Rosh lies in his bed, every muscle in his body aching from the intense training of the day. His limbs feel heavy, his back sore, but he knows that this pain is necessary. "This is for you, Mom… Dad…" he thinks, clutching the thin sheets as exhaustion pulls him deeper into sleep.
The next morning, he wakes up early as usual. The weariness from the previous day lingers, but it's nothing new. He washes up, grabs a quick breakfast, and heads out for the institute. The brisk morning air helps to clear his mind. As he walks, he reflects on the routine—an endless cycle of training and practice, both mentally and physically.
He starts the day with his magic class, where they focus on controlling mana. He can't manifest it properly, but each time it gets easier. His grip on mana feels more secure with each practice. He can sense it flowing within him like a subtle current, but no matter how hard he tries, it refuses to take form. His frustration grows, but he pushes it down, knowing progress is slow. After class, his thoughts turn to swordsmanship.
Instructor Mark waits for them at the training ground, his stern expression already setting the tone for another brutal session. "Alright, ten laps around the field," Mark announces, his voice firm.
The group groans collectively. The field is long, and each lap feels like running across a battlefield. As they start running, Rosh's legs burn from the exertion, sweat trickling down his forehead and neck. The others around him are panting heavily too, their footsteps stumbling by the second lap. The usual complaints fill the air.
"Why does it feel like the laps get longer every time?" someone mutters nearby.
By the time the laps are done, everyone collapses on the ground, gasping for breath. But Mark's voice booms again, "Now comes the strength training. Push-ups, pull-ups, burpees, jumping jacks! Let's go, don't slack off!"
They begrudgingly rise and get to it. The push-ups burn their arms, the pull-ups make their shoulders scream, and by the time they get to burpees, Rosh feels like his body might give up. But he doesn't. He keeps going, even as his limbs feel like they're made of lead.
"I need to keep pushing… I have to get stronger... For them."
After what feels like hours of torment, they finally lie spent on the ground. "Is he trying to kill us?" someone whispers. "That man's the devil," another mutters.
Rosh chuckles to himself, though he's too tired to say much more. He wipes the sweat from his brow and starts the slow, aching walk home.
The next day follows the same pattern. Magic practice comes first, then more swordsmanship training with Mark's grueling routines. But as each day passes, the exercises become more manageable. Rosh notices that he's gaining strength—slowly, steadily. He no longer struggles as much with sensing mana, though manifestation still eludes him.
During free days, Rosh finds himself practicing swordsmanship with Joseph, the friend he made on the first day. Joseph is… different. From the start, he was cautious around Rosh, often muttering strange words like "Doomsrider" and "Death King." Rosh had no idea what they meant, but Joseph seemed to study him each time he spoke them. After a while, though, Joseph seemed to relax, realizing Rosh wasn't who he thought he was.
Over time, Joseph's interactions become more relaxed, playful even. During sword practice, Joseph would often nudge him toward things Rosh hadn't really considered.
One day, while practicing their forms, Joseph elbows Rosh and points at a group of girls training nearby.
"Hey, Rosh, look at her. Isn't she beautiful? I mean, look at those reflexes… those long legs… that face. Man, when am I gonna have a girlfriend like her?"
Rosh shrugs. "I'm more focused on training, and you should too."
"Come on, man! You've gotta think about more than just training. We're still young!" Joseph flashes a grin, then sighs dramatically.
"Life's hard when you don't have a girl by your side, you know? She gives your life meaning, makes you stronger! It's a man's duty to be with a woman they love."
At first, Rosh brushes off Joseph's comments. He's focused solely on his training, pushing himself day by day. But Joseph keeps at it. Every now and then, he'd point out another girl. "Oh, look at her over there. Now she is the one. Look at her eyes, Rosh. When am I gonna find someone like that?"
Rosh doesn't give in at first, but he starts noticing things. He sneaks a glance here and there at the girls Joseph points out, admiring their forms, their strength. Days turn into weeks, and before Rosh realizes it, his thoughts are slowly changing. He's never been one to care about romance, but now… now he finds himself thinking about it. He catches himself wondering what it would be like to have someone by his side.
By the end of the first week, Rosh feels stronger. He can now sense his mana without straining, though still can't manifest it. The swordsmanship classes with Mark are still grueling, but his body feels a bit more adapted to the stress. Each training session is still difficult, but he no longer collapses after each one.
Joseph's influence is constant. One afternoon, as they practice, Joseph leans over and says, "Rosh, look at that one over there." He points toward a beautiful girl training in the distance. Rosh sneaks a peek, watching her form. She's graceful, strong, and… beautiful.
Joseph chuckles. "I saw that. You're becoming a man, Rosh! Hahaha!"
Rosh feels his face grow warm. "You're a bad influence on me, Joseph."
Joseph laughs. "Bad influence? Come on, this is how life works, Rosh. It's our destiny to be with them. Watch, I'll show you."
Joseph saunters over to the girl, putting on a confident smile. "Hey, miss, you're looking great out here. How about I help you with your training, and afterward, we can grab something to eat? What do you say?"
The girl rolls her eyes and dismisses him outright. "Get lost, Joseph. I'm not interested in you, you pervert."
Joseph returns to Rosh with a sheepish grin. "Ahh, too harsh. But that's how you do it. You've got to be bold, man."
Rosh deadpans. "She rejected you outright."
Joseph laughs loudly. "That's just part of the process, don't sweat the details!"
Rosh tries to brush it off, but Joseph's influence seeps into him. He finds himself peeking more and more at the girls during practice, his focus shifting in subtle ways.
Weeks pass, and by the third week, Rosh feels his progress in both magic and swordsmanship. His mana control has improved significantly. He can now sense his mana with ease and even manifest a small ball of energy in his hand. His body is stronger too, and the once-punishing physical training has become more manageable. He no longer feels drained at the end of each session, leaving him with enough energy to train on his own afterward.
Joseph's constant teasing and commentary about girls slowly shifts Rosh's mindset. What started as occasional glances have now become more frequent. Joseph, noticing Rosh's change, grins at him whenever he catches him sneaking a look at the girls.
"You're coming along just fine, Rosh," Joseph teases. "Before long, you'll be asking one of them out yourself."
Rosh, still a bit embarrassed, shrugs it off. But deep down, he knows Joseph's influence is changing him, bit by bit.