By the fifth day, Axel stopped dreading the pain.
That realization unsettled him more than the pain ever had.
He woke before the alarm now, every morning the same way—eyes opening slowly, body stiff, muscles aching with a deep, constant soreness that never fully faded. He no longer rushed to move. He tested himself first. Fingers. Shoulders. Legs.
Pain answered.
But his body responded faster.
Where it once took minutes just to sit up, now it took seconds.
The blue screen flickered into view.
[Daily Conditioning — Day 5]
[Status: Damaged but Functional.]
"…Functional," Axel muttered.
He didn't smile.
He got up.
Training under Cross continued without mercy.
If anything, it became quieter.
Cross didn't shout. Didn't threaten. He adjusted drills in small, deliberate ways—longer gravity runs, shorter rest periods, slightly increased resistance. The kind of changes that didn't look dramatic but slowly crushed the unprepared.
Axel endured.
During gravity drills, his legs still shook—but they didn't buckle.
During endurance runs, his lungs burned—but he didn't stop.
During sparring, he still lost—every time—but he stayed standing longer with each bout.
Cross noticed.
He didn't say anything.
But his eyes lingered.
At night, when the dorm fell silent, Axel trained again.
Mana-weighted squats.
Isometric holds.
Slow, controlled movements that tore his muscles apart piece by piece.
The system never praised him.
It only adjusted the difficulty.
[Body Load Increased — Minor Increment.]
Axel stared at the screen once, breath heavy.
"…You're doing this on purpose."
No response.
He trained anyway.
By the sixth day, Axel realized something was wrong.
He wasn't fully recovering anymore.
The healers did their job—soft light sealing microtears, stabilizing his mana flow—but the fatigue stayed. Deep. Bone-level.
At first, that frightened him.
Then the system clarified.
[Recovery deficit detected.]
[Conclusion: Host adaptation relies on accumulated stress.]
"So… you want me tired," Axel whispered.
That explained everything.
During combat drills that day, Cross paired him against a solid B-rank trainee.
The man hesitated. "You sure you're cleared for this?"
Axel nodded.
The match began.
Axel lost.
But not instantly.
He blocked once.
Dodged twice.
Stayed upright long enough that the other trainee frowned in confusion.
When Axel finally fell, gasping, the man muttered, "…You move better than you should."
Axel didn't answer.
From the sidelines, Cross narrowed his eyes.
By the end of the first week, Axel stopped counting days.
His life shrank to a simple loop.
Train.
Endure.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Rumors started—quiet ones he never heard.
"The survivor's still here?"
"He hasn't collapsed yet."
"Why does he keep going?"
Axel didn't care.
He didn't have the energy to.
On the fourteenth day, the system updated him.
[Conditioning Phase: Ongoing.]
[Musculoskeletal resilience: Improved.]
[Mana circulation efficiency: Slight increase.]
Axel froze.
"…Mana too?"
That was new.
His breathing felt smoother during runs. His recovery between movements was faster. The pressure still hurt—but it didn't overwhelm him anymore.
His body was learning.
Cross called for a full-field test that day.
Timed laps.
Weighted movement.
Extended combat endurance.
Axel finished.
Not fast.
Not impressive.
But complete.
Cross stared at the results longer than necessary.
"No anomalies," he muttered. "…But you're not the same."
Pain didn't vanish during the second week.
It changed.
It became heat instead of agony. Pressure instead of tearing. Axel learned to recognize warning signs before collapse—adjusting posture instinctively, shifting weight mid-movement without thinking.
At night, the system responded differently now.
[Manual Training Accepted.]
[Difficulty Scaling: Dynamic.]
"…So you're adapting to me too."
The exercises grew smarter. Less brute force. More precision.
When he finished, he didn't collapse immediately anymore.
He sat.
Breathing.
Alive.
A healer stopped him one evening.
"Your recovery rate is unusual," she said gently. "Not dangerous. Just… rare."
Axel stiffened. "Is that bad?"
She smiled. "No. It means you're working very hard."
Axel bowed slightly and walked away.
She watched him go, frowning.
"…Strange kid."
Two weeks after the training began, Cross stopped the drills early.
That alone shocked everyone.
He walked to the center of the field, hands in his pockets.
"Axel Kaiser."
Axel stepped forward.
The air tightened.
Cross studied him closely.
"You're still weak," Cross said flatly.
Axel nodded.
"But you no longer move like someone who's about to break."
The field went silent.
Cross turned away.
"Training resumes tomorrow. No changes."
Then, quieter—
"…Keep this up."
That night, alone in his dorm, Axel sat on his bed, exhausted but steady.
The system appeared one last time.
[Conditioning Phase: Stabilized.]
[Host foundation established.]
Axel exhaled slowly.
"…So this is just the beginning."
Outside, the world still didn't know his name.
But inside his body—
Something solid had been built.