Wolvin did not back down. Instead, he looked at Calian with a sudden, piercing seriousness, all traces of his playfulness vanishing.
"Listen, Partner. You saved me when I was dying. I remember your face that day. You were deathly pale, drenched in cold sweat, and you nearly collapsed after healing me." Wolvin said sharply. "That proves one thing: your [Time Loop] power consumes fuel. And that fuel is your own stamina."
Calian remained silent. He couldn't argue with the facts.
"Just because you're a Time Loop user doesn't mean you can slack off!" Wolvin continued, pointing a finger at Calian's chest. "What if you have to rewind time over a vast area? What if you have to fight for hours? If your body breaks first, your magic becomes useless. You'll die of exhaustion before an enemy even touches you."
Wolvin leaned in, his eyes burning with intensity. "You have to build your stamina and energy to become stronger! A strong body is the vessel for greater magic. That is the law of nature, Calian."
Calian leaned back against the sofa, processing the words. His ego wanted to reject the training, but his cold logic validated every word Wolvin said.
All this time, Calian's greatest limitation had indeed been his stamina. He could manipulate time, but every second of that manipulation drained his physical vitality. If he wanted to surpass his current limits to rewind an entire city or restore a whole army the body of this pampered noble son would explode or wither away before the incantation was even finished.
Stamina and energy. They were the keys he had ignored because he was too focused on magical theory.
Calian let out a long sigh and stood up slowly, smoothing out his sleepwear.
"You're right!" Calian said finally, his voice calm but filled with a new resolve. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. My vessel is too fragile for the power I possess."
Wolvin grinned widely, baring his white fangs. He tossed the journal back onto the sofa.
"That's my partner!" Wolvin said with satisfaction. "Don't worry, I won't kill you. I'll just make you wish you were dead."
"Very motivating." Calian retorted dryly.
"To the backyard!" Wolvin called out enthusiastically, already turning toward the back door. "The morning air is still fresh. We'll start with a basic run."
Calian walked toward the backyard first, passing Wolvin with a calculatedly casual stride, though internally he was already cursing this decision.
However, Calian turned around and was surprised to see Wolvin still lingering to finish his tea. "Finish your tea quickly! Aren't we supposed to be training?"
After draining the very last drop from his cup, Wolvin caught up to him with a light, springy step.
The backyard of the West Pavilion was a far cry from its luxurious interior. It was a vast area left slightly wild, surrounded by high hedges and bordering the Larvin Forest. The grass was thick and damp with morning dew; the air was fresh but bitingly cold.
Calian stood in the middle of the yard, staring blankly at the expanse of grass.
"So," Calian said, folding up his shirt sleeves. "What is the torture menu?"
Wolvin stood before him, feet shoulder-width apart, hands on his hips. He looked like a sadistic drill sergeant.
"Simple. We start by running around this yard. Ten laps. No magic. No cheating."
"Ten?" Calian measured the perimeter with his eyes. It was at least three hundred meters around. That meant three kilometers. For a knight, it was a light warm-up. For Calian, it was a death marathon. "You're joking."
"Go!" Wolvin shouted without mercy.
Calian grunted and began a slow jog.
During the first lap, Calian managed to maintain his dignity. His breathing was steady, his back straight. He felt this might not be so bad.
By the third lap, that dignity began to crumble. Sweat soaked his silk shirt. His breathing started to sound like a broken whistle. His legs felt as if they were filled with lead.
By the fifth lap, Calian felt as though his lungs were being scorched by hellfire.
"Pick up your feet, Partner! Don't drag them!" Wolvin yelled, effortlessly running backward beside him, not even breaking a sweat. "My grandmother ran faster than this while being chased by a snail!"
"Shut... up... you... damn... wolf..." Calian gasped between ragged breaths.
At the seventh lap, Calian stopped. He hunched over, clutching his knees, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible. A violent dizziness swirled in his head.
"I... quit..." he managed to say.
Suddenly, a devious idea struck him. Why should I suffer? I have the Time Loop.
Calian discreetly pointed his finger at his own trembling legs.
"Reversion."
Zing.
In an instant, the pain in his legs vanished. The lactic acid building up in his muscles disappeared. His lungs felt fresh again, as if he had just woken up. Calian straightened his back and gave a thin smile. Well, this is easy. I could run a thousand laps like this.
He started running again at full speed, darting past a surprised Wolvin.
However, Wolvin quickly realized something. He chased Calian down and grabbed the young man's shoulder, forcing him to a halt.
"You used your magic, didn't you?" Wolvin accused sharply.
"I was just... optimizing efficiency." Calian evaded, though he didn't dare meet Wolvin's eyes.
Wolvin shook his head, his face grave. "It doesn't work that way, Partner. Listen, muscles get stronger because they are damaged. When you run, your muscle fibers suffer tiny tears. When you rest, your body repairs them to be stronger and larger. It's a natural biological process."
Wolvin looked deep into Calian's violet eyes.
"If you use Reversion every time you get tired, you are returning your muscles to their original state. That means you are erasing the 'damage' process. You will never get stronger. You'll just be trapped in the same weak body forever. You are wasting your time by rewinding it."
The words hit Calian harder than the run itself. He was stunned. The logic was... absolute. His power was a double-edged sword. He could fix anything, but to grow, to evolve, he had to let time move forward. He had to endure the pain, the damage, and the exhaustion, and then allow his body to recover naturally.
The artificial immortality he had created for himself was actually a prison hindering his growth.
Calian brushed Wolvin's hand off his shoulder, but this time there was no arrogance on his face. Only a bitter understanding.
"So... I have to feel this pain?" Calian asked quietly.
"Yes!" Wolvin replied, firm yet gentle. "That pain is proof that you are becoming strong. Enjoy the ache, Partner."
Calian looked at the path ahead. His legs felt heavy again as he canceled his magic. His lungs burned once more. But this time, he didn't try to make it go away.
"Fine..." Calian growled, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "Three more laps, right? Let's finish this."
And for the first time in four years, Calian Larvin ran—not to escape reality or rewind time, but to move forward, letting every painful second forge him into something more real.
Wolvin smiled proudly behind him, then jogged to catch up. "That's the spirit, partner! After this, we're doing push-ups!"
"Don't... push... your... luck... Wolvin! You're... a total... demon!"