The revelation about the power system prompted Theo to synthesize information rapidly: "So you're saying anyone who 'consumes mana' becomes a 'Warrior'? Does that mean everyone on our team is a Warrior?"

  Rowan didn't answer immediately. She stood straight, arms crossed confidently over her chest. The deep purple sarong clung to her frame, accentuating her figure, while the puffed sleeves at her shoulders added an air of strength. Her brilliant auburn hair was pulled into a loose bun at the back, with a few soft curls framing her oval face. Her deep green eyes behind amber-tinted glasses gleamed with intelligence and determination, the corners of her mouth lifting into an enigmatic smile.

  She emphasized: "Note that only six people are Warriors. The remaining two are a craftsman and a mage—that would be Rowan Trimeri." Her voice maintained its scholarly tone but carried unmistakable pride.

  Theo registered her mention of 'six people,' which meant he and Liam weren't Warriors. But there were all six (Sable, Boris, Torvin, Ryel, Ronan, Vesper), not five (if subtracting Theo, Liam, Finn, Rowan). This implied that 'consuming mana' to become a Warrior involved a systematic learning and training process rather than innate talent, rather than innate talent.

  Theo looked directly at Rowan and asked: "So how does one become a Warrior? How can Liam and I achieve that?"

  Rowan smiled faintly, then shook her head: "Not yet, don't rush, Theo." After a brief pause, she continued: "Let your body develop completely. Reach your physical peak at eighteen, including mana absorption. It will provide a solid foundation for your path to becoming a Warrior later."

  Theo nodded. If it was about building a solid foundation before turning eighteen, that was entirely convincing. He understood that haste would only lead to mistakes later.

  He glanced at Liam, whose eyes still seemed to be spinning, not yet recovered from the dense theories about mana and Warriors. Theo smiled slightly. The road for them to truly catch up with this world was still very long indeed.

  But suddenly, a question flashed through his mind. Theo couldn't help but ask: "Everyone is clearly very strong, so why did you fall for my trap during the third transaction?"

  The moment Theo's final word left his lips, everything seemed to sink into silence. Theo even saw Rowan stiffen slightly, Boris slap his face and turn away, Torvin trying to appear focused on starting the fire. Finn, who had been maintaining weapons, froze momentarily—Theo noticed his face darken slightly. Even Sable, sitting innocuously beside Rowan, suddenly flashed with killing intent in her eyes.

  After a moment, Rowan calmly explained: "That day was a wager. Ves set the terms: no use of mana. If the five of us could catch you and Liam, we'd win and obtain a secret about Ves."

  She sighed, her voice carrying a hint of dissatisfaction: "Without mana, that meant they couldn't deploy their maximum combat strength—their bodies lacked the supplemental mana energy source necessary for efficient operation. And of course, we couldn't use magic either."

  Rowan crossed her arms, adding: "Most importantly, Ronan didn't participate. He had no interest in bullying two kids."

  Then, chin resting on her right hand, Rowan returned to her usual mischievous expression: "And then you know the rest—Finn fell into your trap, Boris and Torvin came running to mock him and got handled by your trap magic. I was on the other side of the forest conducting mental reconnaissance, and Sable got taken down by Liam." She spread both hands with a weary tone: "That's the process."

  Liam emerged from his earlier daze, asking curiously: "So what happens if you lose?"

  Rowan, Boris, Torvin, Finn, and Sable simultaneously directed murderous gazes at Liam, enunciating each word: "Do you want to find out?"

  Liam laughed nervously: "Of course not, definitely not!"

  The academic atmosphere that had just settled was replaced by the threat of collective violence, was interrupted by a hoarse voice carrying distinct weariness:

  "Captain, shift change."

  Ryel's lazy demeanor was no longer concealed. After nearly half a month living together with the recruits, the half-elf's mask of aloofness and mystery had been removed. He walked slowly, as if maintaining gravity itself was a burden, revealing his casual nature—utterly unprofessional in appearance.

  Vesper nodded and stood, assigning: "Tonight, Liam and I will take the first watch. Next will be Ronan and Torvin, finally Sable and Boris."

  The gathering quickly concluded, leaving only the sound of tools scraping against weapons. Finn remained focused on his work—it would be a long night for him.

  Theo sighed. He also had to begin his own work: today's broken arrows needed to be reforged. "An archer should only trust arrows they've made themselves"—the old hunter's words still rang in his ears, and he always believed in that. He carefully separated the still-sharp arrowheads from the broken wooden shafts, grinding and adjusting them under the dying campfire light.

  Amid the soft sound of metal grinding, G's electronic voice suddenly rang out, carrying a clearly congratulatory tone that broke the silence:

  "Theo, today you earned 163 ACP from 31 Goblins—3 ACP per standard unit and 10 ACP per wolf-rider. Your current total is 188 ACP. Congratulations!"

  Theo's hand holding the tool froze in surprise. He challenged:

  "G, why are you only mentioning this now?"

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  G's voice carried a hint of grievance, like a friend wrongly blamed:

  "From the battle until now, you haven't given me a single free minute."

  Theo acknowledged the truth. Indeed, the entire day had been too intense. He sighed wearily:

  "Fine. Leave it for now. I'll think about what to exchange for later."

