Leo started the first day already shaking, arms locked straight, palms pressed into the floorboards, holding his body inches above the ground, sweat running down his ribs. His breath came slow and forced through his nose.
"Just a little more," he muttered.
At this point Leo thought of just stopping; the day had just started, he was still injured and should be resting, but he was pushing his body to its limits for a promise of getting stronger that he had no way of knowing if it would work. Still, he ignored the thought and continued.
His injured leg hovered useless behind him, as he could feel the bandages pulling tight around his calf, with every instinct screaming not to put weight on it. He shifted onto his shoulders and core instead, grinding his teeth as the burn persisted.
One of the maids stood at the edge of the room, tall and still. Her head angled slightly as she watched with curious interest. Leo felt eyes on him like he was being judged and couldn't tell if she was impressed or disappointed.
His arms buckled, but he forced them straight again, held for three more breaths, then let himself drop. The floor thudded softly beneath him.
That was how it started. He worked around the injury, focusing on upper-body holds until his arms trembled uncontrollably, grip exercises that left his fingers numb, then raw.
He hung from beams until his shoulders felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets. Then balance drills came next: stones set along the edge of the compound, slick with moss, one foot only. He fell multiple times, and each time, a maid repositioned the stones without comment.
Axiom spoke only when Leo pushed himself into bad habits. Leo would adjust, fail, adjust again.
On the second day, one of the maids changed his bandages. Her movements were quick and efficient. Her sleeves slid back just enough to show red skin marked with white fluid patterns. The bandages were removed in smooth loops, and when cool air touched his skin, Leo felt a pause.
She had stopped.
It was then Leo recognized the absence of pain in his leg. The wound was gone. The skin along his calf was smooth, as if he had not gotten a deep wound two days prior. He was mind-blown but kept his composure. He had proof now that made him more confident in the training and hardened his resolve.
The maid soon resumed rewrapping his leg anyway, tighter than before without questioning anything, then went back to her station as Leo resumed yesterday's training. Even if the leg felt okay, he didn't want to push his luck.
-----
From the third day on, Leo had asked the maids for assistance with training at Axiom's suggestion, to which they seemed too eager to help.
Two maids appeared at dawn and led Leo to a forest trail. The path twisted uphill, roots crossing like tripwires. They moved ahead with effortless grace while Leo's lungs burned within minutes.
"Keep up," one said.
Leo pushed harder. The trail climbed steep, then dropped sharply. Sharp turns. Sudden stops. Hard pivots that sent pain through his ankles if he hesitated. He fell twice, pushed up immediately, kept moving.
When they circled back to the compound, his vision blurred. He dropped to his knees.
One maid handed him water.
"Again," she said.
"I can't" Leo replied.
She crouched down, red eyes unblinking through her mask. "This is the point you break through your body's current limit. So push it."
Leo forced himself to stand. Started running.
The second loop was worse, every muscle screaming. But halfway through, something shifted. The burning eased. His breathing steadied. By the end, he was still standing when he should have collapsed.
The maids exchanged a glance. One pressed her hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Held it. Nodded.
"Interesting," she murmured.
They handed him food. Leo tore into it, grains, meat, vegetables. Finished the first portion in minutes. The maid brought more. Then more again.
By the fourth serving, Leo noticed. His appetite had never been like this.
"Your body seem to be rebuilding itself," the maid said. "It needs fuel. Some people are born with special constitutions: poison resistance, enhanced recovery. You seem to be one them. You might have been much stronger if you had prior training."
At the end of training they moved with grace despite having kept up with him. Their layered cloth shifted cleanly with each step, never snagging, never tugging at their legs, while he was heaving and could barely stand straight.
His eyes lingered longer than they should have, following the subtle sway of hips beneath layered cloth.
He exhaled sharply and forced his gaze away.
"See something you like?" Axiom said, flat and immediate.
"Shut up," Leo muttered under his breath.
That night Leo ate until moving hurt, then collapsed. Sleep hit like a hammer. His body burned everything, already rebuilding.
The training continued like that with the same intensity the next day, maids increased portions of food making sure his body had enough fuel to do it's thing.
----
The fifth day focused on blade work. The wooden practice sword was heavier than expected. The maid stood across from Leo, relaxed.
"Attack me."
Leo swung. Clumsy. She sidestepped. Her blade hit his ribs. Hard.
"Again."
