The morning sun filtered through Jayden's curtains, painting his room in soft gold. He stirred, muscles aching from yesterday's brutal fight, but his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. The memory of the Earth Smasher's fall, the thrill of mastering his poison secretion—it had been worth every bruise.
He stretched, wincing slightly as his ribs protested, then rolled out of bed. His routine was methodical: a quick shower to wash away the lingering fatigue, a light breakfast of toast and eggs, and then his daily quests. The park was quiet at this hour, the air crisp with dew as he completed his tasks—collecting herbs, sparring with the training dummies, meditating beneath the ancient oak.
By the time he returned home, the sun was high, and his stomach growled. He ate in silence, savoring the simple pleasure of a meal earned through blood and sweat. Then, with a contented sigh, he trudged to his room, one goal burning in his mind:
*Sleep.*
He was *exhausted*.
