The Ashen Dominion
Chapter 89 - Silver Training Ground [2]

Chapter 89: 89 - Silver Training Ground [2]

Kaiser trained by swinging the heavy greatsword again and again.

Thud—

WHOOSH—

THUD!

Each of his swings sent a dull noise through the straw dummy, the force behind every hit enough to rattle the wooden post it was mounted on.

The blade he was using wasn’t his own— it was heavier, much heavier. He chose it for a reason. In his mind, if he trained with something heavier than what he normally used, his real weapon would feel light in comparison, easier to handle, faster, more fluid.

Simple logic.

TWHACK!

Shff—

He slashed horizontally, then stepped in and followed up with a vertical strike, trying to maintain the flow of movement. Sweat rolled down his face and dripped from his chin, but Kaiser ignored it.

His muscles ached. His shoulders burned. His hands were starting to blister from the constant friction— but again, he ignored it.

Kaiser had trained like this before. He was used to the pain.

What he wasn’t used to anymore... was the feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.

His thoughts drifted between his swings.

"..."

Kaiser remembered his first few weeks in the coliseum— how alert he used to be, how his blood pumped with excitement and his nerves were on edge before every match. He remembered the rage, the tension, the desperation to survive.

But now?

SWOOSH—

THUD!

He exhaled, looking at the dummy in front of him.

It was still standing, barely. Its straw body was nearly torn apart, wood creaking from repeated impacts.

Kaiser gripped the sword tighter.

’I’m getting bored here.’

The thought entered his mind like an annoying whisper, and he couldn’t ignore it.

The coliseum, once a place of chaos and uncertainty, now felt... predictable. Even with stronger opponents and better food, even with his rank up and growing reputation— none of it felt exciting anymore. There was no fear, no thrill. It was starting to feel like a job. Like routine.

Just like before.

Just like back then.

Kaiser gritted his teeth.

"This sucks."

He muttered to himself under his breath, his voice barely audible over the hum of the training ground.

But even so... He didn’t stop.

He kept moving.

He kept swinging.

S W O O S H—!!

Because he knew something— something he reminded himself of every single day:

He can’t afford to rest.

Not yet.

Not until he could stand above everyone else.

Not until he could create something of his own.

Not until he changed everything.

And so—

Thud—

W H O O S H—

THUD!

The sound of training continued echoing across the Silver Training Ground.

...

...

Drip- Drip- Drip—

Sweat dripped down Kaiser’s body, soaking through his dirty-white shirt.

"Fuuuuuu... haaaaaa... haaaa..."

His breathing was heavy and uneven, his hands sore and trembling from the constant strain. But despite all that— he didn’t stop. He didn’t let himself lose focus.

His mind drifted back to his fight with Edmar.

The way the man moved— his stance, the timing of his strikes, his precision. Kaiser recalled every detail, every close call. He could still feel the dull ache in his ribs, the leftover sting of bruises that hadn’t completely faded.

"Grrgh...!"

Kaiser gritted his teeth.

’I would’ve lost that fight if it weren’t for one thing— raw power. And maybe a bit of luck.’

He declared in his head.

Edmar was faster, more refined than him. But Kaiser had overpowered him, pushing past technique with brute force when it mattered most.

Still, that wouldn’t work forever.

"I have enough strength for now..."

He muttered to himself under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the straw dummy in front of him.

"But strength alone won’t win me every fight."

He gripped the hilt of the greatsword tighter, adjusting his footing.

"My technique and control... they’re still trash."

And with that, he resumed swinging.

FWOOSH—

BAM!

SWISH—

THUD!

Again and again, for hours more. Each motion was deliberate and measured. Not just wild, heavy blows, but an attempt to control the force, to guide the blade instead of simply throwing it.

At times, the sword dragged down too much, pulling Kaiser off balance. Other times, the swing was too wide, too slow, too stiff. But every mistake— he noticed. Then he would work on to correct them.

...

Kaiser endured his training...

By the time the sun began to peak higher in the sky; his arms were burning, his shoulder blades sore, and his hands were numb. But the dummy in front of him?

It was nothing but a destroyed pile of straw and broken wood.

