Two hours! Another run. It sounded simple enough—except this time, Atlas had to climb up and down hills over rough, uneven terrain. To make it even harder, he had to carry his spear the entire time. No matter what, he couldn’t let go of it.
Taking a slow, deep breath, he steadied himself, feeling the weight in his chest, and then grinned. “Alright!” he muttered, clenching his teeth as he began his run, with Kurogasa following close behind.
How should he carry the spear? Across his shoulder? That seemed manageable at first. He jumped and maneuvered over rocks, his grip firm. But the uphill stretches were brutal, making everything twice as difficult. He felt the strain quickly—but he pressed on, conquering the first steep incline.
Now, it was time for the descent. Let’s go!
The two hours felt like four—or even five—but finally, the time passed, and Atlas completed the training. Exhausted, he trudged back to camp and collapsed onto the nearest chair, utterly spent.
Two cooks approached, offering him water and a meal, but he shook his head, deciding to wait for the others to join him. He leaned back, catching his breath. The training wasn’t over yet—he still had another four-hour session ahead, after a one-hour break.
A few minutes later, he heard the faint sounds of others returning, but he paid no mind. Instead, he focused on restoring his stamina, closing his eyes to rest. Until… What was this?
An unexpected sensation washed over him, not an alarm of danger, but a sudden warmth and comfort that seemed to seep into him. It brushed against his cheek, refreshing him in an instant and stirring him awake.
He opened his eyes and felt a soft hand on his cheek. Turning to his left, he saw Lyrassa sitting beside him, smiling warmly.
“My Lord… you’ve been training so hard.”
Atlas nodded and closed his eyes again, allowing himself to sink into the calming effect of her touch. The floral scent from the flowers woven into her hair filled the air, melting away his fatigue.
But… was this allowed? Kurogasa had explicitly told him not to take any healing potions during training.
Opening his eyes, Atlas glanced over to where Kurogasa stood. The Ninja Rat simply gave him a respectful bow, signaling his approval.
So, this is okay.
After a moment, Atlas opened his eyes.
“My Lord… your feet…” Lyrassa murmured.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “I can endure it.”
She nodded quietly, then added, “But… I sense your mind is troubled.”
Troubled? he thought. By what?
“If you want to talk… I’m here,” she offered gently.
Atlas frowned slightly, trying to understand what she meant.
A troubling thought?
He sifted through his mind, trying to find the source.
Then, suddenly, an image of Kurogasa flashed in his mind. He straightened instinctively, realizing what had been lingering at the edge of his thoughts.
"Lyrassa..."
“Yes, my Lord?” she replied softly.
“Tell me… do you think a Beastkind Rat can smile?”
“Huh?” Lyrassa looked momentarily confused, then giggled. “My Lord… anyone can express themselves. With a smile, laughter, tears, or anger.”
Atlas sighed. “It’s just… every time I look at Kurogasa, I feel like he’s smiling, and it’s been nagging at me.”
Lyrassa nodded thoughtfully. “Master Kurogasa does often smile after speaking with you. He’s very friendly and humble. I’d say he answers almost every question warmly, and usually with a smile.”
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“So… it’s not just in my head, then.”
Still, the image of Kurogasa’s persistent smile lingered, an odd detail that somehow kept nudging at the back of his mind.
The closeness between Atlas and Lyrassa didn’t go unnoticed. A few nearby troops even paused mid-meal, staring openly.
“Hey, eat properly,” one of their friends nudged them.
“I’m just touched,” the other replied, eyes glistening. “Our Lord is so humble and approachable with everyone.”
“True,” another nodded. “It’s rare to see a Lord that friendly. He even lets them call him by name.”
“Where is my food? I need my food!” came a sudden shout from the other side of the camp, startling Atlas.
He turned toward the makeshift kitchen, where two or three people had gathered, looking frustrated.
“What’s going on?” Atlas asked as he approached, causing them to back up and bow in respect.
