Morning came with the sound of a warhorn loud enough to wake the dead—probably doing a backflip while at it.
I woke up.Not from an alarm, but because a muscular soldier barged into my room yelling,"All soldiers! Prepare for physical training!!"
Still half-asleep, I sat on that rock-hard excuse of a bed, my hair resembling a bird's nest."Physical training? Today too? I just recovered yesterday…" I mumbled, blankly staring into the void.
After changing clothes, I joined the other soldiers on the field.The sky was cloudy, the wind was cool, and the ground still muddy. Perfect. For dying from slipping.
Commander Kael was already standing in the center.With a voice that sounded like the drums of war, he bellowed,"Ten laps around the field! Anyone slow gets 100 push-ups! No exceptions!"
My eyes widened. Ten laps?! I can barely breathe after running three steps!But I had no choice. I started running.
Lap one: Okay, this isn't so bad.Lap two: Okay, breathing's getting rough.Lap three: Okay, my heart is negotiating with my bones.Lap four: SLIP! I fell flat into the mud... and yeah... embarrassing.
Then I saw Arkell—the arrogant genius mage—casually walking past me and saying,"Oh, this is what you call 'soldier strength'? Fascinating."
YOU JERK, I SWEAR I'LL KICK YOU!
But I said nothing.Still face-down in the mud, I cried internally."When does vacation start…?"
I tried to get up. My legs were shaking.But… someone grabbed my arm.
Kael.He looked at me—expressionless, as always."Giving up too easily. Get up. You're not done yet."
I looked at him like a dehydrated cat in the desert.
But I got up.
I kept running.
Because for some reason, even though my body was frail and my breath sounded like a dying balloon pump,I didn't want to give up.Because in this world… I don't have any other choice.