Her Voice, My Anchor

Aside from mana training, the coach decided to up the intensity of their physical training by offering them another way to push the limits of their body.

It was a pendant that had two functions. Monitoring the wearer's physical health and amplifying the gravitational force only for the user.

The gravity adjustment ranged from 0.5 to 5 times the normal gravitational force. 

The setting didn't replace Earth's gravity but added to it. For example, selecting 0.5 would make the user experience 1.5 times the normal gravity (1g + 0.5g), while setting it to 5 would result in 6 times the normal gravity (1g + 5g).

They were advised to use it during bodyweight exercises like push-ups and pull-ups to maximize its benefits.

Naturally, Ashen went beyond that.

He kept it on at all times, only turning it off occasionally to let his body readjust to its natural weight.

From that point on, his body joined his mind in the Misery and Torment Club. 

The first few days were hell on earth. If not for the passive nourishment and repair from mana, he was certain he would've died.

But since the pendant's warning function, meant to alert him of any serious long-term damage, never rang, he just kept going.

*

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into yet another month.

Ashen had been in this city for three months now.

The suffering never eased. Nor did it intensify. It was constant. A relentless torture that gnawed at his mind, threatening to drive him toward insanity with each passing second.

But worse than the pain was the homesickness.

Thoughts of home occupied his mind whenever he was on his own.

He longed to see his mother's face one more time. To hear his sister's playful laughter. Even his father's scolding… anything would be better than enduring this hollow ache.

And most of all, guilt ate at him for Alice.

Thinking about her forced him to see himself from a third person's perspective, and the more he revisited his memories, the more disgusted he became with himself.

A rising tide of self-hatred began to take root, growing stronger with each passing moment.

He couldn't forgive himself for how much he had made her suffer, for the pain he had dragged her into. He wanted to go back and make things right… or at the very least, make up for the mistreatment he had made her go through.

These thoughts hammered at his mind lately, chipping away at his resolve night after night.

But stopping wasn't an option now. Not with how much he felt himself growing.

His body, once worn down by years of junk food, alcohol, smoking, and neglect, had transformed under the merciless pressure of gravity and relentless physical training.

Now, he bore the physique of a calisthenics athlete. His body has become lean, powerful, and honed to precision under his mana trait.

This was something he had only recently noticed. 

After months of constant mana circulation and the cycle of tearing and healing his muscles, his body had started to adapt. 

Every inch of him became easier to control and more responsive as if his very flesh had synchronized with his mana.

Efficiency was another noticeable change. Instead of bulging, inflated muscles, his frame remained compact and streamlined for movement rather than brute force.

According to Professor Wiseman, mana traits weren't supposed to influence the body until at least a year of continuous training. 

Yet, somehow, Ashen had accelerated that process by several months.

Speaking of that professor…

After weeks of careful observation, Ashen reached a firm conclusion: Wiseman was the laziest man he had ever met.

If not for his job as a professor, the man would undoubtedly spend most of his time napping, not unlike a house cat.

But this laziness worked to Ashen's advantage. It meant the professor wouldn't probe deeper than necessary if Ashen asked the right questions. 

He simply couldn't be bothered to care.

So, after several subtle inquiries, which, by the way, were met with half-hearted responses, Ashen finally pieced together a theory regarding his abysmal mana quantity.

It turned out that for the past fifteen years, instead of refining what little mana was available in Esperra—a process that should have accumulated into a respectable amount by now—his cursed eyes had been leeching every last drop of it.

For fifteen years, his own eyes had denied him mana, only stopping a year ago when they finally broke down.

Strangely, Ashen felt nothing upon learning this. It didn't change anything. What he had to do remained the same.

At least now, he knew that as long as he kept his breathing technique running, his mana would finally increase like any other normal person. The veins near his heart were still intact. That was enough.

For now.

But beyond all the misery life kept throwing his way, there was one thing—one person—who kept him from snapping.

Seraphine.

Amid the suffering, this lady was his anchor. Always by his side, easing his burdens with a playful remark, a witty retort, or simply by being herself whenever things got too tough.

She never told him to stop. Never nagged or complained when she made sure he ate, when she dragged his exhausted body back to his room, or when she cleaned up after him without a word.

She was like a dedicated wife. Or perhaps a doting mother. Always there, always pushing him forward when he was on the verge of collapse.

If he hadn't met Alice, if he wasn't still madly in love with her, he would've outright asked Seraphine to marry him by now.

But even if romance wasn't in their future, Ashen knew one thing… he would never forget her support. He owed her. And he swore he'd find a way to pay her back and keep her safe no matter what.

***

On the vacant training grounds,

A man could be seen swinging a spear in a wide arc. Followed by fast thrusts and the occasional slashing motion.

His moves looked basic, but they were sharp.

His rhythmic breathing remained steady as he finished the last repetition of his spear techniques—one of hundreds for that day—when he heard a soft call.

Ashen turned, his spear naturally came to rest on his shoulder as he faced a faintly smiling Seraphine.

Now that he had a proper look at her, he noticed something. Her figure had become even more... alluring. Most likely a result of her mana trait influencing her body, combined with her rigorous training.

And her voice…

"Ash, it would be better to head back earlier today, don't you think? Tomorrow is a special day, after all~"

Her voice drifted to his ears, naturally soothing… no, almost sultry.

Was he hallucinating? Mana traits weren't supposed to affect a person's voice, right?

"Hello? Earth to Ashen?"

He blinked, snapping out of his daze as she waved a hand over his eyes.

"...Sera, thanks for reminding me. You're right. Let's head back now."

She chuckled softly. "No need for thanks between us, silly. C'mon, let's go. I already made a good meal for us, we can't let it get cold."

"Right."