It was the following day, and Nova was preparing for his first day of training. He had spent the previous evening thinking about the tournament and the exciting life he had mapped out when he fell from the Inner Heaven. Now that he had an opportunity to make something of himself as a mortal, he had no intention of wasting it.
He was determined to get stronger and eventually awaken, both for his own sake and so that he could support the kittens and give them a good, easy life. They were small creatures, entirely dependent on him, and the responsibility pleased him more than he had expected.
Of course, the tournament would not be easy. There would be countless people competing for the same opportunity, many of whom had spent years preparing for it. Some might possess a tremendous amount of potential, equal to his or even surpassing what he had in his current mortal body.
At the same time, the thought of facing opponents who might be stronger than him sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't quite fear. It was anticipation, the unfamiliar excitement of entering a competition without already knowing how it would end.
He began by assessing his body. He was lean, but his muscles lacked the strength and endurance he would need. Even after several days on Earth, he could still feel a strange exhaustion lingering in his limbs. Getting accustomed to his mortal body was proving more difficult than he had imagined.
He stretched his arms and shoulders, then bent forward to loosen his legs. The pull in his tendons felt unusually sharp. It was a strange experience for someone who had once moved without needing to consider muscles, joints, or the possibility of injury.
The tournament was only a fortnight away. Two weeks sounded like enough time when spoken aloud, but Nova understood how quickly the days would pass. If he intended to improve, he needed a plan rather than a series of random exercises.
He knew the tournament was meant for people with the potential to awaken. That suggested it might involve more than physical strength. There could be tests of instinct, mental insight, or even knowledge about dungeons and abilities. He had no way of knowing what the organizers would ask of him.
So, without a clear understanding of the challenges ahead, Nova decided to return to the basics: strength, speed, endurance, and mental clarity. He would study later, just as he had told Talia, to understand how the mortal realm worked, how the guild operated, and what governed the tournament.
He started with the most fundamental exercises used in calisthenics and basic strength training. Push-ups seemed like a reasonable beginning. The kittens were sleeping together in their cardboard box, so he moved to a clear patch of wooden floor and lowered himself into position.
His palms pressed against the cool wood. He adjusted the distance between his hands, took a deep breath, and began.
One. Two. Three.
The first few repetitions were manageable. He focused on keeping his back straight and lowering his chest without collapsing. But by the tenth push-up, his arms were trembling, and his breathing had become noticeably heavier.
He frowned at the floor beneath him.
Ten? I'm already struggling at ten?
That was almost insulting. In the Inner Heaven, exertion had rarely meant anything to him. Here, a simple exercise used by ordinary mortals was enough to make his body protest.
Nova gritted his teeth and continued. Every repetition became slower than the last, and by the twentieth, his arms finally gave out. His chest dropped to the floor, and he remained there for several seconds, breathing hard.
"Pathetic," he muttered, although there was no self-pity in his voice.
He rested for thirty seconds before trying again. This time, he managed twenty-two push-ups before his arms gave out. Two additional repetitions were hardly a remarkable achievement, but Nova still felt a small sense of satisfaction.
"Twenty-two," he said quietly. "Better than twenty."
A faint sound came from the cardboard box. One of the kittens, a tiny black one with white paws, had woken up and was peering over the edge at him. Its eyes followed his movements with obvious curiosity.
"What? You've never seen someone train before?"
The kitten blinked and continued staring.
"Well, get used to it. You're going to see a lot more of this."
He pushed himself to his feet, although his arms felt weak enough to make the effort uncomfortable. Next came squats. He didn't particularly want to do them because he was already tired, but avoiding an exercise merely because it was unpleasant would defeat the purpose of training.
I asked for this, he reminded himself. I wanted to know what it felt like.
He planted his feet, lowered his body, and began the squats. His legs were slightly stronger than his arms, although not by much. He powered through three sets of fifteen, resting briefly between them. By the end, his thighs burned and his knees felt unsteady.
Lunges came next, followed by sit-ups. He moved methodically, concentrating on his form and breathing. Whenever his movements became careless, he slowed down rather than forcing another repetition. He had to improve his willpower, but he also needed to learn the difference between effort and recklessness.
By the time he finished the circuit, sweat was running down his temples. His muscles ached with an unfamiliar, satisfying pain, and he checked the clock above the door.
7:30 AM.
He had been training for about an hour. The previous evening, he had talked about exercising for five to ten hours a day, and a part of him still wanted to reach that number immediately. But his body had already shown him the danger of pushing too far on the first day.
