My life in the underground hideout was a constant cycle of pain, exhaustion, and incremental progress. Every morning, the first thing I felt was the ache in my muscles, a deep, persistent throb that spoke of the previous day's brutal training. Herald, my master, was relentless. He pushed me beyond anything I thought possible, beyond my physical limits, beyond my mental endurance.
The hideout itself was spartan. A few rough cots, a table, and a small area for training. The air was cool and damp, smelling of earth and old stone. There was no natural light, only the flickering glow of mana-infused crystals embedded in the ceiling, casting long, dancing shadows. Mudrel was often there, working on his weapons or tending to Bella, the cat beast-kin. Bella was still shy, often hiding behind Mudrel, but she had grown accustomed to my presence, sometimes even venturing out to rub against my leg.
