The nearby grass on the field continued to bounce in a rhythmic fashion as droplets of water slid off them into the mud.
If you stood close enough, you might even feel the ground tremble.
Every heavy step Liam took on the field likely knocked an ant off balance.
It had been days since he started training, yet his size remained relatively the same. However, his face had changed, not in tone or color, but in mood.
By the end of his routine, his body began to drag, his steps growing sluggish.
Even in this state, he had to maintain proper technique while jogging.
If he didn't, he could hurt his knees, something that would cost him in the long run.
Normally, this wouldn't be a concern for most people.
But no human was ever meant to carry this much weight.
His heart barely kept up.
His knees, however, were entirely unprepared for this strain.
So, he had to be careful.
Krr…
He heard the familiar crepitus, his joints cracking.
It wasn't serious, but he stopped, nonetheless.
"Thirty-two minutes!" David stood up, clicking the stopwatch as he strolled toward Liam. "You've improved so much in a day!"
"Eh…" Liam replied, exhausted.
There wasn't much improvement despite the time. Yesterday, he had tested his endurance, counting how long he could go all out.
But since he lacked the time to increase his endurance, he had to find another way, a method to survive in a fight by reserving energy wisely.
Today, his jabs were fast but lacked power, while his straight punches carried full force.
He jogged slower, limiting the use of his entire body to conserve energy.
"Thirty-two minutes of slow fighting…" He closed his eyes, trying to envision how he could win.
Most of his planning revolved around buying time, moving away from danger, minimizing damage, and gathering information.
Then, and only then, would he put everything into a decisive attack.
"If all goes to plan, I'll put up a real fight and win in thirteen minutes…" He whispered, pushing himself up.
"My Lord, wouldn't you benefit greatly from a personal martial trainer?" David asked. "I'm more than happy to assist, but all I do now is click a button."
Liam accidentally choked on his own saliva, coughing before answering, "Whoo… I'm aware." He took a deep breath. "But most of my weekly budget from the House is nearly gone."
"That quickly?"
"I did hire you… and him." He pointed at David and his sparring partner.
'Most of his budget was probably spent on food before he got the news,' David thought.
And since Liam wasn't a priority in the House, he likely wouldn't get a better budget.
David needed to keep his job, but given the situation, it didn't seem like his employment would last long.
'Maybe I can spin this for my resume…'
Sera stood far away from Liam as usual.
Beside her was a pile of wet towels, soaked through with his sweat alone.
David raised his hand. "Another one!"
Sera tossed a fresh warm towel toward David, who caught it and handed it to his fief.
Her eyes lingered on Liam.
Unlike his former self, he had a genuine smile on his face.
It was as if he had never known anger.
But she knew the truth.
She had lived through it, been on the receiving end of it.
'When the motivation runs dry… he'll go back to who he was.'
That was what she believed.
Yet, it hadn't happened yet.
Either he was running on a long reserve of motivation, or…
He had truly changed.
Both seemed plausible, but she believed the first.
"It's like looking at a different person…"
A warm voice spoke beside her.
She turned her head, her eyes meeting Valen's.
His face was flawless, unblemished.
His jawline sharp as a knife, his ocean-blue eyes piercing.
She had met many men, but none compared to Valen Maddach.
Liam and Valen were complete opposites, or at least, the first Liam Maddach had been.
"Yes…" she replied, turning back to Liam.
"Has he still… you know?" Valen asked.
She shook her head. "He stopped."
Valen let out a light sigh of relief, before pausing, his brow lifting.
"When?"
"When he got the news."
Valen shook his head.
'That alone shouldn't be enough for him to change this much.'
Change took time, even if it was fake.
Of all the family members, Valen had spent the most time observing people.
That included the servants.
He knew Liam.
Liam was not smart.
Liam was not a planner.
Hell, Liam probably wasn't capable of thinking at all.
And unlike himself, Liam's taste in food was atrocious, he didn't care about refinement, only about stuffing his stomach.
"To act this convincingly…" He gritted his teeth.
"Despite everything he did to you…" He turned to Sera.
"Sera, you don't have to hide anything from me anymore." His voice was soft but firm. "If he beats you, you can tell me. I can do something now."
He had tried to put a stop to her abuse in the past, but due to his lack of status, it hadn't mattered at all.
Now, however, he was an heir.
Disobeying him meant disobeying a future Baron.
Sera shook her head, smiling. "I will, but… I'm fine."
She had been brought to House Maddach at a young age.
Unlike the older servants, she had no real peers.
But Valen?
Valen had always been there.
Her smile faded.
She saw Asterix entering the field.
"Valen." She whispered.
"I know. I'll talk to you later." He whispered back, locking eyes with Asterix from across the field.
There was an unspoken rule among nobles, especially noble men.
No intimate relationships with servants.
Marriage was reserved for increasing political reach, not for love.
That was why most House leaders had to take the women they truly loved as consorts or concubines instead.
The older nobles, both male and female, viewed servants as playthings disposable objects for their desires.
Valen walked away, sighing.
He loved her.
But he knew what would happen if he acknowledged it.
He knew what had happened to Gorath's brother.
And he knew what would happen to him if he made the same mistake.