At first light, cadets were expected to be outside, in the training grounds at the exact same time every day.
Tardiness was considered inexcusable and resulted in harsh physical punishment and cleaning duties for a week.
Most of the cadets were outside, in the sandpit, exactly when the clock struck 6 a.m.
The only one who trudged behind was the new kid, Solomon. His busted lip and wobbly walk were great enough indicators as to why.
Their instructor, Knight Emmanuel, wasn't surprised by this. He knew what kind of place the Olethros house was.
The most dominant powers would always try their best to suppress those underneath them. Simultaneously, everyone was hoping to become the vassal of the young masters.
No one was going to miss an opportunity to try to make Solomon look unfit.
Emmanuel actually felt for the kid. But this was the world he had decided to step into.
"Since it's your first day, you get one warning. You're late again, you're on outhouse duty."
Solomon gnashed his teeth at the incredulity of it all. He thought that these martial families were supposed to be honorable.
He wasn't going to shed a tear when this entire place came crumbling down. He might even pull down his pants to pee when it happened.
"Enough dallying. Hit the path." Emmanuel hooked a finger over his shoulder.
The cadets moved to their starting places on the outer walls of the sand pit. Solomon clumsily followed behind.
In the mornings, cadets run a total of three miles before breakfast. Those who fall behind are usually swiftly admonished and even struck across their legs with thin branches.
Stopping for any reason results in even harsher punishment. Nothing can get someone out of running aside from an order from the patriarch or an amputation.
Solomon was running a whole thirty paces behind everyone else, but he was still running.
Most of his concentration was centered on controlling his breathing so that he wouldn't aggravate his broken ribs.
Any time he felt like he was going to lose consciousness, he bit down on his lip to keep himself from fainting again. He had never tasted as much blood in his entire life as he had in his first two days here.
As expected of knight cadets, everyone finished their run in around forty-five minutes, and Emmanuel dismissed them to the mess hall for breakfast.
Solomon was approaching an hour and thirty, and he still wasn't done.
His shirt was soaked through with sweat and clung to every inch of his torso. Even the indent of his broken ribs had been visible.
The sun had already risen. The heat was steadily rising with every minute that passed, only making this task more and more difficult.
Finally, his instructor stood up when he couldn't stand to watch anymore.
"Stop, just... stop." Emmanuel sighed.
Solomon immediately doubled over. His arm went to his side as he desperately tried to suck down air and ignore the pain.
He felt bits of splintered ribs digging into his lungs, and his eyes bulged outward.
"Lie down, cadet. It'll be a bad look for you if you die before you even pick up a sword."
Solomon didn't lie down so much as he collapsed. He only maintained enough of his consciousness to know when Emmanuel pulled up his shirt.
"P-Pervert...!" He accused with a gasp.
"I will hit you in your face. I do not care that you're a child."
Knight Emmanuel took a look at Solomon's ribs and hummed. He also remembered his first day of training where another cadet broke his nose for looking at him incorrectly.
Solomon was so thin that Emmanuel could see the pieces of bone that were in the wrong places.
By pinching him over his skin, the knight moved the bone fragments into their correct positions.
The experience was agonizing for Solomon. He considered biting his tongue off so that he wouldn't scream.
When it was over, Emmanuel reached into the satchel on his back and pulled out a small vial filled with a glowing blue liquid.
"Drink this."
If he thought it would alleviate the pain, Solomon would have consumed anything he was given.
As he swallowed down the blue liquid, he realized it was the same kind of concoction that Raizel had given him yesterday to fix his back.
A heat settled in his stomach, followed by a dull, burning itch.
It was uncomfortable, sure. But after the last two hours, it barely even registered.
After a few more seconds, Solomon felt as light as air. No, he felt better than before, in fact. Even his fatigue had been washed away like it was a trick of the light.
He sat up in awe of the miracle of potion concocting and alchemy.
"Thank you." He lowered his head.
Emmanuel didn't look all that moved.
"What the hell is the young master thinking...? Bringing a mage into a swordsmanship family.." He shook his head.
Solomon blinked innocently. He gave no indication that he understood what Emmanuel was talking about.
The knight stood up and started walking towards the barracks again.
"No more running for you for a while. We're switching your regimen around."
"What!?"
Jumping to his feet, Solomon ran in front of Emmanuel and used his body to block the knight's path.
"I can't be the only one who doesn't have to run! I'll look-"
"Cadet, you have almost no body fat or muscle mass. You're showing up so late in the semester that I don't have a choice but to train you differently."
Solomon compared his body to those of every other cadet he had seen in the barracks. There was a clear imbalance.
Even the smallest kid was a head taller than him and had arms that were twice as thick.
The cadets had already had months of rigorous resistance training and eating nutritional, calorie dense meals three times a day.
They were on different levels. Trying to do what the other kids were doing wouldn't help Solomon, it would only hurt him.
Especially with his innate mage's body diminishing his aptitude for physical exercise.
And yet, Solomon didn't want to stop running.
He hated this place and everyone inside of it. But he didn't just want to see it destroyed.
He wanted to break the foot of whoever tried to step on him.
"I don't want to look weak. I'll do whatever you say, so please… help me." Solomon said seriously.
Emmanuel stared at the boy for a long time. There was something commendable about his determination, even if Emmanuel didn't understand it.
He turned his back on the kid and resumed his walk toward the barracks.
"…Dumbass."
Solomon didn't hear a no.