[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Task Available
Objective: [1000 push-ups. 1000 squats. 1 hour 30 minutes shadowboxing].
Ti Limit: [3 hours].
Penalty: [?]
In every tight situation or critical mont where Daylan needed a win, the system pushed him harder by assigning the challenge as a mandatory task—often with severe penalties attached.
These penalties gave Daylan even more reason to persevere and secure victory. The system also issued side tasks prior to such incidents, each adding pressure but ultimately shaping his resolve.
This raised a few questions in Daylan's mind. Was it rely a coincidence that the system hadn't tasked him with killing the imp? Or did it know he wasn't ready to face it?
The world doesn't wait for broken hearts—Daylan knew that all too well. Still, it was clear the system wasn't offering him sympathy.
With over six tasks cramd into just three days, it was more like being shoved to his feet than gently nudged, leaving him no room to breathe, let alone rest.
Aside from the relentless tasks he'd faced over the past three days, Daylan and the others also visited the hideout Astara had secured for them—a wooden cabin tucked away in the eastern district, near the edge of the city and not far from the outer walls.
However, they knew it would be unwise to act too soon. After all, they were still weak, and targeting those even weaker than themselves wouldn't make them any stronger. So before making any moves, they agreed on one thing—they needed to level up first.
It was absurd to think they could close such a wide gap in strength within just a week or two—but they had no other choice. At that mont, their priority wasn't revenge—it was keeping Daylan alive.
So, no matter what it took—sleepless nights or even a piece of their souls—they were determined to grow stronger. And deep down, they believed that as long as they stood together, they could overco anything.
Their options for intense training grounds were limited. Though Daylan had suggested they at least speak with Ael to see if he'd be willing to train them, Astara quickly ruled it out—her reasons were personal, and she didn't care to explain.
With no other option but the monastery, it beca their destination at the end of the three days. One week of intense training—just a week—was all they had, and they chose to believe it would be enough.
Without a mont to spare, they moved through the early morning fog, making their way to the monastery.
They were already a bit into the tenth month—aning, according to Astara's contract with Captain Stanley, they still had three months left before the following year. Their visit, then, was entirely unexpected.
Flanked by Daylan and dora, Astara led the way as they pushed through the awkward, envious glances of onlookers and headed straight for the training center.
The mont they arrived, Astara didn't waste a single minute—she headed off to et Lieutenant Bruce. dora dove straight into training, her massive sword slicing through the air with precision, while Daylan stood silently, watching her movents with a still, unreadable gaze.
Daylan couldn't quite tell what dora was doing, but with each of her strikes, the room seed to grow noticeably hotter. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he watched her, trying to make sense of it. Before he could piece anything together, Astara returned.
She had secured two additional training centers, giving each of them space to train individually without getting in each other's way. Without saying a word, she gestured for Daylan to follow. She was going to show him his designated space before heading off to her own.
It was almost identical to their previous training center—a near-perfect replica. But that wasn't what Daylan cared about right now.
With daylight being his greatest weakness, Daylan chose to train exclusively under the glow of the crystal bulbs for the entire week. Quietly, he slipped off his shirt and began his training without hesitation.
He had to burn through his resolve, focusing primarily on long-distance attacks. While his thods weren't as refined or powerful as Astara's star aspect blades or dora's fire aspect, he developed his own style.
Using Spiral Form, he could materialize simple, sharp weapons—short knives, shuriken, and anything else his mind could conjure for ranged combat.
However, he needed to perfect it—learning how to launch these weapons with both accuracy and precision and seamlessly integrate them into his usual fighting style.
Despite this being his primary focus, he never neglected his close-combat training. The system never gave him the luxury to.
For four days, he didn't see sunlight even once. als were brought to him on Astara's orders, and the training center had its own washroom, leaving him with no reason to step outside.
Knowing the others train just as relentlessly—whether for their own reasons or not, in that mont, it was for him—left him with little desire to rest. So he pushed himself, training with the sa unyielding intensity.
