I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod-Chapter 77: Training Begins Again
Chapter 77: Training Begins Again
The golden evening light bathed Nalanda Academy as Aamir and his friends returned from the Royal Palace. Despite the long journey and the weight of the day’s events, Aamir’s pace didn’t slow. His boots echoed sharply against the marble hallway as he and Seenu made their way toward Master Haider Ali’s office.
Outside the door, Seenu glanced at him. "You sure he’s in the mood?"
Aamir nodded. "Doesn’t matter. We can’t afford to wait."
He knocked once, firmly, and the door creaked open.
Inside, Haider Ali sat at his desk, flipping through a thick manual filled with diagrams. His silver-rimmed glasses rested low on his nose, and the room was dim except for a single desk lamp casting long shadows across the books and scrolls.
Aamir stepped forward, chin high. "Master," he said, voice steady. "From tomorrow, can we resume our training?"
As they stood outside Haider Ali’s office, Aamir felt a strange pressure in the air. Even after all this time, facing Master Haider made him instinctively straighten his posture. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, the legendary instructor sat behind a mountain of scrolls, sipping tea in silence.
Haider Ali looked up slowly, his eyes narrowing—not in irritation, but deep thought. The silence stretched for a few seconds before he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
"The World Tournament is only thirteen days away," he said at last. "You’ll have just ten days of uninterrupted training."
His gaze sharpened. "Make each of them matter."
He leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. "And remember — the World Tournament is not just about strength. You’ll be up against people trained to kill, deceive, and manipulate. You’ll need more than brute force."
Seenu swallowed hard. "Understood, Master."
"Good. You’ve both grown, but don’t get cocky," Haider added, eyes briefly glinting with something unreadable. "You still have weaknesses. I’ll make sure to drag them out."
Aamir’s jaw tightened. "We will, sir. We’ll be in the training room at dawn."
Haider gave a small nod. "Don’t come to me with excuses. You asked for this."
Aamir bowed lightly. "Understood."
They left the room without another word. The air felt lighter, but the weight of responsibility hung even heavier on Aamir’s shoulders.
The hallway lights flickered slightly as Aamir and Seenu stepped into the boys’ dormitory wing. The familiar scent of old wood and disinfectant greeted them, along with the muffled sound of laughter and a nearby shower running.
Back at the dormitory, the atmosphere was quieter than usual. Aamir pushed open the door to his room and found Raj sprawled on his bed, scrolling through his device, while Kunal sat at the desk flipping through a dense book on elemental theory.
"Hey guys," Aamir greeted, dropping his bag. "I’m heading for a quick shower. After that, I’ll check out the technique the king gave me."
Raj stretched with a yawn. "Sounds intense. I’m crashing early—Dharam and I have sparring drills in the morning."
"Same," Kunal said without looking up. "My brain’s fried. Good luck."
Steam curled from the bathroom door minutes later, and soon Aamir emerged, refreshed and focused. Dressed in his training gear, he walked briskly through the corridors of Nalanda, his footsteps guided by purpose.
As he neared the training wing, a group of students passed him, their conversations halting briefly. One of them whispered, "Hey, that’s Aamir. They cleared the Royal Assessment in just two days."
Aamir didn’t acknowledge them. He stepped into one of the private simulation rooms and selected Practice Mode.
The chamber shimmered, and the sleek walls dissolved into a jagged, rocky landscape. Aamir climbed onto a boulder and sat down, his fingers brushing over the cover of the technique manual King Veerendra had handed him earlier—Vital Air Punch.
As he opened the book, a sudden crimson glow flared in front of him—his system interface.
Fighting Technique Detected. Extract contents directly into memory? [Yes/No]
Aamir blinked in disbelief. "Wait... I can just absorb it? No need to read it?"
Lumen’s voice rang out dryly in his mind. "Don’t ask me. I’m just as surprised as you. But hey, take the win."
Shrugging, Aamir tapped Yes.
The book hovered in front of him, glowing faintly. A gentle hum filled the air before it settled back into his hands.
You have successfully extracted the technique.
Skill Acquired: Vital Air Punch (Lv. 1)
Rank: A (Can Grow)
View technique details? [Yes/No]
Aamir tapped Yes.
