Year Four began with a feast.
Kaelen sat across from Commander Arcturus in the main hall of the house, staring at the table in disbelief.
There was food. Real food.
Not the simple rice and vegetables they'd been eating for three years. This was a banquet—roasted meats that smelled incredible, fresh fruits he hadn't seen since Aria's flying car had carried imported supplies, steaming vegetables glazed with herbs, and even desserts.
"Is this... real?" Kaelen asked, picking up a piece of perfectly cooked meat.
"Eat," Arcturus commanded, already helping himself. "You'll need your strength."
Kaelen didn't need to be told twice. He ate ravenously, savoring every bite. After three years of bland training food, this felt like a gift from the gods themselves.
Fenrir lay beside the table in his Battle Form—horse-sized now, having learned to shift between sizes over the past year. The Commander tossed him chunks of meat, which the wolf caught mid-air with obvious delight.
"Food is good! Master, food is very good!"
"I know, boy. I know."
They ate in comfortable silence for a while. Kaelen had grown over the past three years—he was eight years old now, taller, leaner, his body hardened by endless training. His face had lost all traces of childhood softness, replaced by the lean, sharp features of someone who'd known discipline and pain.
Finally, as Kaelen reached for a third helping, Arcturus spoke.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"Very much. Thank you, Commander." Kaelen paused. "But why? You've never done anything like this before. What's the occasion?"
Arcturus set down his cup and looked at Kaelen with an expression that might have been sympathy. Or amusement. It was hard to tell.
"From tomorrow," the Commander said calmly, "you will sit beneath the waterfall. Day and night. For three months."
Kaelen's hand froze halfway to his mouth.
"Three... months?"
"Yes. You will not move. You will not sleep. You will meditate under the crushing weight of water, learning to endure what should break you." Arcturus's voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "The waterfall's pressure is equivalent to having several tons of weight constantly bearing down on you. Your body will scream. Your mind will beg you to stop. And you will endure it anyway."
Kaelen's appetite vanished. "For three entire months?"
"Yes."
"But—"
"And don't think death will save you, boy." Arcturus leaned forward, his eyes hard. "If you die—if you drown, if your body gives out, if you fail—I will resurrect you. And you will start from the beginning. Day one. Until you complete the full three months without interruption."
The threat hung in the air like a blade.
Kaelen's stomach churned. He looked down at the feast before him, suddenly understanding.
This is my last comfort. My last moment of peace before hell.
"After those three months," Arcturus continued, "at noon, you will receive one slash from Fenrir's claws. A deep wound across your chest or back. And you will continue training—sparring, running, combat drills—with that open wound for another three months. No healing. No divine regeneration. I'll suppress it."
Kaelen felt the blood drain from his face. "Six months total?"
"Six months of learning what true endurance means. The body can be strengthened through exercise. The mind can be sharpened through study. But the will—the ability to continue when everything screams at you to stop, when pain is all you know, when death seems preferable to one more second of suffering—that can only be forged in the crucible of agony."
Arcturus stood and walked to the window, looking out at the waterfall in the distance.
"You have power, Kaelen. Raw, divine power. But power without will is useless. I've seen gods fall because they couldn't endure suffering. I've seen mortals with a fraction of your strength accomplish miracles because their will was unbreakable." He turned back. "I'm going to break you. And then you're going to rebuild yourself stronger."
Kaelen stared at his plate, his hands trembling slightly.
Six months. Six months of torture.
"He's not joking," Crust said quietly. "I can feel his intent. He means every word."
"I know."
"You could refuse. Walk away. The training would end, but at least you'd keep your sanity."
"No." Kaelen's voice was hoarse, but firm. "I came here to become strong. Strong enough to protect everyone. If this is what it takes..."
He looked up at Arcturus.
"I'll do it."
The Commander's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Approval, perhaps.
"Good. Eat well tonight, boy. It's the last comfort you'll have for six months."
The next morning, Arcturus woke Kaelen before dawn.
"Before we begin," the Commander said, "there's one more thing. Your wolf comes with me."
Kaelen's head snapped up. "What?"
"Fenrir needs specialized training that I cannot provide while supervising your endurance trial. I'm taking him to the northern mountains for three months. When you emerge from the waterfall, he'll return with new capabilities."
