The morning sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling farmland. The past few days had been a grueling trial, testing Jacob's resolve in ways he hadn't anticipated. The Dragon Hippo technique had consumed his thoughts, even during the backbreaking farm work. But today was different. Today, he felt stronger—different.
Jacob stood in front of the barn, hands on his hips, breathing in the crisp morning air. His muscles still ached from the days before, but there was an energy simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. After feeling that first twitch of muscle awareness the day before, something had clicked inside him. His body had responded in ways he hadn't fully understood at first, but now, there was no mistaking it. He had begun to grasp the first stage of the Dragon Hippo technique.
Zephyr, as usual, was waiting near the barn, his expression unreadable. The older man had been quietly observing Jacob's progress, never offering praise but never criticizing either. Today, however, Zephyr's gaze lingered a little longer on Jacob as he approached.
Without a word, Zephyr pointed toward the large sacks of grain stacked near the barn's entrance. "Move those to the far field," he said simply, his tone as stern and detached as always.
Jacob glanced at the sacks—heavy and cumbersome, each weighing at least a hundred pounds. In the past, he would've struggled to carry even one across the field. But now, something had shifted within him. He could feel the power coursing through his muscles, subtle but undeniable.
He walked over to the first sack, crouching low and gripping the rough burlap with both hands. His muscles tensed, and he took a deep breath, focusing on the sensation of every fiber in his arms, back, and legs as he prepared to lift.
With a grunt, Jacob hoisted the sack onto his shoulder. His eyes widened slightly as he realized how much easier it felt compared to the first time he'd done this kind of work. The weight was still heavy, but it no longer crushed him under its burden. Instead, he felt a surge of strength ripple through his body, like a chain of energy connecting his muscles, each one amplifying the other.
He took his first step forward, adjusting the weight as he walked toward the far field. His steps were steady, his balance sure. The effort was there, but it didn't overwhelm him like before. It was as if his body had adapted, attuning itself to the physical demands placed upon it.
Zephyr watched him closely, arms folded across his chest. The old man's eyes narrowed, a glimmer of surprise flashing across his face before it disappeared just as quickly. He remained silent, though Jacob could feel the weight of his gaze.
As Jacob reached the far field and set the sack down, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar ache but also something more—satisfaction. The knowledge that his body was responding, growing stronger, filled him with a quiet confidence.
He returned to the barn for the next sack, his movements smoother now, more efficient. Each trip across the field felt like another small victory, his body adapting to the strain with every step. By the time he had moved the last sack, sweat poured down his face, but the exhaustion that had once crippled him was nowhere to be found.
"Good," Zephyr said at last, his tone gruff. "You're learning."
Jacob wiped his brow, breathing heavily but grinning through the fatigue. "Feel... stronger," he said, his words still broken, though he understood every nuance of Zephyr's statement.
The old man nodded, his expression thoughtful. "You've tapped into the technique's first stage," he said. "But don't get cocky. This is just the beginning."
Jacob nodded in agreement. He knew that mastering the Dragon Hippo technique would take more than a few days of hard labor. But even so, the progress he had made filled him with a sense of pride. For the first time since arriving in this strange world, he felt like he had a path forward—something to work toward, something tangible.
Zephyr motioned toward the horses, particularly Royu, who stood in his stall, watching the proceedings with his usual calm intensity. "Clean out the stalls," Zephyr ordered. "And feed them."
Jacob didn't hesitate. He grabbed the pitchfork and began cleaning the horses' stalls, his movements quicker and more controlled than they had been in previous days. The familiar burn in his muscles felt different now—almost like a reminder of how far he had come.
When he reached Royu's stall, the stallion snorted softly, his dark eyes locking onto Jacob's. There was a certain respect in the horse's gaze, as if recognizing the changes in the young man. Jacob smiled, patting the horse's strong neck.
"Strong now... like you," Jacob muttered, his voice low but filled with determination.
He finished cleaning Royu's stall and brought the horse fresh water. As he worked, he noticed how his muscles responded to every small movement, each one perfectly in sync with the other. His body was no longer the awkward, struggling mess it had been when he first arrived. Now, it moved with purpose, with strength.
As the sun climbed higher into the sky, Jacob continued working around the farm. Whether it was carrying sacks, feeding the animals, or repairing tools, he could feel the extra force in his body—a hundred pounds of additional strength, coursing through his limbs. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there, like a reservoir of energy he could tap into whenever he needed.
By midday, Zephyr approached him again. "You've done well," the old man said, his tone gruff but with a hint of approval. "But don't think this is the end. You've just scratched the surface of the Dragon Hippo technique."
Jacob wiped his hands on his pants, his breathing steady despite the morning's work. "Want... more," he said, his broken words carrying the weight of his determination.
Zephyr raised an eyebrow. "More, huh? You've got the strength now, but strength alone isn't enough. The Dragon Hippo technique requires precision—control over every muscle fiber, down to the smallest twitch. That's what separates those who survive it from those who are torn apart by it."
Jacob nodded, his expression serious. He wasn't naive enough to think that this new strength made him invincible. He had seen enough of this world's dangers to know that power came with a price. But he was willing to pay it.
Zephyr watched him for a moment longer, then turned away, his voice carrying over his shoulder as he walked toward the house. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we'll see just how far you're willing to go."
Jacob watched Zephyr disappear into the house, his mind racing. The progress he had made over the past few days was undeniable, but he knew there was so much more to learn—more strength to gain, more control to master. The Dragon Hippo technique was just the beginning.
He glanced back at Royu, who was now grazing quietly in the field. The stallion's powerful body was a reminder of what Jacob was working toward—a body that could withstand the immense strain of the technique, a body that could survive the trials ahead.
As the day came to a close, Jacob found himself back in the barn, sitting on a bale of hay, staring at the worn scroll in his hands. The cryptic symbols seemed to mock him, their meanings just out of reach. But now, with the strength building inside him, he felt closer than ever to understanding them.
He would learn the Dragon Hippo technique. He had to.