Finally, the next day had arrived, and the sun beamed onto Miles' face. It was 7 a.m., which was quite early considering the class started at 9. But Raven was not in his bed. "Raven!" he shouted. Could he have run away? With the estate’s security, that seemed impossible. Miles quickly jumped out of bed and got dressed in his school uniform. He rushed downstairs, barely letting the servants greet him. "Sir..." one began, but he fixed his collar and hurried on. Raven wasn’t at the door either. Had his worst fear come true? He started running around the estate and finally stumbled upon a sight he didn’t want to see.

Raven’s clothes, save for his undergarments, were torn, and his body was covered in bruises and cuts. Yet, despite his condition, he was still hacking away at the training dummies with a sword in hand. A mountain of destroyed dummies had piled up in a corner where the estate walls met, and the grass in that specific spot was noticeably worn down. As Miles stood in stunned disbelief, he managed to speak.

"What’s going on here?"

Without responding, Raven continued swinging his sword. His muscle fibers were torn, and his bones had several fractures. What kind of training had led to this? Why did he need so much power? Miles approached and gave Raven a slap—not too hard, but enough to finally make Raven collapse. The sword flew out of Raven’s hand, and Miles caught it in mid-air before tossing it aside. He slung Raven over his shoulder and began walking toward the estate’s infirmary. Raven was mumbling incoherently. Miles assumed he was having a nightmare or talking in his sleep, but when he glanced over, he saw Raven’s eyes wide open, whispering something through his battered face.

"Almost there, we're heading to the infirmary."

Raven, using what little energy he had left, began weakly punching Miles on the back. Was he angry about being taken to the infirmary, or was he upset that his training had been interrupted? Either way, he wasn’t getting his way. Miles kept walking until they reached the infirmary. He laid Raven down, and the estate’s chief physician, Oswald, began treating him. The doctor paused several times as he examined Raven.

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"This boy…" He couldn’t finish his sentence. "Did he train all night?"

Miles had already figured that out, so he wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t seen Raven go to bed around 10 p.m., so he had easily deduced the answer.

"Yes, doctor. I don’t recall him going to sleep."

The doctor continued, "The estate’s curfew is at 10 p.m., and it’s now 7 a.m. That means he should have sustained 9 hours of damage, but his body shows signs of at least 15 hours of injury."

Considering the intensity of Raven’s training, Miles thought this made sense. Six hours at that level of intensity wasn’t even that much. Miles began to speak.

"But he was training rea—"

The doctor interrupted, "I’ve already taken that into account."

Miles was confused and asked, "Then what does that mean? Where does the extra six hours come from?"

The doctor continued examining Raven’s body while explaining, "If he had used some kind of time magic to train, this would explain the reaction. However, I know for a fact this boy has no idea what magic even is, so we can rule that out."

Miles was shocked once again. If time magic wasn’t involved, where had the time gone? Something didn’t add up. The doctor added:

"We’ll have to set this aside for now. I need to focus on treating the boy," he said, beginning the treatment. Miles left the room. His concern had shifted from Raven’s injuries to the mysterious six-hour gap. How had Raven squeezed 15 hours of training into a 9-hour window?

Miles waited outside the infirmary for three hours until the door finally opened. The doctor took a deep breath and began speaking:

"Fortunately, there’s no permanent damage, but it will take some time for his muscles to heal before he can walk again. He also has two fractured ribs and a sprained elbow joint. Normally, these kinds of injuries would require at least two weeks of rest, but he might be up in just a week."

As the doctor was talking, Miles noticed something behind him. The door was slowly creaking open, and Raven quietly walked out. Miles couldn’t help but laugh, even though the doctor was still speaking. The doctor, confused by what could be funny, turned around and jumped in shock. There stood Raven, with his usual gaunt eyes and sunken features, giving that terrifying, hollow look. Without a word, the doctor retreated into his office, leaving the two of them alone. After a brief silence, Miles broke it:

"How..."