"You're separating us?" Kaelen felt a spike of panic. Fenrir had been with him constantly for years. The bond between them was unbreakable.
"Master?" Fenrir's voice was uncertain in his mind. "Fenrir doesn't want to leave Master."
"It's necessary," Arcturus said firmly. "His training requires my full attention. And your endurance training requires absolute solitude. No distractions. No comfort. Just you and the water."
Kaelen looked at Fenrir—his companion, his friend, his partner. The wolf looked back, worried.
"It's okay, boy," Kaelen said softly, scratching behind Fenrir's ears. "Three months. We'll see each other after. And you'll be stronger for it."
"Fenrir will be strong. For Master. Always for Master."
"I know."
Arcturus placed a hand on Fenrir's head, and they both vanished—teleported to whatever northern mountains existed in this realm.
And Kaelen was alone.
The waterfall was exactly as brutal as promised.
Kaelen sat cross-legged on a flat rock directly beneath the cascade. The water hit him like a hammer—constant, crushing, relentless. It felt like the sky itself was trying to drive him into the ground.
Within the first hour, every muscle in his body was screaming.
Within the first day, he'd lost all sense of time.
By the end of the first week, he understood what true suffering meant.
The pressure was constant. Unending. Every second felt like an eternity. His lungs burned from the effort of breathing. His spine felt like it would snap. His divine body kept him alive, but it couldn't stop the pain.
"You're doing well," Crust said quietly. "Better than I expected."
"Doesn't... feel like it..."
"You're still here. Still conscious. That counts."
Days blurred together. Kaelen stopped counting. Stopped thinking. He existed in a state of pure endurance—no past, no future, just the eternal now of water crushing down on him.
He tried to meditate, like Arcturus had taught him. To find the calm center within the storm. But the pain made it nearly impossible.
Focus on your breathing, he told himself. In. Out. Just breathe. That's all. Just keep breathing.
Weeks passed.
At some point—maybe a month in?—Kaelen felt something shift. The pain didn't disappear. But it became... manageable. Background noise instead of all-consuming agony.
This is what he wanted, Kaelen realized. Not for me to stop feeling pain. But to function despite it.
He found the meditation then. In the space between breaths. In the moment before the next wave of pressure hit. He found stillness.
And in that stillness, his Endurance stat grew.
Not from leveling. Not from divine power.
From pure, stubborn will.
Two months in, Kaelen nearly drowned.
He'd been meditating, lost in the calm, when exhaustion finally caught up with him. His concentration slipped for just a second—
And the water filled his lungs.
He gasped, choked, tried to move—
The pressure pinned him down.
I'm going to die, he thought distantly. I'm actually going to die here.
His vision darkened. His lungs burned. His body screamed for air—
And then, suddenly, the water stopped.
Kaelen coughed violently, water pouring from his mouth and nose. He looked up through blurred vision.
Arcturus stood on the bank, hand raised, the waterfall frozen in mid-air.
"Disappointing," the Commander said coldly. "I expected you to last at least two and a half months before your first death."
"I'm... not... dead..." Kaelen gasped.
"Close enough." Arcturus lowered his hand, and the water resumed its fall—but diverted around Kaelen, giving him a moment to recover. "You let your guard down. Allowed exhaustion to compromise your concentration. In real combat, that mistake would be fatal."
"I'm... sorry..."
"Don't apologize. Learn." The Commander studied him. "But you've made progress. Your endurance has grown significantly. Your body has adapted to constant pressure. And most importantly—you haven't quit."
Kaelen managed a weak smile. "You said... you'd resurrect me... if I died..."
"I did. But I'm impressed you haven't tested that claim." Arcturus gestured, and the water returned to its normal flow. "One more month, boy. You can do this."
The water crashed down on Kaelen again.
But somehow, it felt lighter than before.
Three months to the day, Arcturus called an end to the trial.
Kaelen stood—or tried to. His legs nearly gave out. He'd been sitting so long, under such pressure, that movement felt foreign.
The Commander caught him before he fell.
"Easy. Your body needs time to adjust." Arcturus helped him to the grass beside the waterfall. "But you did it. Three months. No deaths. No giving up."
Kaelen lay on his back, staring up at the sky through cherry blossom branches. The absence of crushing pressure felt like floating.
