Noa took a heavy breath and ran out of the training ground. Only one thought kept spinning in his mind:
"I shouldn't be here… this is impossible. But there's no reason to deceive the officer either."
The officer watched Noa running away and thought to himself:
"Should I report this? Or did they send him here precisely because they already know?"
That entire night, Noa didn't close his eyes even once. Every time his eyelids grew heavy, the cold would pierce straight into his bones, and his whole body would begin to tremble. It felt as if even his breath was freezing in his throat, ready to choke him.
He desperately searched for anything that could bring him even the slightest warmth — anything at all. From the drawer of the small table, he pulled out an old, torn piece of cloth and threw it over his shoulders. He knew it wouldn't provide real warmth, but at least it would offer some protection against the merciless bite of the wind.
Even after wrapping himself in the thin cloth and returning to his bed, the shivering didn't stop. His body ached — especially his wrists, which had suffered the most strain.
He whispered to himself:
"How much longer will this last? How much longer do I have to endure this place? When will I die… perhaps then this pain will finally end…"
With these thoughts, he lay there trembling.
Finally, when dawn broke, a harsh cough woke him. A bitter taste burned in his throat. The illness had already taken root inside his body.
In the morning, he slowly opened his eyes and tried to stand up, but his body felt unbearably heavy, as if a stone were pressing down on him.
Yet the thought of skipping training never even crossed his mind. He rose slowly, took a sip of water from the cup on the table, and stepped outside. The cold draft in the corridor struck him like another blow.
With every step, he whispered to himself.
Noa grew weak and leaned against the wall.
He stood there for a moment, staring at his hands, then clenched them into fists, took a deep breath, pushed himself away from the wall, and continued forward. His footsteps echoed in the frozen corridor.
"Will I really surrender…?"
Six months passed.
When the next dawn came, Noa opened his eyes with renewed determination. The cold still seeped into his bones, but now he endured it with the habit he had gained. He was no longer the weak, trembling boy he once had been. Six months of relentless training had completely transformed him.
In the training ground, as usual, they spoke about him without restraint. But this time, Noa's attitude toward their words was different.
"I won't run from their words anymore. They call me weak, trash — yes, maybe I still am… but I don't know what the future holds," he thought. Yet the voice rising from his heart said something else: "One day, I will make them answer for all of this."
The commanding officer stepped forward and scanned the ranks.
"Fill the gaps in formation!"
Several soldiers stepped out and filled the three empty spots. The soldiers who had filled the ranks whispered among themselves.
"Only thirty-eight left from the original forty-seven…"
Their hands trembled as they lowered their heads.
"Are we going to die here too?" — such thoughts filled their minds.
The officer's gaze lingered on Noa, his thoughts tangled.
"The prince turned out to be surprisingly resilient… but how? Why is he still alive?"
For a brief moment, a rare smile appeared at the corner of the officer's lips.
His voice rang out with a command:
"Good. Listen carefully. Today we have a new test. New recruits from the Jogan tribe will arrive. You will greet them with respect."
"Understood, sir!" the soldiers replied in unison.
The officer continued:
"There will be no training today. They will arrive in two hours. You will meet them, learn who they are… and then you may rest."
This announcement spread like a wave of relief. Faces brightened, voices rose with joy.
"Thank you, officer!"
But Noa's thoughts turned inward:
"Jogan recruits… new rivals, or perhaps new allies. How will they treat me? Will they look at me the same way the others did? No… this time, I won't allow it."
He headed toward the library. From the other side, Garn glanced at him.
"If you keep fighting to survive, my desire to crush you only grows stronger."
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