“Is there something I can help with?”
“My Lord, we haven’t gotten our food yet,” one of them explained.
The cooks quickly apologized, looking nervous. “My Lord, forgive us. We did prepare extra portions.”
Atlas raised an eyebrow. “How many did you make?”
“Fifty portions, my Lord,” one of the cooks replied.
“Fifty portions? And we only have… what, 22… and 2, and 5… 29 people here?” Atlas murmured, trying to figure out the number.
“My Lord, forgive us, but…” the cook trailed off, glancing to the side. Atlas followed their gaze and saw Karian sitting comfortably, with a pile of meal boxes stacked next to him.
Atlas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Karian..."
“My Lord, forgive us,” one of the cooks said apologetically. “We thought ten portions would be enough for Mr. Karian.”
“It’s alright,” Atlas replied calmly. “Give my portion and those for Lyrassa and Kurogasa to the others.”
“But, My Lord—” the cook began, looking concerned.
“My Lord, no, we won’t take your portions,” one of the troops said, shaking his head. “We’re fine without eating.”
Atlas pulled out a bag from his Inventory. “Then I’ll have these. A bag full of carrots. Just wash them, and I’ll make do.”
The cook protested, “My Lord, you’ve trained hard today. You need more than just carrots! We’ll prepare something for you right away.”
At that moment, the atmosphere grew tense as a figure approached. The troops fell silent, their posture rigid.
Atlas turned and saw Morganna walking toward them. Without a word, she extended three meal boxes to the troops, her gaze cold.
“Take these and go far from here,” she commanded in a tone so firm it left no room for argument.
The three troops, visibly intimidated, accepted the boxes with trembling hands and quickly bowed before hurrying away.
Morganna turned without another word and walked away.
Atlas had arranged for extra portions for both Karian and Morganna earlier, so it seemed she had given up her own meal for the troops.
Atlas sighed, realizing that even small issues like this required his attention.
This is a reminder that I need to understand my subordinates better. They’re living beings, not tools.
After lunch, he moved on to the next training regimen.
2 Hours: Bodyweight strength training, including push-ups, lunges, and core stability exercises, all with 10kg weights strapped to his wrists and ankles.
The session was grueling, every movement pushing his endurance to the limit. By the end, he realized just how far he’d surpassed normal human limits.
He was level 44, damn it! This was far beyond anything a regular person could ever hope to handle.
Next Up - 2 Hours: Reflection and cooldown stretching, focusing specifically on grip conditioning for his spear.
[Your Strength has increased by 1 point.]
Ah, even better—it was a direct Strength point increase, not just from leveling up. Damn, he was thrilled to see that notification!
And so, the first day of hellish training on this hellish island was finally over!
The entire group gathered, ready to return to Gacha Haven. Some had injuries, some had fainted, and a few had given up halfway through. But the rule was absolute—no one was allowed to use healing potions or healing magic to recover. They’d have to bear their aches and exhaustion until the next day.
They returned to Gacha Haven, taking turns to clean up and prepare for dinner and an evening of camaraderie. Atlas had organized a cozy routine for them—complete with a mini stage, a big screen, and plenty of space for everyone to unwind.
They watched a movie together, sang karaoke, laughed, and shared stories, the exhaustion of the day slowly melting away in the warmth of companionship.
They had come here to train, to prepare for battle, but there was no rule against having fun.
After a while, Atlas stepped up onto the stage, smiling as everyone turned to him with excitement. It was time for his Gacha Pull!
He tossed 10 standard tickets into the air. The tickets spun and began glowing one by one as they took on their ranks: brown, brown, brown… purple.
“Yeay!” The crowd cheered as the first purple appeared.
Brown, brown… purple again.
“Yeay!”
Finally, the last one—purple!
The result: 7 Rank-B items and 3 Rank-A.
“Yeay!”
Not a big jackpot, but everyone cheered anyway, sharing in the thrill of the pull.