Three months. That was ninety days of bleeding in the dark. Ninety days of waking up with muscles so sore they felt like they were tearing right off the bone. Ninety days of breathing in the damp, dusty air of the subterranean training hall deep beneath the Solaris Academy.
Kairos Vedaryan stood in the center of the rough gravel floor. He was drenched in sweat. His plain gray shirt was discarded in a corner, revealing a lean, heavily scarred torso. The blisters on his palms had healed, and hardened into thick, permanent calluses.
He gripped a heavy iron sword with both hands. It was the same dull, unforgiving weapon he had picked up three months ago, but it did not feel sluggish anymore.
Kairos closed his eyes and took a slow breath. He visualized the teleporting movements of the Black Mist Knights. He remembered the speed of their dark greatswords.
He moved. He didn't use a drop of magic. He simply stepped forward and swung the iron blade.
Whoosh!
