"Damn it! Even this nameless, crappy body-tempering technique cost me a whole low-grade magic stone!"
Ronan gritted his teeth as he walked out of the market.
In the end, he had bought it anyway.
The young sorcerer who sold it to him had guaranteed it would improve his physical fitness. He even claimed he'd practiced it himself and—mysteriously—added that it could also enhance mental strength.
"Yeah, right," Ronan muttered, skeptical.
He had planned to shop around a little more, but the sorcerer had subtly unleashed his mental energy, applying just enough pressure to make it clear that walking away wasn't an option. Left with no choice, Ronan had reluctantly handed over the magic stone.
"Great. Not even enough strength to buy something without being pushed around."
Frustrated, Ronan returned to his house deep in the forest.
He had managed to sell two [Cleanse] runes earlier, but somehow his pockets were still empty when he got back.
It was always the same—make money at the market, spend money at the market. Not a single coin ever made it home.
Annoyed by the experience, Ronan threw himself into rune engraving as soon as he got back.
For three straight days, he focused entirely on his craft, engraving all twenty blank rune stones he had. In the end, he succeeded with six of them.
After selling the runes off little by little, he used the profits to buy more blank rune stones. He kept this up until the vendor who bought his runes started giving him a suspicious look, at which point Ronan decided it was best not to return.
"Whew…"
He picked up a rune stone, blowing the dust and stone fragments from its surface, then nodded with satisfaction.
"Another one done."
Although his skill with the [Cleanse] rune was still at the beginner level, Ronan's success rate had steadily improved.
On a good day, he could succeed two or three times in a row. On a bad day, he might fail five or six times in succession. His average success rate had stabilized at around thirty percent—roughly one success for every three attempts.
"I really need to set up a quiet workspace someday. Half my failures are thanks to bugs flying in or birds chirping outside."
Ronan thought about it as he tucked the rune stone into a special pouch. He had already saved up three or four [Cleanse] runes.
Since he had plenty of materials this time, he decided to stockpile more before heading to the Dwarven Market to sell them at a proper rune shop.
"Six [Cleanse] runes got me four and a half low-grade magic stones. I used one for the market entry fee and spent the rest on materials."
On his last trip to sell runes, Ronan haggled hard, practically burning all bridges with the vendor. It was a clear, "Let's never see each other again" kind of deal.
Now, with nearly a hundred blank rune stones in his stash, he wouldn't need to buy more for quite a while.
Ronan stretched as he stepped outside.
He had spent almost all his time recently on rune engraving, with everything else on pause except for his daily meditation.
Feeling stifled, he decided to take a walk through the forest. Without realizing it, he found himself by the lake.
"Whoosh!"
A bluish energy missile shot into the lake, exploding into a column of water several meters high.
Then came a second. A third.
Ronan fired off four or five [Energy Missiles] before tossing his shoes aside, hiking up his robes, and wading barefoot into the lake to catch the fish stunned by the blasts.
"Looks like dinner's sorted."
He caught a few fish, wrapped them in his robes, and planned the evening meal—fish soup, grilled fish, and the rest dried into fish jerky.
After enjoying the fresh air and scenery for a while, Ronan returned home with his catch.
Dinner was a feast. Fish soup, leftover venison, and wild fruits made for a hearty meal.
After dinner, the night was calm and clear. Since he wasn't planning to engrave any runes that evening, he hadn't bothered to make a firefly lamp. Sitting beneath the old oak tree, he read through the body-tempering manual he had bought.
"Looks simple enough. Just follow the steps, right?"
He flipped through the booklet from start to finish. It only contained about ten different poses, each with a short description. Nothing too surprising.
As a rune engraver, Ronan had a habit of memorizing everything before starting. He committed the first pose and its instructions to memory before attempting it.
"This feels... awkward."
It didn't take long for Ronan to realize the difficulty. His body was in terrible shape—stiff and uncoordinated.
A seemingly simple pose took him ages to get right, leaving him drenched in sweat.
"Phew…"
Breathing heavily, Ronan still felt oddly satisfied.
"Not bad, not bad. This exercise is almost as intense as my usual one- or two-hour workouts. Must be a legit body-tempering technique."
He didn't mind that he hadn't quite mastered the first pose yet. Wiping the sweat off, he stood up with a grin.
"Enough for today. Time to meditate and get some sleep."
Life settled into a peaceful routine. Meditation, rune engraving, exercise, and practicing spells. The only real change was replacing his morning run with the body-tempering routine.
The ancient technique was a slow burn but surprisingly effective.
Ronan's appetite grew with each passing day, and his body grew noticeably stronger.
"Ow! Ow! Damn it!"
Ronan lay half-sprawled on the grass beneath a tree, twisted into a bizarre pose, grimacing in pain. His hand slapped the ground frantically like a boxer tapping out.
"Ugh!"
He collapsed onto his back, gasping for breath. After a while, he sat up and wiped the sweat from his face, frustration evident in his eyes.
"Why does this hurt more the closer I get to mastering the first pose?"
The pain was excruciating, like his body was being torn apart. His eyes watered, and he couldn't help but curse the sorcerer who sold him the manual.
He should have known.
Ancient monks were known for extreme physical trials—scorching heat, freezing cold, starvation... The more brutal, the better. This wasn't a full body-tempering technique; it was mainly a method to push the body's pain tolerance to the limit—a self-torture technique disguised as training.
Sure, it had some tempering effect, but it was far from a proper knight's exercise routine.
Too late to return it now. The market vendor was long gone.
"Guess I'll keep at it. I've already come this far. I'll switch to something else once I have more resources."
Ronan sighed in defeat.
Despite the pain, there was something satisfying about it. Every session left him drenched in sweat but strangely refreshed. His body felt lighter, and the chubby, bloated look on his face had noticeably faded.
"Not bad... not bad at all."