"Hopefully, I improved even a little bit."

Kaiser mumbled, walking over to grab a nearby towel and wipe his face.

No shortcuts. No resting.

If he wanted to survive—

Then he had to earn every step.

...

...

*****

After he finished training with the greatsword, Kaiser let it go, and the heavy lump of iron slammed onto the ground with a loud—

THUD!

He didn’t even flinch at the sound. Kaiser just sat down right there on the floor, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A deep frown etched across his face.

"Fuuuuck... Fuuuuuuuh~"

The callouses on his palms throbbed— torn slightly, raw from gripping the rough hilt too tightly for too long. But he didn’t care.

Thi wasn’t new for him. Pain didn’t matter. He didn’t even bother checking the damage to his hands.

Kaiser just sat there, eyes on the floor, waiting until the burning in his lungs faded and the tremble in his arms dulled.

Then, a few minutes passed...

And slowly— Kaiser stood up.

His knees cracked a bit as he straightened, but he ignored that too. He rolled his shoulders, popped his neck, and without saying a word...

Tap- tap- tap—

He walked away from the weapon training area.

His legs were still heavy, his body sore all over.

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Kaiser headed toward the weight area— where racks of iron bars, dumbbells, and resistance tools were lined up!

Compared to the Copper Place, this part of the training ground was a dream. Real equipment. Real weights. No wooden imitations.

This was where real fighters trained!

And for Kaiser... Maybe this was a beginner of something bigger here in the coliseum.

...

...

*****

Kaiser and Viktor trained for hours.

Kaiser focused on pushing his body to the limit. After his weapon drills, he started with weighted squats— loading two sacks of sand on each shoulder while clutching a bar across his back. The strain made his legs shake, but he didn’t stop.

After that, he dropped to the ground and began push-ups, his back slick with sweat. And to make it harder, he placed a small iron plate on his back to simulate armor weight.

Then came sit-ups, dozens at a time, feet hooked under a training bench while clutching a weight to his chest.

And once he finished there, he moved on to body conditioning.

With each repetition of his movements— swinging weighted sticks against his torso and legs... He hardened himself.

Kaiser was trying to raise his strength and durability.

Each controlled hit trained his pain tolerance and durability. This was how Kaiser built his resilience before. It wasn’t pretty— but it worked for him.

Meanwhile, not far from him...

Viktor was on his own warpath.

He was using a big-ass dumbbell, he focused on explosive curls, overhead presses, and shadow fighting drills with small iron weights strapped to his forearms.

His entire routine was intense and unrelenting.

"Gurgh...!"

He gritted his teeth through every set, his expression showing nothing but pure focus.

The two of them rarely spoke, only resting between sets for a few seconds— just enough to catch a breath before moving again. Watching them train was already exhausting in itself.

Their muscles strained. Their backs drenched in sweat. Their faces were locked in grim determination.

And finally—

"Lunch!"

A guard called out, his voice cutting through the steady rhythm of grunts and metal clinks.

Behind him, several servants arrived, pushing carts filled with food.

"Hmm?"

"Oh?"

Kaiser and Viktor immediately stopped. It was like a switch had been flipped. Their bodies ached all over— arms numb, legs heavy. But the moment they heard that word, everything else was forgotten.

Their training paused.

Their stomachs growled.

And without needing to say a word— they walked toward the food.

...

...

...

Kaiser and Viktor sat on the bench, their trays piled with food, steam rising gently in the cool midday air.

"..."

".. "

Neither of them spoke, too drained from the morning’s intense training.

NOM— NOM— NOM—!

NOM— NOM— NOM—!

They ate like beasts, devouring every bite with heavy breaths between each mouthful.

Their arms were sore, their hands shaking slightly from the weightlifting and sword drills.

Viktor let out a quiet chuckle.

"We’re gonna be sore tomorrow."

Kaiser smirked, not even looking up.

"Worth it."

They didn’t need a long conversation. Just sitting there, side by side, sharing food and silence. It was enough.

A small, quiet peace...

Though, they both know that they will fight later in a sparring match again as usual.

"Just let me rest a bit more."

Viktor said.

"Sure... I need it too."

Then Kaiser replied.