Bab 64: The Tournament of Chosens

Turai woke up before dawn, the soft light of the early morning barely peeking over the horizon. The room was quiet except for the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards. Gareth, still sound asleep in the room next door, wouldn't be stirring for at least half an hour. Turai's body was sore, not from exhaustion but from the habitual discipline he had instilled in himself over the years.

He rolled out of bed, his muscles flexing as he stood and stretched. Turai moved to the center of the room, silently beginning his usual routine of exercises. He did a hundred push-ups, each one perfectly controlled, his chest grazing the floor with every descent. Then came the sit-ups, his abs contracting with each motion, followed by a five-minute plank that left his body trembling slightly from the tension.