Chapter 48

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“THE EMPRESS has been abducted!”

The urgent shout reached my ears just as I was about to push open the chamber doors. My hand froze mid-air. Huh. The Empress? Really? I tilted my head in mild curiosity, then let out a soft scoff.

Not my problem.

I was supposed to be training outside the palace today, but it seemed fate had other plans for me. I let out a small sigh, stepping back from the door. Again. Instead of the crisp air and open fields, I’d be pacing in this oversized room once more.

It had been two days since the Crown Prince last visited. Not that I wanted his presence—far from it. The thought of him and his self-righteous airs was enough to irritate me.

Stepping out onto the balcony, I leaned against the cool marble railing, resting my chin on the back of my hand. From this vantage point, the chaos below was on full display. Servants scurried about like headless chickens, while knights clanged and shouted orders at one another. The Palace grounds were a frenzy of activity, their futile efforts almost laughable.

“What in the world are they doing?” I muttered under my breath, my lips curling into a smirk. “Running around like that isn’t going to find her.”

I rolled my eyes, the absurdity of their actions grating on my nerves. They were acting like blind mice chasing after shadows. Pathetic.

Still, a fleeting thought crossed my mind. She’s strong, isn’t she? She’ll be fine. The Empress wasn’t the sort to crumble under pressure—or capture, for that matter. If she couldn’t handle herself, then maybe she wasn’t as formidable as everyone claimed.

Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside. I had more pressing matters to deal with, and meddling in their problems was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Time was not on my side.

With a resolute breath, I turned back into the room and approached the wide table that was now my makeshift workspace. Glass vials glinted under the light, their vibrant contents a testament to my improving alchemical skills. The system had yet to issue the third training phase, so I had been practicing on my own.

“Not bad,” I muttered, eyeing the neatly arranged elixirs.

Each one shimmered with a distinct hue, their purposes etched in my memory: healing concoctions for quick recovery, defensive potions for shielding against physical and magical attacks, and offensive brews capable of inflicting serious damage. My fingers brushed over the vials, a sense of satisfaction blooming in my chest.

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Trial of Endurance

Complete the following tasks within the confines of your room:

- Perform a set of high-knee sprints in place for three minutes. - Execute five sets of alternating lunges followed by a controlled backward roll. - Finish with a full-body stretch routine, holding each position for at least 20 seconds to test balance and flexibility.

Repeat the entire sequence after the time limit goes to zero.

Reward: Aether Pouch — A small bag that can store any number of items. To retrieve something, simply visualize it and reach into the bag—it will appear in your hand. Failure: Lose your strength for 3 days.

Decide your course with great caution!

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I stared at the system’s holograph, its glowing text hovering midair like a smug challenge. My eyebrow twitched. What kind of training is this?

High-knee sprints? Lunges and rolls? Were they kidding me? While this room was spacious enough to accommodate the tasks, the idea of flailing around and potentially crashing into my desk or knocking over a chair made me groan in frustration.

Still, the reward had my attention. The Aether Pouch sounded far too useful to pass up, especially for someone stuck in this system-controlled world. I couldn’t afford to lose strength for three days either.

I rolled my shoulders and sighed, already regretting my decision. “Fine,” I muttered, cracking my neck, “let’s do this. But if I end up bruising my shins on the furniture, I’m blaming you, system.”

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The training will now commence. Remaining time: 5:00:00. Good luck!

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“Five hours?!” I blurted, nearly choking on the words. Before I could curse the system further, a faint chime signaled the timer’s start.

I launched into the first task, high-knee sprints, my legs pumping furiously as my knees shot up toward my waist. The rhythmic slap of my feet against the wooden floor echoed through the room.

At first, it didn’t seem so bad—simple, even. But by the one-minute mark, my lungs were already burning, and my thighs felt like they were made of lead.

“Three minutes of this?!” I panted, sweat dripping down my temples. The timer in the corner of the holograph ticked mockingly slow, each second dragging on like an eternity.

The moment the timer beeped to signal the end, I collapsed onto the floor, gulping air like I’d been drowning. But there was no time to rest—five hours meant I had to keep moving.

“Alright, lunges and rolls,” I muttered, pushing myself upright despite my trembling legs.

I stepped into a lunge, feeling the strain immediately. My legs protested with every movement, and transitioning into a backward roll was an awkward, wobbly mess. By the third set, my balance faltered, and I nearly toppled sideways.

“This is ridiculous,” I grumbled, wiping sweat from my brow. My hair stuck to my face, and every muscle screamed in rebellion. The system’s glowing timer hovered smugly in my peripheral vision, reminding me of how much time I had left.

