Wein attended the morning meeting and ended the day uneventfully. After the hour-long discussion, he returned to his room to prepare for training.
According to several Gladius members, Wein was required to train for a full two months before being formally introduced, considering his combat skills were still limited—something that slightly offended him.
Leon had lived long enough to master hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, and even weapons far more advanced than theirs. He requested the duration be shortened to a month and a half.
Only two weeks were cut, but that was enough for him to rest before being formally presented at the palace and the grand celebration that would be held in this flying castle.
And today was his first day of training. Wein walked through the corridor toward the highest floor, passing luxurious and fully equipped facilities until he saw a large room awaiting him up ahead.
He immediately headed there after noticing the words "Training Room" above it. Without hesitation, Wein entered and looked around, spotting a muscular yet athletic man—strong but not overly bulky.
The man held a wooden sword he had crafted to support himself and only turned toward Wein once he realized someone was waiting.
"You must be Wein? Come in!" said the man cheerfully, raising his hand as his triceps flexed beneath the thin shirt he wore.
"Indeed. This is a great training room," Wein complimented as he approached the man to begin his first day.
"Alright then, a few of the Gladius asked me to go easy on you and make this training as effective as possible. They also requested that you have time to rest," he chuckled before focusing. "They said young people these days need entertainment during their breaks."
Annoying Gladius. I bet I know who said that, Wein thought, though truth be told, most young people nowadays did prefer resting over doing anything productive when tired.
That fact held true even in his past life.
"Alright, today we'll begin with close-range combat," the man said knowledgeably, assuming a defensive stance with both hands raised to his forehead in a guard position.
Seriously? Wein thought to himself, stepping a few paces back and raising his clenched fists to protect his jaw.
"You've got a different fighting style, kid." Given how fighting in this world still adhered to traditional techniques, Wein introduced a few moves that might seem unorthodox.
In combat—Wein dodged the first strike, pulling his body back as the man swiftly moved in and struck at his legs with a kick.
His legs were pushed forward, almost causing him to fall. Wein was surprised by the speed and precision. Their eyes briefly locked before he fully withdrew.
"You've got some remarkable endurance, kid." The man grinned behind his fists held firmly to guard his head. "Oh, right… I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Alan Stepping, or Alan Mills Stepping. You can call me Mills."
"Nice to—" Wein didn't have time to finish. A flat hand—its nails just inches from his face—lunged toward him. He barely avoided it with quick reflexes.
Mills' doubtful expression faded as he smiled once more, impressed by Wein's ability to dodge his powerful strike. "Hit me. Don't just dodge, kid," Mills said.
This was a lesson, not words meant to stir emotion in his body. Wein quickly braced himself, his calves tensing and veins bulging as he launched a sudden strike.
He swung his arm from the right like a missile. Mills, clearly seeing the direction, chose to evade upward rather than backward.
Wein moved his legs swiftly for a follow-up strike. His arms had been a feint—but Mills read the movement as the arm pulled back too quickly, making it obvious.
Mills stepped back, momentarily tricked by the misdirection. He stretched his body and made a small hop.
"Nice attempt at deception, but you're still not skilled enough," he said, shifting. He was now right in front of Wein Arcveil, mid-swing and only seconds from launching him.
"I guess I underestimated you, kid." Kaboom! Wein took a solid punch that sent him flying straight into the wall.
His reinforced body absorbed the impact thanks to kinetic energy converted into mana through his self-made mana panel—an efficient method at his current level.
That energy would develop further, becoming stored reserves from the strain he'd endured earlier. The more impacts he took, the more mana he gathered from the kinetic force.
Damn it, Wein cursed as he stood up, aching and exhausted. The training went on, day after day, until a full month had passed.
One month after the first session.
"Incredible." Wein dodged and counterattacked. Mills blocked by crossing his arms in an X to absorb the punch.
With tremendous speed, Wein's fist came like a rocket. He swung low before aiming to lock Mills' ribs—not Walker, but Alan Mills Stepping.
With great precision and speed, the strike connected—but Mills had installed a mana panel focused on that area. A few days ago, Wein had targeted his stomach, ribs, and jaw.
Those areas were now protected by thick mana panels, but not his legs. There was a time when Wein had landed a kick that brought Mills down.
Was this pattern making him focus on his weak points?
"You let your guard down, Wein," said Mills as he shoved Wein hard with an open palm against his ribcage, sending him crashing into the wall again.
"Yeah… I was analyzing your mana patterns," he said, scratching his head in frustration as he tried to get back up.
After training for twelve hours a day, nonstop, three days remained. Wein returned to the room full of energy.
Mills waved at him and held up a silver orb with a black pupil-like sphere inside it.
Wein glanced at the object as he approached, pointing at it before asking seriously, "What is that?"
"This is a 'Dimensional ORB.' It can manipulate time inside this world," Mills said excitedly. "I spent a whole night searching for this in the storage room," he added proudly.
"Let's train," said Mills right after.
"Yeah, I suppose this is a way to honor your effort in finding it." Wein followed behind, already geared up.
Mills bent down to gently place the advanced Runex device on the floor. He rotated the orb until a red light pulsed rhythmically.
"Here it is. We'll train in here," said Mills. "Touch it and you'll—" He vanished, his form sucked into the bowling-ball-sized orb like a ghost.
"Mills? You seriously just left me? Are you kidding?" Wein muttered, surprised as his mind tried to piece together what Mills had done to enter.
He said to touch this part, but nothing happened when Wein first tried. Minutes passed, and he grew irritated, attempting one final time before tapping the spot Mills had indicated.
Glllowp! He was pulled in.
"Wein! I've been waiting for ages. What took you so long?" Mills grumbled, but Wein was too mesmerized by the view to hear.
He looked down—clear water reflecting his image, calm and ankle-deep. He walked toward Mills, who sat on a lone stone in this mirrored room.
"How are there so many mirrors?" Wein asked, approaching the visibly annoyed Mills, who smiled as he got closer
"Ugh! You know, these aren't mirrors. This is a world without boundaries—it's all sky. You can see everything without buildings, mountains, or trees blocking the view," said Mills.
"And you know what I like most?" Mills perked up, stomping his foot a few times to make splashes, making Wein more curious.
"What is it?"
"A room that manipulates time. Eight hours in here equals just one hour outside. So we can train as much as we want. Oh, and in this space, you won't get sleepy, hungry, or thirsty—so there's no excuse to leave."
His excited expression stood in stark contrast to Wein's sullen face as he cursed silently in his mind.