Pain.
That was the only thing Izuku knew now.
Every morning, before the sun even peeked over the horizon, he was dragged out of bed. His muscles, still sore from the previous day, screamed in agony, but there was no mercy, no moment of reprieve.
Sir Garrick was relentless.
"If your training was better than mine, then prove it."
And Izuku did.
He pushed through every lap, every spar, every brutal conditioning exercise. He refused to slow down, refused to show weakness. The knights watched in silent awe as the frail, cursed boy forced himself beyond his limits.
[System Prompt]Pain Resistance +0.2% (7.25%)Endurance +0.1
Izuku gritted his teeth.
It was working.
Slowly.
Agonizingly slowly.
He had been the strongest warrior in Murim, a man who once shook mountains with his sword. Now, he was nothing—forced to celebrate even the smallest of improvements.
It was infuriating.
It was humiliating.
But Izuku didn't let his emotions cloud his focus.
He just trained harder.
The Weight of Weakness
A month passed.
Izuku's body had started adapting to Sir Garrick's training. His stamina had improved, his reaction time sharpened, and his pain tolerance grew bit by bit.
But it still wasn't enough.
At night, lying on his stiff mattress, staring at the wooden ceiling of his quarters, his mind raged.
"This isn't enough."
The academy was only a year away.
Izuku knew how the world worked. The noble children attending the academy weren't training like he was.
They were already powerful.
They had been born into wealth, resources, and guidance.
Meanwhile, he was starting from zero. No, below zero. The Heaven's Will curse still shackled his growth.
Even after all this training, his stats were still too low.
"At this rate…"
He clenched his fists.
He needed more.
He needed something harsher.
A Midnight Meeting
One night, unable to sleep, Izuku left his quarters.
The mansion was eerily quiet.
A cold wind blew through the courtyard, making the torches flicker. He walked slowly, deep in thought, replaying his training over and over in his mind, searching for a way to push further.
Then—
A voice.
"You're not satisfied, are you?"
Izuku's muscles tensed.
He turned toward the voice, his senses sharpening.
A figure stepped out from the shadows, his golden eyes glowing in the dim light.
Lord Varyn.
His presence was imposing, like a predator who had found something interesting to toy with.
"Your growth is too slow. You know that."
Izuku said nothing.
Varyn stepped closer, his sharp gaze studying Izuku like a hawk observing prey.
"You don't have time for normal training," Varyn said, his voice calm yet firm. "You need something... harsher."
Izuku's fingers curled into fists.
"What are you suggesting?"
Varyn smirked.
"The underground training chambers. Where knights train in true combat."
Izuku's breath hitched.
The underground chambers.
He had heard of them before. A brutal place.
A place where knights pushed past their limits, where training wasn't just about form and drills.
It was about survival.
Men left those chambers either stronger… or broken.
Varyn turned away, walking toward the darkened hallways of the mansion.
"You want to grow stronger, don't you?"
Izuku hesitated.
He knew this was dangerous.
He was already barely keeping up with Garrick's training. If he pushed too far, he could permanently injure himself.
But—
If he didn't…
He would never catch up.
Izuku exhaled sharply.
Then, with steady steps, he followed Varyn into the darkness.
To Be Continued in Chapter 24 – The Abyss of Training