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Chapter 6



He would start his day by eating breakfast. On his first day after reincarnation, Gerard found Repenhardt’s attitude peculiar and, as a form of punishment, made him start training without breakfast. However, once Repenhardt began to behave, Gerard took good care of his disciple’s body.

Originally, the training method of the Gym Unbreakable included meals as an essential part of practice. The cuisine was nutritionally perfect, rich in proteins, calories, and various nutrients. The only problem was the complete lack of consideration for taste.

After struggling to distinguish whether his breakfast was rice, pig slop, or something regurgitated by a cow, Repenhardt would immediately start getting beaten. It was an ordeal of relentless beating, followed by lying dead-like in a bath of healing potion and herbal cocktail, then voraciously eating lunch. This marked the end of the morning training.

The afternoon was followed by intense muscle training and then an absurd amount of dinner. The evening training routine was the same as in the morning: getting beaten to death, taking a bath, and then collapsing into sleep.

Getting beaten to death, eating to death, lifting to death, and sleeping like dead.

For Repenhardt, who had lived as a magician, these were unimaginably tough times. Naturally, he tried to escape at every opportunity. He thought it better to be called a Demon King than to continue living in such brutal hell.

But it was all in vain. His master, like a ghost, always found out about Repenhardt’s attempts to flee and blocked them. And he would say this:

“My disciple, when I was training under my master, I went through all this too. I’ve done all these things, so how could I not understand how you feel? But if you endure a bit longer, you’ll see that you’ll be rewarded.”

In the actual Gym Unbreakable, there was a know-how on the “Preemptive Blockage of Disciple Escape Attempts” that had been accumulated meticulously over 130 years. Since it was a prestigious martial sect where not a single disciple hadn’t attempted to feign illness to avoid training or hadn’t tried to run away at some point, virtually every conceivable unique attempt had been made at least once. This 130 years’ worth of know-how was faithfully reflected in the disciple training manual, ensuring that there was no trick Repenhardt could attempt that wouldn’t be blocked.

* * *

Two months later.

The man called the Devil for his indomitable spirit, Repenhardt, eventually abandoned the thought of escaping. Gerard’s surveillance network was so persistent that it even made him abandon his lifelong beliefs. Moreover, even if he managed to escape by luck, given that man’s personality, it was obvious he would be pursued to the ends of the continent. He would be caught and returned anyway…

‘It’s better to formally ask for permission to leave the mountain.’

Fortunately, he remembered what level of mastery the future Teslon had achieved and had confirmed that the future Teslon was indeed alive. That meant, without a doubt, his body could endure this absurd training method and survive. Not just survive, but attain the lofty realm of martial arts, becoming the strongest fighter of the age.

On reflection, it wasn’t a bad deal at all. Knowing for sure that he would reach such a state in the future, enduring this level of hardship seemed insignificant. Of course, this did not mean he had given up on the path of magic…

‘Wouldn’t a healthy, muscular wizard be better than a frail one, after all?’

Having changed his mindset, Repenhardt decided to take Gerard’s teachings seriously. Well, there wasn’t much about being serious or not. It was just about closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, and enduring the beatings.

‘Besides, that old man isn’t really a bad person, after all.’

Another reason Repenhardt changed his mind was because of the way Gerard treated him.

Gerard sincerely and genuinely cherished and loved his disciple. He was truly dedicated to educating Repenhardt, albeit with a rather unsophisticated method of training. However, his eyes were always filled with affection and concern for his disciple.

This devoted affection was something Repenhardt had never experienced before.

Magicians would make a big deal out of teaching even a single line of magic to their apprentices. To learn even the most basic 1st-circle spell, one had to serve their master like a slave for at least three years.

In contrast, Gerard would even take care of his disciple’s needs. He cooked meals (though it’s debatable if it could be called cooking) and cleaned (if there was energy left to clean, Gerard would rather have Repenhardt take another hit or lift a rock one more time). Moreover, there were no tuition fees. Gerard generously spent his own money on Repenhardt’s education, covering the costs for meals and bathing water, which must have amounted to an astronomical sum.

Repenhardt had once boldly asked Gerard what he expected in return for doing all this.

Gerard responded with a look that questioned the absurdity of the question.

“A master is like a parent. Isn’t it natural to give everything to a disciple who is like a child?”

This was unimaginable in the relationship between magicians and their apprentices. For Repenhardt, who grew up an orphan and spent his childhood under a magician, this affection was both burdensome and oddly comforting. Thus, he sometimes thought of running away but would then remember Gerard’s eyes, his expressions, and decide against it.

Indeed, Gerard had his reasons. He had finally found his successor after 30 years. The so-called Gym Unbreakable had lost more than a dozen disciples to his brutally unsophisticated training methods in the early days. Therefore, it was natural for him to cherish the disciple he finally obtained. This cherishing manifested in excessive violence, which was Repenhardt’s sorrow, but regardless, Gerard was sincerely loving his disciple. There was no doubt about that.

