One night had passed inside the flying airship. Jin, who woke up earlier than usual, stood in the vast hall of the boat, facing the window.
Even in the morning, as chilled wind pierced their bodies, the crews kept buzzing enthusiastically, walking back and forth, mopping the floor or window glass.
A vast greenery that stretched endlessly on the land, tainted with thick mist that showed from the morning dew, gave his eyes a pleasant experience in witnessing the world he was currently living in.
He inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with fresh air that enveloped the atmosphere around him.
The clean air pumped his warm blood, coursing through the veins, rejuvenating his groggy mood from waking up.
Slowly, as he felt his heartbeat spike up, Jin closed his eyes and entered his deep consciousness.
Instead of training physically, he pictured an image of himself facing himself, for no one had ever bested him in swordsmanship since the trial.
