A week had passed since Danir returned to the House of Granger.
One cold winter morning, a furious blizzard raged outside the mansion. Snow struck against the tall windows, and the wind howled loudly through the stone corridors.
Danir woke up late from his bed, wrapped himself in a thick coat, and stepped out of his room. The floors felt icy beneath his feet as he walked toward the dining hall.
His brothers had already finished their breakfast as he was the only one left sitting at the long dining table, eating alone. The empty chairs around him made the hall feel even larger and quieter than usual.
After finishing his meal, he moved to sit in front of the fireplace. The flames burned steadily, casting orange light across the room, but even then, the warmth felt insufficient against the harsh winter air seeping through the walls.
The cold weather was beginning to affect his mood. He stared into the fire as thoughts ran through his head.
"I wish my body had fur like brother Ulfzar…" He imagined how warm it must feel to be covered in thick fur during a blizzard like this.
"No… I wish I were a vampire, strong enough to endure this coldness." He paused, then frowned slightly.
"No, not that narcissistic jerk… I wish I were as warm-blooded as my mammalian brothers, Zeke, Zebion, and Ulfzar."
He let out a quiet sigh.
After a brief pause, he took a deep breath and came to a simple realization.
"Well… I guess I'm just a mere human after all. Even though I can use Ice Shard Daggers, a magic born from the winter element… I still have to feel this freezing cold."
The fire crackled in front of him.
Outside, the blizzard showed no signs of stopping.
"Gosh… these days are so boring," he muttered under his breath, resting his chin on his hand as he continued staring at the flames.
Danir pushed himself up from the couch beside the fireplace, the fading embers casting a weak orange glow across the room. The cabin felt strangely quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against his ears.
He stretched his arms above his head and walked down the hallway, boots thudding lightly against the wooden floor. The wind outside howled against the walls, rattling the windows as snow lashed the balcony doors.
He climbed the stairs slowly, a mischievous grin forming on his face.
"Maybe I should cause a little chaos." he thought. "It's way too boring around here."
In Zeke's Room...
He stopped in front of Zeke's door and knocked three times.
Knock! Knock! Knock!—But no answer.
Danir smirked and turned the doorknob. It opened easily as his older brother hadn't even bothered locking it.
Inside, Zeke lay sprawled across his bed like a wolf in deep hibernation, blanket half-fallen to the floor. His breathing was slow and heavy, completely undisturbed by the raging storm outside.
Danir stepped closer and waved a hand in front of his brother's face. But no response at all. He tried to shook him lightly. But still nothing.
"This guy could sleep through an apocalypse." Danir muttered. "Big bro's so boring."
With a sigh, he stepped out and shut the door behind him.
Next was Zebion's...
He knocked!
And knocked again...
Silence. No response as the door was firmly locked.
"Tch. Acting all mysterious again?" Danir scoffed. "What's he hiding?"
But no matter how many times he knocked, Zebion never answered.
So he proceeded to Alec's Room...
Danir moved on and reached Alec's door.
It was already slightly open.
Curious, he pushed it wider—and immediately froze. Alec stood completely naked in front of the wide-open balcony doors, facing the violent snowstorm outside. The icy wind whipped through the room, sending curtains flying wildly around him. His pale body didn't even flinch from the freezing air.
He stood there like some unhinged ascetic, arms slightly spread, as if embracing the cold itself, as Danir's face twisted in disgust.
"This freak is a psychopath maniac." he whispered under his breath. "What the hell is he even doing?"
A shiver crawled up his spine.
"I should leave. Something bad is definitely going to happen if I stay."
He quietly backed away and slipped out before Alec noticed him.
To Nezcar's Room...
Nezcar's door was wide open too, along with the windows.
Inside, Nezcar sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, back perfectly straight. Snowflakes drifted in through the open window, melting against his bare arms as if he didn't feel the cold at all.
He was meditating—like the yoga Danir remembered from his former world—but far more intense, almost spiritual.
Danir leaned slightly into the doorway—
SLAM! The door shut in his face.
"Mind your own business!" Nezcar's cold voice snapped from inside.
Danir blinked.
"This guy's been rude since day one." he muttered.