  The final hours passed quietly and busily, with only the crackling of fire on wood, the sound of grinding, tools clashing, and Ryel's soft eating.

  Morning arrived with exhaustion. Fortunately, with G's help last night, Theo saved considerable time—at least now the arrowheads he needed were replenished without pulling an all-nighter.

  Today marked the beginning of the third training cycle in the twenty-day rotation. He had to continuously aim precisely and shoot—exercises designed to upgrade Theo's concentration and pressure tolerance.

  With G's 3D projection capability, this was tremendous assistance for this exercise, allowing Theo to avoid using physical arrows. Additionally, with the device Ryel had provided, after minor adjustments, he had an exercise any archer would covet: a realistic 3D combat simulation down to each arrow.

  Under the early morning sunlight, Theo closed his eyes. The quiet forest around him vanished, replaced by an illusory battlefield teeming with moving targets.

  Theo took a deep breath, his breathing synchronized with each muscle group. He kept his mind empty, leaving only pure stillness.

  Sharp eyes opened with absolute focus. The surroundings were no longer peaceful—goblin illusions now filled his entire field of vision.

  Day thirteen's exercise began.

  This was truly the most pressure-intensive exercise among the recent training, extremely taxing mentally, but it excellently trained stress resistance. Theo regretted not being able to share it with Liam, because although very tiring, this was also the most interesting exercise.

  G continuously increased the difficulty. The goblin illusions grew smarter each day. They didn't just charge mindlessly but knew how to hide, ambush, and find ways to break through his defense line. Theo's training now resembled playing a familiar small game—a first-person tactical shooter requiring reaction speed and calculations precise to the millisecond.

  The initial enjoyment quickly evaporated. Physical and mental pressure became so real it pressed down on his chest, making Theo almost unable to breathe.

  The exhaustion from continuously drawing the bow, combined with the hammer-like headache from constant focus and calculation, tore at him. This exercise wasn't simple physical erosion like the previous two; it was a monster devouring both his body and mind simultaneously.

  Theo suspected G was deliberately increasing the difficulty to retaliate for being "wrongly blamed" yesterday. He could only grit his teeth and endure, fighting both the goblin illusions and the exhaustion trying to drag him into collapse.

  Everyone around looked at him strangely.

  That made sense. Theo would sometimes run while drawing his bow, other times turn his back while drawing, occasionally roll on the ground as if dodging something—while nothing and no one surrounded him. His entire demeanor created the impression of a madman having an episode.

  This bizarre behavior even prompted Vesper to order Rowan to check Theo's mental state. He had to explain at length that he was simulating combat before temporarily extinguishing everyone's doubts.

  Liam watched Theo with tired eyes, but he knew Theo wouldn't act like a madman without reason—his methods always exceeded common understanding, and Theo had never caused unnecessary worry.

  Liam quickly withdrew his gaze, gripping the Zaravand spear tighter. He knew he'd improved tremendously after yesterday's battle, but witnessing Ronan's combat capability and Rowan's revelation of true power, Liam understood clearly: that wasn't enough. He needed to be stronger, not just to keep his promise and self-respect but to protect Theo and himself from the threats that awaited.

  Blood surged through Liam's body under his fierce desire for strength, his heart beating harder with each pulse. A subtle transformation was gradually occurring beneath the skin of this young man from Oakhaven, though no one noticed.

  Liam took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air, shouldering his travel pack—his frame appearing more robust under its bulk. He walked step by step with the merchant convoy, then crouched to shift his center of gravity to his back leg, launching himself forward. Breath compressed, all the strength from his leg, hip, and shoulder muscles transmitted seamlessly through both arms. The spear shot forward as Liam's wrist rotated nearly 180 degrees in a fraction of a second.

  This was one of the new techniques Ronan had taught him: "Spiral Thrust." Liam had added weight by carrying extra baggage to increase difficulty in controlling his center of gravity and stamina. This multiplied the exercise's difficulty many times, but this was exactly what he wanted. Unlike Theo, he knew his intellect didn't match his friend's, but one thing was crystal clear: train to the point of death. If there were problems, Ronan would have stopped him, but he hadn't. That meant he could continue. So don't overthink it, focus on one goal only: Thrust Mastery!

  Midday arrived slowly, bringing complete exhaustion of both his stamina and spirit. Theo lay flat on the grass by the roadside, struggling to breathe as if taking his final breaths. His eyes closed to give his mind precious moments of rest.

  Beside him sat Liam. His friend was drenched in sweat, the heavy travel pack on his shoulder rubbing him bloody, staining his collar pink. But Liam paid no attention, his will and strength nearly completely drained. He could only pant heavily, letting each drop of sweat drip to the ground.

  Theo was too exhausted to hunt at midday. Fortunately, yesterday's beef remained—he'd carefully rolled, roasted, and smoked it yesterday afternoon. It would be the main energy source for him and Liam to overcome this complete deficit.

  Forcing himself to chew the delicious meat chunks, but now Theo's palate felt like chewing rubber. He tried to swallow as much as possible, because he knew only food could help his body and mind recover. He still had to treat that idiot Liam's wounds. "Crazy bastard, wearing that travel pack while training, it violated every biological principle!"—Theo cursed internally.