"How... how much did I improve?" he asked hoarsely.
"Check your status."
Kaelen pulled up his stats with a thought.
[Status Update]
Level: 18 (unchanged)
Stats:
Strength: 450 (+200 from natural growth and light training)
Agility: 430 (+150 from maintaining position)
Endurance: 780 (+560 from waterfall training)
Intelligence: 650 (+350 from meditation and mental discipline)
Divine Power: 520 (+70 from natural maturation)
Kaelen stared. His Endurance had nearly tripled.
"The waterfall doesn't just test the body," Arcturus explained. "It tests the mind. The soul. You meditated under conditions that would break most warriors. That sharpened your mental discipline, which increased your Intelligence. And your Endurance..." He smiled slightly. "That speaks for itself."
"I feel... different."
"You are different. Pain will never control you again. Discomfort will never make you quit. You've learned what it means to endure." The Commander offered his hand. "Come. There's someone who wants to see you."
Fenrir appeared at the edge of the courtyard.
But he looked... different.
He was in his Battle Form—horse-sized—but something about him seemed more refined. More controlled. His silver fur gleamed with perfect health, and the electricity crackling around him was more focused, less wild.
"Master!" The wolf bounded over, and Kaelen barely had time to brace before Fenrir was licking his face enthusiastically. "Master survived! Fenrir knew Master would!"
"I missed you too, boy." Kaelen hugged the massive wolf, feeling the warm fur, the steady heartbeat. "You look different. What happened?"
"Fenrir learned many things! Commander taught Fenrir to be better!"
"Show him," Arcturus said.
Fenrir stepped back and concentrated.
Golden light surrounded him—and his body grew.
In seconds, he expanded from horse-sized to his full Titan Form—elephant-sized, massive and intimidating, electricity arcing across his entire body in brilliant blue lightning.
Then, just as quickly, he shrank back to Battle Form.
"Two forms," Kaelen breathed. "You can switch between them?"
"Yes! Titan Form for big enemies! Battle Form for fighting with Master!" Fenrir was practically vibrating with excitement. "Fenrir can be big when need to be big, small when need to be fast!"
Arcturus nodded. "I pushed him to his limits. Taught him to compress and expand his mass at will. In Titan Form, he's a siege weapon. In Battle Form, he's a precision striker. Most legendary beasts can only be one or the other. Fenrir can be both."
[Fenrir has learned: Primal Shift (Rank A)]
Transform between Titan Form and Battle Form at will. Each form optimized for different combat scenarios.
[Fenrir has learned: Pack Coordination (Rank B)]
In Battle Form, synchronize perfectly with bonded master. Fight as a single unit.
"This is incredible," Kaelen said, running his hand along Fenrir's side. "Thank you, Commander."
"Don't thank me yet." Arcturus's expression turned serious. "You have one day to rest. To eat. To recover. And then..."
He gestured to Fenrir.
"At noon tomorrow, your companion will give you a wound. And you'll spend the next three months learning to fight through it."
Kaelen's brief happiness faded.
Right. Phase two.
The next day at noon, Kaelen stood shirtless in the courtyard.
Fenrir was in Battle Form, looking distinctly unhappy.
"Fenrir doesn't want to hurt Master."
"I know, boy. But we have to do this. It's part of the training." Kaelen knelt down. "One slash. Across my back. Make it deep, but not fatal."
"Fenrir will be gentle. As gentle as possible."
"Don't be too gentle. It needs to be real."
Arcturus stood to the side, watching. "When you're ready."
Kaelen took a deep breath, centering himself.
"Do it, Fenrir."
The wolf's claws glowed with blue lightning. He raised his paw—
And slashed.
The pain was instantaneous. Blinding.
Kaelen felt his back open up, felt blood pour down his spine. The wound was deep—cutting through skin, muscle, nearly to bone.
He collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, gasping.
"Good," Arcturus said clinically. "Deep enough to be debilitating. Not deep enough to kill. Perfect." He walked over and examined the wound. "Now, boy—stand up."
"What?"
"Stand. Up."
Kaelen tried. Every movement sent fresh agony through his back. But he forced himself to his feet, swaying.
"Your divine regeneration is trying to heal it," the Commander observed. "I'm suppressing that now."
He raised his hand, and Kaelen felt something change. The wound stopped trying to close. The bleeding slowed but didn't stop completely.
