"Huff… huff… hufff…"

Aron was shirtless, his muscles tensing as he pushed through another set of push-ups.

The floor beneath him creaked with each repetition.

Creak...

The door to his room opened slowly.

A middle-aged man stepped inside, wearing gray armor engraved with the symbol of a sun crossed by a sword.

The dull metal gleamed faintly in the morning light.

Aron didn't even glance his way.

He continued doing his push-ups while muttering under his breath.

"...500,048… 500,049… 500,050…"

The soldier frowned and looked toward the maid standing by the door.

"What's he doing?" he asked, his tone half curious.

"I don't know," the maid replied, expression blank.

"Maybe it's how humans increase their strength. He's been doing that every morning for the past three days."

The soldier shook his head. "It's time to leave for your training, human."

"...500,100."

Aron stopped, pushing himself up to his feet.

Not a single bead of sweat glistened on his body.

He glanced at the maid who had been guarding him for the past three days, without eating, drinking, or sleeping once.

'These people really don't rest…' he thought.

In Solara, Aron could go days without sleep or food thanks to his cultivation.

But ever since arriving here, his body felt like it had reverted to a normal human's, and worse, his hunger was even stronger than before he'd awakened and was a normal person.

He'd tried to strike up a conversation with the maid, hoping to learn more about this world, but all his attempts had hit a brick wall.

She never spoke unless absolutely necessary and always looked at him like he was some kind of idiot.

The only time she ever moved was when she brought him food, bland, tasteless meat that barely kept him alive.

Aron ate it anyway, since it was better than starving.

He'd been tempted to use Space Storage to summon something more appetizing but decided against it.

'Better not show too much before I know where I am,' he thought. 'When in Rome, act like the Romans.'

He dusted off his pants and followed the soldier out of the room.

As they walked, Aron noticed the looks people gave him, cold, dismissive, as if they were looking down at something filthy.

For the first time since arriving, he was leaving the room he had assumed was a mansion.

But as he walked outside, his jaw nearly dropped.

What he thought was a mansion was actually just one wing of a colossal medieval-style palace, towering spires, stone arches, and banners fluttering in the wind.

The sheer scale of it made even him feel small.

Aron had seen grand palaces back in Solara, but this place was on a different level altogether.

He didn't even bother hiding his amazement as he was led through the courtyard.

Soon, they arrived before a large carriage drawn by two sleek black horses.

Their eyes glowed faintly, and their hooves left shimmering prints on the cobblestone.

'Yup,' Aron thought, staring at the scene. 'Definitely a medieval world.'

"Get in," the soldier ordered, pointing toward the carriage door.

Aron opened it, and immediately saw that it was packed full of people.

Young men and women, all around his age, squeezed shoulder to shoulder.

Every single one of them turned to stare the moment he entered.

Ignoring their gazes, Aron stepped inside and found a spot to sit down.

The soldier outside shut the door, and soon the carriage began to move.

The air inside was heavy with silent tension, until one boy with short, sharp hair and had a face that only a mother could love.

He wore a robe that looked more expensive than the others, and his tone practically dripped with disdain.

"And what is a human doing here?" he sneered.

Aron's eyes swept across the group.

All of them wore similar expressions of disgust and disdain.

Unlike the guards and maid in the castle, he could feel these people's energy radiating, different from what he was used to in Solara, and he could tell each one was stronger than him.

But strength had never been enough to make Aron care.

He'd had enough of this since the moment he woke up.

Being manhandled, insulted, and called "human" like it was an insult, when they all looked perfectly human themselves, was pushing his patience to the limit.

"Says an ugly toad," Aron shot back flatly, locking eyes with the boy.

The entire carriage burst into laughter.

A few even clapped, unable to hold back their amusement.

The boy's expression darkened instantly.

His face twisted with rage as he shot to his feet.

"If you've got guts, repeat what you just said, you filthy human!"

Aron smirked and stood up as well, meeting the boy's glare without flinching.

"Looks like we've got a fighter here," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Since you didn't get it the first time, let me spell it out for you clearly."

The others leaned in, curious to see how far this crazy human would go.

"I…" Aron raised a brow, taking a deliberate step forward.

"...said…"

"...you…"

"...are…"

"...u-g-l-y!"

...

..

.

Author note:

If you've read this far, then it's clear you're loving the journey just as much as I enjoy writing it.

But here's the truth: stories don't grow on their own. They grow because of you, the readers who stand beside them. And on Webnovel, your Powerstones, Golden ticket and engagement are the heartbeat that keeps a novel alive. Each support you cast isn't just a number on a chart. It's a signal that you want more, that you believe Aron's story deserves to climb higher, to reach more people, to carve its name into the rankings where it belongs.

Your encouragement decides the pace of this journey. Together, we can push this story through the chaos, step by step, one stone, one ticket, one chapter at a time.

So thank you, for every stone, every ticket, every moment you've given this story. You are the reason Aron's world lives and grows.

Let's walk through the apocalypse together.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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