Trying to become a warrior heavy lift training commences

Later that day, the sun had already sunk and the night had already ascended in the sky. A swarm of nocturnal creatures, which are only active at night, burst out of their hiding spots outside the tribe's fence as they scurried along in search of food.

It is quite unsafe to go about at night without a torch to guide you. As a result, the whole tribe was covered with torches, which were placed in front of their dwellings to provide any lighting for any passersby.

Even though he was large, Boarfang moved with the agility and stealth of a feline, as he weaved through the tribe in a ghost-like manner, and eventually made his way inside his house, approaching through the backyard so as not to alarm anybody.

It only opened his eyes for a split second after sensing someone, and when it recognized it was its master, the Grey Ironhide Boar closed its eyes once again and retired to his den for the night.

Soon after entering from the kitchen, a tanned woman sitting in the shadows softly lit up a lamp, allowing the light to gradually reveal her face, and she fixed her unblinking gaze on the intruder.

The sight of Geraldine was not a surprise to Boarfang, who took his hood off and walked leisurely towards the basin to wash away the slight stench of blood coming from his fist, which was still emitting a faint scent.

"Well?... Have you figured out who was responsible for what happened to our son?" The words came out of Geraldine's mouth as a piercing cold light flashed in her eyes.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Hehe… The little guy isn't likely to see the light of day tomorrow," Boarfang said as he made his way to the table and grabbed something to eat.

Geraldine exclaimed in shock as she said, "Did you actually murder a kid?" While she was saying this, her slender hand extended to Boarfang and gave him a dish of meat.

"What? ...No, I'm not going to lower my dignity and kill a kid; instead, I just beat him up and tie his nude body to a tree..." Boarfang expressed this as he looked his wife in the eyes with solemnity.

"I guess that will do for now, but what's the deal with all the blood? Geraldine responded.

Boarfang responded, a small chuckle on his face, as he took delight in the fact that his wife had still prepared some leftover food for him despite knowing that it was midnight,

"It's his father... In the same way that bastard raised a terrible son, I gave him a lesson by thrashing him around a little bit. Originally, I was going to chop off his head, but I stopped and tied him to a tree beside his son since I didn't want to do it too harshly as it would create issues."

"Good…" Geraldine sighed as she sat and watched his husband eat in front of her.

"Though… In the case that I see him outside, he won't be around for long," Boarfang thought coldly.

…...

With that, the hours passed, and it was now dawn, and Nicolaus bid his parents farewell as he made his way to the old shaman's hut on the north side.

He hadn't been at the doorway for long when a voice rang out in his ears, saying, "Meet me on the back... Kid."

A modest smile came over Nicolaus' face as the answer came in. As he made his way around to the back of the old shaman's home, he gently pushed the fence slightly, and he was surprised to see him in the vast backyard, laying some training equipment.

Shortly after he neared the old shaman, that old fart tossed a black vest towards his way, which was grabbed by Nicolaus and instantly felt like it was dragging him down as he struggled to even raise the heavy vest.

"Put that on… I'll train you to become at the first stage of being a mortal warrior… Heroic!"

With abundant sweat streaming down his face as he tried to put on the black vest, Nicolaus muttered, "Heroic?"

The old shaman nodded slightly, as he responded, " This level is achieved by persistent weight lifting, running, leaping, and nourishing one's body through flesh, blood, and spiritual plants.

"Strength and speed would both substantially enhance as the body's constitution progressively improved over time. Heroic, strictly speaking, could hardly even be called a stepping stone into the world of being a warrior, therefore I expect perseverance from you, kid..."

With a tap of his wooden staff at the end of his speech, a line of greenish fire emerged instantly, burning a path through the earth in a precise way, and it lay out a running track for him in a matter of seconds.

Nicolaus kept his gaze fixed on the greenish flame, which moved like snakes and left a trail behind it.

He had no idea that this fire was connected to the demonic-faced being that he encountered in the unknown realm of anguish since the fire that the old shaman exhibited was on a completely different scale from that of the demonic-faced being.

Nicolaus had no doubts about the fire, although it was green. Knowing that this world is not the same as the one on earth and that each person has a unique and distinctive ability. So, it's not surprising to see fires with unique colors.

The old shaman smiled at the little kid in front of him as he shouted, "Get moving!" He was sitting comfortably in a chair, with some kind of shade covering his face to keep out the sun.

Meanwhile, he pulled out the strange pipe he'd had stashed in his pocket, inhaled it, puffed out a cloud of smoke, and looked at the white-haired kid in front of him with a contented expression on his face.