A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 436 Retribution - Part 11

"Tsch... The fools who designed this test all those centuries ago, they didn't know what they were doing. Even more than the Three Trials in the summer, this is liable to get someone killed," the man said. He glared at the sky, as though cursing someone, and then began to shamble away, Oliver's clothes in his hand.

"I had to hand them off. They didn't want them in reach," Verdant explained.

Oliver shrugged, and glanced at the crowd again. It was a mere quarter of what it was before, as the students continued to stream away. The interesting part was done – now they would get their news and their entertainment in the morning.

"I suppose tonight will be a night of training then," he said. "Seeing as I have to keep moving."

"It will do no good for your wounds to push yourself too hard," Verdant said, but Oliver was already on the floor, performing an energetic set of press-ups, as he sought to get the heat back into his body that the swim – and the slow walk back – had cost him.

Verdant sighed, realizing that it wasn't as though Oliver had much choice.

Though Oliver was treating it quite cavalierly, and he deemed the test to be easy, if anything, he still had to pay it the minimum amount of respect that it was due. Spending the whole night, keeping his body heat up, that would be the answer to that.

Once he'd done his press-ups, he began to run. Lightly at first, and then faster, until he was sprinting. He bounced from foot to foot when he came to a stop, allowing his feet to loosen up. There was a freedom to his body that he hadn't felt in a long time. Though wounded, this was the body of the strong.

Since his battle with Francis, he was stronger than ever before. Faster. More agile. His sparring with Bournemouth had already proved his improved skill with the sword. There were other heights to be reached, despite the challenges that were inherent in them. There was the Third Boundary to claw towards.

He pondered it for a moment, wondering whether it was breaking the rules of the trial. Then he wondered whether he would be able to get into the storage room at this time of night, as he imagined the walk there, and the walk back...

"I suppose I can, if you like," Verdant said. "It will take me a while, though. Half an hour, perhaps?"

"Ah, you don't have to. But it would be nice if you could," Oliver said. He'd stayed in the area around the Central Castle by unspoken agreement, to make it easier for the soldiers that watched over him, and the trainee medical staff that were on hand with them.

"I'll go," Verdant assured him.

...

...

Oliver spent much of the night like that. Midnight came and went, and his relentless movements did not cease. In fact, they grew even more intense. He found that there was a wealth of discovery to be had. There was so much he had not yet tapped into, so much he had gained, and not yet integrated. It was an absolute delight.

That warm feeling that came with strength and progress, the feeling that touched Oliver's heart more than any other thing, filled him as he played in the snowlit courtyard. He quickly got the hang of handstands, and then proceeded to perform handstand pushups. It was a skill that would have taken him much longer to acquire in the past, but now it came to him easily.

The newfound balance that he'd gained from his prolonged dizzy spells, and his newfound strength from all the battles that he'd been forced to undergo, they worked together excitedly, as he conquered one task after another.