Rhys' Five Years of Training

Rhys huffed a bit after he releases his hold on the tree to get a better angle at his work, almost everywhere in his perimeter were logs. Hanging from the sturdy branches he gave it a good whack with his weapon, soon the logs swung violently as they collided with one another causing chain reaction to occur as they bounced off one another to the point where two logs were coming towards Rhys simultaneously. While he could sense it coming, he couldn't stop the attack from colliding with the back of his head while stopping one of the logs. In a daze, Rhys held his head and crumbled a bit trying to regain some of his composure. The logs did hurt, so this was perfect training for him getting used to his weights, fighting multiple enemies and then some, or at least that's what he thought.

Rhys furrowed his brow a bit as he placed his hand on the ground as he slowly picked himself up after his last bout. He was making some more improvements as he felt his reaction time slowly acclimating to his weights as he was able to dodge some of the logs, but he was still getting hit or not reacting enough in order to block an incoming blow. "Dammit." he cursed as he held his back this time as he reached over to pick up his weapon. He wasn't making as much progress like he had originally envisioned bothered him greatly, the picture of the knight he had in mind was already being overshadowed by others who had already taken his place and while he was truly happy for them, he was the weakest link, or at least he felt like he was compared to the others. He knew he felt inferior to people of the Astraea clan, and rightfully so as he held them on a higher plane of importance. It was truly unbecoming as a Knight, hell what would his parents say to him if they saw how deep in a rut the was over stuff like this? Would they berate him? Tell him that he's over thinking things? He honestly didn't know and that's what was bothering him the most. "This is pathetic." Rhys said as he started to direct his anger towards the logs surrounding him as he wacked one as hard as he could sending it flying into another starting the chain reaction again.

Rhys steeled his mind as shifted his footing watching the logs coming towards him, firs the struck the log rather had before getting himself pushed back. “Shit.” He didn’t notice it but there was a second log behind the first adding more force towards the impact, he also had some coming from the side and luckily nothing was coming from the back. First, he dashed forward thinking he could tank the incoming blow by using his sheath to block most of the built-up impact causing him to stagger backwards. He didn’t have much time to retaliate so he ducked under narrowly avoiding another strike.
As Rhys continued to train his body and mind he seemed to have minor flash backs of sparring with the others, he remembered it vividly as he moved himself over to take a grab at the wooden broadsword tossing it up a bit spinning it as he stood still before he tightened his fist around it while moving himself towards Ivan. He tightened his grip for a moment as he soon steeled himself as he placed himself into a basic stance as he kept a gaze on Ivan before he smirked. "Then I'll make sure we'll aid you both!"

He assumed they were going to start attacking Ivan first, then himself, then Iris then so on and so forth. It seemed simple enough, at least before execution. That being said he soon hurled himself towards Ivan wrenching his hand back to slash at Ivan's side, it was a bunt hit and it wasn't going to do too much damage, or rather none of at all, he didn't want to harm either of the two if he could avoid it. Rhys seemed to chuckle for a moment recalling such memories as he continued to train his body vividly before eventually collapsing due to exhaustion once again.

“I’m so tired..”

After a long while Rhys left the logs as he turned his attention to something much more challenging, he tucked his sword on his side, he always wanted to give mountain climbing since he and Ivan started their training with Tyrion, he missed that guy a lot, but he had no time to grieve as he started to scale the mountain rather sloppily. His fingers dug themselves into the small slits in the stone as he lifted himself to the next finding an opening in the stones for his feet and other hand. If he kept this up surely things would turn in his favor…this wasn’t hard at all, thought the rather dumb Knight.

While it wasn't an immediate difference, Rhys could feel a sudden strain as he didn't have essence to fall back on as he slowly ascended the mountain, at some points stopping to take a small breather before continuing. "Wait...this is a bit too easy..." he told himself as he looked over to the waterfall for a sudden, but a dangerous idea at play. With a grunt he started to shimmy over to the waterfall and douse his body in cold water while feeling the pressure slam against his back, the slippery sections of the stone he was grabbing didn't make it any easier for him as it is as he felt himself suddenly lose grip sending his body straight down the falls below with a splash.

