Akira ran.
His feet pounded violently against the training ground floor, breath tearing from his lungs in ragged gasps, but he didn't dare slow down.
Because he could still feel it.
That pressure.
That suffocating presence behind him.
When he looked back Silas wasn't chasing him.
He was walking.
Each step the knight took was slow. Calm. Unhurried.
And yet, with every second that passed, Akira's fear only grew heavier. It clung to his spine like ice, crawling up his back and tightening around his heart.
His legs burned.
His chest felt like it was on fire.
Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop—
Akira stumbled.
No matter how far he ran when looked back Silas was there.
Footsteps.
Still slow.
But catching up
"Good," Silas's voice echoed calmly through the field. "You're still running."
I can't… I can't keep this up…
Desperation clawed at Akira's chest.
Then he saw it.
The trees at the far edge of the training grounds.
Without thinking, Akira veered sharply to the side and sprinted toward them. The moment he passed between the thick trunks, the pressure faded just enough for him to slam his back against one of the trees and slide down onto the roots.
His chest heaved violently.
Air burned through his lungs.
For a few precious seconds, he just breathed.
Just one moment… just one second—
A shadow fell over him.
Before Akira could even look up—
SWOOSH.
The tree above him split clean down the middle.
Wood screamed as the massive trunk slid apart and crashed to both sides with a thunderous boom. Dust, bark, and leaves exploded into the air.
Akira froze.
His breath died in his throat.
Silas stood before him, sword lowered at his side as if he had done nothing more than cut grass.
"Who," Silas said calmly, "said you could rest?"
The killing intent returned—heavier than before.
Akira's body reacted before his mind did.
He ran.
He burst from the trees in a panic, legs screaming in agony as terror shoved him forward.
Behind him, footsteps resumed.
"Run," Silas commanded. "It would be your body that will be cut in half next time if you stop again."
After what felt like hours, Akira's legs finally gave out.
His foot caught on the uneven ground and his body pitched forward violently. He hit the dirt hard, the breath exploding from his lungs as pain shot through his limbs. His body refused to move. Muscles locked. Vision blurred. Every nerve screamed.
He tried to push himself up.
His arms shook.
They failed.
Akira lay there, gasping, face pressed into the dirt as his chest struggled to rise and fall.
Behind him—
Footsteps stopped.
Silas stood over him.
The presence above him was suffocating.
Akira felt it even without looking.
"Stand," Silas said.
Akira's fingers dug into the soil. His arms trembled violently as he forced himself up inch by inch.
He made it to his knees—
And collapsed again.
His body slammed into the ground, completely spent.
"I… can't…" Akira rasped.
Silas crouched slightly, face finally close enough for Akira to see his eyes.
Cold.
Unmoved.
"Your body gave out," Silas said calmly. "Your mind didn't."
Then—
Silas turned away.
"Get up in ten seconds," he said.
Akira's eyes widened in horror.
"T-Ten?!"
Silas kept walking.
"Ten."
Akira clenched his teeth.
Nine.
Every muscle screamed.
Eight.
He forced one hand beneath him.
Seven.
His arms buckled.
Six.
His vision blurred.
Five.
His scarred forearms burned.
Four.
He pushed again.
Three.
His knees shook violently but held.
Two.
He willed his legs to move.
One.
Akira stood.
Barely.
His body trembled violently, sweat pouring down his face as he swayed in place.
Silas turned back.
Smiling but at that moment he seemed like the devil himself.
"Good," he said. "Now run."
Hours later, the training ground was silent.
Akira lay crumpled in the dirt at Silas's feet, his body twisted unnaturally, chest rising in weak, shallow motions. His face was smeared with dried and fresh blood alike, streaked across his cheeks and dripping from his chin into the soil beneath him.
His legs jerked weakly from time to time—small, involuntary spasms that showed just how far past his limit he had been pushed.
And his eyes had no pupils.
Silas stood over him, sword resting at his side unshaken.
Unmoved.
"Bring the healing potion."
Sebastian poured the potion on Akira's body.
Color slowly crept back into his face. The terrifying white in his eyes flickered, pupils barely beginning to return as a weak breath dragged into his lungs.
Silas finally turned away.
"Good," he said. "If he can still return from this… then tomorrow, we continue."