The morning in Hage Village began quietly.
The church was just starting to wake up when Asta slipped outside with the oversized wooden sword resting on his shoulder.
His training routine had grown heavier over the past year.
What had started as simple exercises had slowly turned into a full daily schedule meant to strengthen every part of his body.
Today would be no different.
---
He reached the skull clearing just as the sun rose above the trees.
The massive skull still stood like a silent guardian over the field where he trained every day.
Asta placed the wooden sword against a rock and started with the first part of his routine.
Running.
He sprinted across the clearing, circling the open field several times.
His breathing deepened as his legs warmed up.
After several laps, he slowed to a jog before finally stopping.
Next came strength training.
Asta dropped to the ground and began push-ups.
Ten.
Twenty.
Fifty.
His arms moved steadily as he continued.
A hundred.
One hundred twenty.
His breathing grew heavier, but he didn't stop.
"One hundred fifty."
When he finished, his arms trembled slightly, but he pushed himself back to his feet.
This level of exercise had once seemed impossible.
Now it was simply the beginning.
---
The next part of training took him toward the trees surrounding the clearing.
Climbing had become an important exercise.
Asta jumped upward and grabbed the rough bark of a nearby trunk before quickly pulling himself higher.
Within seconds he reached the branches.
The branches swayed gently as he shifted his weight.
Carefully, he moved from one branch to another.
Sometimes he crouched and jumped between them.
Other times he simply walked slowly along a thick branch while keeping his balance.
The goal wasn't speed.
It was control.
Balance.
Awareness of where his body was positioned.
Once he nearly slipped while landing on a branch.
He grabbed another branch quickly and steadied himself.
"…Still sloppy."
After several minutes of moving between the trees, he jumped down and landed on the grass below.
---
Not far away, a fallen log lay across the ground.
Asta stepped onto it.
This exercise focused purely on balance.
He walked slowly along the narrow surface.
Step by step.
Sometimes he held the wooden sword while doing it.
Other times he practiced without the sword so he could focus on his footing.
Once he deliberately closed his eyes for a few seconds while standing on the log.
When he opened them again, he almost lost his balance.
"…Yeah. Not ready for that yet."
---
After finishing the balance training, Asta moved to another area of the clearing.
A pile of small rocks lay scattered near the edge of the field.
He crouched down and picked one up.
This was another exercise he had recently added.
Throwing practice.
Asta stepped back and chose a large tree trunk several meters away.
He threw the rock.
The stone struck the trunk with a dull thud.
Not very accurate.
He picked up another.
This time he focused more carefully.
His arm moved faster.
Thud.
Closer to the center.
He continued throwing stone after stone.
Some missed completely.
Others struck the tree.
The exercise helped train his aim and coordination.
Sometimes he even tried throwing while running or immediately after jumping from a rock.
The movement forced his body to react quickly.
Accuracy improved slowly with repetition.
After several minutes he finally stopped.
"…Good enough."
He wiped the dirt from his hands before moving on to the next part of his routine.
---
By midday he moved toward the nearby river.
Swimming had become another part of his training.
The water was cool when he stepped in.
At first he swam normally across the river.
The horizontal movement helped build endurance and breathing control.
But he didn't stop there.
Asta changed the exercise.
Instead of swimming forward, he dove underwater and practiced moving vertically.
He pushed himself downward, then kicked upward again.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
The vertical movement forced his body to work differently than normal swimming.
Water resistance made each motion slower and heavier.
After several repetitions, his arms and legs already felt tired.
Still, he continued.
By the time he climbed out of the river, water dripped from his hair and clothes.
His muscles burned from the effort.
---
When he returned to the clearing, the sun had begun its slow descent.
Now came the final part of training.
Asta picked up the oversized wooden sword.
The blade was carved from a thick tree trunk and was far heavier than any normal weapon.
But that was exactly why he used it.
He stood still for a moment, remembering something from his previous life.
Back then he had spent plenty of time watching random videos online.
Martial arts demonstrations.
Slow-motion combat clips.
Training explanations.
One thing had appeared again and again.
True power didn't come from the arms.
It started from the feet.
The legs pushed the ground.
The hips rotated.
That rotation traveled through the torso and shoulders until it finally reached the arms and the weapon.
Asta adjusted his stance.
Then he swung the sword.
The blade cut through the air with a loud whoosh.
He tried again.
This time he focused on rotating his hips as much as possible.
Legs.
Hips.
Shoulders.
Arms.
The swing felt heavier.
Stronger.
But after several attempts, pain began to spread across his lower back and waist.
That was exactly why most people never practiced like this.
Full power swings were dangerous.
Over-rotating the body could easily strain muscles or joints.
Even worse, repeated strain could cause hidden injuries that took weeks to heal.
Most fighters practiced controlled movements instead.
They repeated safe motions hundreds of times.
But Asta's situation was different.
Because of his Limit Break body, the damage from heavy training disappeared overnight.
His muscles recovered faster.
His body adapted.
So instead of holding back, he committed to the movement completely.
One hundred percent.
Sometimes even more.
He twisted his hips harder and swung again.
Then again.
Each strike pushed his body closer to its limit.
Some swings were sloppy.
Some nearly pulled him off balance.
But occasionally the movement aligned perfectly.
When that happened, the power behind the strike felt incredible.
After about twenty swings, his back muscles felt tight and sore.
Even lifting the sword again became difficult.
But he already knew what tomorrow morning would bring.
The soreness would be gone.
And his body would be slightly stronger.
So he forced out a few final swings before stopping.
Breathing heavily, Asta rested the wooden sword on his shoulder and looked toward the sky.
Far in the future waited the enormous Demon-Slayer Sword.
Compared to that weapon, this training blade was still small.
But if he could master the movements now…
Then someday he would be ready.
Asta took one last breath before starting the walk back toward Hage Village as the sun slowly disappeared behind the forest.