A sudden rush hit him like lightning. A thousand nerve endings fired at once, and he felt his muscle memory reshaping in real time.
Do you want to learn the technique? [Yes/No]
He grinned. "Obviously!" and confirmed.
A sudden rush hit him like lightning. A thousand nerve endings fired at once, and he felt his muscle memory reshaping in real time. He gasped as his muscles twitched involuntarily. His hand moved on its own, mimicking the motion of a punch before he could stop it. Something was being carved into his body—not physically, but as instinct. And When it finally stopped...
You have learned the technique successfully.
Job Class Level Up: Martial Combatant (Lv. 2)
He staggered back a step. "That’s it? Just like that?"
"That’s why your IQ is low," Lumen snorted. "Try it before questioning it, genius."
Aamir walked up to a nearby rock, clenched his fist, and exhaled slowly. He let the memory of the technique guide him—his posture adjusted, his breathing slowed, and his arm moved in a perfect arc.
With half strength, he launched the punch.
A brief silence followed.
"Huh? Nothing hap—"
"Look again," Lumen interrupted.
Aamir’s eyes widened. The rock didn’t shatter outward—it imploded. Cracks spiraled inward until the whole thing collapsed into a fine pile of dust.
Aamir stared in awe. "It destroys from the inside?"
"That’s the point. Now imagine what it does with full power."
Aamir’s grin widened. "I love this system."
He wiped sweat from his brow, still buzzed from the sensation of learning a whole new style in seconds. But a voice inside him—a cautious voice—reminded him: learning it was one thing. Applying it under pressure was another.
Without delay, he switched to Battle Mode and selected the highest setting:
Eclipseron Crucible (Expert Difficulty)
The gravity that once nearly crushed him now barely felt like resistance. Master Haider’s training paid off, he thought, rolling his shoulders.
The terrain shifted again—this time into a deep, ominous forest. Shadows danced between twisted trees. The moment he took a stance, glowing eyes began to appear between the trunks.
"Let’s go."
The simulated forest was eerily realistic — every rustle in the leaves made his instincts scream. One beast, fur bristling with shadow-like tendrils, snarled and lunged forward.
Aamir moved fluidly—one punch to the jaw and the creature burst from within, disintegrating before it even hit the ground.
Aamir stepped back in shock, lowering his fist. "I didn’t even channel full strength..." he whispered. The punch hadn’t just hit—it had resonated inside the beast like a vibration, rupturing it from within.
He advanced through the simulation, carving a path through enemies with surgical precision. Then the foliage parted to reveal a hulking, armored creature—a high-tier simulation beast.
It charged again, heavier and faster than the others. Aamir ducked, barely dodging a claw swipe that tore through the bark of a nearby tree.
"Alright, big guy," he muttered. "Let’s see how you like this."
He pivoted, channeled his breath, and landed a low blow to the beast’s gut.
The creature stumbled—but didn’t fall. Its eyes glowed red.
"Okay," Aamir said, exhaling. "This one’s got a second wind."
He danced around its strikes, weaving through trees, using footwork learned from Master Haider. Then, with a roar of his own, he drove the Vital Air Punch straight into the monster’s core. It detonated inwards and dissolved into light.
Aamir exhaled. "This technique... is insane."
He ended the simulation and exited the chamber. The hallway felt colder now, the academy quieter in the night.
Tomorrow, he thought, the real grind begins.
Next Morning...
The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the academy’s training sector was already humming with low energy.
Aamir woke before the alarm, something sharp thrumming in his chest. The window showed a soft pre-dawn glow. He dressed silently, every movement methodical—his mind still replaying the beast’s destruction from the night before.
Inside the special private training room, Seenu was already stretching, his breaths steady, his form precise.
Aamir entered quietly, nodding at him. "Early as ever."
"Had to be," Seenu said. "Can’t fall behind now."
Aamir began his warm-up—push-ups, squats, rapid shadowboxing. Sweat glistened on their brows even before the real training began.
The door creaked open. Haider Ali’s boots echoed across the stone floor as he entered like a silent storm. He said nothing at first—just looked at both of them, his gaze sharp as blades.
Then, a rare flicker of approval crossed his face.
"So... you’re both here already," he said. "Good. Then let’s begin our training."
He clapped once. The air pressure shifted. The real training had begun.
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