Soft rays of sunlight fell on Apollo, their warmth gently illuminating the room where he slept soundly. His body—honed through pain and persistence—rested on the soft comfort of the bed.
"Urgh…" he muttered, face scrunching in discomfort as he turned sideways, blocking out the sun with his back alone.
"Apollo, wake up!"
A firm, womanly voice echoed through the room. Hansu's wife stood outside the door—not shouting, but her tone was sharp and no-nonsense.
"Five more minutes…" Apollo groaned, dragging the sheets over his head like a shield against both the sunlight and the woman beyond the door.
"You better be up soon," she warned, then with a light huff, moved on to her other morning tasks.
Apollo lay still, staring blankly at the underside of his blanket. Slowly, his blood began to stir.
"…I'm not sleepy anymore," he muttered, pushing the sheets off and sitting up groggily. His body felt lighter today—not as clunky or exhausted as it had the day before.
He walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside and letting the morning light spill into the room.
Yesterday, he could barely move. His legs had been jelly—utterly useless after pushing himself too far.
'There's a reason Jichang used his hand blades and not his entire body,' Apollo had realized. The technique overloaded the tendons. Extended use was guaranteed to injure them.
So he'd come to a simple conclusion.
Conditioning.
The stronger his body, the more it could handle.
He smirked at his reflection in the mirror.
"Damn, I'm hot."
Picking up his toothbrush, he began brushing absentmindedly, mind drifting through the possible training regimens for today.
'With my tendons still recovering, I should probably give them a bit more rest.'
Spitting out the paste, he splashed cold water on his face. The shock snapped his groggy eyes fully open.
He turned on the shower, letting the cascade of water wash over him as he whispered, "I've got attack figured out… counterattacks are from the same style, so that part should be easy."
He closed his eyes, visualizing Jichang's hand-based redirections, then comparing them to his own leg-based counters. The image was clear in his mind.
"Yeah… I can do that."
But defense—that was the real problem.
"The Iron Fortress and Belief… How do I combine that?"
He shut off the shower and stepped out, snagging one last look at himself in the mirror. He grinned.
"Defense it is. And the best way to learn that is…"
. . .
One hour later.
Once again standing in the jungle, Apollo had discarded his shirt, welcoming the humid breeze against his chest.
'It's comforting.'
The sun was fully out now, warming the jungle in a way completely different from the cold 4 a.m. sessions he'd grown used to.
He smiled faintly, eyes sharp with determination. His body was tight and primed, every muscle visible beneath his skin.
"Don't worry, Sensei. You don't need to hold back until I get it."
He addressed Hansu, who stood just a few meters in front of him.
Hansu Seong had come in person, finally giving in after Apollo's relentless pestering for defensive training. His glasses were fixed firmly on his face, his taekwondo jersey snug, and his shoes grounded confidently in the grass.
He smiled calmly.
"Don't worry. Just learn fast… or else."
His words hung in the air like a veiled threat—or perhaps a challenge.
Hansu was well aware of the talent Apollo possessed.
'It's my job as his mentor to keep his ego in check.'
He glanced at the fired-up expression on Apollo's face and smiled to himself.
'Looks like it worked.'
"Shall we begin?"
He hadn't spoken loudly, yet Apollo heard every syllable. Clear. Direct.
And then… everything changed.
The jungle stilled.
Birds that had been chirping moments ago stopped abruptly. They fled the trees, wings beating frantically as if sensing a natural disaster.
Squirrels. Insects. Even the moths disappeared.
Everything ran.
As if an apex predator had entered the clearing.
And yet if anyone looked… they would only see a calm, middle-aged man with a kind smile.
"Yes, Sensei. Let's begin," Apollo replied, inhaling deeply.
'Iron Fortress.'
He adjusted his stance. Legs braced. Arms tight near his waist. Eyes focused.
He was ready—or so he believed.
But reality was different.
It was unclear to Apollo whether Hansu was holding back at all.
The first kick—just a straight snap kick—came at him like a predator's strike.
Fast. Precise. Unforgiving.
Apollo could've sworn he saw fangs behind it.
The air didn't just part from the impact—it scattered. Ripples shot through it like shockwaves.
'I can do this,' Apollo told himself.
He clenched his jaw.
And then the kick landed.
The sheer force of it slammed into his solar plexus like a battering ram.
If someone had asked, Apollo might've preferred an elephant stomp on him instead.
His body folded nearly in half before it was launched backwards.
He hit a tree with a painful crunch.
"Urghh…"
The bark scraped his skin open, sharp splinters embedding themselves into his back. Blood bloomed beneath his skin and spilled out in red trails.
He let out a cry of pain as he peeled himself off the trunk, his vision hazy.
A searing pain spread across his stomach—and then he felt it: something creeping up his throat.
His body heaved.
"Bleghhh—"
Warm blood, mixed with remnants of food, poured from his mouth. He hunched over, coughing violently.
Meanwhile, Hansu stood a few meters away.
His expression was calm—perhaps a little regretful.
'I just wanted to keep him grounded… maybe I overdid it?'
But his eyes stayed firm.
'Not this hard next time… but I'll make sure he learns the technique. That's my job as his Sensei.'
.........
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