Garion stood at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the ocean below.
The waves crashed against the rocks, sending up bursts of white foam.
"So... I’m finally here."
He crossed his arms and frowned, eyes tracing the distance to the water. It was higher than he had expected.
"But how am I supposed to breathe down there?"
[Use mana to cover your body. Or open your domain.]
Garion’s frown deepened. He shook his head slightly.
"That defeats the purpose," he muttered. "I didn’t co here to make things easier. I ca to evolve."
[Then the only thing you can do... is endure it.]
Garion clicked his tongue, irritation flickering across his face. "...Yeah. Figures."
He stepped closer to the edge, peering down once more.
The drop looked even steeper now. His chest tightened for a mont, but he forced himself to stay still.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension, then took a slow, deep breath. The air filled his lungs, steadying his nerves.
"Alright... no turning back now."
For a split second, he hesitated just enough to feel the weight of the decision. Then he jumped off.
SPLASH!
---
Garion quickly fell deep into the ocean, feeling the pressure build around him.
Even at just fifty ters, his body had already begun to tighten. His muscles tensed, and his chest felt heavy, but it still wasn’t enough.
He let himself sink further.
At one hundred ters, the pressure beca more noticeable. It pressed against his skin and crept inward, testing his limits.
Still, he wasn’t satisfied. He needed more.
"I have to go deeper," he muttered to himself, bubbles slipping from his lips.
He wanted to change his mana into a divine one. He wanted to beco a god. A re hundred ters would never be enough.
So he descended again.
At five hundred ters, his body nearly gave out. The pressure wrapped around him like an invisible force, squeezing tighter with every second.
He tried to lift his arm just a little, but it barely moved.
His body tightened from the inside, his muscles locking as if they were resisting sothing unseen. Still, he refused to stop.
Not yet.
At one kiloter deep, the pressure beca overwhelming.
It pushed against his organs, pressing into his chest and abdon as if trying to crush him from within.
A sharp ache spread through his body.
Garion gritted his teeth. "This... still isn’t enough."
If he wanted to beco a god, how could he fail at sothing like this?
So he forced himself deeper.
At two kiloters, the pressure turned brutal.
It felt as if the ocean itself wanted to crush him into nothing. His bones creaked, and his body trembled under the strain.
All of his mana cells reacted at once, pushing outward, resisting the crushing force that tried to collapse him inward.
His control wavered for a mont, and he clenched his fists, focusing.
Only then did he truly realize how dangerous this training was.
"The deepest ocean... is around eleven kiloters," he thought.
He looked down into the dark abyss below him. It stretched endlessly, silent and terrifying.
"And I’m only at two... and it’s already like this."
A flicker of doubt crept into his mind. He could die here.
Then, slowly, he smirked. "This is exactly what I need."
Garion steadied himself, forcing his body to stabilize at two kiloters deep.
His breathing had long since beco irregular, his chest tight under the pressure.
But then he noticed sothing.
Despite everything, he wasn’t suffocating. "...Wait."
He focused, sensing the flow of mana within him.
With careful control, he began drawing oxygen from the water itself, filtering it through his mana.
His eyes widened slightly in realization. "So I don’t need to worry about breathing..."
A small, relieved exhale escaped him. "Good."
Now, all he had to do was endure and go deeper.
---
Back on the God Island, the training hall was loud again as Rachel joined the session.
She stepped inside, glanced at the disciples, and frowned. "Do it again. What exactly are you doing when I’m not here?"
Clara, already sweating and catching her breath, groaned. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Oh, co on, Miss Rachel. We have been training hard, even when you’re gone."
Rachel raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "Is that so? Then why can’t you bench-press four tons?"
Clara frowned, straightening up a little. "Miss, I already lifted it for two sets. That already pushed past my limit."
Rachel shook her head. "That’s not an excuse. Now watch ."
Without waiting, she walked to the bench and lay down. The tal creaked softly as she adjusted herself.
She reached up and gripped the bar. The total weight stacked on it was five tons.
Arden crossed his arms, watching closely. "Miss Rachel, it’s been a week since you last trained. Isn’t that a bit too heavy?"
Rachel smiled, her expression calm and confident. "Don’t worry, Arden. I feel good, better than before. This will be easy."
Valtor laughed loudly from the side. "Hah! As expected of our trainer. Going all out right after recovering."
Rachel ignored him and focused. She inhaled slowly, steadying herself, then pushed the bar upward.
The bar rose smoothly. She was not shaking or even hesitating. It was just a clean bench press.
"One."
She lowered it carefully, paused for a breath, then pushed again.
"Two."
Clara’s eyes widened, her mouth slightly open. What the hell? How is this possible?
Rynar and Rynor exchanged stunned looks. Even they hadn’t expected this. Their mother... was this strong?
Dahlia stepped closer, watching Rachel’s form with sharp focus, ready to assist if needed.
But Rachel didn’t need help.
She continued pressing, each rep as steady as the last. The rhythm never broke.
Her breathing stayed even. The bar moved like it weighed nothing.
"Ten."
Clara took a step forward without realizing it.
"Fifteen."
Valtor stopped laughing, his grin fading into quiet disbelief.
"Twenty."
Rachel lifted the bar one last ti, then racked it with a solid clang. She sat up calmly, as if she had just finished a warm-up.
Clara stood frozen, staring.
What the hell is happening?!
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