The old master with white hair hurled Dante into the space between the two pools. His body shot forward until he reached the narrow strip that lay in the center.
His body, slightly unsteady, threatened to tilt to one side, yet he managed to adjust his stance with relative ease.
Standing between the two pools, a faint sense of horror crept into him. His body was trapped in a clear duality: one side began to heat up and sweat uncontrollably; his muscles weakened as the water within them vaporized.
Meanwhile, the other half of his body showed signs of freezing. His limbs grew as hard as concrete, the result of water crystallizing inside his muscles.
His skin seemed divided—one side completely red, flushed with a sickly heat; the other pale as that of a vampire—white, cold, and lifeless.
His body entered a state of survival. His legs gave out, causing him to collapse onto the central edge that separated the pools.
His improved endurance was evident. Looking deeper within, he could see his cells struggling—half trying to cool, half trying to heat.
His body seemed on the verge of exploding. Inside him, two forces collided—one as solid as the coldest mountain peak, the other as gaseous as the largest storm cloud the world would never witness—humid and surrounded by sounds like thunder, though they were nothing more than the desperate bombardment of blood from his heart.
His mind was the only part of him still untouched. Thus, ignoring his own torment, Dante lifted his gaze toward Tyler, awaiting an answer.
The old man stared back at him with a bold grin. He seemed ready to leave but chose to speak before disappearing.
> "This is a true training of endurance. The hot side will vaporize the water in your body, making you weak and vulnerable. In time, it will cause your blood to boil and bubble.
The cold side will freeze everything—liquids, muscles, bones, blood, organs—turning your body into an impenetrable rock.
But your mind will remain sane. Good luck, my disciple. This marks the beginning of your painful journey as a warrior."
With that, the old man vanished into a cloud of dust.
"Tsk… damn old man! How can this be training? I'm going to die!" Dante growled, irritation filling his voice.
He had merely stepped onto that edge—and now, he was trapped.
The pain kept intensifying. After opening his meridians, his resistance had increased, yet now he could feel every single cell with terrifying clarity—and that awareness brought even greater agony.
This training wasn't simply about endurance. Dante could clearly feel his body in constant conflict, a struggle that was hard even to describe.
The duality of fire and ice invaded him, trying to tear him apart from within. Yet it was also clear that the repulsion between both forces was precisely what kept him alive.
Even so, his mind remained completely sane—which to Dante was deeply unsettling. Normally, his body would have shut down from the pain, as a form of protection. But that kind of reasoning belonged to his old world.
Here, he couldn't even imagine what was possible.
Boom. Boom. Boom.