"For the next three months, you will train with this wound. Sparring. Running. Combat drills. Everything. It will hurt. It will bleed. It will make you want to quit." Arcturus met his eyes. "But you won't. Because you've already proven you can endure anything."
Kaelen looked down at himself. Blood was already soaking into the waistband of his pants.
Three more months.
"You can do this," Crust said quietly. "I know you can."
"I hope you're right."
The first week was agony.
Every movement pulled at the wound. Every breath sent pain radiating through his back. Sleeping was nearly impossible—lying down made it worse, but standing up all night was exhausting.
Arcturus showed no mercy.
"Mountain run. Twenty laps. Go."
Kaelen ran, blood streaming down his back with every step.
"Sword forms. One thousand repetitions. Begin."
Kaelen swung his practice blade, each movement tearing at his wound.
"Spar with me. Full intensity."
Kaelen fought, dodged, defended—and every time Arcturus landed a hit near the wound, he saw stars from the pain.
"Again."
"Again."
"Again."
By the end of the first month, Kaelen had learned to function through the pain. Not ignore it—that was impossible. But function despite it.
His mind adapted. Found ways to move that minimized the agony. Developed techniques that didn't require full back flexibility. Learned to fight with only 80% of his normal mobility and still be effective.
His Endurance stat continued to climb.
Endurance: 780 → 920 (+140)
By the end of the second month, something remarkable happened.
The pain became... normal.
Not gone. Not lesser. Just normal. Background noise. Like breathing or heartbeat—always there, but not demanding conscious attention.
Kaelen fought Arcturus in a full sparring match and actually won.
The Commander looked at him with something approaching respect.
"You've transcended it," he said simply. "The pain owns you no longer."
Endurance: 920 → 1,050 (+130)
By the end of the third month, the wound had become part of Kaelen. Scar tissue had formed around the edges, but the center remained open, a constant reminder of what he'd endured.
On the final day, Arcturus released his suppression.
Divine regeneration flooded through Kaelen's body. The wound closed in seconds, leaving only a pale scar—raised, jagged, permanent.
Kaelen reached back and touched it, feeling the ridge of tissue.
"It won't fully heal," Arcturus said. "Divine bodies scar from wounds inflicted during profound trials. That mark is yours forever. A reminder of what you've survived."
Kaelen looked at his final stats from the six months of endurance training.
[Status Update - Post Endurance Training]
Level: 18 (unchanged)
Stats:
Strength: 520 (+70 from compensatory muscle development)
Agility: 480 (+50 from adapted movement patterns)
Endurance: 1,050 (+330 total from both phases)
Intelligence: 720 (+70 from mental adaptation to pain)
Divine Power: 535 (+15 from maturation)
His Endurance was now higher than any other stat. By far.
"How do you feel?" Arcturus asked.
Kaelen thought about it. Six months ago, the idea of sitting under a waterfall for three months would have seemed impossible. The idea of fighting with an open wound would have been unthinkable.
Now?
"I feel... unbreakable."
Arcturus smiled—a real smile, warm and proud.
"Good. Because you are."
YEAR FOUR - MONTHS 7-12: ADVANCED WEAPON TECHNIQUES
With the endurance training complete, Arcturus shifted focus back to combat.
But this time, it was different.
"You've mastered basic forms," the Commander said, standing in the courtyard with a real steel blade—not wood. "Now you learn how to kill with them."
He demonstrated a sword technique—fast, precise, targeting vital points.
"Throat. Heart. Spine. Liver. These are instant kills. In real combat, you don't have time for drawn-out fights. You need to end threats quickly and efficiently."
Kaelen learned assassination techniques. How to kill silently. How to disable without killing. How to fight multiple opponents simultaneously.
"In war, you'll face armies," Arcturus explained. "One-on-one duels are rare. You need to know how to fight five, ten, twenty opponents at once."
They practiced scenarios—Arcturus creating illusory enemies that Kaelen had to defeat using tactics, positioning, and brutal efficiency.
By year's end, Kaelen could take on ten opponents at once and win.
