The iron rings felt wrong the moment Kael fastened them.
It was not just their weight. Twenty kilos on each limb was something the body could, in theory, adapt to. But this was different. The rings dragged at him in a way that made every movement feel delayed, as if the world itself resisted him.
When he stood, his balance shifted. His center of gravity no longer belonged to him.
When he took a step, the ground felt uncertain.
"This is ridiculous," Kael muttered, testing his footing. "Can't we just do some dumbbells? Weight lifting?"
Behind him, the old man said nothing.
Kael stepped toward the edge of the cliff, the familiar drop now seeming far more hostile than before. The path he had learned over weeks of struggle no longer felt reliable. Every hold, every ledge, had to be reconsidered under the burden of the added weight.
"You said two hours," Kael called over his shoulder.
"That's right."
