270 Frustrating Stagnation

One week later.

While it had taken a few days of bleeding knees and shins, Frey could finally walk about the cavern's uneven ground with confidence, only occasionally tripping. His smell was numbed to the stench of dried sweat and straw. The dim light or bright light, he had no preference anymore. He lined up the dummies for another round of practice swings. He struck down with his newest weapon, a wooden training mace. The force of the weapon is what drew him in, the satisfying crack of each and every dummy he descended upon.