The Monarch Of The End Chapter 5: 005 : The Painful Routine at the Garrison Center

Read chapter 5 of The Monarch Of The End by TheBlackPenguin on NovelPedia.

Chapter 5: The Painful Routine of the Outer Garrison Some days pass as lightly as a feather, while others feel heavier than mountains—the first two weeks on Zeroxsus were definitely the latter. Every morning, beneath the blazing summer sun, the trainees were forced to complete three hundred push-ups, followed by countless other exercises. And all of that was before eating a breakfast which is barely sufficient to keep them conscious. Still... it's better than nothing, Zeroxsus muttered to himself with quiet sarcasm. His thoughts wandered back to the slums. The food there had been no better, and he constantly had to deal with gang harassment. Sure, he could fight, but numbers always defeated courage. Tom who was standing next to Zeroxsus glanced over at him. The two of them had grown a little closer over the past few days, Zeroxsus had realized he couldn’t live as the secretive boy forever .. not that Tom would let him continue in that role anyway… "It's been two weeks, Zero." Tom grinned. "My sincerest congratulations. You're still sane..." Zeroxsus smiled faintly without looking at him, He paused dramatically before adding with a wink, "Well... assuming we ignore the fact that you wake up before sunrise, train like you're preparing to wrestle a dragon, and only speak when your life is in danger." He shrugged. "Perfectly normal behavior, really." Although Tom somehow managed to sleep through Zeroxsus's nightly training sessions, figuring out that he trained every night hadn't been difficult. Tom genuinely admired Zeroxsus's determination and iron will. What about Zeroxsus on the other hand? He actually admired Tom for a completely different reason. How does this idiot manage to sleep through all this chaos? To each of them the other was a biological miracle worthy of scientific study. "..." At long last, morning training ended breakfast finally arrived. As they stood in line, Tom talked nonstop, like a radio that never needed batteries. He commented on everything. Zeroxsus remained mostly silent, only replying whenever something genuinely caught his interest. This had become his daily routine. Wake before dawn. Train alone. Endure the morning drills. Endure Tom's endless chatter. Eat another serving of that nutrient-packed paste that somehow managed to taste awful every single day. And that wasn't all. Every morning, Ryan also arrived to fight another trainee. "If it could even be called a fight" Zeroxsus whispered to himself Every night, Zeroxsus wakes and practiced the sword techniques the old man had taught him. Compared to true masters, his skills were nothing remarkable. A second-level Hunter... How am I supposed to defeat someone like that when I'm nothing more than a trainee? That's simply impossible. Ever since Tom had explained the promotion requirements, Zeroxsus had realized he was trapped. Perhaps forever. He also found himself wondering... How long had Ryan been in charge of the trainees? And... Was this truly the only path toward becoming a Hunter? There's no way this is my only option. For now... I'll focus on getting stronger. He pushed those unnecessary thoughts aside. The question had haunted him ever since he arrived. But he knew one thing. His road to becoming a Hunter was still incredibly long. Another night passed. When dawn arrived, the trainees gathered once more in the yard. Their eyes were lifeless. Their bodies stiff. They looked less like men preparing to train... And more like prisoners waiting for punishment. As always, Ryan stood there in deathly silence. The moment one of his assistants arrived carrying the wooden swords... Ryan pointed straight at Tom. Tom raised an eyebrow before offering a hopeless grin. "Ah... wonderful." "My turn to become his breakfast." Without changing either his expression or his tone, Zeroxsus replied, "I just hope he aims for your mouth first, it'll benefit all of us." Tom walked into the circle and picked up the wooden sword. For someone who normally looked carefree.