It was already late into the fifth day when Daylan completed a task assigned by the system. Exhausted, he dropped to the floor, sweat dripping from his body as he tried to catch his breath.
Spiral Force System
[SPIRAL FORCE SYSTEM]
All things grow when they tarn. All truths are found in layers. All power builds when cycled.
Type: Advanced Ability
SUB-ABILITIES
Spiral Edge: 55% per cycle.
Spiral Ti: Rewind up to 40 minutes. Max 7 loops per day.
Spiral Force: Imagine and it shall be yours. Max 10 per day.
Spiral Mind: To slip into another's skin at will, and taste the world through borrowed senses. Less focus.
Dark Spiral: 60% per use. 30 minutes. Max 8 per day.
"What? What must it take to make you a mastery ability?" He muttered, frustrated.
At that instant, he felt the ground tremble beneath him, and the room suddenly grew hotter than usual. Without hesitation, he sprang to his feet and sprinted outside. Only one person he knew had the capacity to cause sothing like this—dora. And he needed to check on her.
As he approached dora's training hall, Daylan saw a few chivalries retreating from the entrance, unable to withstand the rising heat. Others, seemingly immune to it, stood at the front, watching intently as a smoky haze drifted from the hall—heat radiating so intensely it seed to evaporate the very air.
Energy Manifest
The mont he got close, Daylan maneuvered his way through the crowd and stepped into the room. Everything inside was bathed in red; it was as if dora was heating the very concrete itself. Squinting through the thick smoke, Daylan spotted her standing side by side with Astara—and in front of them stood Lieutenant Bruce.
Lieutenant Bruce's white sleeve was rolled up, the scar on his face glowed red, and the fury in his eyes made it clear—he wasn't taking this fight lightly. Yet, despite his apparent immunity to the heat, he looked exhausted. It was as if the intensity was burning him from the inside out.
In an instant, they dove back into the fight. Lieutenant Bruce didn't just seem immune to the heat—his speed was incredible. Though not as fast as the creature they had faced before, he was exceptionally quick for a human. And his strength... it bordered on the supernatural.
Daylan could tell that Bruce possessed super speed, likely tied to a Luck-based ability. His scar, Daylan suspected, was his Worth Artifact—but its aspect remained unclear. It granted him heat immunity and imnse strength, yet it didn't align with any single aspect Daylan could recognize.
But dora and Astara were holding their own surprisingly well. They moved in sync—Astara tracked his movents, using her star to blind his vision at just the right mont, giving dora the opening she needed to unleash a devastating fireball.
It seed to be working—they were able to land strikes and hold their own. But their attacks weren't dealing any serious damage.
At most, they forced him to back off slightly, thanks to his poor resistance to fire rather than the impact of the blows themselves.
As the fight wore on, Daylan focused on Bruce—how each of his strikes could send them flying and how even when Astara's blade connected, it left only a shallow scratch.
Though it was just a theory, Daylan concluded that Lieutenant Bruce's aspect was adaptation. Simply put, he could adjust to anything, so long as he understood its limits.
The reason he couldn't fully withstand dora's flas was likely because this was his first ti seeing her push them to such extres—and the first ti he'd fought her directly.
He wished his analysis could have made a difference—but before he knew it, both dora and Astara had been knocked unconscious.
The chivalries began dispersing to their various duties as Lieutenant Bruce lifted Astara into his arms. Without a word, he gestured for Daylan to pick up dora and then took the lead, heading toward the infirmary.
Without a mont's hesitation, Daylan rushed over, lifted dora into his arms, and followed Bruce's lead. Just monts into their walk to the infirmary, Lieutenant Bruce finally spoke.
"Just so you know," Lieutenant Bruce said, his voice steady and cold, "Lady Astara says I'll be dueling with you tomorrow. Prepare."
It didn't sound like a threat—more like an invitation to hell.
Huh?—he wore a confused expression.
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