The Wild Challenge From Both Lives - Chapter 2: Returning Back From A Brutal Day

^[1]Returning back from a brutal day

The morning air pulsed with something unseen—an invisible current, like static before a storm. Every breath Hikaru took felt charged, like it carried something heavier than oxygen alone. Hikaru stood among dozens of other disciples, all clad in similar robes, their faces set with quiet focus.

They were gathered in a massive courtyard paved with smooth stone, flanked by towering pagodas and statues of warriors frozen in battle. The sect’s emblem—a coiling dragon entwined around a sword—was carved into the pillars that lined the space.

Hikaru’s body still ached, but not from bruises. It was a deep exhaustion, like he had been training for months. Yet his mind held no memory of such effort.

He clenched his fists. This wasn’t Sekai. This wasn’t his world.

A figure stepped forward onto the raised platform at the head of the courtyard. The same man who had woken him earlier—his blue and silver robes marking him as someone of great importance.

His voice rang out, clear and commanding.

“Disciples of the Azure Sky Sect, today marks another step in your journey toward strength. Those who falter will be left behind. Those who persist will rise.”

Hikaru swallowed hard. *Azure Sky Sect?* The words felt foreign, yet a part of him instinctively understood what they meant.

A life of training. A world of cultivation.

The instructor’s sharp gaze swept over the disciples before settling—for the briefest of moments—on Hikaru.

“You were all chosen to be here because you possess the potential to step beyond the limits of ordinary men,” he continued. “But potential alone is worthless. Only those who endure will be worthy of power.”

A shiver ran down Hikaru’s spine.

Endurance…

Hadn’t he done that all his life?

The instructor raised his hand, and a surge of energy rippled through the air. The ground trembled slightly beneath them.

“The weak will fall. The strong will rise. Today, you will prove which one you are.”

Hikaru took a slow breath. His fists tightened.

For the first time in his life…

He wanted to prove he wasn’t weak.

The courtyard buzzed with movement as the disciples split into pairs for training duels. Hikaru found himself standing across from a boy slightly older than him, his sharp eyes filled with confidence.

“Don’t hold back, newbie,” the boy said with a smirk, rolling his shoulders. “I won’t.”

Hikaru swallowed, gripping the wooden training sword he had been handed. His opponent moved with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before, while Hikaru… had no idea what he was doing.

*I’ve fought before,* he told himself, thinking back to the beatings he endured in Sekai. *I just need to endure again.*

The moment the duel began, Hikaru moved first.

He lunged forward, swinging his sword. It was a wild, untrained strike—too slow, too predictable.

His opponent easily sidestepped and retaliated.

THWACK!

The impact sent a sharp, burning ache through his ribs, like something inside had cracked. He gasped, but the pain stole his breath before he could even cry out.

The boy didn’t stop.

Another strike—this time to his shoulder. His grip weakened.

A sharp kick to his stomach sent him sprawling onto the stone floor.

Laughter rippled through the watching disciples.

“Tch, you call that a strike?” his opponent scoffed. “Even a child could block that.”

Hikaru gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. His hands trembled around his sword.

*I have to fight.*

*I can’t just endure—I have to fight, enduring isn’t enough.*

He charged again.

But his opponent was faster.

Another hit. Another fall.

Again.

And again.

Until Hikaru couldn’t move anymore. His limbs ached. His vision blurred. The cold stone beneath him felt almost too familiar.

The instructor stepped forward. Hikaru braced himself, waiting for advice. A correction. Anything.
Instead, the man simply exhaled. A sharp, quiet sigh.

“Good try.”

Hikaru felt something deep inside him break at that word.

“But this attempt, is the level of someone who thinks endurance is enough.” The instructor’s eyes were cold. “Strength is not given to those who endure suffering. It is given to those who overcome it.”

Silence fell over the courtyard.

Hikaru’s opponent scoffed and walked away. The other disciples muttered among themselves, some sneering, others simply indifferent.

Hikaru lay there, gasping for breath.

*I thought I’d be different here. I thought I’d be stronger.*

But even in this world, he was still weak.

Hikaru remained on the ground long after the whispers died down. The other disciples moved on, pairing up for their next rounds of sparring, their focus shifting away from the pathetic newcomer who couldn’t even last a few minutes in a duel.

His ribs throbbed, his arms felt like lead, and his breath came in ragged gasps. But none of that compared to the weight pressing on his mind.

*I thought I’d be different here.*

*But nothing has changed.*

He had always endured. Always taken the pain. Yet enduring wasn’t enough. That truth echoed in his head, repeating like a cruel mantra.

A shadow loomed over him.

Hikaru forced himself to look up, expecting another mockery, another insult.

Instead, he saw her.

A girl with dark violet hair tied into a loose braid, her deep crimson eyes unreadable. She was dressed in the same training robes as the others, but the air around her felt… different. Cold, distant—yet sharp, like a blade drawn but not yet swung.

She stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“You’re still lying there.” Her voice was emotionless, neither mocking nor concerned. Just stating a fact.

Hikaru gritted his teeth and pressed his palms to the ground. His arms shook, his ribs screamed, but his body barely lifted an inch before giving out. He collapsed, gasping.
Pathetic. Even now, he couldn’t stand.

