Weeks passed like this, the rhythm of pain marking the passage of time. Every day the strikes came, and every day Max endured them. His skin grew tougher, his muscles denser, his bones heavier, until even he began to sense the change.

At the end of the first month, a surprise awaited him.

As he stood once again with his arms stretched and his body beaten raw, he noticed two familiar figures entering the training grounds. Nina and Evan walked carefully, their steps far steadier than before. Their faces carried relief, and though they still bore signs of strain, they moved with ease that had been impossible when they first arrived at the giants' camp.

"Max!" Nina called, her voice filled with both joy and shock as she saw him standing under the rain of blows. Her hands trembled slightly as she covered her mouth. "What are they doing to you?"

Evan clenched his fists tightly, his face pale as he watched the clubs strike Max again and again. "Is this training or torture?" he muttered, his voice heavy with anger.

Max gritted his teeth against the pain but managed a small smile toward them. "I'm fine. This is what I need. Don't worry about me. Focus on your own recovery and training. If you can stand here today, it means you're getting stronger too."

Chief Igris glanced at the two humans with an unreadable expression. "Do not interfere," he said calmly. "If he wants to walk the path of strength, this is the only way. You may pity him, but your pity will not help him survive the Heavenly Lord Secret Domain."

Nina bit her lip, her eyes watering, but she nodded silently. Evan's fists trembled, but he lowered his head, understanding the truth in Igris's words.

From then on, Nina and Evan came to watch him whenever they could walk freely. Their presence became a small comfort to Max, though he never once allowed his concentration to waver from the brutal training. He endured the clubs, he ate the meat, and he rose again each morning no matter how much his body screamed in protest.

The second month passed in the same way. His skin thickened further, bruises that once lasted for days now faded within hours. The meat's energy was rebuilding him from the inside, reshaping his body so it could bear the monstrous power hidden within. Chief Igris often remarked that his progress was frightening, but he never once let the giants ease the intensity of the beatings.

By the half way to the third month, Max no longer collapsed after each session. He stood, bleeding and bruised, but his eyes burned brighter than ever, his frame broader, his presence heavier. His body had become a fortress, tempered through endless agony. The pain had not lessened, but he had adapted to it, grown through it, and molded it into strength.

Three months passed like this, each day dragging into the next, marked only by the rhythm of pain and the taste of centipede meat. To any other man, such torment would have been madness, but Max endured it.

He endured with teeth clenched, with veins bulging, with sweat and blood soaking into the scorched earth. His body was no longer the same vessel it had been when he first faced the black cube. Now it radiated the tempered strength of one who had been reforged in fire and hammer, waiting to be tested once more.

By the end of the third month, he stood taller, his frame broader, his presence heavier. His body had become something different, tempered like steel forged through fire and hammer. The pain remained, but it no longer broke him. It strengthened him, molded him, turned him into something beyond human.

"Are you ready for it, boy?" Chief Igris asked, his deep voice carrying both expectation and caution as he saw Max arrive before the black cube. The young man now wore his clothing again, his scars hidden beneath the fabric, though the heaviness of his presence alone betrayed the transformation of his body.

Max gave a firm nod but paused before stepping forward. His eyes shifted slightly, and a question left his lips. "Where are Nina and Evan? After the first couple of days, I didn't see them anymore."

Chief Igris's gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. "They have their own destinies, their own paths to walk, just as you have yours. You do not need to worry about them. They will be fine. The way of strength is not the same for everyone. Each must carry their own burden, and each must pay their own price."

Max remained silent for a moment, then nodded once more. The words settled in his heart like iron, reminding him that not all journeys ran side by side. Some paths separated, only to cross again in unexpected places.

He stepped in front of the black cube, his eyes narrowing as memories surged back. Three months ago, he had stood here and unleashed everything within him. His one thousand Draconic Essences had roared, his Dragon Scales Transformation had blazed with golden brilliance, and even the devastating force of the Immemorial Dragon Elephant Fist Art had crashed into the cube. Yet all of that effort had left it unmoved, as still and indifferent as a mountain before the wind.

Now, three months later, after enduring day after day of merciless beatings, after eating the strange meat that reforged his marrow and flesh, after living with pain as his constant companion, Max stood here again. He carried the weight of those months in his body, and though his expression was calm, there was steel in his gaze. The torture had to mean something. It could not have been for nothing.

He lifted his right fist slowly, his knuckles tightening until the sound of bones cracking faintly echoed. Raw power surged beneath his skin, rippling with the vitality that had been hammered into him by countless strikes. With a sharp exhale, he drove his fist forward.

Bang!

The sound thundered across the training ground, shaking the air itself. Dust leapt from the ground as the force spread outward. For the first time, the black cube trembled. Its massive body shuddered and scraped against the ground before sliding back three full steps.

Max lowered his fist, his eyes widening slightly at the sight. The cube had moved.

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