Then after that, he went Caspi's Room...
As he approached Caspi's room, he heard something unusual. Sniffling. Soft sobbing.
Danir's eyebrows lifted.
He pushed the door gently. It wasn't locked.
Caspi sat on his bed, holding a book close to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Danir squinted at the cover, something like a romance novel.
For a second, there was silence.
Then— "Hahahahaha!"
Danir burst into laughter. "You're crying over a love story?! That's hilarious!"
Caspi wiped his eyes and glared at him.
"At least I don't cry when I miss my mother!" Caspi shot back sharply. "Now get out hell out of here!"
The words hit harder than Danir expected.
Caspi stood up and slammed the door in his face as Danir forced a scoff.
"Whatever," he muttered, though his chest felt tight for a moment.
Then atlast, to Ulfzar's Room...
"One last one," Danir said to himself.
He approached Ulfzar's door. It wasn't locked either. He grinned mischievously and pushed it open—
"Oh my freakin' goddess! Have you never heard of knocking?!" Ulfzar roared.
Danir's eyes widened in horror.
Ulfzar was half-covered by blankets, face red, j*rking off over a small painted portrait of his girlfriend.
The situation was unmistakable.
"I didn't see that coming!" Danir stammered, backing toward the door. "Why the hell would you leave it unlocked?! You're the one giving me nightmares!"
"This is the only way I can survive this damn winter!" Ulfzar barked, mortified. "Get out before I actually kill you!"
He shoved Danir into the hallway.
"And if you tell anyone," Ulfzar growled with deadly seriousness, "I swear I'll bury you in the snow myself."
The door slammed shut.
Danir stood frozen.
"…Damn that bear," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I seriously shouldn't have done that."
The image burned into his mind like a curse as he went back into his room.
Regret slowly settled in. The house felt heavier now. Danir dragged himself back to his room and collapsed onto his bed. He covered his face with both hands, groaning.
"Why did I even go snooping around?"
Ulfzar's traumatic scene replayed mercilessly in his head.
"I should've used that time for training instead of being an idiot."
With a deep breath, he forced himself up. Thinking about that if there was one thing that grounded him, it was discipline.
He dropped to the floor.
"One thousand squat-thrusts," he muttered.
He began.
Down. Kick. Up. Jump!
Again...
And again...
And again..!
The cold air bit at his lungs as sweat began pouring from his body. His muscles burned, his breathing grew heavier, but he didn't stop. Each repetition drowned out the embarrassing memories.
By the time he finished the first set of his routine, his arms trembled and sweat soaked through his clothes. He sat back briefly, chest heaving, steam rising faintly from his overheated skin in the winter air.
"Don't stop just because you're tired!" Danir shouted at himself, his voice echoing off the wooden walls. "Stop when you're done!"
He forced his trembling arms to push his body back up.
And again...
Down. Kick. Up. Jump!
And repeat!
Hours passed.
The storm outside slowly shifted from a furious howl to a steady roar, but inside his room, only the harsh rhythm of his breathing and the dull thud of his body hitting the floor could be heard.
After completing his second one thousand squat-thrusts, he dropped to his knees, palms flat against the wooden floorboards. Sweat dripped from his chin, forming small dark stains beneath him. His chest heaved violently as if his lungs were trying to tear themselves free.
By that late afternoon, when the sky outside had dimmed into a cold gray, he completed the total of two thousand squat-thrusts.
The moment he finished, his body gave up.
He collapsed flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. His limbs felt disconnected, like they didn't belong to him anymore. Even breathing hurt.
He tried to move his fingers as they barely responded.
"Damn…" he whispered weakly.
For several minutes, he simply lay there, letting the pain wash over him. It wasn't sharp anymore—it was heavy. Deep. Settling into his bones.
Eventually, he forced himself to sit up.
With shaking hands, he summoned his grimoire.
The faint magical glow illuminated the room, and the familiar status screen appeared before his eyes. Then he scanned it, an additional +20 to STR, SPD, and END.
His lips twitched.
BP: 3,425
MP: 1,200
STR: 2,929
SPD: 2,927
END: 2,925
INT: 600
"What a damn hassle… for such a small reward," he muttered bitterly.
