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MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 375: Strength Training · Oct 09, 2026

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Chapter List (1366)

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351 Chapter 351: The Richest 2026-10-09
352 Chapter 352: Show-off 2026-10-09
353 Chapter 353: Come forth 2026-10-09
354 Chapter 354: Losses 2026-10-09
355 Chapter 355 355: GIRLFRIEND 2026-10-09
356 Chapter 356 356: GIRLFRIEND-2 2026-10-09
357 Chapter 357 357: Stand 2026-10-09
358 Chapter 358: Lieutenant Darren 2026-10-09
359 Chapter 359: Colonel Vazeryth 2026-10-09
360 Chapter 360: Cafeteria 2026-10-09
361 Chapter 361: Any Questions? 2026-10-09
362 Chapter 362: Rampage 2026-10-09
363 Chapter 363: Constantly [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
364 Chapter 364: Cursed 2026-10-09
365 Chapter 365: Twenty fifth minute 2026-10-09
366 Chapter 366: A first [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
367 Chapter 367: First trial Ends [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
368 Chapter 368: Adaptive Combat Slime 2026-10-09
369 Chapter 369: Equal 2026-10-09
370 Chapter 370: Battle Experience [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
371 Chapter 371: Above All [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
372 Chapter 372: Delusion 2026-10-09
373 Chapter 373: Official rank 2026-10-09
374 Chapter 374: Training officer 2026-10-09
375 Chapter 375: Strength Training 2026-10-09
376 Chapter 376: Reflex 2026-10-09
377 Chapter 377: Pickaxe 2026-10-09
378 Chapter 378: No code 2026-10-09
379 Chapter 379: Bond [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
380 Chapter 380: Arrows [Ko-Fi Bonus Chapter] 2026-10-09
381 Chapter 381: Hammer 2026-10-09
382 Chapter 382: Special 2026-10-09
383 Chapter 383 383: Will Training-1 2026-10-09
384 Chapter 384 384: Will Training-2 2026-10-09
385 Chapter 385: Advice 2026-10-09
386 Chapter 386: Battle Royale 2026-10-09
387 Chapter 387 387: Aura Farming 2026-10-09
388 Chapter 388 388: Vector 2026-10-09
389 Chapter 389: Only forward 2026-10-09
390 Chapter 390: Wreckage 2026-10-09
391 Chapter 391: Baptism 2026-10-09
392 Chapter 392: Private Rank 2026-10-09
393 Chapter 393: Grand Marshal Alaric 2026-10-09
394 Chapter 394: Boredom 2026-10-09
395 Chapter 395 395: Lieutenant Anthony 2026-10-09
396 Chapter 396 396: The Soulpen Sovereign 2026-10-09
397 Chapter 397 397: The Soulpen Sovereign-2 2026-10-09
398 Chapter 398: Military Rank 2026-10-09
399 Chapter 399: Different Darren 2026-10-09
400 Chapter 400: Kingsley Sky [Daplug] 2026-10-09

Chapter 375: Strength Training

”Now, we begin the most basic of training”

Corporal Samuelʼs voice was sharp, the words cutting through the air like a blade.

”Strength training”

Without another word, he reached into his pack and pulled out a military-grade training vest, tossing one to each recruit with practiced precision.

”Put it on”

He commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Instinctively, the recruits obeyed, each of them quickly donning the heavy, cumbersome vest.

As soon as the fabric touched their skin, the familiar force that had sealed their mana during the trials surged once more, flowing through their bodies like an invisible chain.

The once thrumming pulses of their mana came to an abrupt halt.

It was as if their very essence was locked away, a cage within their veins.

Their physical strength, once their greatest asset, began to fade, leaving them feeling sluggish, weaker, and less capable with every passing second.

But it was the weight of the vests that struck them the hardest.

Each one of them felt the oppressive pressure bearing down on their shoulders, their backs, their chests.

The heavy vest clung to them like an anchor, its mass a constant reminder of their limitations.

The air seemed to grow heavier, each recruit feeling the weight of their own bodies more acutely than ever before.

Corporal Samuelʼs voice cut through the silence again, unwavering and cold.

”See that mountain over there?”

His gaze, sharp, swept over the recruits.

”At my signal, you will begin climbing. Do not stop. Do not slow down. You will not rest until the time is up”

The command hung in the air like a tangible force.

The recruits, still adjusting to the weight of the vests, turned their gazes toward the mountain in the distance.

The mountain stood like a jagged colossus, a sentinel carved by time itself.

Its vertical face loomed impossibly high, a wall of unmoving stone streaked with veins of ice and shadow, mocking the hundred souls gathered beneath it.

Ninety nine recruits.

No ropes.

No harnesses.

No tools.

Only flesh, bone, and willpower, the essence of strength distilled.

A sharp whistle signaled the beginning.

Without a word, the recruits surged forward like insects drawn to ruin.

The first impact of their fingers against cold rock sent shockwaves through their bones.

The cliff face was cruel, its surface unforgiving, its holds irregular and deceptive.

Every grip was a gamble.

Every ledge, a lie.

Their bare hands blistered within moments.

Jagged stone sliced through palms, drawing blood with indifferent ease.

