POV: Arthur
Today, the sun rose over the training camp with the same heartless regularity as a metronome. Five AM. A brutal wake-up call. Assembly on the field.
Arthur stood among the other children, but something had changed. At first, it was subtle, but over the weeks, it became obvious. An empty space had formed around him. It wasn't planned or orchestrated. It was just... natural. It was as if the other children instinctively maintained a safety perimeter they refused to cross.
Arthur watched this with clinical detachment. He recognized the pattern. He had seen this before. In his previous life, after his third Olympic gold medal, his teammates had acted exactly the same way. Respect mixed with fear. Admiration tinged with resignation. And finally, distance.
"WARM-UP! TEN LAPS!" Gareth barked.
The children moved together in a compact group. All except Arthur. He stayed still for a moment, looking at the weighted bands he had prepared. Not enough, he thought.
His progress was hitting a plateau. He was still getting stronger, faster, and tougher, but the speed of his growth had slowed down. To break the wall, he had to push harder.
Without a word, Arthur knelt and strapped weights to his ankles. He didn't just use his normal weights. He doubled them. Then tripled them.
Surprised whispers broke out.
"What is that?"
"Is he really going to run with those?"
"That's at least twenty kilos per leg..."
Arthur ignored them. He added weighted bands to his wrists and a heavy belt around his waist. Total? About seventy kilograms—more than his own body weight. He stood up slowly, feeling his muscles strain. Finally, a challenge.
Gareth looked at him with a mix of disbelief and respect. "Are you sure about this, Arthur?"
Arthur simply nodded.
"Fine. But if you collapse, it's on you."
POV: Iode
Iode watched Arthur strap on those ridiculous weights with a feeling he couldn't quite name. Frustration? Surely. Jealousy? Probably. But also... respect.
Over the last few weeks, Iode had stopped calling Arthur a "bastard." He stopped provoking him. He realized that insulting someone who is so much better than you is just pathetic. Arthur was a force of nature. And Iode, for the first time in his life, felt... inadequate.
He was the son of the Family Head, the heir to the Berher clan. He was promised greatness. Yet, here was the son of a commoner surpassing him in every way.
"GO!" Gareth shouted.
The children took off. Arthur started too, but his movements were heavy and labored. For the first time in months, Arthur was sweating. Really sweating. By the fourth lap, many children had passed him. Arthur was in the middle of the pack, his face tight with effort.
But then, Iode saw it. A smile.
Despite the pain and exhaustion, Arthur was smiling. It wasn't arrogant. It was a happy smile. As if he had finally found what he was looking for.
This guy is completely insane, Iode thought. But I understand. Iode also knew that visceral need to push until the body screams. We are the same, really. Two idiots obsessed with getting stronger. The only difference is... he's actually succeeding.
POV: Nicolas
Nicolas was running a few rows ahead of Arthur. He looked back and saw Arthur struggling. A small, dark part of Nicolas felt a petty satisfaction. Finally, he suffers like the rest of us.
But that feeling vanished instantly, replaced by sadness. Nicolas knew that as soon as Arthur took those weights off, he would be an untouchable monster again. Arthur's suffering was a choice. Nicolas's suffering was just his limit.
The gap isn't closing. It's widening.
Nicolas had started keeping his distance. Being near Arthur was a constant reminder of his own failure. Seeing Arthur succeed effortlessly while Nicolas bled for every inch of progress was mentally exhausting. So, he stepped back. One step, then two, then three. Now, there was a canyon between Arthur and everyone else.
POV: Teresa
Teresa ran in silence. She moved like a shadow—present, but easy to forget. She had been observing Arthur for her report to the Earth Shadows.
At first, it was professional. But it had turned into fascination. To her, Arthur was a paradox. Physically superhuman, but emotionally distant. Brilliant, but isolated.
She looked at him struggling with the weights and saw the smile. Ah, she thought. There. That's the real Arthur. Not a cold genius, but a boy who finds joy in the pain of effort. A boy who is just as obsessed and crazy as the rest of us.
She revised her mental report: Arthur Berher. Potential: Unlimited. Weakness: Solitude. Exploitable? ...Maybe.
POV: Arthur
Sixth lap. Arthur's legs were burning. His lungs screamed. His heart hammered in his chest. Damn. This is hard.
But he loved it. It had been so long since he felt a real physical challenge. Since his reincarnation, everything had been too easy.
He felt his muscle fibers tearing. He felt his Absolute Physical Adaptation kick in with an intensity he hadn't felt in months. Mana particles rushed into his body, repairing the damage and making him stronger.
Ninth lap. Tenth lap. He crossed the line last. His legs gave out immediately. He collapsed on the ground, shaking and drenched in sweat.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
• Absolute Physical Adaptation: ACTIVATED
• Mana Absorption: MAXIMAL
• Endurance: +5 | Strength: +3 | Agility: +2
Yes! This was it. This was the growth he wanted. Not just dominating easily, but struggling and growing. He lay on the ground, savoring the exhaustion.
POV: External — Two Weeks Later
Time passed. Arthur had become a ghost. He was there for every drill and won every duel, but he was socially absent.
Iode no longer challenged him. Nicolas was polite but distant. Teresa watched from the shadows. The other children looked at Arthur like an exotic animal in a zoo—with fear and wonder, but never with friendship. No one sat with him at meals. No one joked with him.
Arthur had become an island. And the worst part? He didn't seem to care.
POV: Arthur — Night in the Dormitory
Arthur sat in the lotus position on his bed, meditating. To his right, Nicolas was snoring. To his left, Iode was reading. Total silence.
Part of Arthur—the part that remembered being an orphan in his past life—recognized the pattern. The solitude of the top. In his past life, after winning gold, his teammates stopped seeing him as an equal. They saw him as a brand or an investment.
Does it bother me? he wondered. ...No. Not really. I'm used to it.
He thought of his mother, Anastasia. She was the only one who loved him unconditionally. I do this for her. So no one will ever look down on her again. The rest? Their opinions don't matter.
[Mana: 18 (+3)]
A little more, and I'll form my core before anyone else. Then they will understand that the "bastard" they looked down on... is their future master.
POV: Gareth — Instructors' Office
"This is exactly what Marquoc wanted to avoid," Gareth said, looking at his report.
Liora read over his shoulder. "Arthur Berher: Exceptional progression. Mana absorption: abnormally fast. Social relations: non-existent."
Fire-Skull laughed bitterly. "It reads like a report on a magic artifact, not a five-year-old kid."
"That's the problem," Gareth said. "He's becoming a weapon, not a leader. The other children have accepted that he is just too far above them."
Gareth stood up and looked out the window. "We need to speed up the plan. The Forest Camp. We have to act before his isolation becomes permanent. We need to force him to depend on others before he becomes completely self-sufficient."
"A hostile environment," Fire-Skull nodded. "Where even Arthur can't handle everything alone."
Gareth spread a map on the table. "The Deep Forest. Three days. Two nights. Awakened monsters. Dangerous terrain. Even Arthur will have to cooperate. Iode as the strategist, Nicolas as the shield, Teresa as the scout."
"And if he still handles it alone?" Liora asked.
Gareth smirked. "Then we'll make sure the situation is difficult enough to make that impossible. We depart in three days."
"I hope the kid doesn't surprise us again," Fire-Skull said.
"Oh, he will surprise us," Gareth replied. "The question is: will he surprise us positively, or will he prove he's just a lonely monster who can't work in a team?"
The three instructors exchanged a look and left the room. On the desk, the report on Arthur remained. One word was underlined in red at the bottom: URGENT.