I did say I wanted to train like Saitama.
I started jogging laps around the training yard at a steady pace.
Here we go i thought I brought my orbs of mana together and pushed to activate the skill as soon as I did I fell to the ground as I was mid step and immediately lost my footing.
'This is gonna he horrible I can feel it.' I stood up as quickly as I could while under the affect of my skill and continued running after 5 seconds the skill ran out i thought I would have 15 seconds before I had to activate again so I continued running.
"What are you doing? Activate your skill"
"It has a cool down"
That only applies when you call out the name of your skill to make it more powerful. She said
What? First perception being different than what I thought and now this i need to experiment with my mana some more.
The more I learn about this world the more it seems like the system is just there as a sort if tutorial but I might be able to learn new skills without waiting for level 25.
Is that what happened with Voidcut when I sent it in all directions was that an entirely different skill? It didnt feel like it.
I repeat the process and just like she said the skill was cast without a problem if you dont count me stumbling and almost falling to the ground
But atleast I didnt fall
Im already out of breath and I've been running for less than a minute what the fuck.
***
Hours later.
The moon was high, casting long, pale shadows across the training yard. I wasn't running anymore. I was flat on my back, lungs heaving, every muscle screaming.
My calves are on fucking fire. People who do this shit for fun are goddamn lunatics.
I groaned.
Talia stood nearby, arms folded, completely untouched by time or fatigue. Just watching.
"Do you not have mana potions? Or stamina potions? Something to help with this?" I asked between breaths.
She tilted her head. "Potions?" she echoed, stepping closer and kneeling beside me.
"Yeah. Health, mana, stamina—just drink one and keep going. Kind of figured you'd have a bunch lying around."
She frowned slightly. "Those exist… but not the way you're imagining. Potions aren't something you mass-produce and stockpile. They're made by Life-wielders—people whose mana can heal flesh and blood. They infuse that mana into crystals or liquids. It's not easy. And people with the Life affinity are rare. Even a single vial takes hours to make and days to stabilize. Every drop is precious."
She studied my face for a moment.
"But the way you talk about them… It's like they're common in your world. Like you've used them before. Can the people of your world craft potions without mana?"
She leaned in a little, a strange hope flickering in her eyes.
"If you know that method… you could save a lot of lives."
I hesitated, already knowing this would go badly. I sat up slowly.
"No. We don't actually have potions where I'm from."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Confusion replacing hope.
"Then how do you even know what they are?"
"Because…" I sighed, "in my world, they're fiction. From games. Stories. Part of make-believe."
She didn't say anything, just stared. Waiting.
"You said something the first day," she added quietly. "That you were 'isekai'd.' That this was like 'anime.' You mentioned fighting demon kings. I didn't question it before. But now I want to know what you meant."
I gave a short, tired laugh.
"Isekai is a genre of fiction. It means 'another world.' In my world, there are stories about people getting summoned into places like this one. They get powers, special weapons, quests. They fight demon kings. Save kingdoms."
I paused.
"And yeah, potions are in those stories too. You can drink one to heal a wound, restore mana, whatever. They're cheap, disposable. Just game items."
Her expression shifted again. The hope faded into something quieter.
Disappointment.
"So… there's no method? No hidden knowledge? It's just… pretend?"
I nodded. "Just pretend."
She was quiet for a long time. Then she sat beside me.
"You dream of coming to worlds like mine," she said softly. "With weapons, magic, and a cause. You dream of danger."
She looked up at the sky, voice distant.
"We dream of your world too. But the ones we dream about are peaceful. Quiet. Boring. Worlds where our children don't train to kill before they're tall enough to hold a sword."
She looked at me again, her gaze sharp but not unkind.
"You're throwing away the world we dream of."
She stood up, brushing herself off.
"I think that's why you were given your title, and why the people here will hate you."
She started walking away, speaking over her shoulder.
"I won't be here tomorrow. Don't skip out on your training."
I just sat there, thinking.
She feels sorry for me.
I don't think pity was one of the conditions to overcome the effects of my title.
I can see why some people would want the kind of life I used to have. But I've only ever lived that life. Boring. Repetitive. Peaceful. They've only known the opposite.
They're not wrong for thinking I'm crazy. And they're probably right.
But oh well.
More importantly—I need a library. I don't know enough about this world. I don't even remember the name of the kingdom we're in.
I stood slowly, legs shaking.
My calves didn't hurt yet—but tomorrow? Tomorrow would be hell.
And I was starving.
I walked to the dining hall and spotted my friends at the same table as before.