The New World (3)
909 Words
Zenon Fernandez was a far cry from the warrior he had once been. His arms were thin, his muscles underdeveloped, and his posture lacked the confidence of someone who had faced death and emerged stronger. This body was weak—far too weak to carry the power he still believed was inside him.
He exhaled sharply.
“That changes today.”
Phase One: Breaking the Limits
Zenon knew that traditional training wouldn’t be enough. If his stats had remained at the lowest rank for over a year, something was blocking his growth. He needed to break through that limitation, and there was only one way to do it—push his body beyond its limits.
He dropped to the floor and started with push-ups.
One. Two. Three…
The first ten were easy, but by the fifteenth, his arms trembled. By the twentieth, his breath came in ragged gasps. His mind screamed at him to stop.
But he didn’t.
“Come on… I’ve been through worse.”
Back in his previous world, he had endured far more grueling training. This was nothing compared to the brutal regimen of a swordsman seeking revenge. He clenched his jaw and kept going.
By the time he reached fifty, his arms gave out, and he collapsed onto the wooden floor, gasping for air.
Not enough.
After a few deep breaths, he forced himself up and started squats, feeling the burn in his legs with each repetition. Then sit-ups. Then planks.
An hour passed. His entire body felt like it was on fire, every fiber of his muscles screaming for relief. He had never felt this weak before.
But he welcomed the pain.
Because pain meant progress.
And if he wanted to wield his true strength again, he would have to reshape this body into something worthy.
Phase Two: Testing His Limits
Once his body was warmed up, Zenon needed to test something important.
Did he still have his combat instincts?
He grabbed a wooden stick from the corner of the room—his closest substitute for a sword. Taking a deep breath, he assumed a familiar stance. His grip was steady, his posture aligned. Muscle memory took over, guiding his movements.
Then he swung.
The first strike was weak. Sloppy. The air resistance felt heavier than it should have.
He adjusted.
The next strike was better.
Then another. And another.
Soon, he lost himself in the rhythm of combat. Slashes, thrusts, parries—his body lagged behind his mind, but the technique was still there. The muscle memory from his past life hadn’t faded, but his body lacked the speed and endurance to execute his skills properly.
Zenon gritted his teeth.
This is just a temporary setback.
His body wasn’t ready yet. But it would be.
Phase Three: Awakening the Power Within
The final step was the hardest.
If his power was still within him, then he had to awaken it.
Zenon sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes. He focused inward, searching for that familiar wellspring of energy—the power that had once fueled his every battle.
At first, there was nothing. Just the sound of his own breathing.
But then…
A flicker.
A faint, pulsing warmth deep within him.
His heart pounded. He reached for it, trying to grasp that power, to force it to awaken.
The warmth surged for a brief second—then vanished.
Zenon opened his eyes, his breath ragged.
It was there. He could feel it. His power still existed within him, locked away beneath layers of weakness. It wasn’t gone—it was dormant.
And that meant it could be awakened.
The Path Forward
Zenon wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood. His body was sore, his muscles aching, but he felt alive.
This was just the beginning.
He would train every day. He would push his body, break through its limits, and force it to adapt.
And once he was ready…
He would enter a Gate.
Because there was no better way to temper himself than by facing real combat.
Zenon clenched his fists, a smirk forming on his lips.
This world had cast him aside as weak.
It wouldn’t be long before he proved them all wrong.
Three Months Later…
The sound of fists striking wood echoed through the clearing. Sweat dripped from Zenon's brow as he threw another punch at the training post, his knuckles raw but steady.
Three months of relentless training had reshaped his body. His once frail arms had hardened, his legs carried more strength, and most importantly, his endurance had improved.
The changes were small, but they were real.
Zenon opened his status window.
[ Status Window ]
Name: Zenon Fernandez
Rank: E
Strength: 4.8
Agility: 5
Magic: 4.6
Battle IQ: 4.7
Defense: 5
A smirk formed on his lips. He had finally moved forward.
His strength had improved—he could now carry more weight, strike harder, and last longer in combat. His magic had also begun to flow more freely, though he still struggled to wield it properly. More importantly, his Battle IQ had increased, allowing him to analyze movements and tactics with sharper precision.
It wasn’t a massive leap, but it was proof that he could grow.
The stagnation was over.
Zenon closed his fists. His body was still far from perfect, but at least now, he had something to work with.
The next step was clear.
It was time to enter a Gate.
- Writer
