The next phase of Leo’s training began before the sun had even risen. Valeria’s voice cut through the morning haze, commanding and unyielding.

“Get up, Leo. Today, we see what you’re truly made of.”

Leo groaned as he pushed himself off the thin mat in his tent. His body ached from the previous day’s exertions, but he knew better than to complain. By the time he emerged, the camp was still shrouded in shadows, and a biting chill hung in the air. Valeria was waiting, her silver hair catching the faint light of the fading stars.

“You’ve shown promise,” she began as she handed him a heavier wooden sword, its grip rougher than the previous ones. “But promise isn’t enough. A Knight must endure more than any other. Pain, exhaustion, fear—they must become tools, not enemies.”

She gestured toward a new training area, one Leo hadn’t seen before. It was a grueling course, littered with obstacles: walls to scale, ropes to climb, narrow beams suspended over muddy pits, and targets placed at irregular intervals.

“This is your crucible,” Valeria said, her eyes fixed on him. “Complete it, and you’ll take your first true step toward becoming a Knight.”

The obstacle course began with a wall that stretched nearly twice Leo’s height. It loomed before him, its surface rough and uneven. His fingers gripped the coarse wood, splinters biting into his skin as he climbed. Halfway up, his arms trembled, and he slipped, landing hard on the ground.

“Again,” Valeria called from behind him, her tone offering neither comfort nor reprieve.

Gritting his teeth, Leo rose and attacked the wall once more. This time, he found footholds, his movements deliberate and determined. When he reached the top, his arms screamed in protest, but he pulled himself over and dropped to the other side. The impact jarred his legs, but he pushed forward.

The next section tested his balance. A narrow beam stretched over a pit of thick, cold mud. Leo’s heart pounded as he stepped onto it, arms extended for stability. The beam swayed under his weight, and for a moment, he teetered on the edge. A misstep sent him plunging into the mud below, the cold seeping into his bones.

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Valeria’s voice cut through the muck. “A Knight doesn’t fear failure. Rise and try again.”

Covered in mud, Leo climbed out and faced the beam once more. His second attempt was steadier. He focused on each step, ignoring the ache in his legs and the sting of the cold mud. This time, he made it across.

By the time he reached the final obstacle, his body was drenched in sweat, and his lungs burned. The targets were scattered across the field, each one representing an enemy. Valeria handed him a bow.

“A Knight’s skill isn’t limited to the sword,” she said. “Hit your mark.”

Leo’s hands trembled as he notched an arrow. His first shot missed entirely, the arrow skimming past the target and burying itself in the dirt. Valeria’s gaze was unrelenting.

“Breathe. Steady your aim. Focus on the center.”

He drew another arrow, exhaling slowly as he released. This time, the arrow struck the target—not dead center, but close enough to earn a curt nod from Valeria.

After a brief respite, Valeria led Leo to the edge of a river that wound its way through the camp. The current was swift, and the water’s surface shimmered under the mid-morning sun.

“Cross it,” she said simply.

Leo stared at the river, doubt flickering in his mind. The rocks were slick with moss, and the current threatened to sweep away anything that ventured into its path. But Valeria’s expression left no room for argument.

He waded into the icy water, the cold biting into his skin. Each step was a battle against the current, which pushed and pulled with relentless force. Halfway across, he lost his footing and was swept under. Panic surged as the water closed over his head, but he fought to the surface, gasping for air.

On the shore, Valeria’s voice rang out. “Use your strength, not just your will. The river doesn’t care for bravery; it respects skill.”

Leo tried again, this time using the rocks and branches as footholds and handholds. His progress was slow, but he reached the far bank, collapsing onto the ground as the cold seeped into his bones.

As the day waned, Valeria revealed the final test: a sparring session in near darkness. The campfire provided little light, casting long shadows that danced across the training ground. Valeria handed him a dulled steel blade, its weight more daunting than the wooden swords he’d been using.

“A Knight must adapt to any situation,” she said. “The battlefield is unpredictable. Learn to fight when your senses are compromised.”

Leo’s opponent was Garrick, whose sheer size and experience made the match feel hopeless. The first clash of their blades sent shockwaves up Leo’s arms. Garrick’s strikes were heavy and precise, forcing Leo to retreat.

“Don’t just defend,” Valeria called from the sidelines. “Look for openings.”

Leo tried to heed her advice, watching Garrick’s movements closely. He noticed a slight hesitation in Garrick’s follow-through after a powerful swing. Summoning his courage, Leo stepped into the attack, deflecting the blade and striking at Garrick’s exposed side.

The blow landed, and Garrick grunted, stepping back. Though it was a minor victory, it filled Leo with a surge of confidence. The sparring continued until he could no longer lift his blade, and Valeria called it off.

That night, Leo sat alone by the river, staring at the stars reflected in its surface. His body ached, and his hands were raw and blistered. Yet, for all the pain and exhaustion, he felt a growing sense of accomplishment.

Valeria’s voice echoed in his mind: *A Knight must endure more than any other.*

He clenched his fists, the rough texture of his calluses grounding him. He wasn’t just training his body; he was forging his spirit, tempering it like steel. The road ahead was still fraught with challenges, but he would face them, one step at a time.

For Eldoria.

For his family.

For the dream that burned brighter within him each day.