By the time I finished the lunges and rolls, I collapsed again, sprawled out on the floor. But the thought of failing and losing strength for three days kept me from staying down for long.

“Just the stretches left,” I muttered, dragging myself into position.

I extended my arms and folded my body forward, feeling every inch of tightness in my muscles. The stretch burned, but I forced myself to hold each position, counting the seconds through gritted teeth.

When I finally finished, I lay flat on the floor, completely drained. My chest heaved as I stared at the ceiling, the system’s timer ticking down from four hours.

“This is going to kill me,” I groaned, dreading the next round.

Time blurred into an endless cycle of aching muscles and shallow breaths. The timer hanging in the corner of the holograph ticked down with painful slowness, each second feeling like an eternity.

The second round of high-knee sprints was somehow worse than the first. My legs, already trembling from exhaustion, barely obeyed me. Every lift felt like hauling bricks strapped to my knees, and sweat dripped from my chin in steady streams.

“Why… is this… so long?” I gasped between heaving breaths.

By the time the three-minute timer for the sprints beeped, I practically collapsed into a lunge. My legs wobbled as I stepped forward, and the transition into a backward roll wasn’t even close to graceful. I toppled sideways, smacking my arm against the floor.

“Damn it!” I hissed, clutching my elbow.

The holograph’s glowing text remained unmoving, indifferent to my pain. I gritted my teeth and stood up, forcing myself into the next lunge.

By the end of the second hour, my hair was plastered to my face, and my clothes clung uncomfortably to my drenched skin. Every stretch felt like pulling a boulder across a field, and my vision blurred as I fought the urge to just collapse on the spot.

“Three hours left,” I muttered, barely able to form the words.

The system, of course, didn’t care. It simply announced the start of the next cycle with its cheery chime, as if mocking my suffering.

By the fourth hour, my body felt like it no longer belonged to me. My knees wobbled dangerously with every sprint, my arms swung sluggishly at my sides, and I was sure my muscles were moments away from giving up entirely.

I stumbled halfway through a set of lunges, falling to my hands and knees. My breath rasped loudly in the otherwise silent room.

“Get… up,” I growled to myself, forcing my shaking arms to push me upright. “You can’t fail. You won’t fail.”

The promise of the Aether Pouch floated in the back of my mind. Something so simple yet so powerful—it was worth this. It had to be worth this.

My mind slipped into a dazed rhythm as the timer dragged on. Sprint, lunge, roll, stretch. Sprint, lunge, roll, stretch. The sequence blurred together until I wasn’t sure how many sets I’d done. All I could focus on was the clock slowly counting down.

As the final hour began, I had to bite back tears of frustration and exhaustion. My arms and legs moved as though underwater, heavy and uncooperative. Every stretch felt like my muscles were being torn apart, but I forced myself to hold the positions.

“Almost… done,” I whispered, though it was more to keep myself from collapsing than to offer encouragement.

The last round of high-knee sprints was agony. My feet barely lifted from the floor, and every impact sent jolts of pain up my legs. But when the holograph finally announced the final task’s completion, a sob of relief escaped my throat.

I collapsed onto the floor, sprawled out in a pool of my own sweat. My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath, every muscle trembling uncontrollably.

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Congratulations! You have successfully completed the task Trial of Endurance! Rewards will be given shortly!

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The system’s glowing text appeared above me, accompanied by a faint chime. A small, elegant pouch materialized on the floor beside me, its size deceptively modest.

I groaned and reached for it weakly, my fingers brushing against the smooth fabric. “You better… be worth it,” I muttered, clutching the pouch to my chest before my head fell back onto the floor.

The glowing holograph flickered out, leaving the room in silence. The small Aether Pouch rested in my hand, its smooth fabric somehow comforting against my clammy skin. I stared at it for a moment, barely able to keep my eyes open.

But even this little victory couldn’t keep my body from screaming for rest. My limbs felt like jelly, my muscles burning with every small movement. Dragging myself upright was a battle in itself, but the bed across the room beckoned like a lifeline.

I shuffled toward it, barely managing to toss the pouch onto the bedside table. My legs gave out the moment I reached the edge of the mattress, and I flopped onto it face-first, burying myself into the soft sheets.

For a second, I thought about peeling off my sweat-soaked clothes, but the thought of moving even one more inch was unbearable.

“Stupid system,” I mumbled into the pillow, my voice muffled and slurred. “Five hours… never again...”

Sleep claimed me before I could finish the thought, pulling me into its merciful embrace.

fin.