The dirt track was endless.
One hour passed. The heavy sound of hundreds of boots pounding the hard packed dirt changed. It became sloppy. It became a mess of dragging feet and ragged breathing.
The physical toll was brutal. Foundation Realm bodies were much stronger than mortals, but they had limits. The rich students from the capital hit their limits first. They had sprinted at the start to show off their power. Now, they were paying for it.
A boy in a customized silk uniform collapsed. He hit the dirt hard and rolled to a stop. He threw up his morning meal onto the track. He did not get back up.
He was the first to fall. He was not the last.
Every minute, another student dropped. They fell to their hands and knees, gasping for air. Their bodies simply shut down. The endless circle was breaking them.
Jin kept running.
He did not look at the fallen students. He kept his eyes fixed on the back of the person in front of him. He forced his lungs to expand. He used the harsh rhythm of his Devourer breathing technique. In. Hold. Out.
It burned. The air tasted like copper and dust.
He heard a soft thud behind him.
He glanced back over his shoulder. Luna was down. She lay completely flat on her stomach in the dirt. Her small chest heaved violently. She had pushed her fragile, unawakened body far past its breaking point just to keep up for an hour. She was completely empty.
Jin did not stop to help her. Stopping meant failing the metric. He turned his head forward and kept his legs moving.
Only twenty students were left running. They were the outer-rim mercenaries and the poorest scavengers. They were the ones used to starvation and physical misery.
Jin was among them, but his tank was running dry. His Foundation Level 4 muscles felt like wet clay. They were heavy, unresponsive, and screaming in agony.
Every step was a massive negotiation with his own nervous system. His brain told his legs to move. His legs refused. He forced them to move anyway.
Ten more minutes passed.
Fifteen more students dropped. Only five remained.
Jin's vision blurred. The steel weapons hanging on the walls turned into grey streaks. He could not feel his boots hitting the ground anymore. His legs were absolute jelly. The coiled energy in his core was entirely depleted.
He took one more step. His left knee simply unlocked.
There was no warning. The muscle fiber gave out. Jin fell forward.
He hit the hard dirt. The impact knocked the remaining wind out of his burning lungs. He skidded a few inches and stopped. He tried to push himself back up on his hands. His arms collapsed instantly. He was done.
The exact second Jin's chest hit the dirt, the tall instructor in the center of the arena moved.
The rhythmic tapping of his heavy leather boot stopped.
The instructor opened his eyes. They were cold and flat. He looked at the few remaining students who were barely jogging, and then at the hundreds of bodies littering the dirt floor.
"Good," the instructor said. His deep voice easily carried across the silent, panting arena. "Now stop."
A massive, collective sigh of relief washed over the dirt track.
The remaining runners collapsed immediately. The students who were already on the ground let their heads fall flat into the dust. It was over. They had survived the test. They thought they had earned a rest.
Jin lay in the dirt. He focused on drawing slow, shallow breaths. He waited for his heart rate to drop.
The instructor uncrossed his massive arms. He looked down at the exhausted teenagers.
"You are warmed up," the instructor stated bluntly. "Now the real physical conditioning begins."
The relief in the arena vanished instantly.
"Get on your feet," the instructor ordered. The command carried a heavy wave of Aether pressure. "Start doing squats. When your legs fail, start doing sit-ups. If you stop moving, I will throw you out of my class."
The words hit the students like a physical blow.
They looked at the giant man with pure horror. They wished they were dead. They wished they had never come to the Academy. The endless run had emptied their reserves, and now he wanted them to tear their muscles apart.
"Move!" the instructor roared. The sonic shockwave rattled the steel weapons on the walls.
Panic returned. The fear of failure overrode their absolute physical exhaustion.
Students began to push themselves off the dirt. It was a pathetic sight. Their arms shook violently. Their legs wobbled like wet noodles. They looked like newborn animals trying to stand for the first time.
Luna pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. She was covered in dirt. She looked like she was going to pass out, but she forced herself to stand. Her knees knocked together. She slowly lowered herself into a crude squat.
Jin pushed himself up.
His lower back felt incredibly tight, but the Iron-Blood Root had done its job. His spine did not crack. The deep tissue injury held together.
He stood up straight. His legs shook violently. He ignored the trembling.
He lowered his hips. He kept his back straight. He went down into a deep squat, then pushed himself back up. His thigh muscles screamed. The pain was sharp and blinding.
He went down again. And up.
Around him, the arena was filled with the sounds of quiet suffering.
Students were secretly shedding tears. The physical torture was breaking their pride and their minds. The rich kids from the capital were sobbing quietly as they forced their shaking legs to bend. The outer-rim mercenaries gritted their teeth so hard their gums bled.
Jin did not cry. He did not complain.
His corporate mind analyzed the instructor's method. It was brutal, but it was not mindless torture. It was a highly calculated biological process.
The endless run emptied their Aether cores and burned their oxygen reserves. It put their bodies into a state of absolute starvation. Now, the squats and sit-ups were physically tearing their muscle fibers apart while they were completely empty.
It was forced evolution.
When the class ended and they finally rested, their broken muscles would heal. But because they were starved, their bodies would aggressively pull in the ambient Aether of the Academy to repair the damage. The muscles would heal denser, heavier, and stronger.
It was the exact same logic as Jin's Devourer body strengthening technique. The instructor was just applying it to the entire class on a massive, agonizing scale.
Jin understood the return on investment. The pain was just the upfront cost.
He blocked out the sound of the crying students. He ignored the terrible burning in his legs. He focused entirely on the mechanics of his own body.
Down. Up. Down. Up.
His legs wobbled violently. He fell backward into the dirt. He did not waste time resting. He immediately rolled onto his back. He crossed his arms over his chest and started doing sit-ups.
His abdominal muscles cramped instantly. It felt like a hot knife twisting in his stomach.
He pulled his torso up. He lowered it back down.
The tall instructor walked slowly through the rows of suffering students. He did not carry a whip. He did not yell insults. His massive, intimidating presence was enough to keep them moving. He walked past Jin. He did not stop to praise him. He just kept walking.
Jin continued to pull himself up from the dirt. He was building his foundation. The physical conditioning had just begun.