As a resident of a world where technological feats prevailed, the rigors of physical exertion were foreign to me. In that realm, survival didn't depend on physical strength but on skillful manipulation of keystrokes and algorithms. However, my stay in a realm where power dictated destiny left me no choice but to accept the harsh reality before me.

For two endless months, I found myself trapped in a daily routine that offered little respite from the relentless onslaught of physical exertion. Every dawn heralded the beginning of an exhausting regimen: a symphony of sweat and effort choreographed by the indomitable Sir Miguel. Under his watchful gaze, he led me along a torturous path of endurance and strength.

The initial onslaught left me breathless, my muscles screaming in protest as I stumbled through the movements. It felt as if every fiber of my being had been subjected to crushing weight, leaving me battered and bruised in its wake. However, with each passing day, I felt the inexorable tide of transformation coursing through my veins, sculpting my physique.

Despite the physical toll I endured, the sweat-soaked fabric of my training attire bore witness to the countless hours I spent on the training field during those days. I felt a bit better now, not as exhausted as before.

However, amidst the crucible of physical exertion, a more subtle battle raged deep within my consciousness. The allure of my newfound physique, coupled with the tempestuous agony of adolescence, threatened to undermine me at every turn. The siren song of base desires called to me, cursed teenage hormones, this hadn't happened to me in years and now I feel it again, it's very uncomfortable.

Yet, in the realm of familial relationships, progress remained elusive. Despite my concerted efforts to bridge the chasm that separated us, my sister remained an inscrutable enigma, and her disdainful indifference, my parents looked at me from time to time, but said nothing, I could feel their gaze slowly changing, it was slow progress but I could trust it, I don't like to rush things.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I found myself becoming intimately familiar with the routine of my training, I could keep up a great pace and I already felt the physical changes in my body.

With each passing day, I found myself closer to reaching the second part of my training, I awaited it eagerly, all of this was new to me and experiencing it firsthand was very comforting.

As I went through my exercises, I occasionally watched the soldiers going through their routines as well. They formed a large group and together they began to run around the area, spending hours and hours at it until midday. After that, they engaged in small physical skirmishes before moving on to swordplay. Finally, they ended their day in the evening.