The wooden statue shook with every strike he landed upon it, small chips of wood breaking away and scattering to the ground like dried leaves in a storm.
Lloyd continued, throwing blow after blow at the erected wooden dummy. He didn't turn on his integration; instead, he relied solely on his physical strength. And yet, even without enhancement, his power was astounding—equivalent to that of an early Summoner's integration.
He had trained his body to the brink of inhuman potential. His muscles, honed by unyielding discipline, moved with precision and raw force. His fists cracked against the dummy, and still he kept going.
Hours passed. Sweat poured from his forehead, soaking his shirt. He finally stopped, his knuckles bruised and slightly reddened. His chest rose and fell heavily as he leaned into the battered dummy, exhaling a deep breath from his lungs.
His mind drifted once more to what Goldrics had told them... Project Dark Wing.
