The training fields stretched endlessly beneath the afternoon sun, the once, loose dirt now baked hard, cracked in places where the heat had drawn out every last bit of moisture.
The rhythmic pounding of boots echoed across the open space as groups of mages ran their laps, their bodies moving in uneven strides, some struggling, others pushing forward with grim determination.
The heat clung to their skin, sweat streaking their faces, soaking into their tunics, making them heavier with every step.
Gon ran with his small crew, his movements steady and controlled. His breath came evenly, his arms loose at his sides, his body working through the motion without strain.
The sword he had trained with that morning was now secured at his hip, its weight familiar, a reminder of the work he had already put in.
The training master's words still echoed in his head, clear and sharp: Physical work, day one. Push the body.
