SMACK!
The Wooden Sword struck Colin's thigh again. The moment it hit, the faint orange-yellow glow covering his skin trembled violently. The Wooden Sword itself jolted, and nearly half of the force was deflected.
Colin clutched his head and took a deep breath.
The edges of his vision, already darkening, were filled with swimming yellow dots, and his head began to feel dizzy.
He didn't feel much pain, but the repeated Casting had drained his spirit.
"That's enough. From now on, train this way," Donkexes said, catching his breath.
He glanced at the human before him.
This guy had really pushed his mind to the absolute limit. Now he understood why Dorn, the gatekeeper, complained every day. The human's diligence was truly admirable.
'Talent and hard work.'
Donkexes mused to himself. 'Perhaps this is why humans, with their short lifespans of only a few decades, are able to dominate the Northern Lands.'
"I get it." Colin plopped down on the ground.
