The morning sun blazed overhead, turning the training grounds into an oven. Sweat poured down Erin's face in rivers, stinging his eyes and soaking through his shirt. His arms trembled violently, muscles screaming in protest as he forced himself through another push-up.
"One hundred and forty-eight... one hundred and forty-nine... one hundred and—"
His arms gave out.
Erin collapsed face-first into the dirt, his chest heaving, his entire body on fire. The ground beneath him was damp with sweat, the earth cool against his burning skin.
From somewhere nearby, Noah's voice drifted lazily through the air.
"Failed."
Erin didn't even flinch.
He pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of dirt, his jaw set. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Noah lay cocooned in his sleeping bag as usual, his face half-buried in the fabric. But this time, Erin didn't care. He didn't need Noah's approval. He didn't need to be told he was improving.
He knew he was.
And that was enough.
Without a word, Erin grabbed the buckets and broke into a jog toward the river. His legs burned, his back ached as he climbed the hills, but he didn't slow down. The forest blurred around him as he pushed forward, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts.
The river was a welcome sight, its crystal-clear waters glinting under the sun. He plunged the buckets in, the cold shock of the water a brief relief against his raw hands.
Then, without hesitation, he turned and began the grueling trek back to the base.
The buckets were heavier than ever, the water sloshing over the edges with every step. His muscles screamed, his vision blurred, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving.
Faster.
Stronger.
Don't stop.
Noah watched from the shade of a tree, his expression unreadable. But as Erin passed him, dragging the buckets with single-minded determination, something flickered in noah's eyes.
A smirk.
***
By noon, Erin had completed ten trips.
His body was a wreck—his arms numb, his legs shaking, his hands torn and bleeding. But he didn't rest.
Instead, he dropped to the ground and started push-ups again.
"One... two... three..."
Noah didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Erin pushed through, his movements sharp and controlled despite the exhaustion.
"One hundred ninety-eight... one hundred ninety-nine... two hundred."
He collapsed onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his entire body trembling.
Silence.
Then—
"Next training."
Noah's voice was quiet, but it carried a weight Erin had never heard before.
With a flick of his hand, the earth trembled. Sand swirled in the air, coalescing into a massive boulder that slammed into the ground with a thunderous boom.
Erin stared at it, then at Noah.
The older man was smiling. A real, genuine smile.
"Push it to the marker."
No hesitation. No complaints.
Erin placed his palms against the rough surface of the boulder, his muscles protesting as he braced himself.
Then he pushed.
And the boulder moved.
At first, the boulder rolled forward with deceptive ease, its rough surface grinding against the earth as Erin drove it forward with sheer force of will. His muscles burned, but the movement was steady—until suddenly, it wasn't.
The boulder slowed.
Then stopped.
Erin's breath came in ragged gasps as he planted his feet, his bare toes digging into the dirt for purchase. His arms trembled, veins bulging like ropes beneath his skin, his neck corded with strain.
"What the—?" His voice was a hoarse growl.
The ground beneath him had changed. No longer flat, it now sloped upward, the earth tilting against him as if the very land conspired to test his limits.
"Noah, you bastard—!" Erin snarled, casting a glare over his shoulder.
But Noah stood motionless, his face unreadable beneath the shadow of his sleeping bag's hood.
Every scream ripped from Erin's throat echoed through the trees, raw and primal. His muscles screamed in protest, his vision swimming with black spots as he forced the boulder upward, inch by agonizing inch. The veins in his arms and legs stood out like cracks in stone, threatening to burst under the pressure.
"MOVE—!"
With one final, earth-shaking roar, Erin threw every last shred of his strength into the push. The boulder lurched forward, rolling over the crest of the slope before settling heavily against the marker.
And then—collapse.
Erin hit the ground like a felled tree, his body spent, his lungs burning. The sun still blazed overhead, its light harsh against his sweat-slicked skin. Behind him, the land had flattened once more, as if the slope had never existed.
Noah's shadow fell over him.
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken realization.
Then—
"So it's true," Noah murmured, his voice low.
Erin didn't answer. He couldn't.
But Noah didn't need one.
What he had suspected since the day Erin survived that monster—what he had hoped—was now undeniable.
Erin had no magic.
But he had something rarer.
Something dangerous.
In this world, there were two kinds of people— those born with magic, and those without.
For the gifted, energy fueled their spells, their power flowing like rivers through their veins.
For the rest, energy was a dormant force—untapped.
But a few—a rare, formidable few—could channel that energy into their bodies.
Raw strength.
Unbreakable will.
A force beyond magic.
And Erin...
Erin was one of them.
***
The shock of cold water ripped Erin back to awareness.
He gasped, his eyes flying open as the icy deluge soaked through his clothes, his hair, his skin. Above him, Noah stood, the now-empty bucket dangling from his fingers.
"Are you going to sleep all day?" Noah barked, his voice sharp.
Erin blinked, disoriented. The forest around them was dark, the sun long gone, the air thick with the chirping of night insects.
"S-sorry! I didn't—" He scrambled to his feet, his body aching but somehow lighter, stronger.
Noah thrust the buckets into his hands.
"River. Now."
No argument. No hesitation.
Erin grabbed them and ran.
His legs carried him with newfound power, his breath steady despite the burn in his lungs. The water was fetched in moments, the buckets hauled back to the base with ease.
Noah followed, still wrapped in his sleeping bag.
But this time, his eyes were wide awake.