Thus, two years passed in this ‘hell filled with love.’

* * *

Today, Repenhardt was again tied to a stake, taking his punishment. Shedding the vestiges of boyhood, his physique had undergone a transformation, now vastly different from two years ago. Bamboo strikes felt refreshing rather than painful to him now. There was no longer a need for a gag. His jaw strength, honed to perfection, could chew through any gag presented to him.

However, that did not mean the current physical training was painless. Gerard was now using a steel mace instead of bamboo to beat his disciple.

“Ugh, ughh! Ughhh!”

Gritting his teeth, Repenhardt focused intently on the image of physical strengthening, along with the unique breathing technique. Practicing this continuously amidst the beating somewhat alleviated the pain.

It was during such a moment.

Suddenly, an unusual sensation surged throughout his body, an experience unlike any before.

“Gasp!”

A powerful energy burst from his lower abdomen, swiftly coursing through every limb a hundredfold. Filled with this energy, an unimaginable strength enveloped him. Unknowingly, Repenhardt twisted his body.

Crash!

The thick iron chains binding him (rope could no longer hold Repenhardt’s brute strength) shattered, freeing his arms. Repenhardt looked at his arms in a daze, noticing a faint golden aura swirling around his sturdy muscles.

“What, what is this?”

“Ahahaha!”

Gerard laughed heartily, patting Repenhardt on the shoulder without hiding his joy.

“Congratulations, my disciple. You have finally awakened your Aura.”

Aura, the life force.

A martial artist who has reached a certain realm can feel the energy of the world, absorbing it into their body to transform it into their own strength. This power, also known as Aura, enhances the body to the point where it can smash rocks and leap over walls with superhuman strength. Additionally, depending on how the Aura is utilized, it can regenerate the body or be projected as a long-range attack, exhibiting magical capabilities.

The continent is vast, and countless warriors dedicate themselves to martial pursuits. Yet, among them, only one in ten thousand reaches the realm of manipulating aura.

Even the most basic aura manipulation, simply using aura to enhance one’s physical capabilities, could easily earn someone the treatment of a knight commander in a small nation. Such is the rarity and power of an aura user.

“My goodness, is this the legendary aura I’ve heard so much about?”

Repenhardt himself could hardly believe it, repeatedly scanning his entire body in awe. Even the Sword Saint Cyrus was said to have awakened his aura in his late twenties, an achievement considered unprecedented on the continent and worthy of being hailed as a genius. And yet, Repenhardt, not even twenty, had awakened his aura?

But Gerard acted as if it was to be expected.

“Why so surprised? With our Gym Unbreakable’s training method, this level of achievement is only natural. I was already thinking it was about time.”

Indeed, there wouldn’t be such an arduous training method if it weren’t effective. Nodding in silent agreement, suddenly, Gerard struck Repenhardt’s abdomen with a steel mace he was holding.

Thwack!

Repenhardt simply stared as the blow that could shatter rocks hammered his abs. There was definitely an impact, but…

Gerard grinned.

“How is it? It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?”

“Yes, master…”

Repenhardt replied in a daze.

“Wow, it seems all the hardships were worth it.”

The hardships he had endured flashed through his mind like a lantern slide. The thought that such rewards could be earned made the hellish ordeal seem worthwhile. Gerard had said that he would be thankful to his master once he reached this realm, and it seemed there was truth in his words after all.

Gerard proudly shrugged his shoulders.

“By striking the entire body to strengthen it, while simultaneously stimulating the survival instinct, a strong will to live enhances one’s vitality, and this increased strength eventually manifests as aura. Though the process is painful, there is no more efficient method in the continent to awaken aura! So, my disciple, do you now understand the excellence of this training method?”

Gerard threw the steel mace onto the ground. There was no need for it anymore.

“It’s about time to finish the physical conditioning training.”

Finally, the painful days were over! Repenhardt smiled with joy. He was happy to have awakened his aura, but even happier at the thought that he would no longer be hit.

Gerard smiled broadly.

“Let’s move on to the next stage. It’s time for skill training.”

Ah, now I’ll finally learn some proper martial arts. Then, I can leave the mountain soon, right? For these two years, he had done nothing but build muscle and get hit. He hadn’t learned a single proper punch or kick.

Repenhardt asked eagerly, “What is skill training, Master?”

Gerard grinned and raised his fist.

“Free sparring with me.”

“……”

Lost for words, Repenhardt looked up at his master’s fists. Those two fists, reminiscent of a dwarf-made steel hammer, were shimmering with a dazzling golden aura. They looked so brilliantly different in quality compared to Repenhardt’s faint aura.

‘How much would it hurt to be hit by that?’

Soon, Repenhardt would feel the answer himself.

“Aaaaaah!”

Feeling Gerard’s ‘loving strikes’ diving into his weak spots, Repenhardt was in despair.

The ‘hell filled with love’ had not ended. It had just begun.


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