
And they ran again.
Three hours later
Juro's voice came out like gravel, "I think… we've been running… almost eight hours… on an empty stomach. I can't… I can't go on."
He collapsed face first into the dirt. His arms trembled just to keep him propped up. The heat pressed down like a second set of weights. Even with the trees throwing shade, the air felt thick enough to chew.
Nox crumpled in front of him, throat bone dry, his lips cracked. He didn't have the strength to speak. He couldn't even feel the pads on his arms and legs anymore, his body had gone numb in its rebellion.
A voice cut through the haze, calm, maddeningly steady. "If you cross this line," Raizen said, dragging the tip of a long stick across the ground, "you've made it to forty kilometers."
Nox cracked his eyes open. Raizen stood in front of them like he'd been there the whole time. In his other hand, he held a bag. He dropped it by the line. Out spilled water, food, and two shiny red apples that gleamed like heaven itself.
Nox was fifteen feet away from the line. Juro was ten feet behind him. Fifteen feet might as well have been fifteen miles. His muscles screamed, every joint locked in fire. He tilted his head back toward Juro, his jagged breathing had gone frighteningly silent.
He wanted to call his name but could only mouth something soundless. His tongue was like paper. His lips wouldn't move.
Then he understood. Raizen wasn't going to give them that food. He wasn't going to carry them. If they wanted to live, they'd have to save theirselves.
Nox's gaze locked on the water. That was it. His whole world shrank to that container. He didn't think. He didn't plan. He just started crawling.
He dragged himself like a dying soldier on a battlefield, elbows grinding into the earth. Every inch felt like a war. He felt the dirt grind into his wounds, ants marching across his neck, rocks digging into his ribs. He let himself feel all of it, because stopping meant death. He kept whispering in his head. Just the water, just reach the water.
His vision blurred. His lungs burned. His chest rasped for air like crushed bellows. But the line got closer, closer and closer and closer and closer.
Then he was over it.
Nox's shaking hand slapped the container, fingers curling around it like a drowning man grabbing driftwood. He forced himself up onto his knees, then somehow to his feet. He stumbled back to Juro with nothing left in him but stubbornness.
He dropped to his knees and propped Juro's head on his lap. "Drink," he croaked, shoving the container to his friend's lips.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then Juro gulped greedily, the sound louder than the pounding in Nox's ears. He grabbed the container himself and drank like a man who'd been dying for years.
The sight made Nox smile faintly, then his body finally gave out. He fell sideways into the dirt, boneless.
"Idiot," Juro rasped, coughing. He sat up with his own shaky hands and tilted the container back to Nox's lips. The cold water hit like liquid life.
Nox sputtered mid gulp, coughing. "Coughstop! Juro, you're pouring it into my nose!"
Juro dropped the container and swung a weak punch at his shoulder. "Shut up," he muttered. They both started laughing. It sounded broken and hoarse and alive.
Nox glanced sideways and blinked. "Hey… your weights are off."
Sure enough, Juro's pads were unshackled, lying discarded by his feet.
Juro pointed at the sand line Raizen had drawn. "Yours too. Right before the finish line."
"Whoa. Wonder how that happened." Nox wheezed a laugh, still lying flat on the ground.
His stomach growled, loud and feral. Juro shot him a look, ready to clown him. Then his own stomach roared even louder, almost shaking his ribs.
They both broke into another round of ragged laughter. It hurt to laugh, but they laughed anyway. And then, half dragging each other, they stumbled toward the bag of food sitting beyond the line in the sand.