"Nice to meet you. I'm Elsie. During this training, you are my responsibility. I only have one message—don't be afraid to get hurt."
To Elsie, those words might sound ordinary, especially for people who are already strong. But they were terrifying for Booza, who was still learning how to fight. His body hadn't fully recovered yet—still covered in wounds. Even his head was still wrapped in bandages.
And it wasn't just Booza in that condition. His friends were the same. Everyone was still wrapped in bandages. It was a pitiful sight.
But they couldn't afford to be soft. They had to train and become better fighters. In the Kingdom of Luzia, it was all about battle. If you're weak, you must be ready to die.
The group from the outskirts stood in five rows. Booza was in the middle, right in front of Elsie. Then, a man from the far-left row raised his hand, trying to ask Elsie a question.
"Do we have any chance of survival?"
Elsie turned to him and flashed a sweet smile. She looked friendly, but her words cut deep.
"You do! If you're strong. A week from now is the combat arena. The rules say no killing—unless your opponent is from the outskirts."
This was yet another form of injustice in the Kingdom of Luzia. Whatever this combat arena would be like, Booza and his friends could only bow their heads and swallow their fear.
Then Elsie led everyone from the outskirts to an abandoned military barracks at the far back of the Luzia royal palace complex.
The kingdom was vast, and they had to walk for several minutes to get there. Elsie led the way in silence. Everyone was quiet, heads lowered.
But suddenly, Booza picked up his pace to catch up to Elsie.
"Excuse me, may I ask something? Is it just straight ahead to the barracks?"
Elsie turned to him with a quirky expression, like she was thinking hard. Then she blinked a few times.
"Yes!"
"I'd like to run there ahead of you. I want to start my training."
Elsie nodded. A second later, Booza was sprinting ahead, leaving his friends behind. They all looked surprised, but Elsie quickly explained that Booza wanted to begin training early.
"You better get stronger, lazybones!" someone shouted.
Booza smiled when he heard that. "Just watch, you'll be amazed by my strength. Too bad I can't tell you about it just yet."
Booza kept running, and unexpectedly, his stamina felt better than before. Perhaps it was the effect of his recent fight that slightly boosted his attributes. Not to mention, the awakening of his magical power had also increased his stamina.
It didn't take long before Booza reached the military barracks Elsie had mentioned. The place was abandoned—unmaintained and nearly falling apart. But there were still some old training tools, including ones for muscle strengthening.
Booza approached a punching bag. While waiting for Elsie and the others, he practiced his punches. He quickly threw a strike at the bag.
Both of his fists were clenched tightly. He imagined the punching bag was a powerful enemy. Booza began striking—left, right, from above, below—like he was hitting every part of a real opponent's body.
Sweat started pouring from his body. Booza was getting tired, his breath growing heavy. The muscles in both his arms twitched as if about to explode like a grenade. But he didn't want to stop—not yet. In his count, he hadn't thrown a hundred punches.
He kept forcing himself even though his punches were weakening. Finally, he reached the 100-punch mark.
[Congratulations. You've reached 100 punches today.]
As a transparent cyan screen appeared, Elsie and the others arrived at the barracks. Elsie smiled in satisfaction, seeing Booza already exhausted. His dedication to training was admirable.
"Alright! You can all train however you want now. Pick any weapon from the barracks. You have 30 minutes."
Everyone scattered from their lines, heading into the barracks to grab weapons. Some of them used makeshift training tools just like Booza.
Elsie herself sat on a worn-out sofa near the punching bag where Booza trained.
"You're training so hard. Who are you trying to kill?"
Booza was now working on his kicks. His right and left legs took turns hitting the bag hard, making it swing like cotton in the air.
"No one! I don't want to die young."
He kept kicking, even imitating the moves he'd read in novels—front kicks, high kicks, side kicks, low sweeps, and spinning kicks. His muscles twitched again—a sign that he was exhausted. But Booza refused to stop. He kept striking the bag with his legs. Soon, he completed his set.
[Congratulations. You've reached 100 kicks today.]
Meanwhile, the training area grew noisier. Booza and the others were getting more fired up. Some were even sparring—barehanded or using weapons like swords. The sound of clashing metal echoed loudly.
"Hey, why'd you hurt me? This is just training!" yelled a skinny man, upset that his partner slashed his arm with a sword.
"Remember what our mentor said: don't be afraid to get hurt," replied the man responsible for the injury.
A bit of a ruckus broke out. Both men looked angry. Elsie watched them and sighed. Suddenly, she darted between them. Now, Elsie was standing right in the middle.
"This isn't the time to fight."
"Training's over. Next up—you'll fight me one by one. Give it your all."
"You're my opponent," Elsie said, locking eyes with the man who had injured his friend. She glanced behind him and motioned for the wounded man to step aside.
Booza was impressed by the man standing before Elsie. Even though he was about to face her first, his eyes showed no fear. He looked brave.
"What kind of power does he have?"
The man got into position, ready to attack. Slowly, the muscles on his body swelled. Elsie remained calm, even as the man's transformation seemed terrifying—especially to Booza.
"So, your power is muscle?"
"Yes! I'm a stone laborer. That's why I've got super-strong muscles. I can crush your bones with a single punch."
He charged at Elsie, swinging his fist straight at her face. But Elsie only smiled.
"Too slow."
She swiftly dodged, then struck his upper arm hard. Immediately, she followed with a powerful uppercut to his jaw. The man dropped instantly.
"No matter how strong you are—if you're slow, it's useless."
"Next—your turn!" Elsie said, pointing to a large man.
Now it was his turn. But again, Elsie defeated him easily. One by one, every man who stepped up was taken down. It was as if they had no chance to win.
"And now, you," said Elsie, pointing at Booza, who was still sitting cross-legged, calmly enjoying the fights.