After nearly an hour of training under the system's guidance, Santoryu could barely move. His muscles screamed with pain, each step heavier than the last. Every joint ached, every breath felt labored.
Just then, the system's voice returned, calm and clinical in his mind:
"That's enough for today, Host. You may now prepare the herb solution. Mix it into a hot bath for maximum effect."
Santoryu gave a slow nod, barely able to raise his head. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in deep shades of orange and gold. Evening had arrived without him noticing.
Dragging his feet slightly, Santoryu made his way inside and found his mother.
"Mother," he said, voice low but steady, "can you prepare a hot bath for me? I need to soak."
She looked up from her work, concern briefly flashing across her face. Then she nodded gently.
"Of course. Wait here—I'll get it ready."
"Thank you," he said, then paused. "Also… where's the yagen? I need to grind the herb before I add it to the bath."
"It's in the kitchen," she replied. "But why grind it yourself? I'll take care of it once the bath is ready."
Santoryu shook his head. "No, you don't have to do all that. You still have to make dinner, and I can manage this much. It's my training—I'll handle it."
His mother studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. She didn't argue. She nodded and said, "Alright, as you wish."
With that, she left to prepare the hot bath.
Santoryu moved slowly, his limbs still sore from the intense training. He retrieved the yagen from the kitchen along with the bundle of herbs, then sat down to begin grinding. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his muscles, but he pushed through. This was pain he had to endure—pain he chose. He refused to let his mother shoulder all the work. She was already doing enough. He wouldn't add to her burden.
For the next twenty minutes, he ground the herbs with steady effort. Despite the fatigue, he focused on the task, his movements deliberate. When he was done, he carefully strained out the solid residue, leaving behind a thick, green herbal solution—concentrated and ready.
By the time he finished, the bath was ready as well.
He stepped into the bathroom and poured the herbal mixture into the tub. The water quickly turned a cloudy green, swirling with the essence of the herbs. Without hesitation, he eased himself into the bath.
At first, the water felt strange—almost uncomfortable. A slight tingling crept across his skin. Maybe the herbs were already working, seeping into his body and easing the pain. He gritted his teeth, waiting it out.
A few minutes passed, and the discomfort faded, replaced by a soothing warmth that spread through his muscles. The tension in his shoulders began to melt away. He let out a slow breath and leaned back, eyes closed, his body finally beginning to relax.
He didn't fall asleep. But for the first time that day, he allowed himself to rest.
After soaking for nearly half an hour, Santoryu felt the effects of the herbal bath begin to fade. The water had cooled, and the soothing sensation that once eased his aching muscles had dulled. It was time.
He stepped out of the tub, dried off, and changed into fresh clothes. As he left the bathroom, he noticed his mother in the kitchen, quietly preparing dinner. With nothing else pressing to do, he decided to return to his room and sit in meditation.
It wasn't just to pass the time. Meditation would help with his chakra training—and just as importantly, it would calm his mind. After the intensity of training, the discipline of stillness was a welcome balance.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, closed his eyes, and focused on his breath.
About half an hour later, his mother's voice called out to him from the kitchen.
"Dinner's ready!"
He rose, quietly made his way to the table, and joined his parents. The meal was simple, comforting, and well-earned. He ate without rushing, grateful for the food and the moment of peace.
Afterward, he returned to his room and lay down for the night. Sleep came quickly. His body was exhausted, and within minutes, he drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber.
The next morning, just as the first light broke through the window, the system's voice echoed in his mind:
"Wake up, Host. It's time to get ready and begin your morning run."
Santoryu woke in a daze, eyes barely open.
"What... System, are you my alarm clock now?" he muttered groggily.
He stumbled over to the window, pulled open the curtain, and squinted into the darkness. The sky was still pitch black. He turned to check the clock.
4:00 AM.
"Damn it, System. You're seriously waking me up this early?" he grumbled, clearly annoyed.
The system replied, voice cold and unwavering:
"If you want to become stronger—if you want to stand at the top of this world—then this is the bare minimum of effort required."
Santoryu sighed, then slapped both cheeks with his hands to wake himself up.
"You're right," he said. "If I want real power, I have to work harder than everyone else. No shortcuts."
With that, he stepped out of his room and went to freshen up. Moments later, he stepped outside into the pre-dawn chill. The air was still, the village silent.
He began running, circling the area around his house. He wasn't about to run the entire village—not yet—but the road outside formed a loop, perfect for training.
He kept a steady pace, occasionally pausing to catch his breath before pushing forward again. This rhythm of running and resting continued for nearly an hour and a half. By the time the sun crested the horizon and bathed the village in soft morning light, sweat clung to his body, and his legs burned—but he didn't stop.
This was just the beginning.
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