The sound of fists colliding with the punching bags echoed loudly and repeatedly through the training hall. Each punch the bags received from their sweaty fists left a slight mark, their entire bodies now covered in sweat.
Their heavy breathing mixed with the constant and rapid punches delivered to the bag. They had been going for hours now, and with each punch, their attacks became more controlled, more precise, moderately quick.
Although quick and powerful, the punches did not move the bag farther than instructed. Each strike on the punching bag represented a higher level of moderated force.
"Surely we've reached ten thousand?" Calyx hugged the punching bag, breathing heavily in exhaustion. Zaine stopped as well, his hands placed on his knees, sweat dripping from his face to the floor.
"You think? I wasn't counting," Cass yawned as she watched them for a moment before rising from where she sat.
