Jacob stepped into the barn, and the familiar scent of animals, hay, and earth washed over him. The barn was simple but sturdy, filled with tools, sacks of feed, and a few stalls where the horses stood, waiting to be fed and cleaned. Their breath came out in soft huffs, the only sound breaking the heavy silence.
Zephyr strode in behind him, his steps sure and unhurried. He grabbed a nearby pitchfork and tossed it to Jacob, who caught it awkwardly in his hands.
"This isn't some fancy martial arts school," Zephyr said, his voice low but firm. "You won't find any glowing lights or mystical incantations here. If you want to understand how your body works, you need to push it to its limits. And nothing does that better than hard labor."
Jacob took a deep breath, gripping the pitchfork tighter. He had expected something more... dramatic. But maybe this was the point—breaking him down, stripping away everything until he could feel each fiber of muscle for what it was.
Zephyr pointed to the large pile of hay at the far end of the barn. "Start by moving that. Then muck out the stalls. Once you're done, water the horses. We'll see how long you last."
Jacob nodded, not wasting a breath on words. He moved toward the pile of hay and started working. At first, it wasn't too bad—the repetitive motion of lifting the hay with the pitchfork and tossing it aside gave him a rhythm. But as time wore on, the strain in his muscles began to grow. His back ached, his arms burned, and sweat dripped down his face in thick rivulets.
He pushed through it, his mind focused on the goal. He wasn't here to complain or give up. He needed to feel what Zephyr had described—the individual fibers of his muscles, each twitch and strain, until he could recognize them all. Only then could he hope to survive the Dragon Hippo technique.
By the time he finished moving the hay, his body felt like it had been through a war. His hands trembled as he leaned on the pitchfork, sucking in deep breaths. Zephyr watched him with a silent intensity, arms crossed, showing no sign of sympathy or encouragement.
"You're not done," Zephyr finally said, jerking his chin toward the stalls. "Get to it."
Jacob gritted his teeth and moved on to the next task—cleaning out the stalls. The horses stood patiently as he mucked out the old straw and manure, his movements slower now, each step a struggle. His arms ached from lifting the pitchfork, but he pressed on. There was no room for complaints.
As he worked, he noticed Royu, the stallion he and Zuri had taken into the city, standing in the farthest stall. The massive horse watched him, its dark eyes calm but alert. Jacob felt a strange connection to the animal, like it understood the weight he carried, the challenge he was facing. Royu snorted softly, pawing at the ground as if encouraging him to keep going.
Jacob gave the stallion a tired smile, his breath coming out in short gasps. "Almost... done..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He finished cleaning out Royu's stall, then grabbed a bucket of water, hauling it over to the horses.
As he refilled their troughs, Royu stepped closer, nudging Jacob's arm with its large nose. The gesture was gentle, almost comforting. For a moment, Jacob felt a flicker of energy return to him, as though the stallion's presence gave him a second wind.
"Thanks, big guy," Jacob whispered, patting Royu's neck. The stallion huffed in response, its warm breath brushing against Jacob's skin.
By the time Jacob finished his work, his body was screaming in protest. His muscles twitched involuntarily, but he couldn't tell if it was the fatigue or something more. He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to Zephyr, who hadn't moved from his spot by the door.
Zephyr's eyes flicked over Jacob, assessing him in silence. Finally, he nodded once, a brief acknowledgment of the effort Jacob had put in.
"You did well for a first day," Zephyr said, though his tone carried little warmth. "But this is just the beginning. If you want to unlock the Dragon Hippo technique, you'll need to keep this up. Day after day, until you can feel every part of your body. Only then will you have a chance."
Jacob nodded, too tired to respond verbally. He set the pitchfork down and wiped his hands on his pants, his fingers sore and stiff.
"Go rest," Zephyr said, turning toward the door. "Tomorrow will be harder."
The next few days passed in a blur of grueling work and exhaustion. Each morning, Jacob woke before dawn, his body already sore from the day before. He would eat a small breakfast with Zuri and Zephyr, exchanging little more than nods before heading to the barn. The routine became familiar—moving hay, cleaning stalls, feeding and watering the horses, and tending to the fields. The work was relentless, pushing Jacob to the edge of his endurance.
But through it all, he kept his mind focused on one thing: the Dragon Hippo technique. Each night, after the day's labor was done, he would sit with the scroll, trying to decipher its cryptic language. The symbols danced before his eyes, their meaning just out of reach, but Jacob refused to give up. He studied each word carefully, tracing the lines with his finger, trying to connect them to the sensations in his body.
By the fourth day, Jacob could feel it—something had changed. It was subtle at first, just a faint awareness of the way his muscles moved as he worked. But as the day went on, the feeling grew stronger. He could sense the tension in his arms, the pull of his back, the strain in his legs as he lifted and moved, each fiber working in tandem.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon, while he was mucking out the last of the stalls, that it happened.
As he bent down to scoop up the old straw, a sudden twitch ran through his arm—a sharp, unmistakable jolt of energy that made him stop in his tracks. He froze, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel it now—his muscles, each fiber responding to his movements in a way he had never felt before.
A grin spread across Jacob's face, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
"I... feel... it," he whispered to himself, excitement bubbling up inside him. This was it—the first step toward unlocking the Dragon Hippo technique.