Chapter 56: Perseverance

Joshua's days followed a grueling yet methodical routine. Each morning, he rose before the first light, his body aching yet his resolve unshaken. The crisp morning air greeted him as he sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of his quarters, closing his eyes to meditate. His focus was absolute, drawing in the ambient energy from his surroundings, channeling it into his core.

The process was agonizing. As he pushed his limits, he could feel his energy lines stretching, expanding little by little, allowing his core to absorb more than the previous day. The pain was a constant companion, like molten fire coursing through his veins, but he endured it. He had to. With each session, his core capacity grew, refining the raw energy that fueled his abilities. He could feel the difference—a deeper reservoir, a stronger flow.

After nearly an hour of meditation, he would finally stand, his body soaked in sweat from the exertion of energy refinement. He would then perform light stretches to ease the stiffness in his muscles before heading straight to the training field.

Once there, Joshua wasted no time. He gripped the battleaxe with both hands, feeling the weight settle into his grip. The weapon was massive, its dark metal gleaming under the morning sun, its twin blades curved and wickedly sharp. The handle was thick, reinforced with leather wrappings, providing a sturdy grip. Though heavy to the average warrior, it felt perfectly balanced in his hands.

He began with the basics—stances, footwork, and controlled swings. His strikes were measured, precise. At first, he struggled to maintain balance while wielding such a large weapon, but repetition bred familiarity. He practiced wide sweeping arcs, overhead slashes, and quick reversals, learning the weapon's momentum and how to redirect its weight efficiently.

By midday, his shirt was drenched, his muscles burning, but he didn't stop. He incorporated his shield into the drills, learning to block and counter in fluid sequences. Each clash of metal against the training dummies echoed across the field, his strikes growing sharper, faster.

As days passed, Joshua's proficiency skyrocketed. The monstrous weight of the battleaxe no longer hindered him—it became an extension of his will. His grip was unyielding, his footwork precise, his swings powerful yet controlled. His speed, aided by his core's strengthening, exceeded what was thought possible for a weapon of such size. He even experimented with wielding the axe single-handedly, balancing offense and defense seamlessly with his shield.

It was on the seventh day of this relentless training that Amador approached Argan, arms crossed as he observed Joshua's movements.

"So? How is it?" Amador asked without taking his eyes off the young warrior.

Argan, standing beside him, exhaled through his nose, arms folded. "I've never seen a man persevere like this. He spends the entire day refining his technique, like a man possessed. At first, I thought he would need months to adjust, but now…" Argan gestured toward Joshua, who was executing a series of rapid strikes, his battleaxe moving as though it were an extension of his body. "He can wield that beast one-handed and still move faster than our best swordsmen. It's unnatural."

"Hmmm." Amador nodded in silent approval, watching Joshua's fluid, lethal movements. The way he transitioned between attack and defense was seamless, a perfect balance of brute strength and agility.

Then, after a pause, Argan asked the question that had been bothering him for days. "How did he get this strong so fast? It's barely been a month."

Amador's expression darkened slightly. "He used the Gift."

Argan's brows furrowed. "The Blank attribute?"

"Yes." Amador's gaze never left Joshua, who was now locked in a mock duel against three sparring warriors, his battleaxe cleaving through their defenses effortlessly. "I once asked my daughter what happened to his physique. She told me that after his core formation, the Blank attribute is slowly strengthening his body—his bones, his muscles, everything. He's not just learning the weapon. He's evolving."

Argan let out a low whistle. "That explains it." His eyes flickered with something between admiration and wariness. "If he keeps this up, he'll be a monster before long."

Amador smirked. "Good. We'll need a monster soon."

Argan's battle intent surge, bloodlust overflowing.

"As soon as my daughter returns, we will go on a warpath." Amador declared.

"I'll tell the others." Omar grinning wildly.

—

Next morning, Joshua gathered his gear. His body no longer aching. He already got used to the extreme training. Now, it's time to test his skills in real combat.

After getting permission from the chief, the previous night, he went out of the village before dawn.

—

Joshua moved silently through the dense forest, his sharpened senses picking up every rustle, every shift of the wind. The towering trees cast long shadows as he pressed forward, his muscles coiled with anticipation.

The past week had honed his body into a weapon. Each day was spent refining his strength, his technique. Now, he was ready to test himself in real combat. Not the effortless destruction of beasts from afar, but in a close, brutal exchange. He needed to know if his axe, if his skill, would stand against the merciless wild.

The creatures he encountered along the way were of little consequence. A few sharp-toothed rodents scurried past his boots, sensing his presence and fleeing into the underbrush. A massive, elk-like beast grazed in the distance, but Joshua ignored it. His true quarry was far more dangerous.

It was a ferocious and intelligent beast, its sleek, panther-like body blending perfectly with the shadows, its emerald eyes the only warning of its presence before it struck. Swift. Lethal. A true predator. Joshua wanted to measure himself against it, to see if his training had made him a warrior worthy of survival.

Hours passed as he tracked through the wilderness, his patience unwavering. Then, finally, his eyes locked onto a silhouette moving through the brush. Low to the ground, muscles rippling beneath its obsidian fur, its six glowing eyes scanning for prey.

Joshua exhaled, his grip tightening around the haft of his massive battleaxe. He pulled the shield from his back, strapping it to his arm. This would be a battle of steel and instinct, not sorcery. He needed to hide his true power, to disguise himself as a warrior.

He raised his free hand and gathered energy at his fingertip, forming a needle-thin projectile. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it streaking toward the beast, not to kill but to provoke.

The energy bolt sizzled through the air, striking the dirt a mere foot away from the Umbra Stalker's head. The beast jerked up, its six eyes locking onto him in an instant. Its lips curled back, revealing jagged fangs, and a low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat.

Joshua grinned.

Eyes locked.

The fight had begun.

The Umbra Stalker did not hesitate. It exploded from its crouch, a blur of darkness racing toward him. Joshua met the charge head-on. He braced himself, his legs rooted into the earth as he swung his axe in a sweeping arc. The beast veered at the last moment, its reflexes impossibly fast, dodging the strike by inches.

It retaliated with a flash of claws. Joshua barely had time to raise his shield as the impact sent a violent shockwave up his arm. The sheer force behind the blow made him slide back, his boots digging trenches into the soil.

He gritted his teeth. So fast. So strong. This was exactly the challenge he craved.

With a roar, Joshua surged forward, throwing his full weight into a downward swing. The axe whistled through the air, but the Umbra Stalker twisted aside with inhuman agility, leaping to the left before lunging again, aiming for his throat.

Joshua pivoted, his shield meeting the beast midair with a deafening crash. The impact sent it sprawling, but it flipped mid-fall, landing gracefully on all fours. It stalked sideways, circling him, searching for an opening.

Adrenaline coursed through Joshua's veins, his body alive with exhilaration. Every muscle burned, every nerve sharpened to its limit. This was battle. This was the test he had longed for.

He feinted a strike, baiting the beast. It lunged. He anticipated it, sidestepping at the last second. His axe whirled, the edge carving through the air toward its exposed flank. The Umbra Stalker twisted, but not fast enough.

Steel met flesh. A spray of crimson painted the ground as the axe cleaved a deep gash into the beast's side.

It screeched in pain, leaping back, its stance now wary. Blood dripped from its wound, but its emerald eyes burned with fury. It would not retreat. It would fight to the death.

Joshua exhaled, shifting his stance, his grip firm on the axe.

He would too.

The battle had only just begun.