Kael stepped inside Edwin's private training room and quietly closed the heavy wooden door behind him.
The air inside was humid, and faintly smelled of sweat and iron—typical of a room constantly used by the academy's top fighters.
The room was larger than the standard practice rooms, almost the size of a small hall.
Weapons lined the walls: spears, practice swords, weighted clubs, dummies, and iron pillars for conditioning.
On the far end stood a thick wooden straw dummy wrapped in rope.
Kael walked toward it.
His footsteps echoed across the polished stone floor.
He touched his stomach where Kaigaku had landed the hit.
His fingers sank into bruised skin.
He winced.
"Did I really… improve my strength?" he muttered to himself.
He clenched his fists—those same fists that had beaten Kaigaku, a second-year rank two, without using a sword.
But something inside still felt uncertain.
"That wasn't enough," Kael whispered.
