Victor's legs pumped rhythmically behind another boy, the world around him a blur of sweat and dust. The ground beneath their feet echoed with the sound of dozens of pounding steps, all circling the massive coliseum-like arena.
Beside him, Caelum ran effortlessly. His breathing was steady. No sweat. Minimal effort. It was almost insulting.
But considering the power he had it was understandable.
Victor's mind drifted back to their conversation the night before. He immediately pushed the thought from his
mind. In the end, it was concluded that they were nowhere near ready to make a move. Especially not him. He needed to get stronger.
So why were they running today?
Well, according to the guard who led them out that morning, this was one of the few days where Victor would be training with the rest of the group. No Jeffrey. No personal torture— uh, training.
When they arrived, the trainers had barked orders and told them to start jogging. No time limit. No breaks. Just... run.
An hour had passed since.
Victor was still okay, but he could feel the burn beginning to set in. His calves ached. His lungs stung slightly with every breath. But he kept going.
Along the way, he also learned something else.
The other boys had it rough.
Whenever someone slacked, slowed down, or—god forbid—collapsed, they were whipped without hesitation. Brutally. Some screamed. Others simply went limp and were dragged off.
Victor had managed to avoid punishment so far, and he had no plans to find out what those lashes felt like.
Suddenly, the air seemed to shift. It was like there was a tangible weight in the atmosphere.
Victor looked up.
There, in the audience stands high above, sat the Baron. A pleased and prideful expression sat on his face, watching them like a farmer admiring his cattle.
Then another figure entered the arena, Jeffrey.
He walked with purpose, stopping near the center, his voice boomed.
"The last few still standing by noon will eat lunch and dinner with extra servings," he announced. "And they'll be exempted from training tomorrow."
There was a murmur of hope among the boys.
Jeffrey raised a hand. "But for those thinking there are no consequences to giving up... the first five to fall will get fifty lashes. No lunch. Just your usual dinner."
He paused for effect.
"And after that, anyone who drops before noon will get whipped depending on how many are still standing. If you're the sixth to fall, and fifteen are still running, that's fifteen lashes."
Victor winced.
Then—
Ding!
His system responded instantly.
> Subquest II: Don't stop jogging until noon.
Reward: +1 Endurance
Victor looked up from the glowing runes with a grin.
Challenge accepted.
Beside him, Caelum frowned. It was subtle, but clear.
And Victor could guess why.
'He probably doesn't want to stand out', Victor mused. But the situation didn't exactly leave room for subtlety. It was either Caelum actually put in effort to jog till noon—therefore attracting attention to himself, which he was clearly trying to avoid, or he feigned exhaustion and collapsed well before noon, suffering punishment instead. Victor was a bit confused by this, though. He was fairly certain the Baron had eyes on Caelum.
'Curious… but ultimately, not my business' he cast aside those thoughts and focused on his current task, since at the of the day, he didn't have the full picture.
And so he jogged.
More time passed. Victor couldn't track how long exactly—there were no clocks, and this was his first real time seeing Veridith's sky.
It wasn't too different from Earth's. A blue expanse with a bright sun, though this one looked ten times larger. Maybe it was closer. Or maybe it was just that intense. Either way, it was hot.
Based on its position, and what little he remembered of astronomy, Victor guessed they had a little more than two hours left.
He thought the run would be easy thanks to his level-ups. But clearly, that wasn't the case.
There were other boys—besides Caelum—keeping up with relative ease.
Victor gritted his teeth and kept moving.
Sometimes he'd think about giving up. Just collapsing into the dirt and taking the lashes. But then his mind would wander to his old life.
Back to his cold office. The gray cubicles. The lifeless monitors. The people who never looked you in the eye.
He remembered the monotony of his former life. The dead-end days. The lifeless routines. The cold, blinking monitors and the hollow greetings in fluorescent-lit offices.
'No!', he growled inwardly.
Left leg. Right leg. Left leg. Right…
All he saw now was the quest.
Another challenge to overcome.
And the sounds--the cries, the screaming, the harsh cracks of whips against skin. They echoed in the background like a cruel reminder. A reminder of what would happen if he stopped.
Another push of motivation.
Compared to that... this pain had purpose.
And then—
He stopped.
Not because he wanted it to. But because everyone else that had been jogging had.
Victor blinked, his breath was ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly. He looked around. The others weren't better off.
Only three others were left.
Caelum.
A dark-haired boy with dead pitch black eyes.
And a tall, bald-headed boy with a build like a boulder.
'That's it?' Victor thought, amazed that he had endured till the end. He almost couldn't believe it.
The trainers barked again.
"All of you—line up!"
The rest of the boys were shuffled out. Some limping. Others crying. The air was heavy with exhaustion and fear.
Victor, Caelum, and the other two were separated, taken by another guard.
Victor didn't even get a chance to glance back at the Baron. The man had already left.
As they were walking out, a figure approached them—an older boy. Not from their batch. Likely a seasoned slave who'd already gone through similar training.
He walked straight to the dark-haired kid and grabbed him by the wrist.
"Hey," he said in a low, threatening voice. "You're getting extra servings. And I'm starving. You'll give me some, right?"
The dark-haired boy just nodded quickly, eyes downcast.
As the older boy was about to leave, probably sensing a gaze on him, he turned. And his eyes locked onto Victor.
Victor didn't flinch.
And the older male didn't like that.
He took a step forward—
Only to be cut off by Caelum.
"Go back where you came from," Caelum said in a calm and low voice.
The older boy hesitated, staring at Caelum. A quiet threat lingered behind Caelum's words, even though his tone was composed. The tension in the air seemed to thicken as the seconds passed.
After a long moment, the boy scoffed and walked away.
Victor glanced at Caelum.
Caelum didn't say anything.
He didn't need to. He just moved to the exit of the coliseum.
Victor let out a dry chuckle and followed after him.
---
In a dark room.
It was silent. Almost eerily so.
Then the door at the far end creaked open, casting a sliver of light into the room.
Jeffrey stepped through. The room's shadows danced as he entered, revealing a figure seated at a desk, reading a thick leather-bound book beside a large king-sized bed.
The Baron.
It was weird to think that someone could read in complete darkness, maybe even funny. But Jeffery didn't dare to laugh. The Baron didn't look up immediately, still flipping through the pages with quiet grace.
"I'm impressed," he finally said, voice smooth. "Did he always have such stamina?"
"No," Jeffrey replied without hesitation.
The Baron's brow lifted. He looked up from his reading and studied Jeffrey with interest.
"When we first started training, he was weaker than the average slave," Jeffrey continued. "Looked like he'd die from the first session. But after just one day… his body had already adapted".
"It was too fast" he added with a slight edge in his tone.
"It's either he was born gifted and was just malnourished, or…" he hesitated, then added, "he has a high-ranked physique."
He didn't dare say divine. Not yet.
The Baron smirked.
"You're wondering if he has a divine physique, aren't you?" he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Well, that's not possible. If he did, I'd know."
Jeffrey just stayed silent.
"Keep observing," the Baron said coolly. "For now."
Jeffrey nodded once. "What about the others? Especially the Virell boy?"
"Keep an eye on them. Especially Virell," the Baron said, his gaze sharpening. "He'll be a useful asset. And an even more valuable hostage."
Jeffrey gave a slow nod, then turned and exited the room.
Darkness reclaimed the chamber.
Only the flicker of candlelight remained.
But in that brief moment, a glint of cold calculation passed through the Baron's eyes.
---