Chapter 21: The Thirtieth Day, The Final Day

The crisp morning air hung heavy with anticipation as the sun cast its golden fingers through the skeletal branches of the ancient oak tree. Today marked the thirtieth day—Erin's final test after weeks of grueling training. His body, honed through endless trials—fetching water from the distant river, pushing boulders up the jagged cliffs, performing pushups until his arms trembled like leaves in a storm—now stood poised before the towering oak. Its once-lush foliage had long since withered, stripped bare by the relentless passage of time and the force of Erin's previous attempts. 

Eyes closed, he steadied his breathing, feeling the pulse of his energy coursing through his veins. Behind him, Noah stood wrapped in his tattered sleeping bag, his voice a deep, resonant command cutting through the stillness. 

"Focus," Noah urged, his tone sharp yet measured. "Channel it all—every drop of strength you've earned."

Erin's fists clenched. His muscles coiled like springs, every fiber of his being alight with raw power. Then—one strike.

His fist shot forward, a blur of motion. For a heartbeat—nothing. The world itself seemed to hold its breath. 

Then—BOOM!

A deafening sonic crack shattered the silence. The air itself split apart as the oak tree exploded into a storm of splintered wood, fragments scattering like shrapnel across the forest. The ground trembled beneath the force, leaves and dust swirling in the violent aftershock. 

Noah's eyes, previously half-lidded with drowsiness, snapped wide open. His gaze locked onto Erin, sharp and assessing, as if seeing him for the first time. Erin, panting, bent forward, bracing his hands against his knees. Sweat dripped from his brow, his chest heaving with exertion. 

"Good," Noah admitted, his voice low but carrying undeniable approval. "But now comes the real test."

Erin's stomach twisted. He knew what was coming. 

The Eternal Wheel.

A trial so brutal, so unforgiving, that no disciple had ever passed it. Every time before, it had broken him—left him gasping in the dirt, his body screaming in protest. 

Without a word, Noah led him to the clearing where the massive boulder rested, its surface worn smooth by years of struggle. A thick rope, frayed from countless attempts, lay coiled beside it. Erin's fingers trembled slightly as he grabbed it, looping it around his waist with practiced motions. His jaw set. He would not fail this time. 

Noah stepped back, arms crossed, his voice a steady command. "Run."

Erin lunged forward, his legs pumping as the sand beneath him shifted treacherously. The Eternal Wheel was no ordinary sprint—the ground itself moved against him, rolling like a treadmill, dragging him backward with every step. 

"Channel your energy!" Noah barked. "The enemy won't wait for you to meditate! You must strike even when your mind is chaos!"

Erin gritted his teeth, pushing harder. His muscles burned. His lungs screamed. But no matter how fast he ran, the sand only swallowed his efforts, mocking him. 

Then—Noah's voice cut through his frustration like a blade. 

"If you pass this now… I'll spar with you." A pause. "And you'll see me outside this damned sleeping bag."

Erin's eyes flashed. 

That was all he needed. 

His eyelids snapped shut mid-stride. The world blurred. His breath, visible in the cold air, streamed from his lips in ragged bursts. Then—his eyes shot open.

A surge of power erupted from within. His legs dug into the shifting sands, his heels carving deep furrows as if anchoring himself against the very earth. The ground shuddered, the rolling sands halting beneath his will. 

"Now!" Noah's voice was barely a whisper against the roaring energy. 

With a force that defied nature, Erin leapt.

The rope snapped like a thread. The boulder, once immovable, lurched backward from the sheer force. 

Noah's eyes—wide, stunned—tracked the blur of motion. He barely saw Erin move. Only the aftermath—the broken rope, the displaced earth, the disciple standing victorious at the marker. 

Silence. 

Then—Noah clapped. Slow. Deliberate. 

"Good job," he said, the words weighted with something rare—pride. "You passed."

Erin's chest swelled. His fists trembled—not from exhaustion, but from exhilaration. He had done it. He had conquered the impossible. 

But one thought burned brighter than all else. 

A spar with Noah.

What would it feel like to face the man who had pushed him beyond every limit? 

The anticipation was almost unbearable.

Noah led Erin deeper into the heart of the woods, where the trees parted to reveal a vast clearing bathed in the dying light of the setting sun. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed leaves, the only sounds the distant rustling of creatures fleeing the coming storm of battle. 

Noah, still cocooned in his tattered sleeping bag, trudged forward with slow, deliberate steps. Erin, his muscles coiled with anticipation, clenched his fists. 

"You promised," Erin growled, his voice edged with frustration. "No more hiding. Come out of that damned bag and fight me properly!"

