God of Destruction: Living Among Mortals

Nova was dismissed from the hospital after the nurses, using their healing powers, removed any and all damage dealt to his body. He was back at his apartment, the kittens playfully playing with each other, as he prepared to feed them, before going to sleep.

After feeding them, brushing, and making sure they were sleeping and not getting in any trouble, he went to bed, as he needed to wake up early for tomorrow's training session.

Thinking that even if he was a second late, Marcus would lose his restraint and scold the life out of him. So, keeping that in mind, he decided to sleep as fast as possible with two alarms set for 4:30 AM and 4:45 AM.

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It was now 4:50 AM, and he had missed both of his alarms. He suddenly woke up as he heard a drill, which was Freya's sign to tell him to get up. He checked his phone and realized he had missed both alarms. He took a second to process the information, and his face grew wider, in shock, in utter nervousness.

His eyes felt like they were going to fall out, his jaw dropped in fear of being late, so he quickly brushed, got ready, put a bowl of food and water for the kittens to be good until his training was over, and rushed out the door, sprinting like his life depended on it through the city.

After another five minutes, he was early by two minutes, and he reached the guild to see Marcus and Adam talking. He entered, going towards the two, thinking he made it in time, which he did, and Marcus gave a slight glance at him, shifting back to Adam.

Then he started to shift his posture to ascend forward, as Nova came behind Adam, greeting him. After they exchanged their greetings, Marcus took them to the eighth floor, starting their training with some light warm-up.

The eighth floor emerged, sending a chill down Nova and Adam, as they felt that coldness, while also feeling the warmth of all the past training that occurred on the floor.

Racks upon racks of weapons were lined up against the right wall, while padded mats covered the floor, stained with sweat, old and vile. One could even smell the faint fragrance of blood that no amount of scrubbing could erase.

Marcus led them to the center, like a boss, since he was one, exuding that effortless dominance like a predator. Nova felt the shift in the air almost immediately, as if he were in a higher gravity area. The air felt like it was pressing against his skin, through his skin, and inside his skin.

The room alone was a challenge to withstand. Adam fell to the floor, as his limits had already been reached, which made Marcus slightly dull, as he realized Adam was still far too weak, even if he had awakened.

There were dummies, training orbs, and some other stuff that Nova didn't know what since he had never seen it in his life.

"Light warm-up first," Marcus said, his voice low, cutting through the silence of the room, as the room trapped his echo inside.

Adam finally got up, pushing through his limits, slightly smiling, which made Marcus proud. Marcus then gestured to a row of weighted spheres hovering at chest height.

"These are mana orbs. They adapt to your output. Push them with basic strikes, such as fists, kicks, whatever. And do ten reps on each side. Focus on your form, not power. Power will always follow if you do your form right. And any sloppiness, and you will get thrashed, professionally, by me."

Nova nodded, going from north to south very fast, in fear. He stepped up first, ready to give it a try, and also to have Adam know what he was meant to do.

His body, which was still fresh from the healers' touch, felt strangely light, as if the nurses had stitched and fixed something more than his wounds.

He squared off against the orb, its surface radiating like an event horizon. His fists shot out like a bullet, connecting with a solid thump that sent waves across the orb's surface. It was pushed back slightly, but stabilized rather quickly, as if telling Nova his punch was weak, even though he fired it like a minigun.

After completing his first rep, he switched sides, left hook landing clean, the impact vibrating up his arm like a thunderclap.

Adam went next; his strikes were tentative, like probing an unknown enemy. The orb barely seemed to have moved (in the mortal realm), and Marcus barked at him about it: "Commit, kid. Half-assed effort means nothing. Punch it harder. Punch it with all your strength. And fuck up that ball."

Adam gritted his teeth, his next punch carrying the weight of Marcus's words, the orb moving slightly. Nova watched, noting the stutter in Adam's form.

They cycled through, breaths syncing into a rhythm. Nova's mind wandered briefly to Freya, her voice, her beautiful face, all lingering like an echo in his mind. But he shoved it aside; he had to focus, he couldn't give in to lust.

"Good," Marcus murmured after the sets. "Now, circuit basics. Wall runs to build agility, then shadow sparring against the mirrors." He pointed to the far wall, stone rising ten feet, angled slightly for grip. "Up and over, ten times. Just your raw body honing itself."

Nova launched first, feet pounding the mat before hitting the wall. His toes dug in, making him ascend upwards, leg muscles becoming springs to help him propel up. He reached the top, then went down, landing with a controlled thud.

The motion, for some reason, reminded him of his old instincts, when he was still divine, how it didn't require much for him to do stuff like this. But now, even this basic training was making him sweat.

Adam went next, struggling on his first attempt, sliding down halfway. Marcus didn't mock, but instead corrected and encouraged him. "Lean in, use your core. And believe in yourself. Come on, again."

By the fifth attempt, Adam had finally made it, panting for air, face fully red, like a ginger. Nova felt proud and respected by Adam. He knew the kid had grit, but it just needed to be unlocked from all that shyness and stuttering that was concealing his true nature.

Shadow sparring came next. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors lined one side, reflecting their forms infinitely. "Fight your reflection," Marcus instructed. "Mirror every move, but invert it: block becomes strike, dodge becomes advance. Build the anticipation."

Nova faced himself, the mirror reflecting his sharp gaze back at him. He threw a jab; the reflection mimicked, but he inverted it, turning it into a block that flowed into a knee strike. The air became heavier with his movements, his body turning sharply at every counter.

It was like dueling his past self, a god that never bled, or even came close to being affected by anything. But now he was forced to confront the mortal version who did. Sweat radiated through his skin, his breath becoming sharper.

Adam mirrored awkwardly at first, his strikes were clashing with hesitation, but gradually he started to adapt, his form was smoothing out, and his strikes were less hesitant.

An hour in, Marcus called for a break. His voice was low and understanding, since he saw how both of them were sweating buckets upon buckets of sweat: "Let's take a five. Grab water, use the restroom. Then we will grind harder."

"We" as if he is vicariously living through his hard drill. Nova thought, his hands on his knees, panting for air.  If this was just the warm-up, I wonder what the real thing will be like.

Marcus tossed them a canteen from a nearby rack, the liquid cold and refreshing. Nova drained half, feeling the mana trace through his body, pushing back his fatigue, and making him feel like a phoenix.

He gave the other half to Adam, who drank the remaining, feeling refreshed.

"Next: resistance bands," Marcus said as the five-minute break leaped out of the room. He uncoiled a thick strap embedded with glowing crystals. "These pull against your strikes, simulating enemy pushback. Fifty reps per limb. Focus on the explosion, use your hips to the fullest."

Nova strapped in, the bands anchored to the floor hooks. His first punch stretched the bands tightly, the resistance building like dragging through quicksand. By rep twenty, his arms burned. Not even singeing, just physically paining.

His muscles protested, but he pushed through, grunting, each strike reaffirming his "I'm not done yet" mentality.

On the other hand, Adam faltered at thirty, the band snapping back, but Marcus stepped in, adjusting his stance. "Breath through it. Think of pain as your primary teacher. Your indicator."

As they wrapped the sets, Nova's T-shirt was drenched in sweat, his breath irregular. The room felt like it was shrinking, the lights brightening, as if the guild fed on their effort.