The sound of heavy breathing filled the small chamber.

There was a gentle, almost mechanical hum, followed by the sound of sizzling. Like droplets of water hitting hot coal.

In reality, the truth was not very far from such a picture painted.

Enter, Nero...

A young, aspiring warrior, candidate to join the forces of the Church's Order of the Crimson Crucible.

Within this small chamber, Nero breathes heavily. His arms strain against the weight of his body as he pushes against the hot, almost molten floor.

His flesh is singed, and the bitter smell of burn rises into his nostrils.

And yet, his body does not burn.

Nero's face is twisted in silent agony. But naught is what he does.

Because he is bereaved of choice.

'Fuck my life...' Nero curses in his mind.

It has been three days since his loss against the Templar. Lyon had said his punishment was to spend three days in the steam chamber.

By the end of the first day, he had questioned every single decision that had brought him to that point.

The steam chamber was a place used to train the endurance and stamina of the Templars. Within it, everywhere was hot. The stone radiated so much heat. And yet, they did not burn him despite his skin being scalded red, and then white.

The under of his feet had begun to develop blisters at first as well, but even those had mellowed away, leaving his flesh numb and sallowed.

In the end, by the end of the second day, he had lost all sensation and his mind was in shambles. This, he did the only thing he could think of.

Use the pain as motivation and drive.

Imagining the damned bastard, Lyon's face as the wall, he exercised his body and drew upon his limitless potential. Due to the constant steam rolling across his naked body, he had passed out due to overheating and exhaustion.

But of course, his relentless physique would not let him go out so easily.

When he arose, he persisted, fully committed to his goal to push his body to the absolute limits.

That battle... had pissed him off.

He had truly enraged, not by his inability to do anything against an eighth feet tall hulking mass of metal.

No, that was not it.

He was angered by his lack of skill and discipline. Something told him even without the armor and the weapons, he would have stood no chances against the Templar Sergeant either way.

Was this how he was going to face that damned fiend, Orpheus?

He would be torn to shreds.

Pushing against his trembling arms, Nero cried out in pain as his muscles twitched.

Finally unable to bear it anymore, he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

There was an even longer sizzle as his sweat and steam covered body bade contact with the hot ground.

Nero winced in pain and he slowly sat up.

Right now, he had shriveled by about a third of his body weight, most of the moisture in him already sweated out.

Nero looked at his wet but boney fingers,

"Any more than this, and I really will die."

Luckily for him, his transgressions were not enough to warrant such a fate.

There was a knock on the metal door that led to the enclosed chamber.

Nero slowly raised his gaze to see the door push back by an inch.

Almost immediately, there was the sharp sound of a hiss as air rushed into the chamber. Already intimately connected with the heat, Nero felt it seep away as air was returned to the room.

At the door, Lyon stood, looking down on him with a calm gaze.

Nero look up at him with clear displeasure on his face, but Lyon was not sympathetic.

He threw a pair of clothes at him,

"Get dressed. And apply the ointment to your burns."

Nero paused and looked down at the clothes that had been thrown at him. Seeing a bottle of an amber colored liquid, Nero's nose twitched. He pulled the cork and took a sniff.

His nose immediately wrinkled,

"What is that?!"

Lyon shrugged, "Why sniff it? It's not a rose petal."

He turned around, "Get dressed quickly."

Nero sighed. First, he put rubbed the ointment into his hands then gently applied them on the spots that can bee scalded into the rather terrifying color of pale white.

Once he was done, he quickly threw on the dull colored clothes before limping out of the chamber.

The Steam Chambers weren't meant to be a torture device. Rather, they were located in a particular wing of the Red House, which was the name of the garrison he was placed in as Nero had learned.

They were training instruments used by the Templars. The steam was laced with weak currents of Ein Sof, something Nero found rather beneficial. However, to any other person, it had the potential to be rather catastrophic if abused. This was why while one could stay in one of the chambers for longer than three days, doing so was not advised.

'Juet when I was starting to get a hang of it...' Nero thought to himself as he followed behind Lyon.

"From now on, your physical combat training will be handled by Sergeant Vane."

Nero frowned, "Physical combat training?"

Lyon nodded, "Indeed."

He paused for a moment then added slowly, "At the moment, your physicality is being held down by limiters I put in place. This will make your training even more effective. "

Nero sniffled, "Yeah, I figured as much. But why would placing chains on me be of any use? Why not let me fight at my fullest?"

Lyon chuckled as he turned to stare at Nero,

"There are multiple reasons why, Nero. The most important one is I don't want you to trash the damn place. This place might seem grand, but it is older than even the Red Mother herself. Even the Blizters aren't brought to full power within the grounds."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.