Brooks, the lieutenant commander of the Sacred Order of Sefira, felt a deep sense of awe for himself.0

He had trained as a knight since the age of seven, fueled by an ambitious goal of one day becoming the commander of a knight order. He dedicated himself to training tirelessly, day and night. For years, he averaged only two hours of sleep per day, enduring grueling, bone-crushing training. Brooks prided himself, confidently claiming that no training could be more intense than his.0

But all that pride amounted to nothing in front of Keter. The rigorous training he underwent with Keter—no, that was too mild to describe the nightmarish ordeal—tested Brooks' mental fortitude dozens of times every second. Yet Brooks endured it all, showcasing the dignity of a lieutenant commander.0

However...0

Huff, huff… I really can’t go on anymore.0

Though he had learned the mysterious technique of Heavenly Strength from Keter, even that had its limits.0

“Number Four, get up.”0

At Keter’s command, Brooks groaned in protest.0

“Ughhh…”0

He rolled on the ground, moaning, but couldn’t manage to get up. 0

Keter nudged him with a foot and said, “Are you trying to act clever in front of me?”0

“No, sir. I truly don’t have the strength to get up anymore.”0

“Number Three is...0