Up until the point I entered the formation, I barely held to my consciousness. That was the extend of my exhaustion mixed with the pain of the bruises that the failed hunt left on me.
Yet, the second I was surrounded by mana gushing into my pores, I found the strength to ward this tiredness away.
So I kept on training. Kept on pushing my spear, striving to make each hit just as perfect as it could be.
But there was no denying the state of my body.
The mana managed to revitalize my flesh, but I was still in pretty bad shape. And while I managed to hold on and keep training, it seriously affected just how effective that training could be.
"Finally!" I let out a small shout when I managed to break through the beginner level of my spearmanship job.
It took me exactly one hundred and twenty-four perfect stabs to do it. With how immersed I was in training, it felt as if I only took a few hours to do so...