When he ended talking, the boy left Larna alone with his inner demons.

  He stared down at the table, his teeth clenched. How can he say that?! He doesn't know me!

  Larna’s breathing grew sharp as he brooded over what that boy had told him.

  He was cut off by the sound that signaled the end of classes. Larna got his backpack and headed to his room.

  He turned the lights on. His blanket was hastily discarded on the floor beside his unmade bed, his desk was to the brim with cans and candy wrappers, and shoes and clothes were scattered across the entire room.

  Larna let his backpack slide from his back to the floor, then stumbled onto his bed. He lay there, looking into nothingness. He had been thinking about what that boy told him, and he was right.

  Larna rotated on the bed and looked at the ceiling. I suppose I have fear. The flame on my chest scares me. I’ve tried to drown that blaze, but it burns, it hurts. I feel my body being corroded by those flames. They won't leave.

  I can't stay the same. I knew it from the first moment I saw the Battle between Living Armor and him. I knew there wasn’t a turning point.

  Larna’s eyes welled up with tears that ran down his face. His hand clenched his chest.

  I must be loyal to this flame. It will hurt. I’m sure it will hurt like hell. But it will hurt less than now.

  Larna dragged himself to the edge of his bed and fumbled in his backpack, looking for his phone. When he got it, he searched ‘How to become a Battler’.

  He sat on the bed, his back resting against the wall as his cellphone displayed hundreds of results. Looks like I’m not the only one.

  He had seen it and experienced it on his own flesh, but had never realized how impressive Battle really was. It simulated the battlers's bodies to make fights without harm and consequences possible.

  But even if it wasn’t your own body, the simulation of it had its characteristics. Because of that, all professional battlers trained their bodies.

  The guide also suggested trying all weapons until finding the right one. Anyway, there were psychology-based tests to help battlers find their ideal weapon.

  The guide suggested other things like training with a friend and joining a Battle Clan. But Larna scrolled through these sections for obvious reasons. He didn’t have friends, and the Battle Clan thing seemed to be for more advanced Battlers.

  Larna scrolled down and checked other sites. He did that for some minutes, but shook his head when he realized he was just procrastinating. So the only thing I can do now is exercise.

  He grimaced as he stared at the cold floor, imagining himself doing planks. He fell back, resting on his bed, and wrapped himself in the comfort and warmth of his blanket. I’ll do it tomorrow.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  He kept that way until he glimpsed his pc at the other side of the bedroom. He stood up from the bed, still wrapped in his cozy blanket, and sat in front of the pc. He turned it on.

  Larna looked at the charging screen of his pc, but his gaze swept away to his reflection on it. He stared at himself until the computer showed its main screen, full of game icons, and a wallpaper of an anime warrior with a sword.

  Larna grabbed the mouse and moved it to his favorite game, the one he had spent so many hours on. He clicked it once, but lingered before tapping it twice. He sighed, with the presentment that his next action would shape his future.

  Larna stared at the cursor pointing to the game’s icon. But with a grimace, he leaned back against the back of the chair and raked his hair with both hands.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll exercise.”

  But what exercises should I do? Unwilling to search online, Larna put his hand over his lips. It was a hobby he had. He liked to reach conclusions on his own, if he could.

  His face wrinkled as the Battle with Rising Shadow was replayed in his head. At least it gave me real experience.

  He sighed. I lack everything. Still, with some essential information he had to look for, he reached a conclusion. Running with sprints and some push-ups would do the job, I guess.

  Push-ups first. Larna kneeled on his bedroom floor, closed his eyes, and exhaled. I'm ready.

  He fell on a plank. Staying in that position made Larna's arms tremble and put his muscles to burn, especially his abdomen.

  To lower his body was simple. He just had to apply enough strength not to fall face-first onto the floor.

  Larna's eyes widened as he pushed up, but his body didn't ascend. I'm stuck. After taking a deep breath, he clenched his teeth and pushed up again with his shaky hands.

  "One." He growled.

  Larna managed to do four push-ups. He was kneeling, trying to steady his breath, as sweat swept down his face.

  He dropped his back into the floor with spread arms and legs. I still have to run…

  His face furrowed. Running would surely be draining and exhausting. And, it was also a bit awkward. Running around alone, everyone was going to look at him.

  “At least I would like to run on a private running machine.”

  Larna closed his eyes. The cold floor refreshed his sore body. Getting up from there would be horrible.

  Despite that, he pushed himself up and shuffled out of his room, his hands hanging limply at his sides.

  Larna grimaced at the slightest move. This is horrible. Because of that, he couldn't understand why he was smiling.

  He rubbed his curled-up mouth and felt his strength recovered. Driven by some strange force, his steps grew steadier and faster despite the pain. This feels good.

  Larna dashed towards the entrance of his house. I've decided it…

  Larna opened the door. Behind it was his sister, who tilted his head and narrowed. “What're you doing?”

  Larna passed by her. "I'll go running."

  Lia's eyes widened, and his mouth opened. "Huh?"

  Larna trotted beside her. His eyes shone with intensity as he smiled. I’ll be a Battler! I'll be strong! He could see it, the bright future that awaited him.

  Wait. I'm still wearing the uniform?!