Life is a journey filled with ups and downs. Each day, we make choices that shape who we are and how we see the world. It's easy to focus on the good things—your achievements, your happy moments, and the people you love. But it's also important to notice the harder times, the failures, and the challenges. These tough experiences teach us valuable lessons and help us grow.
When we face difficulties, we have a chance to learn about our strength and resilience. Sometimes, we might feel lost or stuck, but these feelings are part of being human. They remind us that we are not perfect and that everyone struggles in their own way. Understanding this can help us connect with others, as we all share similar experiences.
Moreover, life is not just about individual journeys but also about relationships. The people we meet can teach us new ideas and perspectives, helping us grow in ways we never expected. Sharing our struggles and victories with others builds bonds and deepens our understanding of life. We are all part of a larger story, one that includes family, friends, and even strangers.
Furthermore, it's essential to find balance in our lives. We should not only seek happiness but also accept sadness and discomfort. These emotions are all part of our experience. By embracing every moment, we learn to appreciate life in all its forms. Ultimately, life teaches us that growth often comes from facing challenges head-on, and in doing so, we discover who we truly are and what we are capable of achieving.
***Remius' POV***
One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of relentless running. Every single day started with the same grueling routine, the same exhausting rhythm. Step after step, heartbeat after heartbeat, mile after mile, as if the very essence of my existence had become a never-ending cycle of endurance and perseverance. I had imagined that by now, something significant would have changed. That maybe, just maybe, I would feel a difference in my body, or see some clear evidence of progress.
But when I stood still and took stock of myself—really thought about it—I realized that nothing had changed in the ways I had hoped. My stamina had improved; that much was undeniable. I could run longer distances, endure more, push through pain in a way that had once seemed impossible. But when I checked my status, those hopeful dreams were quickly shattered.
[Status]
Name: Remius
Age: 8
STR: F
VIT: F
DEX: F
INT: F
WIS: F
LUCK: 10
Talent: X
Power: F
Type: Mana
Special: Empath
Everything was still at F. The letters mocked me, staring back at me from the glowing interface, reminding me that despite all the work I'd put in, I was still at the bottom. Still weak. Still powerless. I had worked just as hard as everyone else—harder, even. I had pushed myself beyond my limits, endured more pain and exhaustion than I had ever thought possible. And yet… nothing.
I sighed, closing the status window with a flick of my wrist. It was pointless to dwell on it, I knew that. But it was hard not to feel frustrated when I compared myself to the others. Liora and Lysander, for example. They had changed—visibly so. Liora, with her fierce determination, had always been strong, but now she seemed even more so. Her muscles were more defined, her movements more fluid, more controlled. Lysander, too, had grown taller, broader, his once-boyish features sharpening into something more mature, more confident. And their stats reflected that growth. Both of them had moved from F to E, their power levels increasing along with their physical prowess.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy every time I looked at them. They had grown so much, while I remained stuck in place. It wasn't just the physical differences, either. They seemed… happier, more at ease with themselves. There was a sense of accomplishment in the way they carried themselves, a confidence that came from knowing they had improved, that their hard work had paid off. I couldn't say the same for myself.
But it wasn't just about the status numbers. There was something else, something deeper that gnawed at me, something I couldn't quite put into words. It was as if I was missing something, some crucial piece of the puzzle that everyone else seemed to have figured out. And that feeling only grew stronger with each passing day.
As we made our way to the training grounds, the familiar weight of that suffocating aura pressed down on us. It was always there, hovering just on the edge of perception, like a storm cloud ready to burst. None of us knew where it came from or what caused it, but it was always present, reminding us that we were not in control. That there was something out there, something watching us, judging us, pushing us to our limits.
I glanced at Liora and Lysander. They seemed to feel it too, their faces tight with concentration, their bodies tense with anticipation. Liora's bright yellow hair glinted in the sunlight, her blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the training grounds for any sign of what was to come. Lysander, usually so confident and carefree, was uncharacteristically quiet, his brow furrowed in thought. We had been through so much together over the past year, but despite everything, there was still a sense of uncertainty that hung over us like a shadow.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of us. A woman, perhaps in her early thirties, with hair as red as molten lava and eyes that glowed like embers from a dying fire. She was tall and slender, but there was a strength to her, a sense of power that radiated from her like heat from a forge. Her features were sharp, almost regal, and there was an intensity in her gaze that made me feel as though she could see right through me, stripping away all my defenses and leaving me bare before her.