Fingertips screamed with each pull, but there was no room for hesitation.

Feet scrambled for purchase, toes gripping minuscule cracks and slivers of ledge, sometimes failing, sometimes finding fragile salvation.

They climbed not in graceful rhythm but in desperate, primal bursts, raw, instinctive, hungry.

The air grew thinner with every meter.

Breaths came in ragged shudders, not from fear, that had been burned away by pain, but from exhaustion.

Muscles roared in protest.

Shoulders quaked.

Biceps screamed.

Back and core strained beneath the burden of suspended flesh, limbs trembling under the weight of every decision made on stone.

The mountain did not allow rest.

There were no flat surfaces.

Only the sheer wall and the wind, a howling force that slapped them with cold fingers and tried to pry them free.

Those who faltered were met with the pitiless consequence of gravity.

A slip, a scream, and silence.

Some fell a few meters, others plummeted the length of a tree, their bodies striking the rock in sickening echoes before being retrieved or left behind as warnings.

And yet they climbed.

Pain became rhythm. Blood became warmth. Suffering became momentum.

The mountain stripped them of identity, there were no noble bloodlines here, no mage prodigies, no famed swordsmen.

Only bodies, tested to their core.

Flesh tearing.

Muscles shredding.

Souls weathering.

The higher they climbed, the less they spoke.

There was no breath to spare for words.

The climb demanded complete devotion, a meditative trance born of agony.

The only sounds were labored breathing, the scrape of skin on stone, the occasional grunt of exertion… and the wind, ever roaring, ever watching.

Time melted.

Minutes bled into hours.

The sun marched across the sky like a dispassionate overseer, casting long shadows that danced along the cliff face.

Sweat poured down their bodies, mixing with blood, smearing onto the mountain in streaks of crimson and salt.

Some recruits began to hallucinate, seeing handholds that werenʼt there, imagining voices whispering promises of rest.

Still, they climbed.

When fingers could no longer grip, they used wrists.

When wrists failed, they bit their lips and pressed on with elbows and chests, clawing upward like beasts ascending out of hell.

Tears welled, not from weakness, but from rage, a silent, burning fury that they had been reduced to crawling fragments, that their strength had been found so pitifully lacking.

They despised the mountain.

And yet, paradoxically, it became their measure.

Their crucible.

Their enemy.

Their mirror.

Every inch conquered whispered a silent truth, ʼyou are not the same as you were belowʼ

With each meter scaled, something intangible bloomed within them, not pride, but defiance.

The refusal to be broken.

The summit was not visible.

The cliff face stretched on into mist, disappearing like a cruel illusion.

But some refused to look up. Looking up was despair.

The only direction that mattered was forward.

One grip.

One pull.

One breath.

One more.

As dusk began to drape the world in purples and blues, fewer than sixty recruits remained in motion.

The rest were slumped on narrow ledges, passed out or trembling in defeat.

Their hands dangled limp.

Their eyes stared at the stone in silence. Some had broken fingers.

Others had joints swollen to twice their size.

None had made it halfway.

But still, a stubborn few, those whose minds had snapped into something darker, deeper, pressed on.

Their muscles had long since failed.

It was no longer muscle that moved them, it was resolve wearing the mask of madness.

An untamed force that bypassed pain, that ignored logic, that scoffed at self preservation.

This wasnʼt physical anymore. It was spiritual.

Higher still.

One recruit, a wiry youth with bloodied forearms and a cracked jaw, let out a guttural roar as he hauled himself up a sharp ridge.

The scream wasnʼt of pain.

It was warcry.

He had climbed into a place where pain no longer registered, where exhaustion was a distant echo.

His eyes were unfocused, but burning.

Another, a girl with torn nails and a dislocated shoulder, used her teeth to anchor her cloth sash to a jagged outcrop while she repositioned her legs.

Her face was soaked in sweat and blood, but her movements were precise, surgical, unshaken.

Her ascent was not fast, it was inevitable.

The mountain began to respect them.

The wind, once hostile, seemed to pause in reverence.

The stone, once cruel, offered tiny holds not previously seen, perhaps not because they werenʼt there, but because the climbers had evolved enough to notice them.

A lesson, quiet but profound: ʼThe world bends only to those who refuse to breakʼ

By nightfall, the final stage of the climb began.

The stone grew colder. Slicker.

The wind turned icy, threatening to freeze fingers to the very surface they gripped.

But those who remained, fewer than twenty, showed no hesitation.

Their bodies were past shivering.

Their minds no longer registered chill.

They had entered the realm where the flesh was irrelevant, and only spirit endured.

One by one, in silence, the final few crested a ridge near the mountainʼs shoulder, not the peak, but a sacred plateau where the air was thinner and the stars seemed close enough to touch.

They collapsed, not from defeat, but from triumph.

Their hands were ruined, torn and shredded like old leather.

Their backs were bent, their eyes bloodshot, their lungs wheezing.

And yet… their hearts were iron.

Their will was steel.

In the silence of the summit, under the cold gaze of the stars, they lay motionless, not because they couldnʼt move, but because they didnʼt need to.

They had conquered something greater than a mountain.

They had conquered themselves although barely.

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