Chapter 41: VIVA teaching
Eren completed the hundredth push-up with a grunt, his muscles burning but his resolve unbroken. The guards who had gathered to watch his punishment had long since dispersed, leaving him alone in the training grounds as afternoon faded to evening. His athletic experience from his previous life had served him well—he’d maintained proper form throughout, refusing to let his arms buckle even as fatigue threatened to overwhelm him.
"Finished, Veilwalker?" Commander Maria had asked when he stood, sweat gleaming on his brow.
"As ordered," Eren replied, keeping his voice neutral despite the fire in his muscles.
The commander had nodded curtly before turning away. "Rest. Tomorrow will be harder."
Now, as midnight approached and the castle slept, Eren found himself drawn back to the training grounds. The arena was transformed in the darkness—the stones glowing with faint runes that cast eerie blue light across the packed earth. The moon hung full and heavy overhead, bathing everything in silver.
Eren gripped the wooden practice sword he’d taken from the rack, its weight familiar after the morning’s humiliation. He closed his eyes, recalling Mika’s movements—fluid, precise, effortless. When he attempted to replicate them, his own motions felt clumsy and forced.
"Damn it," he muttered, trying again. He stepped forward, twisted his wrist the way she had, but the strike felt wrong—too rigid, too mechanical. After an hour of frustrated attempts, sweat once again soaked his tunic despite the cool night air.
Eren tried a complex sequence Mika had executed with graceful ease—a parry flowing into a counter-strike. His foot caught on an uneven patch of ground, and he stumbled. The wooden sword flew from his grip, clattering loudly against the stone pillars.
"I won’t give up," he promised the empty arena, retrieving his weapon. "I can’t."
He was mid-strike when a voice cut through the night.
"That’s not how it’s done, Veilwalker."