As the second batch of students stepped forward to lift the dumbbells, Leon's eyes immediately locked onto the bulky student —
the one who looked like he could bench-press a horse without breaking a sweat.
The guy had the most serious face Leon had ever seen, staring down at the dumbbells like they had personally insulted his ancestors.
With a solemn grunt, the bulky boy bent down and picked up the weights.
And then it happened.
"Eyaaaaaah~..."
The sound that burst from the boy's mouth was not the expected grunt of exertion.
No.
It was high-pitched. It was dramatic.
It was, horrifyingly, almost exactly like a young woman dramatically moaning during an opera performance.
The room froze.
Students lifting weights froze mid-rep.
Spotters stared, mouths agape.
A dumbbell clattered to the ground somewhere.
Leon blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating.
A kid nearby whispered under his breath, "Is this... some forbidden lifting technique?"
Another muttered in awe, "Bro's pulling out the ultimate weapon..."
The other boys swayed on their feet as if they had been punched in the gut.
Each time the bulky boy lifted the dumbbells, another "Eyaaaaaah~" echoed through the gym, bouncing off the walls like a ghostly banshee cry.
It was devastating.
Caelir, who moments ago was struggling but still holding on, suddenly looked like he was trying to lift a mountain.
His arms trembled violently, his face twisted between confusion and despair.
It wasn't just his strength leaving him — it was as if that sound was actively draining his soul.
Even his spotter, supposed to help him, stood there frozen, wide-eyed, betraying him completely.
Meanwhile, Caelir's knees buckled under the weight as he desperately mouthed, "Save yourselves..."
Leon could feel his own knees giving out.
His spirit was under siege.
His very essence felt under attack.
Even Garrick — mighty, unshakable Senior Garrick — who had been casually curling heavy weights on the side, suddenly dropped the dumbbells with a loud THUD.
He turned his head stiffly, like a broken automaton, to stare at the bulky boy with the shell-shocked expression of a man witnessing a crime against humanity.
Yet the bulky boy, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was causing, continued to lift with pure, terrifying dedication.
His serious face never wavered.
In fact, if anything, he seemed empowered by the horrific noises escaping his lips.
"Eyaaaaaah~ Eyaaaaaah~"
He even struck poses between reps, veins bulging and face noble, his voice soaring to new heights of unsettling beauty.
Leon, gasping for sanity, muttered under his breath,
"At this point... is he lifting weights or summoning demons?"
Beside him, Caelir dramatically slumped against a wall, sliding down like a defeated soldier, mouthing silent words of surrender.
By the time the bulky boy finished his set — with a final, triumphant, soul-crushing "Eyaaaaaaah~!" —
the entire gym resembled a battlefield.
Boys lay collapsed on the floor.
Spotters sat hunched, rocking back and forth.
Senior Garrick looked like he had aged ten years in five minutes.
And yet, the bulky boy simply set the dumbbells down with perfect form, wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, and nodded solemnly to himself.
As if this were nothing more than another righteous day of noble training.
Leon stared at him with awe and horror, as if beholding an ancient cursed weapon that had been unearthed by mistake.
Finally, Garrick managed to pull himself together — just barely — and strode over stiffly to the bulky boy.
Looking at the serious expression on the boy's face — after performing the most shameless act Garrick had ever witnessed — he was left speechless.
After a heavy pause, Garrick cleared his throat and asked, "What's your name?"
The bulky boy stood proud and replied, "Brugo."
Garrick blinked. Somehow, the name felt... fitting.
Taking a slow breath, Garrick asked cautiously, "Do you truly want to become a swordmaster?"
Brugo, keeping his expression firm and noble, replied with utmost sincerity,
"Senior, it's my childhood dream to become a swordmaster. I've trained for years with all my heart to achieve this dream."
For a brief, fleeting moment, Garrick was moved.
Such pure dedication... such genuine passion...
But then the memory of that sound came crashing back into his mind like a tidal wave.
He visibly flinched.
And then, horrifyingly, a vivid image flashed through his brain —
an image of Brugo, clad in shining armor, charging valiantly into battle, sword swinging high...
while unleashing earth-shattering Eyaaaaaah~ cries at his enemies.
Garrick shuddered violently.
Cold sweat broke out across his back.
"Could... could I even fight him if he did that during battle?" Garrick thought, horrified.
"No... No normal man could withstand such psychological warfare."
Trying to erase the cursed image from his mind, Garrick forced a dry laugh and awkwardly patted Brugo's massive shoulder.
"Good... good. You're in," he said, his voice cracking slightly.
Brugo nodded seriously and walked off to sit down among the others, proud and dignified.
Meanwhile, Garrick exhaled heavily, swearing to himself to forget everything he just witnessed... if such a thing was even possible.
After that cursed incident, Garrick mercifully gave all the other students a second chance at lifting.
Even he knew — no one could possibly be expected to maintain composure after hearing that demonic sound.
Soon enough, the second batch completed their sets — although the air remained unnervingly tense.
Even the students who were only spectating had lost strength just by hearing Brugo's cries, but they somehow endured.
At the end of the test, only seven students were eliminated — a surprisingly high pass rate considering the spiritual trauma everyone had endured.
Leon and Caelir both managed to pass.
Caelir, mercifully given a second attempt after being "sabotaged," managed to scrape through by sheer willpower.
Garrick cleared his throat — an act that now seemed full of PTSD — and addressed the group.
"Now that you've passed the strength test," he announced, trying to regain his Senior dignity,
"you will receive basic training to become swordsmen.
If you continue in this subject through your academic years... you have the chance to become true swordmasters."
He gave them a sharp look, but the memory of Brugo haunted even that.
"Now disperse. Your regular classes will start tomorrow. Be on time."
And with that, Garrick exited the training ground — at a pace far faster than normal.
On his way out, he accidentally remembered Brugo's voice again.
He shuddered.
His walk turned into a full-blown power-walk as he tried desperately to think about anything else —
taxes, paperwork, vegetables — anything but Brugo.
But no matter how hard he tried, deep inside, he knew...
The Eyaaaaaah~ would haunt him forever.