Ethan's arms started trembling by the time he reached the mark of 100 push-ups.
"Ninety-eight…Ninety-nine…Hundred…" Ethan said while gasping like a crazy being.
He collapsed on the dirt floor, like a man who was drowning in the thin air. Sweat started to trail down through his cheek, and the ground felt like it was vibrating under his chest.
From the platform above, Sir Vandelion's voice came, full of authority like that of a lion. "Is that it huh, boy? You you think knights are forged through pity? If you can't handle just these mere push-ups then you should just go back to crying in slums with the beggars."
The other knights laughed at him between themselves, making fun of Ethan.
"fuck… I can't fail this. Not here at least, I'll do hard because I don't want to live that life again."
A red notification blinked in front of his eyes:
[Warning: Quest Failure Consequence – Main Quest Progression Halted]
[Failure to ascend in class will restrict future Dominion Authority access.]
Ethna's eyes started to widen because of the shock. That was his system telling him that he'll get
Thrown out of this world if he fails the quest.
He started to remember it.
That dark little room, the cold nights, his dusty and old PC, his failure of a job interview, the empty ramen cup that he dropped and never picked from the floor and the life of a virgin.
He remembered all of it. All of it.
"I used to be a loser… a complete nobody back there." He muttered under his breath. "But not anymore… not in this word at least."
He pushed his arms against the ground and created a force to get back up. His muscles were screaming because of the agony. His heartbeat was drumming in his ears. 'Two hundred… Three hundred."
Each push-up felt like a mountain collapsing on his back. He bit his lip until it bled, and still, he kept going.
The knights around him had stopped mocking. Now, they just watched.
"Six hundred… seven hundred…"
His sweat had drenched the earth beneath him. Every limb was numb, but he kept counting.
"Nine-ninety-eight… nine-ninety-nine…"
He gritted his teeth, face contorted with pain—
"One. Thousand!"
He collapsed again, this time his back on the ground, looking at the sky. But he didn't smile at all. He didn't even try to relax.
He wasn't done yet. Not until he completes his task.
***
After a while:
***
The sun had started setting below the walls of the knight's fortress. Ethan stood—barely—soaked deeply in his sweat.
The other knights were now quiet, there was no more laughter. Just silence, and maybe respect.
Sir Dandelion started to walk forward with a call and a composed look on his face.
"You did well, kid." He didn't say it kindly. His way of saying was as same as a blacksmith testing the steel. Not praising— just acknowledging that it survived the fire.
From a sword rack that was next to him, placed in a slanting position, taking support from the wall to stay intact. He pulled the wooden sword out of the rack and casually tossed it towards Ethan.
"Now, you just have to do one thing and that is to land a clean and nice strike on me," Vandellion said eyes narrowed like a beast preparing to test a cub.
"Do that… and you'll earn your right to kneel as a knight of the empire and you'll be one of us."
Ethan picked up the wooden sword from the ground, chest still heavy and pounding because of the last training session.
His knuckles were scrapped and blood flowing out of them—heavily wounded.
He grasped all of his strength and pushed his body to get in the position.
His hands started to grab the hilt even tighter. His back started to straighten as he got in the right posture.
It felt like the wind slowed down. The sun was behind Vandellion like a god's halo.
Ethan thought, hands gripping the hilt even harder. 'Okay, just one clean hit and I am good to go.'
'Let's fucking do it and get the knight class.'