Morning came without mercy.
There was no gentle sunrise, no moment of peace. The light spilled over the shattered land like an accusation, revealing every scar they had carved into the world the day before. Cratered plains. Collapsed ridges. Mountains reduced to fields of broken stone.
And four hunters lying on the ground, barely moving.
Ash was the first to open his eyes. The moment he tried to sit up, pain ripped through his back and legs like fire crawling under his skin. Every muscle screamed in protest, tendons tight and swollen from overuse.
"Tch…" He exhaled sharply, biting down on the pain.
Kael groaned somewhere to his left. "If this is what enlightenment feels like… I want a refund."
Riven didn't move at all at first. Only when a strong wind passed did his fingers twitch. "I can still feel my legs," he muttered. "Unfortunately."
Juno rolled onto his side and immediately froze, breath hitching. "Okay… that's new."
Standing apart from them, completely unbothered, Lunaria watched the sunrise. His posture was relaxed, jacket hanging loosely from his shoulders, silver hair catching the morning light. He looked like he had gone for a walk—not like someone who had shattered half a region with his speed.
"You're awake," Lunaria said calmly.
Ash glared at him from the ground. "Barely."
Lunaria turned to face them. "Good. Then we continue."
Kael pushed himself up on one elbow, disbelief written across his face. "You're joking."
Lunaria shook his head. "Your backs are sore. Your legs are damaged. Your mana circulation is unstable."
He paused.
"That's exactly why you run today."
Silence followed.
Juno laughed weakly. "We don't really have a choice, do we?"
"No," Lunaria replied honestly.
Ash forced himself to stand. His legs trembled violently, threatening to fold beneath him. He took one step—then another—each movement sending sharp pain through his body.
But he stayed upright.
Kael followed, swearing under his breath as he straightened. Riven rose next, expression unreadable, jaw clenched tight. Juno was last, slow and deliberate, carefully testing each step like the ground might bite back.
Lunaria studied them.
"Today isn't about speed," he said. "It's about movement under pain. Control when your body is screaming to stop."
Ash nodded grimly. "So… survival training."
"Exactly."
Lunaria stepped forward, placing himself ahead of them once more.
"You already know the rules," he said. "No resting. No stopping. Meet me—or fall behind."
He raised a hand.
This time, he didn't count.
He dropped it.
The world lurched.
Lunaria accelerated smoothly, no explosion, no thunder—just gone.
Ash chased immediately, pain flaring so hard his vision went white for a split second. His legs felt like they were tearing themselves apart, but he forced his stride to remain even, measured.
Control, he reminded himself.
Kael pushed beside him, teeth bared. His speed was lower than yesterday, but tighter—every movement efficient, no wasted force. He let momentum do the work his muscles couldn't.
Riven lagged half a step behind, breathing heavy, but his eyes were sharp. He didn't try to match their pace immediately. Instead, he built up slowly, letting his damaged body warm itself through motion.
Juno struggled most.
Every step sent jolts of pain through his spine. His legs shook, threatening collapse. But he adapted—shorter strides, lighter landings, using the uneven terrain to redirect force instead of absorbing it.
They ran.
Across broken plains.
Through valleys filled with stone fragments the size of buildings.
Over shattered ridges where one wrong step meant death.
Lunaria remained ahead—always visible today, always just out of reach.
Hours passed.
Pain dulled into something distant.
Ash felt it first—the shift. His muscles stopped screaming and started listening. His mana adjusted automatically, compensating for damage, reinforcing weakened fibers as he moved.
Kael laughed suddenly. "It hurts less."
Riven nodded. "We're adapting."
Juno grinned despite the sweat pouring down his face. "Or we're going numb."
By midday, their pace increased.
By afternoon, the pain became background noise.
When Lunaria finally slowed near a fractured canyon, they reached him without collapsing.
He turned, eyes bright.
"Good," he said simply. "Your bodies are learning."
Ash wiped sweat from his brow, breathing hard but steady. "You're not letting us stop tomorrow either, are you?"
Lunaria smiled faintly.
"No."
The wind swept across the broken land, carrying dust and sunlight alike.
And though their bodies ached, something inside them had grown stronger—quietly, relentlessly—refusing to break.