The Monster King's Legacy

The following day, the sun had barely begun to rise when Lance stood waiting, arms crossed, at the edge of the training ground Rusak had carved out for himself beyond the outskirts of the city. A thin morning mist clung to the grass, and the early silence was broken only by the crunch of footsteps approaching through the dew.

Rusak arrived shirtless, his tall frame moving with quiet strength. He almost looked well-rested, at least, until he saw the stack of misshapen boulders piled high behind Lance, each one larger than Lance himself.

Lance didn't say anything at first. He merely gestured toward them.

Rusak frowned. "What exactly am I looking at?"

"Your warm-up," Lance said without a hint of a smile.

Rusak raised a brow. "You're serious?"

"I told you yesterday," Lance replied calmly, stepping aside to reveal a thick rope coiled neatly on the grass, "this isn't training for fun after all."

Rusak exhaled deeply, scratching the back of his mane-like hair. "And what do I do with the rope?"

Lance crouched and tied the rope to one of the largest boulders, then gestured for Rusak to turn around. "It goes around your torso. You're dragging it while hurling the others forward one after another. Do not stop. If you stop, we start over."

Rusak's jaw tightened, but he gave no complaint. "You weren't kidding about breaking me."

"No," Lance replied. "I wasn't."

What followed was nothing short of madness for Rusak more so than for Lance.

The first hour went by with a pace that was difficult, but manageable. Rusak had always prided himself on being strong, he had led charges in many battles and fought toe-to-toe with monsters twice his size. He could carry trees, haul wagons, and fight for hours…

But this… this was different.

By the second hour, sweat soaked every inch of his skin, dripping to the floor, reminiscent of the end condition of an honor guard in training. His muscles screamed as he hurled boulder after boulder forward, each one bouncing awkwardly across the rocky terrain while the massive stone tied to his back dragged behind like a punishment from the gods.

Lance said nothing, only watching.

By the fourth hour, Rusak had collapsed twice, and had been forced to start again both times. Lance didn't speak with malice, nor did he push with cruelty. He simply held him to the standard he expected, and the standard was impossibly high.

"Why..." Rusak gasped, hurling another jagged rock that slipped from his grip halfway through the throw. He didn't even bother watching where it landed. "Why is this necessary?"

"You received a blessing," Lance said, stepping beside him now. "So did others. And some of them will surpass you if you remain the same. Are you prepared to fall behind your subordinates?"

Rusak growled low, a lion's rumble in his throat. 'That's not what I meant.'

"No."

"Then keep going." Lance said.

It wasn't just physical strength that was tested. Lance's training demanded control and discipline of the body and spirit. The rope around his torso bit into him like a brand. His hands bled. His breathing was shallow, and by the time the sun began its descent in the sky, Rusak was dragging them with his bare arms like a dying beast, teeth gritted, eyes hazy.

When at last the final rock reached its despination, Rusak collapsed on his back, chest heaving with his vision blurred.

Lance approached him slowly, his shadow falling over Rusak's form. "That'll do for today."

"Was that... the whole thing?" Rusak asked, voice cracked.

"No," Lance said, crouching beside him. "That was the warm-up. But... it's enough for today."

Rusak groaned. "You're a demon."

…

The next day, it was worse.

There were no breaks, no words of encouragement, only commands. Every time Rusak thought he had reached his limit, Lance pushed it further. He ran with boulders, practiced footwork while hauling logs, he climbed cliffs with his arm tied as Lance had determined he wouldn't be able to manage with a boulder weighting him down. When he was too tired to move, he was made to meditate in total silence and after a while, he had to do it while balancing on a narrow pillar of stone, lest he fall and start again.

At night, he barely reached his bed. And even then, he slept without any dreams, and when he would have one, his dreams were full of falling, dragging, lifting and relentless commands. It was cnothing short of a nightmare.

Nevertheless, Rusak never quit. Day after day, they returned. Lance never let him slack off, and by the end of each week, Rusak would realize how worth it everything was. He was changing, and rapidly so. So much that he couldn't be compared to himself from the previous weeks.

…

In the blink of an eye, the final day arrived after a full month had passed.

Rusak stood at the training field with a calmness he hadn't known before. His body felt lighter, even as he dragged the massive boulder behind him again. But this time, he didn't struggle. His muscles didn't burn with the same desperation. His breathing remained mostly steady.

Lance watched him carefully, arms folded. "You've plateaued," Lance said plainly.

Rusak dropped the last stone with a deep grunt and nodded. "I feel it. The progress has slowed."

"That means it's time."

Rusak's eyes opened up a bit. "Time?"

"To test the results," Lance said. "We'll know whether this was all worth it."

Rusak gave a half-smile, wiping sweat from his brow. "So we're sparring again?"

"No," Lance replied. "Not exactly sparring. We'll be fighting. No holding back, of course, mostly on you end."

Rusak's grin widened. "Finally."

They stood there in the quiet for a few more seconds before Lance approached him with an outstretched arm towards his shoulder. Immediately, Rusak felt a warmth spread through him, and just like that, all his fatigue was gone, and his body felt anew. Throughout the training, there were only a few times Lance had used his magic ability on him, and this last one signified preparation.

Lance then turned away. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we see what you've become."

Rusak watched him leave, chest rising and falling, heart thudding not from exhaustion—but from anticipation.

More than anything, he too wanted to know the outcome with battle.