16 - Training Begins

The house was surprisingly well-kept inside—simple, but sturdy. There were just enough rooms for everyone, though the furniture was sparse. A single couch, a small kitchen, and an old fireplace that crackled softly, filling the space with warmth.

After grabbing whatever they needed from the truck, everyone found their own space to settle in.

SteelArm took one of the spare rooms and practically collapsed onto the bed. Stiles, ever the opportunist, claimed the couch before anyone could protest. Aria chose a smaller room with a window facing the waterfall, staring out at it for a long moment before finally lying down.

Dante, of course, stayed up a little longer, scribbling out the final details of his "training program" in a notebook. He grinned to himself, already picturing the misery they'd be in for tomorrow.

Then, with the sound of the waterfall in the background, silence overtook the house as exhaustion pulled them all into sleep.

At the crack of dawn, Dante was already up, standing outside with his arms crossed, enjoying the crisp morning air. After a moment of peace, he turned back toward the house, a wicked grin forming.

Then, all hell broke loose.

A loud bang echoed through the house as Dante slammed a metal pot against the wall, the deafening clang ripping through the peaceful morning.

"RISE AND SHINE, LOSERS! TRAINING PROGRAM DANTE STARTS NOW!"

Groans erupted from every room.

"Dante, I swear to—" Stiles' voice was muffled as he pulled a pillow over his head.

SteelArm sat up groggily, blinking. "Is he serious…?"

Aria, already awake but still in bed, sighed. "This is going to be annoying, isn't it?"

Dante didn't wait for complaints. He stomped through the house, yanking off blankets, flipping mattresses, and ensuring nobody got even five extra seconds of sleep.

Once everyone was finally outside—grumbling, exhausted, and barely awake—Dante stood before them with his arms crossed, looking every bit like a military drill instructor.

"Alright, listen up! This training is gonna be hell, and I do mean hell. You all wanna get stronger? Then get ready to suffer."

He unfolded his notebook and began listing off the program.

"For you two—" he pointed at Stiles and SteelArm, "—you'll be on the Dante Special Regimen. You're gonna run twenty miles first thing every morning. No powers, no boosts, just raw endurance."

Stiles groaned. "Twenty miles? What kind of psycho wakes up and immediately does cardio?"

Dante ignored him and continued, "After that, combat drills. Sparring, reaction training, weapons practice, and—oh yeah!—daily full-contact fights. No holding back."

SteelArm cracked his knuckles, nodding. "I can work with that."

Dante grinned. "Good, 'cause it gets worse. Afternoon? Strength training. Carrying boulders, resistance training, and impact conditioning. You're gonna feel what it means to be durable."

Stiles leaned toward SteelArm. "We're gonna die."

Dante wasn't done. "Evening? Reflex drills. Dodging high-speed projectiles, navigating obstacles at full speed, and reaction-based combat. Oh, and before bed? More running."

"YOU'RE INSANE." Stiles said instantly upon hearing this.

Dante shrugged. "And you're weak. If you wanna change that, shut up and run."

Finally, Dante turned to Aria. He narrowed his eyes slightly. Unlike the others, they still didn't know her true capabilities.

"For you," he said, tone shifting slightly, "I'm adjusting things. Until we know what you can handle, I'm easing you in. No twenty-mile runs—just five. No full-contact fights unless you say you're ready."

Aria stared at him, expression unreadable.

"You'll focus on control first. Precision, magic application, endurance in casting. Since we don't know your limits, I'm not gonna push you past breaking—yet."

She simply nodded. "Understood."

Stiles, still processing his impending death, scowled. "Oh, so she gets an easier time?"

Dante smirked.

"You wanna be treated like her? Fine. First, fight me and win. Until then? Shut up and start running."

Stiles groaned again as Dante clapped his hands together.

"Alright! Enough talk! Everyone, move your asses—we start NOW!"

The moment Dante barked his final order, Stiles and SteelArm exchanged a glance—one filled with pure suffering—before reluctantly taking off at a steady pace.

"Twenty miles… this is actual hell," Stiles grumbled as his feet hit the dirt path.

SteelArm sighed, his strides strong and steady. "You heard Dante. No complaining. Just run."

"Easy for you to say, you're built like a damn mountain. My legs are gonna give out before we even hit mile ten."

"Then run faster and get it over with."

Stiles shot him a glare but pushed forward. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could rest—or at least try to before Dante threw another hellish task at them.

Meanwhile, a short distance away, Aria had started her own run—five miles instead of twenty. The gap between her and the others was obvious, but Dante wasn't about to throw her into the same level of torment just yet.

She ran at a steady, controlled pace, her breath measured, eyes focused straight ahead. She wasn't struggling, but she wasn't pushing herself too hard either—simply getting a feel for the exercise.

Dante jogged alongside her for a few moments, watching her form. "Not bad. Keep a steady rhythm, control your breathing. This isn't a sprint—it's endurance."