Two thousand repetitions. Hours of pain. For just twenty points. He let out a slow breath and leaned his head back against the wall.
"But… I guess it's still something."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"For someone ungifted like me… this is the only way." He thought.
"Those crazy gifted bastards doing weird stuffs in their freetimes instead of Hardworking." He jugdmentally thought.
An hour later, dinner time arrived.
As usual, the brothers gathered around the long wooden dining table while Yuri placed steaming dishes before them. The scent of roasted meat and herbs filled the hall, mixing with the faint smell of burning firewood from the hearth.
Danir sat across from Ulfzar. And immediately looked away. While bitting the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress a grin. The memory from earlier flashed across his mind again.
"Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh."
Because if he did… He was fairly certain Ulfzar would make good on his threat.
The only sounds filling the room were knives scraping plates, forks piercing meat, quiet chewing… and the occasional gulp of water, as for Alec—was the unmistakable sound of thick liquid being swallowed, Blood!
Danir avoided looking in that direction. Slowly, he glanced back at Ulfzar. Their eyes met. The awkward silence stretched between them.
"Hey… big bro Ulfzar?" Danir asked casually.
Ulfzar narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What?"
"Did you wash your hands?"
Ulfzar suddenly choked on his food as Zeke calmly slid a glass of water toward him without saying a word.
After coughing violently, Ulfzar wiped his mouth and glared at Danir. "Someone's going to sleep with his eyes open tonight," he said coldly, fury flashing in his eyes.
Danir raised both hands defensively. "No, no, that's not what I meant! I'm just asking because you're eating with your hands instead of using a knife and fork. What are you talking about?"
Ulfzar blinked.
"…I didn't," he admitted. "I was too hungry. I forgot."
Danir, who had just taken a sip of water—Spat it out.
For a second, there was silence.
Then their eyes locked again.
And something broke.
They burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Hahahahaha! You idiot!" Ulfzar laughed, clutching his stomach. "Promise you won't tell anyone our secrets, alright?! Hahahaha!"
Danir could barely breathe. "I—I promise! HAHAHA! I don't want to die! Secrets forever!"
"Yeah! Secrets for life!" Ulfzar wheezed.
Their laughter echoed through the dining hall.
The other brothers stared at them with varying levels of suspicion.
"These idiots…" Alec thought, sipping calmly. "What do they know that I don't?"
Caspi narrowed his eyes. "I bet they're talking about me. That little stalker…!"
Nezcar simply ignored them.
The laughter eventually died down, as dinner came to an end.
One by one, they returned to their rooms. That night, Danir collapsed onto his bed almost instantly. His body was beyond exhausted. The moment his head touched the pillow, darkness claimed him.
Soon, the entire mansion went silent as the last candle was extinguished.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks turned into months.
Every morning, Danir trained. Every afternoon, he pushed himself further. Every night, he endured the soreness, the stiffness, the shaking muscles. He kept going as he completed a thousand squat-thrusts per day of his seventy winter days with only a handful of rest days in between.
Snowstorms raged outside as the world remained frozen. But inside his room, sweat soaked the wooden floor almost daily.
He knew he was different. The only ungifted one in the Granger family. No monstrous talent, no abnormal affinity, or a mysterious blessing. Just effort, relentless effort.
By the time winter finally loosened its grip and the first signs of spring appeared, three brutal months had passed.
The snow melted slowly from the rooftops. The air no longer bit as sharply. Their return to Scalebound Citadel was approaching.
On the final evening before departure, Danir summoned his grimoire once more as the numbers glowed faintly in the dim room.
He stared at them in silence.
BP: 3,425+700=4,125
MP: 1,200
STR: 2,929+700=3,629
SPD: 2,927+700=3,627
END: 2,925+700=3,625
INT: 600
An additional 700 points to Strength, Speed, and Endurance.
His hands trembled slightly—not from exhaustion this time, but from something else, relief.
"Hard work really does pay off…" he whispered to himself.
He wasn't smiling widely. He wasn't celebrating. But for the first time in a long while, he felt like he wasn't standing completely still. The gap between him and his brothers still existed. But now? It didn't feel impossible. And that was enough.