Noah paused, his silhouette dark against the amber sky. Then, with a sigh, he shrugged off the sleeping bag, letting it fall to the ground in a heap. 

The sight of him was almost pitiable. His hair was a wild tangle, his clothes—a faded sandy-brown shirt and threadbare pants—hung loosely on his frame. His feet were bare, calloused from years of wandering. Erin almost felt a pang of sympathy. 

Almost. 

Noah cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders with a lazy stretch. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, locked onto Erin. 

"Let's see how fast you can last," he said, his voice a low, mocking challenge. 

Erin didn't wait. 

With a roar, he launched forward, his fist a blur of motion aimed straight for Noah's face. 

Noah didn't move. 

Erin's knuckles were inches from impact— 

—Then the world spun.

A knee slammed into Erin's gut with the force of a battering ram. Air exploded from his lungs, spit flying from his lips as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his stomach. 

Noah loomed over him, lips curling into a smirk. 

"Hmph. Pathetic."

Before Erin could even groan, Noah's foot lashed out, sending him hurtling through the air. His body crashed into a distant tree, bark splintering under the impact. 

"Oh, come on," Erin wheezed, struggling to rise. "Let me catch my breath first—"

"Tell that to your enemy," Noah snarled. 

And then he was there, moving faster than Erin could track. A fist cracked against his jaw, an elbow slammed into his ribs, a kick sent him skidding across the dirt. 

Erin rolled, coughing blood, his vision swimming. Noah's voice cut through the haze. 

"Thirty days of training," he mused, circling Erin like a predator. "And this is all you've learned?"

With a dismissive scoff, Noah turned away, heading back toward his sleeping bag. The sun dipped lower, painting the clearing in bloody hues. 

"Enough," Noah called over his shoulder. "We try again tomorrow. Maybe with the basics."

Erin's fingers dug into the dirt. 

"I'm not done yet."

His breath came in ragged gasps, steam rising from his lips in the cold air. Then—he moved.

A sonic boom shattered the silence as Erin vanished, leaving a crater where he once stood. Noah's eyes widened—just for a fraction of a second—before he dissolved into the earth. 

"Terrain Magic: Sand Travel!"

Erin's fist smashed into empty space as Noah reappeared a foot away, his hand already weaving through the air. 

"Sandy Punch!"

A colossal fist of hardened sand erupted from the ground, crushing Erin into the dirt with a thunderous impact. The earth quaked, dust billowing in a choking cloud. 

Noah stood over the crater, his voice a cold command. 

"I said. Enough!."

But from the wreckage, a bloodied hand clawed at the edge. Erin hauled himself up, his face streaked with crimson, his teeth bared in a defiant grin. 

"Not yet," he spat. "I'm surpassing my limits—here and now!"

He blurred forward, faster than before—faster than Noah could track.

Noah barely had time to react. 

"Terrain Magic: Sandy Armor!"

Granules of sand swirled around him, hardening into a protective shell. But Erin's fist shattered through it like glass, the force rippling against Noah's jaw. 

The armor absorbed the worst of the blow, but Noah staggered, his eyes flashing with something between fury and admiration. 

Erin didn't let up. His movements were a whirlwind, his fists hammering relentlessly. Noah blocked, countered, but for the first time—he was being pushed back.

"Enough!" Noah roared. 

His palm slammed into the earth. 

"Terrain Magic: Sandy Tentacles of Submission!"

The ground trembled as monstrous tendrils of sand erupted, lashing out like serpents. One wrapped around Erin's torso, hurling him into the dirt. Another slammed him down again. And again. And again.

**"LET ME BREATHE, MAN!" Erin howled, his voice raw with desperation. 

Noah flicked his wrist, and the tentacle flung Erin onto his back, dissolving into the earth. 

Silence. 

Only the sound of Erin's ragged gasps filled the clearing. 

Then, weakly, he laughed. 

"It… it was you," he panted, wiping blood from his lip. "You saved me."

Noah exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. A rare, tired smile tugged at his lips. 

"I was just following orders."

He extended a hand. 

Erin took it, hauling himself up with a pained groan. His body ached, his muscles screamed—but his spirit burned brighter than ever. 

Noah studied him, then nodded. 

"You're ready." A pause. "Can't believe I had to use this much energy on you."

Erin grinned through the blood. "Guess I'm just that good."

Noah rolled his eyes, turning back toward his sleeping bag. 

But before they could take another step— 

BOOOOOM!

The deep, resonant toll of the base bell echoed through the woods, its sound carrying urgency. 

A meeting. 

And something told them—this was no ordinary summons.