Zane couldn't stop thinking about the absurd weight Shelby was casually carrying around as if it were nothing.
Wait… a heavy lorry weighs around 40,000 kilograms. That means… he's carrying the weight of nearly 300 such lorries?
His eyes twitched.
Oh my god. If this guy slapped someone, it'd be like getting hit by 300 heavy lorries all at once! And that's just from his body weight alone!
His thoughts spiraled.
The way he fought in the dungeon... it didn't reflect that kind of force at all. That means he's intentionally holding back. He's controlling the force output. And what's even crazier is—how the hell does he even walk on normal ground with that much weight?
Zane's mind whirled.
He must have a technique or instinct to normalize his weight or somehow distribute it perfectly within his body… Freaking amazing.
He clenched his fists.
Now it makes sense why the System couldn't give me an accurate reading of his stats. I'm not strong enough to read someone on that level. That guy's just… a monster. No, worse—he's beyond that. In terms of raw physical strength... this man is simply perversion incarnate. And also? Completely nuts.
Zane glanced at the four rings now fastened to his limbs. He could feel the added weight—about 40 kilograms total.
"Stop thinking," Shelby's voice snapped him out of his daze. "Get your ass back on the treadmill and resume your routine. After your workout, the real training begins."
Zane didn't argue.
He bounced onto the treadmill, landing lightly despite the extra weight. As his feet touched the surface, it activated with a mechanical hum, and he began running—his pace matching the treadmill's moving track.
At first, the weight was noticeable. But after ten minutes, his body began to adapt. His stride became fluid, his breathing more measured. He kept going.
Then, like clockwork, the notifications started appearing.
Ding!
[+1 Stat point granted to all attributes.]
Ding!
[+1 Stat point granted to all attributes.]
They continued to pop up every thirteen minutes.
With each notification, Zane could feel the change—his body becoming sturdier, his mana reserves deeper and more refined.
He gritted his teeth with determination.
But after three hours… it stopped.
The growth stalled again.
Zane leapt off the treadmill, breathing hard but controlled. Across the gym, Shelby was circling the room, barking pointers to the other trainees. The moment Shelby felt Zane's gaze, he turned and walked over.
"Bottleneck again?" he asked.
Zane nodded.
"That's fast," Shelby muttered, half to himself. "Alright. Let's try something else."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch filled with rings. From it, he took out ten and was about to place them on Zane when—
"Wait," Zane said, raising a hand. "How many rings are left?"
Shelby blinked. "Well, I've got a hundred on me. Two got destroyed—they were faulty. You're wearing four now. That leaves us with… a hundred and four."
Zane's eyes didn't waver. "Give me all of them."
Shelby's expression froze for a second before twisting into a smirk. "You're not serious."
Zane didn't respond.
"Kid… don't be greedy. It took me two months just to get used to 50 of these rings. You've been training for two days. If you rush this—"
"Forget it," Zane turned, heading back to the treadmill without another word.
Shelby sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Ah, this kid. He's going to be a pain in my neck.
"Alright, wait!" Shelby called out. "If you're ready to risk it… I'll give them to you. But remember—whatever happens, it's your choice. Not my recommendation. Don't go blaming me when you implode."
With a flick of his wrists, he dug into both coat pockets and began tossing the metallic rings onto the floor like they were peas for pigeons.
Zane crouched, picking up four of them with a calm, practiced motion. "Yes. Whatever happens… it's on me."
He infused his mana into each ring. This time, he was close enough to observe the process more clearly—the intricate sigils etched onto the rings shimmered with multi-colored light as they activated, their magical nature responding to his energy.
One by one, he pressed the rings onto his right arm. Like before, they expanded and snapped into place, coiling tightly around his biceps and forearm.
The weight hit instantly.
His knees bent slightly. Muscles tensed. A flash of strain crossed his face—but he didn't fall.
Forty more kilograms. That makes eighty total now. Let's go again.
Shelby watched him in silence, his arms crossed, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He's got guts, I'll give him that. But this isn't about fitness anymore. This is the path of someone trying to defy the natural order… and maybe—just maybe—rewrite it.
Without hesitation, Zane began infusing mana into the rings one by one, placing them all around his body.
After attaching thirty-six, he paused—realizing with a scowl that he was running out of wearable space.
Shelby chuckled, stepping forward.
