The next days were a very special kind of hell for Arthur. He was pushed to his limits in every regard possible.

Each evening, he felt every muscle in his body ache, while his head was hurting from the mental exercises he was put through.

The only reason, he was still going, was the medicinel bath. But that was it's own kind of torture.

It was during a medicinel bath in the fifth day of the training, that he started to feel the energy, trickling in through his skin, and southing his aches and bruises.

He lost the feeling again, but once he knew, what he was searching for, it wasn't to hard to find it again.

That evening, during meditation, he was told by Merlin, to focus on the energy, which streams into his lungs with breathing in, and streams out, when he breathes out.

It worked surprisingly fast. At the end of the meditation session, he could feel the energy consistently.

It was an amazing feeling, to know, that you took a step in the direction of magic.

But sensing your magic while meditating is one thing. Sensing it while running as fast as you can through an obstacle course? Well that's a different story all together. And that's precisely what he was supposed to do the next days.

The training had just become a lot more difficult as well.

In that spirit, the next days flew by, and before he knew it, the first month had passed.

Since Merlin didn't stop teaching him, he was pretty sure he was accepted as a student...

Not that he had much time to ponder. The day started with training, was structured by the meals and ended with a medicenal bath and meditation.

It was all worth it. He could sense himself getting stronger. What had tired him out in the beginning, now he did easily. Running ten kilometers? Easy. So he was running twenty with a 10 kilo bag, while trying to support his body by moving the magic to his leg muscles and circulation of the magic that comes in with the breath.

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Doing 30 pushups? Easy. But doing fifty with his trusted backpack? Well, it started to get easy...

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Merlin smiled. He was quite content with the Arthurs determination and rate of improvement. Sure, the strength Arthur displayed was not really worth mentioning, but it was a basis to build upon.

He was also glad to notice, that training amd advancing were possible with out the system. Not that he really doubted it. He had seen far to many creatures intrud into his world from the chaos realms for that.

But since the foundation was built, the fan part could start now. He smiled slightly, when suddenly a thought crashed his amusement. Does gaining resistances against poison, pain, mental attacks etc. is the same, if you don't get titels out of it? Well, he supposed he should be more careful.

It was also time to start teaching some martial arts and begin with the claiming.

For a while, Merlin just let his thoughts drift...

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The next Morning, when Arthur came outside, he found Merlin waiting for him.

'Good Morning and how are you feeling?' Merlin asked. Arthur smiled. This Morning Merlin looked like he could be a gentle old grandfather from earth. That thought brought a sharp sting with it. Home. His Family. Would he ever be able to tell his Grandpa about his adventures? How was his mom and little sister doing?

He pushed the thoughts away, and looked at Merlin again.

'I'm doing great. Thanks. Is today something special?'

Merlin stroked his beard and said casually: 'Yes indeed. Yes, indeed. I have decided, that you are ready to start your actual training. Until now, we have mostly focused on your foundation. But if you want to back out, or continue your foundation building, that is also fine. What do you choose?'

Arthur gave it some thought before he replied. 'I'd like to start the training. I don't think, that the foundation can ever be solid enough, but I trust, that you now what you're doing. '

Merlin nodded sagely. 'Than let's begin.'

He threw a wodden sword at Arthur and called: 'Attack'

By now, Arthur was already so conditioned to follow Merlins commands, that he didn't even hesitate. Befor he now what he was doing, he lunched at Merlin, his sword extended, trying to stab the center of mass.

He found himself on his back, staring into the blue sky, a wodden sword pointet at his throat.

'God. Try again.'

Later, at lunch, Arthur was convinced. The grandfatherly old man was in truth a devil. And he had landed in his domain of hell.

What kind of training is it? If you don't even touch your opponent, but get mercilessly beaten?