She was dressed in a simple training outfit—black trousers and a fitted tunic—but there was nothing simple about the way she carried herself. Every movement was precise, controlled, as if she were a predator stalking her prey. There was an air of authority about her, a sense that she was not someone to be trifled with.
As she approached us, the aura grew stronger, pressing down on us with even more force. I saw Liora and Lysander flinch, their eyes widening in fear. Even I couldn't help but take a step back, my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of her presence was overwhelming, like standing too close to a fire that was burning just a little too hot. It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time.
Then she spoke, and her voice was as cold and commanding as the aura she emitted. "Run," she said simply. It was a single word, but it carried with it an undeniable weight, a sense of inevitability. We had no choice but to obey. The moment the word left her lips, my body reacted on instinct, my muscles tensing as though they were preparing to flee. Even Liora and Lysander, who had grown so much stronger over the past year, were unable to resist the command.
The woman's eyes flickered over us, as if she were evaluating our every move, every breath. Then, with a sigh of dissatisfaction, she added, "Run. That's all you've done for a year. What have you achieved? Strength? Vitality? Dexterity? Whatever you think you've gained, it's not enough. Not even close."
Her words were like a slap to the face. I could feel the blood draining from my cheeks as I realized what she was saying. All the work we had put in, all the pain and suffering we had endured—it wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to being enough.
She continued, her voice growing more intense with every word. "What you've done isn't training. It was merely a test. A test of your willpower, to see if you could keep going even when everything in your body was telling you to stop. And you did. You kept going, and for that, I am satisfied. But don't think for a second that you've achieved anything. This was just the beginning."
Lysander, usually so confident and outgoing, seemed almost meek as he spoke up. "Who… who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
The woman's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she was going to lash out at him. But instead, she simply raised her aura, the pressure around us intensifying to the point where it felt like we were being crushed under the weight of it. Lysander flinched again, fear written all over his face. "I'm sorry," he stammered, quickly bowing his head in apology.
The woman didn't respond immediately. She just stared at us with those glowing orange eyes, her expression unreadable. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke. "You don't need to know who I am. All you need to know is that I've been assigned as your foundational instructor. From now on, I will be overseeing your training."
Her words sent a shiver down my spine. If this was just the beginning, what was coming next? What kind of training did she have in store for us? I didn't know, but one thing was certain: it was going to be even more intense than what we had already endured.
But despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, there was a part of me that felt… hopeful. This was just the beginning. There were still two more years of training ahead of us, two more years to grow stronger, to improve. Maybe, just maybe, I could still change. Maybe I could still catch up to Liora and Lysander. Maybe I could still make something of myself.
The woman's aura finally dimmed, and she turned away from us, her fiery hair swaying as she moved. "Tomorrow," she said over her shoulder, "your real training begins. Be prepared."
And with that, she was gone, leaving us standing there in the oppressive silence of the training grounds. The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, but there was also something else there. Something that hadn't been there before. A sense of possibility. A sense of hope.
As I made my way back to the dorms that night, I couldn't stop thinking about what the woman had said. This was just the beginning. There was still so much more to come, so much more to endure. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could handle it.
Sure, my status hadn't changed. I was still stuck at F, while Liora and Lysander had moved on to E. But there were still two more years left. Two more years to become stronger. I clenched my fists, determination surging through me. I wouldn't give up. I couldn't give up. Not now. Not when there was still a chance that I could change.
As I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, I allowed myself to dream. Dream of what I could become. Of what I would become. I didn't know what the future held, but one thing was certain: I was going to give it everything I had. No matter what it took, no matter how hard it got, I was going to keep pushing forward.
Because if there was one thing I had learned over the past year, it was this: I was capable of more than I had ever imagined. And that was enough to keep me going.