It had been years by now. The training chamber helped, but I've run into some... difficulties while trying to translate strength into conditioning.

The man grimaced as he remembered how It felt to get hit on his knee by a block of tungsten. That wasn't the proudest moment of his life, but accidents happen, and being bedridden for a week had taught him to always build a failsafe behind his training contraptions.

After adjusting to the augmented gravity chamber, his physical strength spiked, his body now even leaner, muscle fibers thicker and denser. It was a qualitative transformation, if previously he took on mass, now that mass had been compressed to the point of insanity.

This led to him neglecting his normal training, too happy to see how difficult it was to add even a pound of weight inside his spaceship, and to what height it would bring him.

He got too excited after being able to break the steel plate he oh so much struggled before with ease, and decided to skip a few steps and try his hand at the most robust material known to humankind in his previous world.

He got into his stance, feet as wide as his shoulders, left leg in front, cocked his elbow, breathed in deeply, and punched the block with a powerful rotation of his torso. The kinetic energy transferred into the metal with such force that the block just disappeared, ricocheted to the wall of the cavern, to the ceiling and to his left leg in a blink.

Blinded by pain, he found himself sprawled to the ground with a confused expression, not believing his first injury in this new world was self-inflicted.

This led to some time of forced rest, in which he started the diary he was currently writing. Still sulking at the thought of his... less than brilliant display, he got back to his draft.

Still, after adopting a more gradual approach, I've seen massive gains, and at least the accident didn't break anything. It seems like that there are similarities even in the same categories of training.

Apart from the chamber and some squat, I for sure never hit my knee as I did with my hand, but still, apart from some swelling, a big bruise and a dull ache what should have been an obliterated knee had just been a mild discomfort for some time.

I've later tested my thesis with some more...masochistic displays and I also searched some books related to the argument in the library, and what I found is that extreme conditioning applied to a singular part of your body tend to bleed out to other aspects of your physicality, in a process similar to osmosis.

That basically means that I'm hard as fuck, weight more than what my frame would suggest given the density of my bones and muscles, and going forward this will be a crucial aspect to consider while adopting a fighting style.

Lately, all the anime I've watched had me thinking about boxing more, and I realized that while the straightforwardness of the style is what I crave and like the most, there are other techniques I should adopt.

More on that will be added later after I manage to finally karate chop the fucking mithril in two parts.

With a grimace and a stretch, Roy closed his diary and got up. It was time for some more training.

He pressed walked to the cartoonish spaceship, got inside and took a deep breath. No matter how many times he watched his gym, he couldn't help but be impressed by how many wonky machines he had accumulated in his stay here.

He felt like he could just live his life as a personal trainer if it came down to it. After all this time researching, optimizing, and improving he had a better grasp of the human body than ever before, and while magical energies were for sure involved, the program he developed was as close to perfection as it could get.

Reaching the control panel, he prepared himself and selected 20 times the gravity. With a powerful grunt, every one of his joints screaming he took a step towards the weight rack on the other side of the room.

He graduated last week from 19x, but each time he added another modifier, the initial days were rough. After painfully reaching the dumbells, he reached for the lightest ones and started punching the air, trying to maintain good form all the while.

In a single year, after the gravity chamber discovery, he managed to rip apart each and one of the materials of his previous world, but he quickly discovered how different the standards of Iliria were. At least he knew that what he was doing would eventually produce results, but he took another whole year to be able to break the Quicksilver, and mithril was proving to be an even more difficult challenge to overcome.

Idle thoughts were a constant of his training, the monotony having a somewhat strange effect on how his mind worked by now. His body was moving by itself, while his brain was basically just fucking around. He assumed it was a coping mechanisms. A long time had passed since he had any kind of human contact, and at this point in time the only times he talked were just to practice new languages.

He mentally shrugged. He already had some breakdowns, but each time the conclusion was the same. Get stronger, try to stay sane, and get out of this place. It had been a while since he tought about his mental wellness, and he was happy to discover that he felt quite rested.

Maybe the routine was starting to grow on him, or maybe his mind adjusted enough to simply ignore the call of the void.

In any case, his progress was steady, he had clear steps to take and the addition of others martial arts to the mix spiced up the other parts of his day. He couldn't really complain, not when by any means he should have died years ago. Well, not really.

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Oh.

His idle mind was rocked by a cold tought.

"I'm so gonna kill that bitch."

He got it. The other part of his coping mechanism had been developing a searing hatred for the goddess that force him into his actual position. Maybe it would be just a phase, maybe after he experienced all the other aspects of the new world he found himself in the hatred would fade.

But for the moment his sanity was tethered to the tought of smashing the beautiful face of the goddess with something heavy and possibly spiky.

The sudden moment of clarity brought a smirk to the man face. Turns out, he hadn't really adjusted, nor he was coping well.

He just had one more objective besides passing the crucible.

Putting down the light weights, he took an heavy vest out of his inventory, and with a pained expression got it on.

Reaching for the bar near him, he started to pull himself up. Once at the top he forced his wrist, and with a grunt he transitioned to a muscle up. The routine kept going, mixing and maxing different exercises like a gamer would with his character and after a couple of hours the professor stumbled outside the spaceship.

His mind focused, and a groan escaped from his lips. Every fiber of his being hurt, and he could hear his bones creaking while he walked.