A few moments pass before a bruised Rhys emerged from the waters as he climbed up the surface while hacking up water. He paused to catch his breath several times as his body clearly shook from the pressure of having water continuously slam against his body, not to mention gravity taking its toll making the impact he felt when he smacked against the water a much harder surface. His fingers were scuffed slightly and felt hot and his palms felt unnatural as he rolled over before picking himself up again.

"Owwww.."
Rhys was surprised he didn't have an audience of some sort this time, honestly, he welcomed stuff like that because he could just embarrass himself by falling from a high place unintentionally. "Ah, shit, I forgot I was supposed to be doing this." he stretched his arms a bit as he reached his arms up to grasp the stone as the water poured down his back and hair clouding his vision while also causing his knees to buckle as he attempted to scale the mountain with just his physical strength alone.

With the water constantly smashing his body acting as an extra weight against him as he slowly ascended the mountain. Rhys cursing to himself as he continued to press on with his weight training by shadow boxing a few rounds especially knowing full well that mentally he was in no position to continue to push himself to physical and mental exhaustion just to prove a petty theory of his when it came to, unfortunately for the Rhys, he knew how to walk on the surface, but his stubborn nature sort of blocked that technique from his mind as he continued to scale the literal mountain before him. “If I…can’t get through this how I can I face the others?” He told himself through a hoarse breath.

"Dammit!" He roared, water pouring into his mouth causing him to spit it out as he ascended the mountain. The stone arrangement was vast for sure. This assignment would have been a standout among the bravest physical challenges he needed to do. He proceeded with his continuance of the climbing. As Rhys stretched his hand out to take hold of the next stone before the water and slippery surface caused his hand to slip and miss his footing. Rhys felt his heart drop as he tumbled towards the ground before he crashed into stone as he rolled down the mountain.

"AAAHHH!!!!"
Rhys grunted a bit as he slowly came to stagger up as he awoke in the small cave made from erosion due to the rushing water. "Ouch..." he muttered as he staggered up to his feet just to flop back down to rest himself. He didn't have much but some bandages, but they were already wet, so he tossed them aside. "Dammit." he cursed as he turned his attention listening to the raging waters gushing from the top. Maybe a bit of rest would help him, he thought as he closed his eyes while his body naturally mended itself.
"I gotta at least shadow spar." he told himself as he sprung to his feet. patting himself down a few times as he walked over to a sturdy looking tree in front of them. Taking stance, he began to strike at the plane was the thought the bag was.
Rhys contracts his eyebrows, wrinkling them in such a design, to the point that was difficult to decode regardless of whether he was threatening or not. The slashing the tree before him was to confront the rage of his inherent low self-esteem. With a quick swing of his right clench hand, Rhys hammers directly into the base of the tree and results with a progression of consolidated blows that gives it a remarkable bashing and whipping.
Undulating the substance of the bark with each continuous strike, Rhys sharpens his quality, exactness, and precision against the body of the swiping at the tree, which results in a sweat dribbling down his apparel.
The arrangement of blows successively strikes the bark. In the culmination of his regiment, Rhys hops into the air. Curving his hips and his hip bone socket subsequently, he fires his right leg directly into the base of the tree with a staggering roundhouse kick. He wanted to mix up his training, but this only made him recoil back, kicking a tree was clearly a bad idea, he knew this now.
The tree remained motionless although given his exhaustion he felt it was moving around from its maritime position thumped out of this world into the air from the sheer drive of Rhys’ last definitive strike. Rhys then straightens out his stance and position, conveying his elbows nearer to his mid-section and his other elbow to his armpit. "Okay. I'll proceed simply like this." He fixes the belt around his midriff.
Rhys then indulgences himself directly into the ground as he thought about the various training regimen Tyrion placed them through when he was still alive “…Oh right, I can do that.”. Wandering aimlessly his body forward and backward, he makes awesome utilization of his hip and midsection. Rhys plants the innards of his knees upon a bar post, raised high noticeable all around. As he lays there, topsy-turvy, he executes chivalrous crunches and sit-ups, with his elbows pushing his knee with each time he did one. It was an endless succession of twisting the stomach districts, using his abdominal muscle muscles to their most extreme potential. Rhys’ persistent demeanor when it came to prepare would have been useful, particularly when it came to pull-ups and sit-ups.

