The Poet's System
Chapter 85: Final Training

Chapter 85: Final Training

Daylan breathed heavily through his mouth, unable to move an inch. Worse still, he could feel his ribs cracking—one after another.

Your presence really lives up to the rumors—he thought, struggling even to grit his teeth.

When he was told about the final training—enduring Blind’s full presence until he could live freely with it without relying on Dark Spiral—he thought it was just a matter of time. The stickers placed throughout the house prevented Blind’s aura from affecting anything or anyone else. Only Daylan was exposed, carrying the full burden.

Even so, he believed it was just about enduring long enough. If he pushed through, he’d get used to it—just like she and Medora had grown used to each other.

But oh, he was wrong. Just surviving the days before he could even begin to adapt was a struggle. Now, he had no choice but to carry the weight—and find a way to live with it.

Still, he couldn’t even crawl—only able to twitch his fingers and toes. He tried to struggle, but even the smallest movement brought sharp pain. Sweat poured down his face, his body ached in agony, and exhaustion washed over him.

He began to consider activating Dark Spiral—no one would know anyway—but no matter how many times the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it aside. There would be no value in the trial if he didn’t see it through.

However, it wasn’t long before he finally drifted into sleep. He stayed in that exact position for four hours, waking briefly a few times from exhaustion before falling back asleep.

His body was drenched in sweat before he even realized it. He lay still for a moment, waiting for the drowsiness to fade. Then the harsh truth hit him: the only way through this was to carry himself—and the unbearable pressure.

The thought made his heart skip a beat, and a shiver ran down his spine.

You can do this, Daylan—he told himself.

He knew going all out risked breaking his bones, so his best option was to take everything in, little by little.

Just like doing push-ups, he began pushing himself against the pressure—so little that not an inch of his body lifted from the floor. But he didn’t stop. Hunger crept in, yet he had no choice but to keep going.

His sweat turned into a river, streaming down and soaking into the floor beneath him.

It didn’t take long before Blind stepped out. By then, Daylan had been lying there for about eight hours.

"You’re still alive... doing great. Keep it up," he teased, pouring water over Daylan’s back.

Daylan was grateful, but if Blind had been here the whole time, it might have been easier.

He didn’t need to say a word—the low growls escaping him on the floor said it all, and Blind understood perfectly.

Blind gently tilted Daylan’s head and fed him before stepping back inside to fetch his meal. When he returned, he summoned a dreamy chair and resumed feeding him.

Daylan’s stomach welcomed Blind’s generosity eagerly, but his throat struggled to swallow the food. Each bite became another kind of torture, and he clenched his eyes tightly with every swallow.

"Let me keep you company. Might lift your spirits a bit," he smirked.

At that moment, the last thing Daylan wanted was a distraction—but with barely any strength to speak, there wasn’t much he could do.

"Did you know your penalty, Iron Maiden, was actually a theory I wrote in The Chaos Serene?" he laughed. "I feared you’d catch up and skip the trial by just applying what you learned. But you didn’t remember a thing—you actually found your serenity within the chaos."

He went on about countless things, but Daylan’s mind barely registered a word. His focus was on the push-ups—though no visible progress showed, he could feel his body slowly adapting, thanks to Spiral Edge.

Blind, however, switched to reading Daylan some of the books he had written—FreeFright and A Still River. Their titles gave little hint to their content, but like The Chaos Serene, they delved deep into magical theories.

Before long, night had fallen. Daylan thought Blind would suppress his aura so he could rest and continue the trial the next day. But instead, Blind just created a barrier around him to keep insects away—and then went to sleep himself.

Daylan nearly cried as he stared at the floor, reminding himself why he endured such torture—to save his father and gain enough strength to keep anyone else from suffering because of him. He kept doing his tiny push-ups for a long while before sleep finally took him.

His sleep was restless and broken—every time he let his guard down, he could feel his ribs slowly cracking. But he pushed through, and before long, morning had come.

This time, on his very first push-up, he felt himself lift a little. Blind returned with even more books than the day before and read them all to him. Daylan felt a flicker of excitement—not because of Blind’s books or his teasing jokes, but because throughout the day, he could feel his muscles gathering a strength unlike anything he’d felt before.

The day that followed only made him smile. By then, he could probably talk and eat, and he managed to do two full pushups before finally dropping to the floor.

It was a little into the afternoon while Blind kept rereading FreeFright to Daylan—there was something about using darkness to heal that Daylan wanted to understand carefully.

At a point during the reading, Daylan stopped listening, rested himself on the floor, and began breathing deeply, bracing for something. He propped his hands against the floor, took a deep breath, and pushed hard.

His hands and legs trembled as he lifted his body. Blind stopped reading and carefully watched as Daylan’s body shook repeatedly.

You can do this — he thought, gritting his teeth.

He slowly moved one leg toward his chest, searching for a better grip. Then he added the other, focusing all his energy on his legs as he pressed them against the floor. Before long, his hands began to lift slowly, but his muscles screamed, his face flushed red and veined, and his legs trembled uncontrollably.

Blind simply watched him with a smile, his elbow propped against his thigh and his chin resting on his fist.

Daylan tried to stand upright but was stuck. He couldn’t move a muscle, standing there with an awkward smile, his whole body drenched in sweat.

Blind said nothing about Daylan’s progress; he just turned the page and began reading. Meanwhile, Daylan refused to let his body collapse on the floor despite trembling violently and showing every sign of giving out. But with determination etched on his face, he wasn’t going to let that happen.

He stayed in one spot, constantly trying to move his legs despite the exhaustion.

Evening came, and Daylan still hadn’t moved. His calves and feet ached, forcing him to stay awake all night—but he didn’t let the sleepless hours go to waste. By morning, he was able to take a heavy step forward.

Blind returned as usual but said nothing about Daylan’s progress, ignoring the excitement clearly written on his face. Daylan didn’t mind his cold expression and kept working on his movements.

By the end of the day, he could walk under Blind’s bone-cracking aura, though each step weighed heavily on him, forcing him to pause for a few minutes before moving again.

Taking advantage of the rest, he began shadowboxing whenever he could.

He was finally able to sleep longer than before, and even those few hours felt like a relief—something he would have found hard to believe just days ago. He kept this up for several more days.

By a week and two days after he started, he could walk freely and no longer practiced shadowboxing in the training room, as his strikes caused the walls to shake. He didn’t even notice when Blind suppressed his aura—it felt as if his body still carried the weight, yet his movements grew lighter.

The sun was slowly setting when Daylan returned from the forest to find Pry and Blind checking on Asaemon in the training room.

"Will he ever wake up?" Daylan asked as they all turned to look at him.

"Yes, he usually takes less than three weeks," Blind said as they all began leaving the room.

"Your final trial starts tomorrow. Word of advice—this won’t be anything like the previous trials. Fate abilities are powerful and transcend time itself. Don’t face it head-on unless you’re truly confident in your ability... and remember, the stronger the ability, the harsher the trial. You already know how strong your system is."

Blind said this as she and Pry walked past Daylan, who watched them go and swallowed nervously.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

Warning: Hell was mercy. What comes next wears a crown of ruin. And it walks with a smile sharp enough to bleed gods. Hell was peace.

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