He sighed.

With a resigned expression, he looked into the lake, meeting the face of a well presented man, with a nicely trimmed beard and a short haircut. His letf eye was completely red, a capillar probably burst during his training session, giving a demonic appearance to the fatigued but otherwise distinct figure.

"I really hope this world has some good therapist"

----------------------------------------

A young man, with wavy vermillion hair and piercing blue eyes was slumped in a comfy leather chair.

"Am I crazy doc ?"

An older man, occupied at a table waved his hand in the air, and with mild, dispassionate tone answered.

"Fuck If i know kid, I'm a healer, not a therapist"

The younger male snorted at the doctor. Then, schooling back his expression to a more serious one, spoke again, his voice hushed.

"I mean, I try my best, but sometimes I'get really discouraged. It's been quite a while, and I've not made any friend, no one recognizes my value and I've had no progress towards finding Belle"

The older man turned around, revealing a figure lying on the table behind him.

"Look, Kid, you and your sister got the short end of the stick. She is lost in a savage world who knows where and you are a warrior in a mage world. I' like you,I'm fond of you, but I cant' say It's been easy taking care of someone who can accidentally punch holes trough metal like it's tinfoil."

The redhead grumbled.

"I did only once, and first I asked the guards to be let in..."

"But that's not the point! I'm a mage too! A dark fucking mage, and I'm pretty good at what I do"

The older man sighed. He had a short scruffy beard, wore a white gown and a pair of golden pince nez adorned his nose. Taking off the glasses, the man expression got softer and softer.

"Boy, I'm sorry to say that, but for the grand public you are not a mage, and not even a warrior. We have paladins, we have fighters. We know how to handle them. You, Max, you are a menace"

The young man smirked, pain in his eyes.

"I didnt' wanna hurt anyone, It's just... He said all those terrible things about Bella, he got so cocky that I... I just lost control."

The sclera of Maximilian Taylor started to turn black, heavy magic drifting from his figure, thick as sin and twice as dark.

"I mean, anyone would be mad while listening to some stuck up, narcissistic, pretentious asshole rambling about the things he would do to your other half."

The body on the clinic table started to tremble, still unconscious but somehow sensing the underlying threat in the air.

The doctor stared at Max, a hard look on his face.

"Yes, Boy, but when you can level mountains you need to be able to retain control at any time. Or else you will be treated just like a monster, because that's what you can be at the drop of a hat"

The young man realized what was happening, and calmed himself down, counting repeatedly to ten and back, taking deep breath after deep breath.

"Well, on the positive side, at least I won the tournament.I''m probably going to get some recognition for that, no ? "

An earthy laugh resounded in the small room. After some time, the doctor managed to regain his bearings, and looked at Maximilian.

"You won the most important even in the Magic Academies by waving a firepoker and shooting waves of crystallized dark mana out of it. We value knowledge, experience and intelligence, boy. You are what the headmaster needs, and for that, your titles and your blessing he will keep at least entertaining a relation of interests with you."

Turning around, the man kept talking.

"But you don't have what it takes to be a mage, kid. You have no patience, you have no drive and for sure you must have some condition that makes you unable to focus. If not for the massive amount of power you hold within yourself, the headmaster would have just displaced you into space and called it a day."

"You are what in ancient time was called a sorcerer. Using magic far beyond your understanding in an instinctual manner. Speaking of dark magic, necromancy major need years of advanced anatomy study before raising the dead, and fuck those poor bastards shadowmancers. Bless their soul, advanced physics is just one of the subject they have to master before being able to add mass to their creations."

"And you? You come in, wave a stick around and trounce the competition. No sympathy is coming your way, that's for sure."

Maximilian looked at the doctor, his expression unreadable.

"Then why doc? Why are you so kind? Why are you helping me so much ?"

The man shoulders dropped slightly.

"Because you are a good kid. I've saw the first day, coming here, your mind in tatters, searching for your sister. The guards attacked you, and you just stood there, absorbing blows like a black hole. Didn't even enter your mind to simply waltz in and demand something. Or the time with the orphans, the slums, that young lady at the bakery. You are a good kid, with good intention but too much power for his own good. You needed someone, and I decided to be that someone."

"And it's also a good thing that you didn't try to coerce anyone. All divination mages able to pinpoint your sister location would be able to tell what you plan and scour to the other side of the planet in a wiff. It's the only hard counter I found to your strength. Just get the fuck out and run"

Giving a pat to the body on the table, the doctor got up.

"Now, let's go to the headmaster, you keep your head down and apologetic. I'll do the talking. We have a young lady to rescue"

A big smile now on his face, Maximilian got up as well.

"Yes Mr Cromwell. Thank your for being there for me"

"Don't mention it, kid.A man has responsibilities, and since I took you in, you are one of mine."

Maximilian smile just got a tad wider. He was really happy to have someone to depend on. His sister was the most important thing in his life, and after the tournament, the headmaster finally told him her general situation. Now, he just needed to pinpoint her location, find a space mage strong enough and willing enough to take him to her, and they would be reunited again.

"I'm coming, Belle. Just wait for me, we will let them see how wrong they are. And we will punish some dirty, dirty whore for what she did."

They had a debt to collect. And collect it they would.