Each attempt failed. Every attack telegraphed, every movement wrong. The wooden blade found his thigh, forearm, shoulder. Precise impacts. Just hard enough to hurt.
"Your weight is wrong," she said after the tenth exchange. "You lean forward when you swing."
She demonstrated. "Weight stays centered. Blade moves first."
Each mistake earned immediate correction through pain. Overextend, strike to exposed side. Wrong footwork, blade catches the leg. Weak grip, weapon knocked away.
By midday, Leo's body was covered in bruises. But he was learning. Not consciously. Through repetition. His body remembered what worked. The correct distance. Proper weight distribution.
The losses became smaller. Less catastrophic.
"Better," she said as the sun set. The first praise all day.
Dinner waited in his quarters. More food than he had seen on one table. Leo ate until his stomach hurt, then kept eating. The bruises were already fading faster than they should. That healing required energy.
He finished and fell onto the mattress. Sleep took him immediately, eight hours straight. When he woke, bruises had faded to yellow. Blisters were sealing over.
His body was learning faster than his mind could track.
The maids started preparing triple portions for every meal. Leo ate all of it. His body had become a furnace, burning through calories at an impossible rate. Sleep came easily now, ten to twelve hours. His body demanded the rest. Adaptation did not happen for free.
Everything repeated again, the sixth day, even pushing the intensity a bit further.
---
On day seventh it was grappling.
"No weapons today," the maid said. "Just you."
Two maids faced him, outer robes removed. Lean, powerful builds.
"Grappling. You need to know how to fight when you have lost your blade."
The first closed distance before Leo could react. Twisted his wrist and shoulder. His balance vanished. He hit the ground hard.
Her knee pressed his chest, hand at his throat. "You're dead." She released him. "Again."
She took him down differently each time. Leg sweep. Hip throw. Arm drag. Each ended with Leo on the ground and her positioned to kill.
After the seventh time, she stayed mounted. Found his wrist, twisted it back. Her other hand pressed his elbow at a wrong angle. Pain shot through his shoulder.
Her weight pressed down on his chest. Through the fitted undergarment, he felt the heat of her body, the firmness of her thighs bracketing his ribs. Even through pain, his body noticed.
"Find the counter," she said calmly. "I won't release until you do."
Leo struggled. Vision dimming. Panic rising. The joint was going to give.
He forced himself to think. Her position. Her weight. What that exposed.
His free hand found her hip. Pushed toward her, rotating her body. Her base shifted. Leo bridged hard, driving his hips up. She had to release to avoid falling.
Leo scrambled away, gasping.
"Good. Took too long, but you found it." She gestured to her companion. "Now we both attack."
The next hour was brutal. Two opponents, perfect coordination. They forced him into locks and chokes, releasing only when he found counters or passed out trying.
By the end, Leo could not move. Muscles completely spent.
That night Leo ate like he was starving. Dish after dish. His skin felt hot, not feverish, just warm. His body worked overtime, rebuilding everything denser.
He drank until bloated, ate until moving hurt. Even resting, his heart rate stayed elevated. Burning through everything consumed.
Sleep took him for twelve hours.
When morning came, he felt different. Harder. Soreness gone. Joints smoother. Adaptation was visible now. Real. His body was becoming something more. And it was hungry for more.
----
By the eighth day, they had pushed Leo near death multiple times. Pain felt familiar to him, and he seemed to now enjoy the burning sensation in his muscles.
"Again," he rasped.
And they were very happy to oblige.
His body went through a lot of changes within that short time, optimizing and only keeping suitable adaptations. Training had stripped the excess away. What remained was dense and deliberate, muscle packed tight enough that his body looked carved.
From the edge of the compound grounds, the pale oni had been watching but never spoke.
Leo had tried to speak to her a few times, but she never responded or acknowledged his presence.
That night, Axiom spoke uninterrupted as Leo moved through slow stretches, muscles quivering under their own weight, sweat prickling at his temples.
"Due to your body stabilizing and strengthening," it said, "Your body initially adapts only momentarily to stimulation. After stabilization, it can now retain some small changes and for longer."
Leo felt it in his arms—every fiber remembering the tension, the burn from earlier drills. He flexed his fingers, testing control, noticing how his joints responded more smoothly than before.
"Physically," Axiom continued, "you have crossed into a second star by aura standards. Your body can now endure sustained combat. But understand, this was accelerated. Most take years to build this foundation. Your adaptation compressed it into days. Further growth will need to come naturally."