The girl tilted her head slightly, as if analyzing him. “You were trying to win with instinct alone,” she said. “That won’t work here.”

Hikaru swallowed, his throat dry. “Then what will?”

She crouched beside him, meeting his gaze.

“Discipline. Technique. Power.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Not just the will to endure, but the strength to make others endure you.”

Hikaru’s breath caught. The words hit deeper than he expected.

She stood up, looking down at him one last time. “If you don’t get stronger, you’ll be left behind.”

With that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of training disciples.

Hikaru clenched his fists against the cold stone floor.

*Not just the will to endure… but the strength to make others endure me.*

A slow fire began to burn inside him.

This world had given him a chance. A chance to be more than just someone who suffers and survives.

But he needed to earn it.

Gritting his teeth, he planted his hands on the ground and forced himself up, despite the pain.

Hikaru stared at the ground. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t move.
Was it even possible? Could he really change?

Then, her voice echoed again for third time in his mind: *Not just the will to endure, but the strength to make others endure you.*

His hesitation shattered.

This time, he wouldn’t just endure.

He would fight.

Hikaru barely had time to recover before the next part of training began.

After the duels, the disciples were immediately sent to their next exercises—conditioning, endurance, weapon drills, and breathing techniques. There were no breaks, no moments to catch his breath.

His arms trembled as he held a low stance, sweat dripping down his forehead. The instructor circled the trainees like a predator, watching for any sign of weakness.

“Hold it. Just hold it.”

Hikaru’s legs burned. Every muscle in his body screamed for relief, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through. Around him, the other disciples held the same stance with far more ease.

The day continued with one grueling task after another.

Carrying buckets of water up a steep stone path—again and again. His shoulders ached. His hands blistered.

Holding a stance while balancing on a wooden post for what felt like hours. His legs wobbled. He nearly fell more than once.

Striking a training dummy hundreds of times. His palms bruised from the impact.

The sun began to set, but the training did not stop.

As darkness fell, Hikaru’s body was at its absolute limit. He had never felt this level of exhaustion—not even after the worst beatings back in Sekai.

And yet…

Something was different.

Even through the pain, he could feel something shifting inside him.

Not power. Not strength. Not yet.

But something waiting to awaken.

That night, Hikaru collapsed onto his bed in the sect dormitory. His entire body ached—his arms, his legs, even muscles he didn’t know existed.

But he felt… alive.

For the first time, he had fought through the pain by choice. Not just because he had no other option.

He let out a slow breath, staring at the wooden ceiling.

“Today, I was weak.”

“But if I keep going…”

His fingers curled slightly.

“Tomorrow, I will be stronger.”

As his eyelids grew heavy, a strange sensation filled him—like a distant pulse echoing through his body.

He didn’t realize it, but the air around him was subtly shifting, responding to something within him.

And just before sleep took him completely—

—the world around him changed.

The pain that had gripped his body slowly faded. The deep aches in his muscles, the burning soreness in his arms and legs—it all softened, like mist dissolving under the morning sun.

A strange warmth pulsed within him, subtle yet undeniable. His breathing slowed, his body feeling lighter, stronger… different.

Then—

A sharp sensation, like being pulled through water—

And his eyes snapped open.

Hikaru blinked, staring at the familiar ceiling of his bedroom. The cold artificial light filtering through his window confirmed it.

He was back in Sekai.

His alarm clock read 7:00 AM.

He pick his phone to check date, *6th April?! *. It is a next a day after beaten by ryuji and daiki.

His heart pounded as reality settled in. Yesterday in isekai, he had been beaten. The exhaustion, the pain—it had all been real. And yet…

His body should have been a mess of bruises. His arms should have been stiff, his ribs sore from the kicks.

But instead—

He felt… fine. More than fine.

Hikaru flexed his fingers. His body felt lighter, stronger in a way he couldn’t fully explain. His mind replayed the brutal training from Isekai—hauling buckets, striking dummies, standing in painful stances for hours.

And then, realization struck.

The training in Isekai… It carried over.

The formula echoed in his head:

3x effort in Isekai = 1x overall increase in Sekai.

His grip tightened on his bedsheets.

“Does that mean…”

Hikaru hesitated before sitting up. He expected stiffness, soreness—at least a dull ache.
But there was nothing. Just… lightness.

He pressed a hand to his ribs where the kicks had landed yesterday. No pain. No bruises. Just steady breath and solid muscle.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

His balance was steadier than before. The usual sluggishness in the morning was gone.

He took a slow breath.

“I was weak yesterday.”

“But today… I’m stronger.”

His reflection in the window caught his eye.

He wasn’t drastically different, but there was a subtle sharpness in his posture, a steadiness in his stance that wasn’t there before.

And for the first time in years—

He didn’t feel powerless.

The clock ticked forward. School awaited. And with it, the bullies who had broken him yesterday.

But today, Hikaru wasn’t just going to endure.

He was going to fight back.

P.R’s note: from what I understood, if he sleeps at 12am in current world, then he wakes at 7am of other world, having time ratio of 17:7, meaning if 1 hour of awake passes in sekai, then only 0.4117 hours (about 24.7 minutes) passes in Isekai and vice versa