Aria nodded, not breaking her pace. "I know I know."

Dante smirked. "Good. 'Cause this is just the warm-up."

Up ahead, Stiles groaned dramatically. "Just the warm-up?! I hate you, Dante!"

Dante grinned. "You're gonna hate me a lot more by the end of today." As Aria ran, her thoughts drifted uneasily.

"I… don't think I used to run. But this doesn't feel difficult at all. Shouldn't it be harder?"

The thought lingered, unsettling in a way she couldn't explain. She had no memories—nothing of who she was before waking up in this unfamiliar world. And yet, her body moved as if it had done this a thousand times before. It felt… natural.

"Why am I even thinking like this? I don't remember anything except those stupid Hunter 101 lessons… some basic things, and also all the things I've learned the past I'm not sure.. two weeks?"

Her mind replayed them in an endless loop—monsters, gates, classifications. It was all useful, but it wasn't hers. Not really. It was just something drilled into her by force, filling the empty spaces where her memories should be.

She let out a quiet sigh, closing her eyes for a brief moment, listening to the rhythmic sound of her footsteps against the dirt. When she opened them again, she focused on the path ahead and kept running, pushing those thoughts aside.

A few hours later, by the time the run was over, Stiles collapsed onto the ground, panting like he had just escaped death itself.

"I… hate… you…" he wheezed, pointing a trembling finger at Dante.

SteelArm, though winded, simply stretched his shoulders and exhaled. "That was a good warm-up."

Stiles shot him a betrayed look. "Warm-up?! That was twenty miles of pure suffering!"

Meanwhile, Aria slowed to a stop, after deciding to keep running for an extra three miles, barely out of breath. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or confused by how easy it had been. She kept quiet, unsure how the others would react if she admitted she wasn't even tired.

Dante clapped his hands together, grinning. "Alright, no time to waste. Next up—combat drills."

Stiles groaned. "No break?"

Dante smirked. "You get a break when you're dead. Now get up."

SteelArm rolled his shoulders. "What are we doing?"

Dante pointed to an open area near the waterfall. "Sparring. Stiles, you're with me. SteelArm, you'll be Aria's partner."

Aria's eyes widened slightly. "W-Wait, I have to…?"

Dante raised a brow. "You think you'll get stronger by standing around?"

She hesitated, glancing at SteelArm. 

Noticing her hesitation, Dante added, "Don't worry, I told him to go easy on you. Your training's gonna be different from ours. Just focus on learning how to move and react."

Aria bit her lip but eventually nodded. "…Okay."

Dante smirked. "Good. Now, let's get started."

Aria stood a few feet away from SteelArm, shifting uncomfortably as he cracked his knuckles. His sheer size alone was intimidating, and despite Dante's reassurance, she wasn't sure how "easy" he was really going to go on her.

SteelArm tilted his head. "You ready?"

Aria hesitated before nodding. "…I think so."

He didn't charge at her immediately. Instead, he planted his feet and took a defensive stance, watching her closely. "You make the first move."

Aria swallowed. Attack first? That felt unnatural—like something she wasn't used to doing. But she couldn't just stand there.

Taking a deep breath, she darted forward, aiming a quick strike toward his side. She barely made contact before SteelArm shifted, effortlessly catching her wrist.

"Too slow."

Before she could react, he swept a foot behind hers and pulled, sending her stumbling backward onto the ground.

Aria winced, gripping her wrist where he'd caught her. It didn't hurt, but the ease with which he countered her made her stomach sink.

SteelArm offered a hand to help her up. "It looks like you're hesitating too much."

Aria looked at his hand for a second before accepting it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"…I don't exactly know what I'm doing. I feel like I know what to do, but doing it is a bit different than thinking of it."

"That's why we're training," he said simply. "Again."

Aria exhaled and nodded, stepping back into position.

Forty minutes later, the sparring matches finally came to an end.

Aria stood with her hands on her knees, breathing a little heavier than before. Her body ached from being knocked down so many times, but she was still standing. SteelArm had been patient, correcting her mistakes and giving her advice between exchanges. Even though she had landed barely any hits, she had at least improved her movements, if only slightly.

SteelArm gave Aria a nod of approval. "You're learning… and at a solid pace too. But you're still overthinking. You need to trust yourself more—let your body move naturally instead of trying to analyze every single possibility in the moment."

Aria looked away, unsure how to respond. She wasn't sure if she trusted herself at all but ended up nodding along to what she was hearing.

Meanwhile, across the field, Stiles lay flat on his back, staring up at the sky with dead eyes.

"I… I can't move…" he muttered weakly.

Dante stood over him, stretching his arms. "That was fun. We should go for round two."

Stiles let out a pained wheeze. "I would rather die."

Dante smirked. "That's quitter talk. Alright, training's not over yet. Next up—strength and endurance drills."

Stiles groaned. SteelArm nodded. Aria simply sighed, bracing herself for whatever was coming next.