"Need a hand? Just ask," he offered, stopping beside him. "Though… before that, want to see how I managed to wear all one hundred of mine?"
Zane nodded, squinting. "Sure. I've been wondering. I don't even see any rings on you."
"That's because I had them buried into my body," Shelby said, smiling faintly. "Into the muscle. Around the bones."
As he spoke, a heavy mist of mana surged from his body. Slowly, the shimmering outlines of hundreds of rings appeared—embedded deep within his arms, legs, torso, and even his neck.
Zane's eyes widened in disbelief.
"They're fragile," Shelby continued. "Easy to break. So in battle, they get in the way. That's why we can infuse them with mana and let them merge into the body. They won't block blood flow, won't rupture vessels. Instead, they bond to you like an extension of your own bone."
Zane swallowed. "And… that's safe?"
Shelby smirked. "If it wasn't, I'd be dead already."
Nodding, Zane shut his eyes and focused. Mana surged from within. One by one, the rings already on his body shimmered with glyphs, responding to his will. With newfound control, he resized them slightly—just enough to let them sink beneath the skin.
Pain flared, but it was brief. And then… silence. Stillness. The rings had embedded into him, wrapping around his bones like arcane shackles.
He exhaled, sweat forming on his brow.
"Shelby," he asked softly, "why haven't you taken them off? Not even once. Three years… carrying over twelve million kilograms. Isn't that… too much?"
Shelby didn't answer immediately. His gaze drifted toward the window, where distant clouds rolled in slow silence.
"Why should I?" he finally said. "Would you take them off, if you were in my place?"
Zane didn't answer.
"I've gotten used to the weight," Shelby continued. "It's part of me now. I'm afraid if I take them off… I won't know how to move anymore. Besides—"
His expression darkened slightly.
"I haven't met a single opponent worth removing them for. I fight restricted—by choice. And still, no one's come close."
Those words hit Zane hard. It wasn't arrogance. It was truth—undeniable, brutal truth.
If he can do that… why can't I?
Determination burned in his chest.
Without another word, he bent down and picked up more rings.
One after another, he infused them with mana, placing them across his ten fingers… then his toes… then his forearms, calves, shoulders, waist, spine—anywhere he could fit them.
It took time, but eventually—he did it.
All one hundred and four rings.
Shelby gave a slow, theatrical clap. "Good luck with that, hero. Now get your ass on the machine and test that new weight."
Zane tried to move.
He couldn't.
His knees buckled under the pressure, trembling like twigs in a storm. His back screamed in protest. Every muscle in his body felt like it was being crushed beneath an invisible mountain.
It was as if gravity had multiplied tenfold.
Ding!
[Host is wearing a full set of Mythical Arcane Rings.]
[Number of Rings: 108]
[Current Load: 1,080 kg + 32 kg]
He gritted his teeth, sweat already trickling down his temple.
From the side, Shelby watched with that ever-infuriating grin. "Need a hand?"
Zane whispered through clenched teeth, "Get lost. It's just a ton. Nothing more."
Had anyone else dared say that to Shelby, they'd be eating dirt within seconds. But Zane? Shelby just smiled wider, clearly enjoying the show.
That smug face was so punchable it made Zane's fists twitch—but he restrained himself. After all, it would be suicidal to attack a man literally hauling the weight of three hundred lorries with a casual smirk.
Still… I have to move.
He clenched his jaw and reached deep into his mana reserves. A golden aura burst around him as he activated Divine Radiance.
Then, focusing every ounce of will, he muttered, "Luminous Step."
A flash of light ignited beneath his feet. The crushing pressure didn't disappear, but it shifted—redistributed just enough for him to take a breath.
He moved.
To him, it felt like running.
To anyone watching, he was just stumbling like a toddler taking his first steps—awkward, shaky, and painfully slow.
But he didn't care.
Each step was a victory.
Each step was defiance.
He reached the treadmill and planted one foot on it. The surface hummed to life.
He hoisted himself up.
And then—the hardest workout of his life began.
The belt rolled beneath his feet, steadily accelerating. Every movement sent tremors through his bones. Sweat poured down his face in rivers. His lungs felt like they were inhaling molten lead.
But he kept going.
And Shelby, arms crossed, simply watched from the sidelines.
No advice. No comments. Just quiet observation—like a master watching his student climb a mountain with bare hands.
Because this wasn't about speed.
It wasn't about stats.
It was about will.