That night, after a full day of being wrecked, Duncan lay face-down on his bed like a corpse.
His entire body throbbed with a dense, deep pain that made even rolling over feel like an impossible task. He still needed Zeus to update his status, but exhaustion hit first—hard. Before Zeus could finish, Duncan's consciousness sank straight into sleep.
Earlier, the very first throw had nearly stolen his breath.
By the time night fell, Zeus had tossed him around so many times that Duncan no longer knew whether the pain had gone numb… or whether his body had actually started learning how to take a beating.
Either way, the day ended only after Duncan finally managed to get flung away and still rise with sword and shield clenched tight in his hands.
A faint blue light flashed.
Zeus slit his finger, expression tightening. With a thousand years in the Lower World, even he fell into rare silence—thinking.
Zald and Alfia stood nearby. Both were clearly interested in Duncan's skill. A "correction" to experience sounded like faster growth on paper, but no one knew what "faster" meant until they saw it.
For adventurers, Ability Values mattered almost as much as level.
At the same level, a high-stat adventurer and a low-stat adventurer weren't even in the same category of threat—and the higher the level, the more vicious that gap became.
As the former trump cards of Zeus and Hera Familias, Zald and Alfia had seen more than most.
And yet neither of them had ever seen a skill like this.
"…It's too fast," Zeus finally said, voice low. "Skills that improve growth efficiency are rare but not unheard of. But this speed? First time I've seen it."
He pressed a piece of parchment against Duncan's back, then peeled it away once the imprint formed and tossed it to Zald.
Zald's brows jumped.
Even Alfia's eyes narrowed slightly.
Duncan
Level: Lv.1
Strength: I32
Endurance: G207
Dexterity: H118
Agility: I33
Magic: I0
Nearly four hundred points—off practice and getting thrown.
Even for a low-level adventurer, it was abnormal. Most people only grew through real dungeon work—through combat with monsters and life-or-death pressure.
Simple personal training barely moved the needle.
Yet Duncan had gained a chunk that made even veterans pause and stare at him like a rare artifact.
Zeus's gaze sharpened.
"Zald," he said, tone no longer casual. "Tomorrow, you train him too. Alfia—you as well."
The voice carried authority. For a moment, the "retired old man" disappeared, and what stood there was the god who once commanded the strongest Familia in Orario.
Zald's throat tightened.
"Old man… are you planning to—"
Neither Zald nor Alfia agreed. Neither refused. They simply looked at Zeus, faces heavy with something unspoken.
"Later," Zeus cut it off. "We'll talk about 'later' later."
His eyes burned with a bright, dangerous excitement.
"It'd be a waste to throw away a seedling like this. If it's him, maybe he can catch up—"
He stopped himself mid-thought, then exhaled through his nose.
"No. Not yet. Don't decide too early."
He pointed at Duncan.
"Starting tomorrow, both of you join. His endurance improved a lot. But his strength and agility lag behind—probably because I wasn't striking back. So tomorrow we change the format."
Zeus's grin widened.
"Chase drills. I want to see where this kid's limit really is."
Zald watched him carefully.
Since the great collapse—the defeat that ended everything—Zald hadn't seen Zeus look like this. He didn't say anything, but after years together, he understood what it meant.
The old fire in Zeus… was starting to burn again.
Morning came.
Bell, bright-eyed and full of energy, shook Duncan awake.
Duncan blinked, expecting the familiar ache to flood back.
But it didn't.
The pain from yesterday was… gone. Cleanly gone.
He flexed his fingers, clenched his fist, and felt it—the improvement was unmistakable. Stronger. Denser. More alive.
So his status update had happened while he slept.
He stepped out and greeted everyone, then ate breakfast while checking the numbers Zeus had updated.
Duncan still didn't have a good sense of what the values meant. It was his first time seeing stats in any real, lived way. And judging by how calm everyone looked, the increase must not be a big deal—right?
It made sense.
Zeus was a top-tier god. Zald and Alfia were both rare Lv.7 monsters.
Standing in front of people like that, Duncan's gains didn't feel worth getting arrogant about.
If anything, he felt eager.
Humans love positive feedback. And after personally feeling his body improve, the resentment he'd held toward Zeus for yesterday's "training" evaporated.
In its place—gratitude.
Not because he enjoyed pain. He wasn't that kind of person.
But because pain that makes you stronger is hard to hate.
After breakfast, they went outside as usual to the grassy clearing.
Duncan copied Zald's way of addressing Zeus.
"Old man, is today's training the same as yesterday?"
Bell volunteered for the daily chores. Duncan felt genuine relief—after being brutalized yesterday, the last thing he wanted was to wash dishes or cook.
And neither Zald nor Alfia looked like the type to handle that kind of work. By unspoken hierarchy, it would've fallen on the outsider: him.
Bell stepping in was basically salvation.
Zeus didn't object to the "old man" title.
"Today's training changes," he said, then gestured at Zald and Alfia.
"Yesterday you were a novice, and they were worried about accidentally hitting too hard and leaving you crippled. But after yesterday, your endurance jumped. You can feel that, right?"
"I can," Duncan admitted, looking at his hands. "The pain vanished after sleeping. Is that because of the update?"
Zeus snorted.
"Don't be stupid. Status updates aren't miracle pills. They just reflect your accumulated growth in numbers."
He tapped Duncan's chest lightly.
"The pain is gone because your endurance is higher—better damage resistance, better recovery. That's all."
Then Zeus's face turned serious.
"Don't misunderstand recovery either. Without skills or medicine, this only makes small injuries heal faster—bruises, minor strain. It won't save you from real trauma."
Duncan nodded immediately.
Advice that affected his survival was the kind he listened to.
"Understood. So what's today's training?"
Zeus smiled like a man about to hand someone a sentence.
"I was worried you wouldn't be recovered. But since you say you're fine, I'm reassured."
He pointed again at Zald and Alfia.
"Today, they're the ones training you."
Zald stepped forward two paces.
In his hands was a wooden club as thick as Duncan's forearm.
He swung it once—slow, casual—and the air cracked.
Then, in the same calm voice he might use to describe the weather, Zald said:
"My training is simple."
He lifted the club and leveled it toward Duncan.
"Dodge my attacks."
"And stay alive."
-------
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