"Nine more hours," he muttered, then shook his head. "No. Not today. I need to build up to it."
Nova walked into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and drank slowly. Talia had brought him food the previous night, and some of it remained in the refrigerator. He took out the rice and chicken, warmed a portion, and sat down to eat.
As he ate, he began mapping out his routine more carefully. Mornings would be dedicated to strength and conditioning. Afternoons would focus on agility and reaction time, while evenings would be for studying. He didn't have a phone or a computer yet, but Talia had mentioned a library nearby.
He would have to do things the old-fashioned way.
When he finished eating, he checked the kittens. Their water bowl was full, and they were tucked together inside their cardboard box. The little black kitten had already fallen asleep again, apparently satisfied that Nova's strange movements were over.
"Lucky little things," he murmured. "You get to sleep while I work."
He grabbed a leather jacket Talia had given him, slipped it on, and headed outside. He remembered passing a small park on his way to the apartment, with a running path, open space, and several benches. It seemed like the perfect place for sprints and bodyweight exercises.
The morning sunlight caught his crimson hair as he stepped onto the street. His eyes, equally crimson, were unusual, but nobody seemed particularly concerned. In a world where awakened abilities and dungeons had become part of everyday life, strange appearances were hardly worth staring at.
The air was crisp, and a cool breeze brushed against his face. Summer was beginning to give way to the next season. It felt pleasant against his warm skin, especially after the exercises he had already completed.
The park was about a ten-minute walk away. Nova used the journey to observe the city. Cars honked in traffic, people hurried toward their workplaces, and street vendors called out to passing customers. Some people looked half asleep, while others moved as though they were already late for something important.
But he had to adapt. He was no longer a distant observer of their struggles. He was part of the same world now, subject to its inconveniences and limitations.
At the park, he found the running path, a loop stretching approximately a quarter of a mile. A few people were already exercising. Nova placed his jacket on an empty bench and watched them briefly before beginning his own warm-up.
He started with a slow jog. His sneakers struck the pavement at an even pace, and he concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. After two loops, he increased his speed, breaking into a sprint for thirty seconds before walking for a minute to recover.
He repeated the cycle ten times.
By the final sprint, his lungs were burning and his legs were protesting with every step. He slowed to a walk, drawing in several deep breaths. Sweat had begun soaking through his shirt, and he could feel his heartbeat pounding against his chest.
So this is what exhaustion feels like when you can't simply make it disappear.
While catching his breath, he noticed a group of children playing nearby. They were chasing one another through the grass in what appeared to be a game of tag. Their movements were irregular and unpredictable. One child would run straight ahead before suddenly changing direction, while another would stop without warning and dart between two trees.
Agility, he thought. That's what I need.
Strength and speed would be useful in a fight, but he couldn't depend on either one alone. If he wanted to face stronger opponents, he needed to become comfortable changing direction, maintaining balance, and reacting when something unexpected happened.
He looked around the park and began arranging an imaginary obstacle course in his mind. A few trees would serve as markers, with benches and low branches forcing him to alter his path. It wasn't a proper training facility, but it was enough for a beginning.
He started running through the course, weaving left and right, dodging around trees, and hopping over low obstacles. His first attempts were clumsy. Several times, his feet failed to follow the direction he wanted to take, and he had to catch himself before losing his balance.
"Come on," he muttered, turning back to the starting point. "Again."
He tried another pass, then another, paying closer attention to his footing. His body was still unfamiliar with sudden changes in direction, but repetition gradually made the movements feel less awkward. He couldn't claim to have mastered anything, and he knew better than to expect a dramatic improvement after a single morning.
By the time he finished, the sun had risen considerably higher. His shirt was soaked with sweat, his muscles ached, and even walking toward a nearby bench required more effort than he wanted to admit.
He checked his watch.
10:15 AM.
He had spent more than two hours at the park, and he was already feeling the strain. He sat on a bench and took a long sip from the bottle of water Talia had bought for him, then watched the park grow busier around him.
He looked down at his trembling hands. There was no divine strength waiting to restore him, no effortless solution to his exhaustion. If he wanted his mortal body to become stronger, he would have to train, recover, and repeat the process until the results began to show.
After a good, long break, Nova finally rose from the bench. His legs were stiff, and he stretched them carefully before picking up his jacket and starting the walk back to the apartment. He would rest some more, eat, and spend a little time with the kittens before heading to the library to study anything and everything he needed to know.
For now, he had done enough.