The blue-white light continued to circulate through Mike's body, wave after wave, never breaking its rhythm.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Hour after hour, Mike remained still, fully immersed in the Aurora Sword Art. Each cycle refined him further—strengthening his muscles, hardening his bones, widening his mana channels. Thin strands of dark mist slowly seeped out of his pores, the impurities expelled by the cold, purifying energy.
Unbeknownst to him, footsteps stopped outside his door.
Elina stood there, holding a small tray of food in her hands. She hesitated for a moment before quietly pushing the door open just enough to peer inside.
Mike was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, his body faintly glowing with blue-white light. Frosty air curled around him, forming wisps that vanished as quickly as they appeared.
"He's training…" she murmured.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer.
