The Monster King's Legacy-Chapter 75: Support

He chose a secluded area near the edge of the forest, bringing only a wooden training sword and his determination. Rynne had set up several dummies for sparring practice earlier, and now they stood waiting for Lance to utilize them to the fullest potential.

"Alright," Lance muttered to himself, gripping the sword tightly. "Let’s see what this body can do."

He threw himself into the training with everything he had, swinging the sword repeatedly until his arms burned and his muscles screamed for rest. Sweat poured down his face as he forced himself to keep going, ignoring the sharp ache in his shoulders and back. This was not an unfamiliar feeling however, and he would normally heal himself by now or stop to rest, so instead of doing that, he decided to push himself even further.

When his legs grew tired to the point where they gave out, he pushed himself back up, refusing to stop.

Hours passed, and Lance’s movements grew sluggish. His breaths came in ragged gasps as his chest burned and his vision blurred from exhaustion. Finally, as he swung the sword one last time, he stumbled and fell to his knees, his body trembling uncontrollably.

’I’m going to die.’ The thought crossed his mind.

He summoned his healing magic, the familiar warmth spreading through his limbs and his injuries. Within moments, the pain subsided, replaced by a faint sense of renewal. He felt a bit sore, but that didn’t last.

Lying on the ground, his breath unnaturally stabilized as he stared into the night sky, ’near death, huh? Perhaps, that was not enough either.’

Lance stood again, his grip tightening on the sword. His body was still a bit sore, like it hadn’t fully adapted to the new state, but he felt something else beneath the exhaustion—a spark of potential, waiting to be ignited. At least, that was what it felt like.

"Again," he said to himself, determination blazing in his golden eyes.

…

Unbeknownst to Lance, his efforts had not gone unnoticed. Rynne, Zarra, and Mira stood at a distance, watching his grueling training in silence.

"What is he doing?" Mira asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Pushing himself too hard," Rynne replied, though there was a note of admiration in her tone. "He’s trying to get stronger. But this… it’s unbelievable."

Zarra smirked, leaning against a tree. "To be ready to go so far…"

Despite their worries, none of them approached, sensing that this was something Lance needed to do on his own… something he had decided. Well, Mira did try, but she was stopped. It was for the best that they didn’t interrupt him.

…

The next morning, Lance woke with every muscle in his body screaming in protest. But instead of discouragement, he felt a strange sense of accomplishment. He had thought of something. If his ability only accelerated the healing process of his body, then perhaps it would work, but if it simply returned his body to how it was, maybe that wouldn’t do much. Because of that, he decided to only heal himself half way… he didn’t want to work for no reason and without gain.

When next the dragon returned, it observed him with a knowing gaze.

"You have begun," the dragon said.

"It’s brutal," Lance admitted, though his tone was resolute. "But I’ll keep going."

’Keep going? Never thought I’d meet another person with such extreme mentality…’ The dragon thought to itself.

Aelyndra nodded. "Good. Persevere, Lance. For strength forged in struggle is strength that endures."

…

Following his first training, Lance began his second with a series of grueling exercises. Going straight into practice appeared to take more time, so his idea was to tire himself to some extent before he started that.

"I can just run the course of the scouts, one lap should do if I go full speed off the bat." Lance thought out loud.

Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com.

Following that, he started practice with basic combat drills—swinging the wooden sword with all his strength until his arms felt like lead. Even this took too long, giving him an idea. If he could get Kaeli to make him a heavy blunt sword, it would be effective for his training.

Lance continued until his muscles burned and he felt his body deteriorate. Somehow, in one part of his mind, he felt like he was suffering himself and it would yield no result, but then, he had to push himself. There was no way he would know without trying after all. When he could no longer do anymore, he healed himself, the warmth of his magic soothing his body and renewing his strength.

"Again," Lance whispered, pushing himself to his feet after collapsing from exhaustion. Slowly, he was beginning to know where the real limit was going to be, in his mind, not body. His magic only went so far.

The cycle continued—train until his body failed, heal, and repeat. He didn’t feel any increase in his strength, but he believed there was improvement, no matter how minute.

The days progressed like that, with Lance training everyday. On the third day of his private training, Rynne approached him. She stood at the edge of the clearing, watching as Lance struggled to lift himself off the ground after another round of drills. She had been watching him, but now she decided to approach him directly.

"Are you alright, Lance?" she asked in a concerned tone, though it didn’t sip too much.

Lance wiped the sweat from his brow, meeting her gaze. "I’m fine." He said, healing himself up to a level where he could move again.

Rynne’s jaw tightened as she watched him struggle to get up, before helping him to sit. "You don’t need to break yourself to prove anything, you know?" Rynne said, her voice coating some internal concern, and it sounded even sad.

Lance finished healing himself first under seconds, then following a sigh, he looked at her before breaking eye contact. "It’s not about proving anything," he said firmly. "Whether I like it or not, a time will come where I need the strength. It’s better to be prepared than sorry."

Rynne studied him for a moment, then sighed, her expression softening only a little bit. "You’re right. Alright, then. I’ll join you."

"Really? You don’t…" Lance stopped midway seeing the expression on Rynne’s face, "alright, let’s begin."

Rynne joined Lance’s training sessions sporadically, both of them drilling each other. After they had pushed themselves to the extremes, Rynne was the first to fall almost half an hour before Lance.

Rynne groaned as Lance extended a hand to heal her. "You’re insane, Lance. You know that?" She said, feeling as though she would die before she returned to peak form.

"Maybe," Lance replied, his tone unwavering but a bit teasing.