Training Montage

Three more days had passed since Draven's awakening. He stood before a small, weathered mirror, surveying the damage that had been inflicted upon his once-handsome face. Bruises, scars, and the eye patch painted a grim picture. Draven ran his fingers over the rough terrain of his visage and let out a heavy sigh.

"Damn it," he muttered in frustration, his hand balling into a fist. He couldn't help but feel the weight of his injuries, a stark reminder of the dangers he had faced. He punched the wall next to the mirror, wincing as pain shot through his hand. He had grown weaker without access to a healing potion, and it left him feeling utterly drained. The truth serum loan he had taken had left him unable to purchase anything else from the system until he settled the debt.