Stats Update (Year 4 Complete, Age 9):
Strength: 640 (+120 from intensive combat)
Agility: 600 (+120 from multi-opponent fighting)
Endurance: 1,100 (+50 maintenance)
Intelligence: 800 (+80 from tactical scenarios)
Divine Power: 550 (+15 maturation)
YEAR FIVE: THE PHILOSOPHY OF COMBAT
"Why do you fight?" Arcturus asked one morning.
Kaelen, now nine years old, looked up from his meditation. "To protect people. To get stronger."
"Wrong. Those are goals. I asked why you fight." The Commander sat across from him. "A warrior who doesn't understand his purpose will lose his way. Will make mistakes. Will fail when it matters most."
That year, they studied philosophy.
The nature of power. The responsibility of strength. The burden of leadership.
"Your father understood this," Arcturus said. "Zephrion didn't rule through fear. He ruled through wisdom. Through compassion backed by overwhelming strength. He was loved because he was worthy of love."
They discussed ethics in combat. When to show mercy. When to be ruthless. How to make impossible choices.
"You'll face situations where every option is bad," the Commander said. "Where saving one person means condemning another. Where victory requires sacrifice. These decisions will haunt you. But you must make them anyway."
Kaelen learned the weight of command. The loneliness of leadership. The cost of power.
Intelligence: 800 → 1,020 (+220)
YEAR SIX: COMBAT MASTERY
By year six, Kaelen was eleven years old and truly dangerous.
Arcturus introduced him to combination techniques—flowing from one weapon to another seamlessly. Sword to spear. Spear to bare hands. Bare hands to dagger.
"A master adapts to every situation. You should be equally deadly with a blade, a staff, or your fists."
They sparred constantly. Kaelen won more often now—not because Arcturus was going easy, but because Kaelen had reached that level.
"You're not a student anymore," the Commander said after one particularly intense match. "You're a warrior. A true warrior."
Stats Update (Year 6 Complete, Age 12):
Strength: 820 (+180 from peak physical training)
Agility: 780 (+180 from combat mastery)
Endurance: 1,180 (+80 maintenance and growth)
Intelligence: 1,150 (+130 from philosophy and tactics)
Divine Power: 580 (+30 from puberty and natural maturation)
YEAR SEVEN: THE FINAL LESSONS
Kaelen was twelve now, on the cusp of adolescence. His body was changing, maturing. He was nearly as tall as Arcturus, his muscles lean and defined.
"These are your final lessons before we move into the endgame years," Arcturus said. "Leadership. Strategy on a grand scale. How to command armies. How to win wars."
They studied historical campaigns from the old kingdom. Battles Arcturus had personally fought in. Strategies that had won impossible victories.
"A general sees the battlefield as a whole. Every unit. Every position. Every advantage." The Commander moved pieces on their strategy board. "You must think three moves ahead. Anticipate your enemy. Turn their strengths into weaknesses."
Kaelen absorbed it all. Learned to think not just as a warrior, but as a commander.
By year's end, he could beat Arcturus at the strategy game more than half the time.
"Impressive," the Commander admitted. "You have a natural gift for tactics."
Intelligence: 1,150 → 1,400 (+250)
One evening, as they sat watching the sunset, Arcturus spoke quietly.
"Five years remain. In those five years, I'll teach you the deepest secrets. The techniques reserved for master warriors. The knowledge your father wanted you to have." He looked at Kaelen. "You've earned it, boy. You've more than earned it."
Kaelen looked down at his hands—scarred, calloused, strong.
"Thank you, Commander. For everything."
"Don't thank me yet. The hardest training is still ahead."
But Kaelen wasn't afraid anymore.
He'd sat under a waterfall for three months.
He'd fought with an open wound for three more.
He'd learned to endure the unendurable.
Whatever came next, he would face it.
And he would survive.
[TRAINING PROGRESS: 7 / 12 YEARS COMPLETE]
[Kaelen's Age: 12 Years Old]
[Current Stats:]
Strength: 820
Agility: 780
Endurance: 1,180
Intelligence: 1,400
Divine Power: 580
[Skills Mastered:]
Advanced Weapon Techniques (All Weapons)
Multi-Opponent Combat
Assassination Methods
Combat Philosophy
Grand Strategy
Absolute Endurance
[Fenrir's Progress:]
Dual Forms Mastered (Titan/Battle)
Pack Coordination Active
Level: 14 (slow natural growth)
[Years Remaining: 5]