Leo exhaled slowly, letting his shoulders drop. He rolled his neck, listening to the soft creak of his own spine. The ache from days of training throbbed, but it was tempered now, almost pleasurable.
What took others years, his adaptation compressed into days.
"You have also gathered enough mana in your core for ring formation, but don't worry about that for now" it added.
A tingle crawled along his forearms, like static electricity dancing under the skin. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the faint hum of something new within him. His breath caught for a moment, excitement mixing with fatigue.
"And what are my chances of surviving the hunt now?" Leo asked, letting out a slow breath.
"You should now be able to complete it safely," Axiom said. "That is as long as you don't try hunting something too dangerous."
Leo pressed deeper into the stretch, toes brushing the floor. Muscles hummed, ribs rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths.
Is everything I've done really enough? he thought. Enough to survive? What if I missed something that'll get me killed?
His fingers flexed against the wood, legs pressed forward, and for a moment he imagined the wolf again—the sheer speed, the weight, the teeth. He clenched his fists against the floor, letting the tension steady him.
I can handle it… I have to.
Leo exhaled slowly. He let the stretch out fully, then rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. The body felt different now—stronger, taut, ready. But the mind… the mind kept spinning, racing ahead to the hunt.
He rose, eased into a hot bath, letting the warmth seep into every sore muscle. Steam curled around him, and he closed his eyes, tracing the memories of the past days: the maids' silent guidance, the relentless drills, the pulse of his own adaptation.
Water ran over his shoulders as he straightened, the tension loosening but not disappearing. He stepped out, towel around his shoulders, and slid into the mattress.
You can't control what's out there, Leo. All you can do is trust yourself and what you've learned, he told himself.
Leo exhaled, letting the weight of everything settle, and sleep finally came.
The ninth day, the last day before the event, was slow and simple for Leo.
With no training to be done, he wandered the compound and the gardens and forest at the backyard of the compound till evening. He then climbed up to a vantage point he had found overlooking most of the outpost.
From there, he could see it all.
The scale of the preparation. The pattern of lanterns lit that beautified everywhere, and how small beastmen, oni, and some other races he couldn't really name looked from up there.
There was awe in his eyes. Despite the circumstances he had found himself in, he couldn't help but acknowledge the beauty of it all.
Uncertainty also started to rise again as he thought about tomorrow, but he quickly shook it off.
"There was no point in getting worried now," he told himself. "I've prepared as best as I can… If I do end up surviving this thing…"
His mind flashed to Axiom's words about how he'd lived before—the endless caution, the hubris of thinking he could control everything, the reckless chain of events that led to death, reincarnation, and that insane chase with the wolf.
A small chuckle escaped him. Axiom had once asked if he planned to live this life like the last. Now, staring down the hunt, he finally had an answer.
"...I'll try living much more selfishly, and enjoy it all to its fullest."
His attention shifted to the footsteps approaching.
The pale oni had joined him up there. She made sure to make her presence known.
Up close, he noticed the way her evening attire balanced elegance and ease, a loose flowing robe that draped over her shoulders and flowed down her body, the soft fabric naturally conforming to her curves without restraint.
"Damn," he thought.
"How do you feel about tomorrow?" she asked. "Nervous or excited?"
"A bit of both," Leo said honestly. "But I definitely feel ready."
"You do seem much more ready now than you were before."
She'd noticed Leo now had the aura levels of a two-star aura user, which isn't crazy for someone at Leo's age, but it is impressive that it happened under a week. She also noticed he had mana as well, something incredibly rare. He now seemed a bit interesting.
They watched the outpost together, enjoying the scene before them for a while in silence.
Leo hesitated for a bit, then smiled faintly. "If I survive the hunt… you tell me your name."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then smiled.
"Win, and I'll tell you much more than that," she said as she turned around and walked away. Leo couldn't help but watch.
Without the usual wrappings binding her form, the loose evening kimono revealed her natural figure, large breasts that moved freely beneath the flowing fabric, swaying slightly with each step. Her narrow waist flared dramatically into wide hips and thick thighs, her backside full and rounded.
At her height, every proportion was amplified, powerful and feminine in equal measure, the loose garment emphasizing rather than concealing what lay beneath.
"Damn," Leo thought again, watching her walk away.
That night, the outpost roared with sound. Leo slept, anticipating the future with a smile. Morning would come, and with it, the hunt.