In the cultivation world, strength was expensive to achieve. Its price was sweat, blood, hardship and a constant strive towards perfection.
As they trained zealously, captain Timi stood from the Tesseract.
In his hand was a cup of tea.
At the moment, he was standing on the Tesseract, observing the performance of the traniees.
In front was Dylan. Since the start of this trianing, he had managed to always stay ahead.
Even for a second, he did not fall behind.
His constitution was amazing. It was almost as if his body was built for the specific purpose of being beaten by sun and rain.
Even now, as he ran, while other people felt total fatique, he felt a mixture of both.
Was almost like he got a refuel anytime he was about to totally gas out.
For some reason he did not know, only a little extra effort showed significant result.
