Not long after, Ryn returned to the dining table.
A fire had been hastily lit, providing just enough light to push back the night's darkness.
He sat down in front of his meal—
and remained completely still.
He did not touch the food.
His body was still trembling.
Richard, who had been eating, paused and looked up at him.
"Eat," he said.
"You'll need the strength to train again tomorrow."
Ryn lifted his head.
The man sitting across from him was simply his instructor now—
a normal mentor.
There was no crushing pressure.
No terrifying aura.
No sense of standing before a predator on the battlefield.
This Richard was nothing like the man who had nearly shattered his mind earlier that day.
It was as if they were two entirely different people.
And in that moment, Ryn slowly began to understand.
What he had faced was not merely fear.
It was a glimpse of the true battlefield—
one he was not yet ready to stand upon.
At last, Ryn spoke, his voice still slightly unsteady.
"Master…
What exactly happened?
Why couldn't I move at all?"
Richard studied him for a moment.
His gaze was far gentler than it had been during training.
"Do you remember the first time you faced the Calami?"
Ryn nodded.
"I do.
I was standing on the wall, looking down, watching the senior soldiers charge at them."
His hand clenched unconsciously.
"Even though they defeated many of them,
I was shaking—
just like I was today."
He looked up.
"Only…
this time, it was hundreds of times worse."
Richard smiled faintly.
"That's not strange," he said slowly.
"When any living being sees death standing right in front of them,
and can still smile,
still walk toward it without hesitation…"
He gave a quiet, breathy laugh.
"That person is either truly exceptional—
or completely insane."
Ryn remained silent, listening to every word.
"Do you know," Richard continued,
"why armies use signal callers when they march into battle?"
Ryn thought for a moment before answering.
"So everyone moves together… right?"
"That's part of it,"
Richard said with a smile.
"But more than anything,
it's to call back their minds."
He set his spoon down.
"If an army loses its composure,
they won't know what to do,
they won't know where to go,
and they won't even know how to keep living."
Ryn sat in silence, letting the words sink in.
"For you, today…"
Richard continued,
"you did very well."
Ryn froze.
"You endured my pressure from morning until evening."
Richard met his gaze directly.
"If, during that time, something had stirred you awake—"
he smiled faintly,
"you would have charged at me before your mind completely collapsed."
"From today onward, you must grow accustomed to it,"
Richard said calmly, as if stating something ordinary.
"But I won't tell you how.
Find your own way to resist it."
He pointed to the food on the table.
"Eat. Get some rest.
We'll begin again tomorrow morning."
Ryn nodded silently and lowered his head, eating as instructed.
Soon after, the two of them went their separate ways to rest.
That night, however, Ryn could not fall asleep.
Even as he lay still on his bedding,
even with his eyes tightly shut,
the images of the day kept returning.
The crushing pressure.
The mental suppression.
Just thinking about it made his body tremble again.
His breathing came in broken gasps.
His heart pounded as if it were about to burst from his chest.
How am I supposed to resist it…
How many more times do I have to face this…
The questions repeated endlessly, without answers.
Until—
The first light of dawn slowly crept into the hut.
Ryn opened his eyes, having not slept even for a moment.
He rose, grabbed his weapon,
and walked outside.
The training ground was still silent.
The morning air was bitterly cold.
Richard stood in the same place,
as if he had never moved since yesterday.
Ryn took his position,
and the training began once more.
It continued like that, day after day.
But the one thing that changed—
was Ryn himself.
Where he once could barely endure the pressure for several hours…
Now, not even a full hour would pass before his mind began to crack.
His body trembled faster.
Sweat poured more heavily.
His breaths grew shorter and shorter.
Until one day—
The moment he stepped into his usual position,
before he could even assume a stance,
before a single thought could form—
his legs gave out.
The world spun violently,
and Ryn collapsed, unconscious,
in the silent training ground.
Ryn slowly opened his eyes.
His body was still lying where it had fallen—
on the cold earth of the training grounds,
exactly where he had collapsed that morning.
The sky above him had begun to change color.
Soft sunlight filtered through the branches overhead.
He lay there, spread out,
with no intention of rising.
He did not even know
what he would rise for.
I can't overcome it…
The thought surfaced quietly.
Richard's killing intent was overwhelming—
crushing, suffocating, far beyond what he could endure.
If this continued,
he would not break because of the training—
he would break because of his own mind.
A cool wind swept across the training ground.
The branches above swayed with the breeze.
Several leaves tore free, spiraling gently
before settling onto the earth.
Ryn lay still, watching.
He let the sound of the wind,
the rustle of leaves,
the voice of nature
flow through his senses.
His thoughts slowly began to quiet.
And then—
something emerged within him.
The towering tree stood firm and strong.
If it wished to resist the wind, it easily could.
So why…
did its branches sway?
Not because it was weak.
But because it did not resist.
When the wind came, it moved.
When the wind passed, it returned to stillness.
It did not break.
It did not shatter.
It did not fight back.
Ryn's heart began to beat a little faster.
That's it…
All this time,
he had only thought about resisting.
About pushing it back.
But what if he didn't resist?
What if he let that killing intent flow through him
like the wind passing through the branches—
not holding it in,
not forcing it away,
simply letting it pass?
Ryn slowly sat up.
He was still uncertain.
He still didn't know whether it would work.
But this time,
his heart was not filled with fear alone.
He stood up
and ran straight toward his mentor's house.
His footsteps echoed through the quiet of the evening.
He stopped before the wooden door and called out,
"Master…
I want to try again."
The door opened.
Richard stood inside,
as if he hadn't slept at all.
His gaze was calm,
yet something sharp flickered within it.
"Hm."
Richard answered simply.
"Then come."
And the trial
began once more.