Rhys adjusted his stance and jumps off the shaft that he lay on. Presently, his hands hold onto it, gripping it with his phalanges firmly wrapping around the round outline of the shaft's tube-shaped surface. Presently, he holds his clench hands and yanks himself up utilizing his triceps brachii longus and his biceps brachii muscles.

A rehash of this preparation was done over and over. He was resolved to become more grounded; whether it implied he needed to hazard his body or not, didn't make a difference. He'd keep on growing more grounded, by doing insane activities. Pull-ups? He'd do two-hundred and turn in until tomorrow.

In the wake of finishing his push-ups and his sit-ups against the gravitational strengths that weighed downward on him so intensely,  Rhys inhaled as he took a short break. Yes, he'd go for a swim. He jumps into the closest pool of water, complete with a punching sack submerged. Presently, he holds his breath profoundly, peeling off his white T-Shirt and additionally his dark shorts.

He continues to pummel and push the surface of the punching sack with his clench hands and his kicks. He was confronting water weight, the contact of the water particles against his members, and in addition the cardiovascular necessities of relaxing. He didn't have to breath, at any rate that is the thing that he thought. That was the point at which he summoned his quality and crushed the punching sack straight out of the water, directly into the air.

Content with that, he bashes his feet against the base of the swimming pool and develops like a dolphin. As he ascends into the air alongside the punching sack, his swings take after, enormously compelling as far as simply sheer drive. There were repercussions to pay for the second punching sack that he was to battle.

He hammers directly into its inside and sends it down into the ground, splitting and emulsifying the sand that was contained in its substance. It truly dissolves away, as the punching pack lays there, just a shell of its previous dim carapace staying, as if it had shed its skin, and additionally the greater part of its organs.

There are a larger number of things to concentrate on than essentially bashing punching packs. Presently, he hurries through a field of logs inside the same exercise room. Every log was spun around by a mechanical gadget, helpfully implicit by past antecedents who critically encouraged themselves to prepare for the endlessly capable Gates. His swings are exact, capable, and reasonable. He hits every log and courses them, evading any chips or branches that challenge come his direction.

A touch lines his right cheek when one of the branches, with a cut-out fragment, cuts over his skin. Blood dribbles from him, plentifully alongside the sweat that had accumulated on his individual. In any case, he balances himself and dashes through it once more, with his swathed hands up to his face to shield him from any assaults, utilizing his fluffy eyebrows to be the line for where his knuckles ought to lay. His brow defender was much more sufficiently adept to secure his sanctuary all things considered.

Presently does he break. He gauzes up his injuries and completions up the day by hunching down redundantly. His squats are tedious and dull, yet they are deserving of being called incredible preparing regiments, for they prepared his lower body, his center, and the velocity at which he could move. The strain in his thighs was being polished and was being sharpened for the day he'd need to utilize it in real bonfire genuine battle.

That battle was the day that he was preparing for so brutally all things considered. His arms persistently gauze himself up whilst his legs chip away at reinforcing themselves with monotonous squats done, that almost touch his rear end against the surface of the rec center fabric underneath him. A towel is apportioned from a distributor and he use it to wipe off any sweat on the sides of his sanctuary, and not after this would decide to go on a self-journey, and by self he meant seclude himself in the hospital for a while.

Rhys’ hair seemed to have grown rather unkempt over the time he’s been training himself in solitude, honestly the feeling of isolation and just having the various sounds of the forest while calming did unnerve him and made the male uneasy. This was his own fault after all he made the decision to leave and train himself through this regiment, sometimes some daemons managed to find him causing him to fly out and attack and when the carnage ended, he left to go set up camp somewhere else. He remembered what he saw before when the giant was killed that was, something so terrifying to the male’s core. “Never again.” Rhys said was he stoked the small fire he made to himself taking a breath he dressed his old wounds after awhile before he stood himself up rolling his arms making sure everything was taken account of, he had some rations he made, they didn’t taste good at all, but he needed something to eat after all and he had some canteens of water thankfully. He took a breath as he rested himself struggling to sleep.

“I’ll do this again.” He told himself motioning in his mind to his training, he wasn’t done, and he had a lot to do before he could come back to Arcadia. Little did Rhys know getting lost and accidently getting on a boat left him away for five whole years.