Chapter 46: Chapter 39: Combat Skill [Flowing Slash]
The next morning, as the first ray of sunlight stread through the window lattice, Roland slowly opened his eyes.
He let out a long breath and swung himself deftly out of the wooden bed.
’This feeling...’
Feeling his unusually clear mind and brimming Spirit, Roland couldn’t help but contrast it with the bone-deep exhaustion he’d felt after yesterday’s bloody battle in the forest.
He stretched his limbs thoughtfully, a faint smile gracing his lips.
’Now that the Secret Silver Body Tempering Technique is at Full Level, it seems my mind has beco clearer and my stamina recovers much faster. However...’
Feeling the burning hunger in his stomach, Roland shook his head in resignation.
’The hunger is also much more intense than before...’
With that thought, Roland got dressed, quickly washed up, and pushed open the door to his room.
A damp morning breeze blew in his face.
Once his eyes had adjusted to the sowhat harsh sunlight, Roland saw two tall, thin servants standing right outside his door.
He keenly noticed that tiny dewdrops still clung to the tips of their hair, glistening in the morning sun, and their collars were also slightly damp.
Clearly, they had been standing outside his door for quite so ti.
"Mr. Roland, you’re awake."
One of the servants bowed respectfully.
He spoke before Roland had a chance to open his mouth.
"Young Master Dalko wanted to co himself, but his injuries are too severe. He sent us to receive you instead."
The other servant stepped forward at the perfect mont, carrying a tray laden with an exquisite al.
"I presu you haven’t had breakfast? Young Master Dalko specially instructed that you should take your ti and et him after your al."
’Mr. Roland?’
This sudden honorific brought a slight smile to Roland’s lips.
He stepped aside to clear the doorway and said in a calm tone.
"Very well. I’ll have breakfast first before going to see him."
Upon hearing this, one of the servants imdiately carried the tray inside and neatly arranged the food on the wooden table.
"Do you require
to wait on you while you dine?"
When Roland waved his hand, declining the offer, the servant bowed respectfully again.
"Then please enjoy your al, Mr. Roland."
With that, he exited the room. He and his companion took up positions on either side of the doorway, standing silently with their heads bowed like a pair of statues.
The al was much more lavish than he had imagined.
Soft, white, freshly baked bread gave off an enticing aroma of wheat, and next to it was a dish of rich, golden butter.
A large piece of roasted venison had a tantalizingly seared surface, its juices slowly weeping from the grain.
Two river fish, pan-fried to perfection, had crispy skin and were garnished with a few sprigs of bright green herbs.
But the centerpiece was a bowl of steaming, creamy vegetable soup.
Tender seasonal vegetables peeked out from the creamy white broth, which gave off an aroma blending rich cream with the light sweetness of vegetables.
A breakfast of this standard would have been impressive even in his past life.
The als in the apprentice hall, ant rely to fill one’s stomach, were not even in the sa league.
His knife and fork moved deftly, and in just a few monts, the plate was clean.
Roland savored every bite of the long-awaited delicacy, even using a piece of bread to wipe the bowl clean of the very last drop of soup.
He let out a contented sigh.
Savoring the lingering flavor in his mouth, Roland let out a long breath, stood up, patted his full stomach, and nodded with satisfaction.
He then walked out the door and said.
"Let’s go. Take
to see Young Master Dalko."
"Of course, Mr. Roland. Please follow
this way."
While walking along the winding gravel path of the manor, Roland suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure.
"Captain John!"
Hearing the call, the old soldier slowly turned, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes.
He let out a long yawn and shuffled closer, his steps heavy with fatigue.
"Up so early? You’re going to..."
"I’m going to see Young Master Dalko. Are you...?"
Noticing the unconcealable weariness on the other man’s face, Roland asked with concern.
"Didn’t get much sleep last night?"
"Rest?"
John gave a bitter smile and rubbed his sore eyes.
"The Lord Baron sent us to search that forest overnight. We just got back."
"Find anything?"
John curled his lip and jutted his chin to the side.
A few Guards could be seen struggling to carry a wooden crate over.
The crate was filled with broken weapons, shattered Armor fragnts, and a blood-stained white cloak.
The sun emblem of the Fiery Sun Church was clearly embroidered on it.
"Besides a forest floor littered with goblin corpses, all we found was this pile of scrap."
John’s lips twitched in a sneer.
"Who knows what the folks from the Fiery Sun Church were doing out there? Couldn’t have been preaching their faith to the goblins, now could they? Ha!"
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Anyway, I’ve still got things to do. I’m taking off."
"Goodbye, Captain John."
Roland frowned as he watched John walk away.
The man’s undisguised contempt for the Fiery Sun Church was identical to Dalko’s.
’It seems the Fiery Sun Church isn’t very popular around here...’
ntally filing that observation away, Roland continued to follow the servant.
After a short while, a cluster of large buildings ca into view.
This was the first ti he had truly set foot in the heart of the noble estate.
Looking up, he saw an exquisite fountain shimring in the Dawn Light.
A marble statue of a water deity held a water jug, from which clear water flowed in an elegant arc.
Behind the fountain, a wide set of stairs led to the main residence, flanked by quaint stone lamp posts, their shades carved with intricate, ornate lines.
The servant led Roland up the steps, and the heavy oak doors opened inward silently.
The floor of the foyer was covered with a dark red Persian rug, so soft that one’s footsteps were almost inaudible.
Portraits of past family mbers hung on the walls.
Each was in a gilded fra, the subjects, whether standing or sitting, all bore the reserved expression unique to the nobility.
Past the foyer was a long corridor.
Sunlight stread through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns of light and shadow on the carpet.
Various trophies were displayed on both sides of the corridor.
A jewel-encrusted sword, exquisitely crafted Armor, and even the massive mounted head of a Magical Beast.
Its glass eyes seed to gleam with an eerie light.
"Please wait a mont."
The servant stopped before a carved wooden door and knocked gently.
"Lord Baron, Mr. Roland is here."
A low voice answered from within the room.
The servant pushed the door open and gestured for Roland to enter.
Inside the parlor, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the dark, solid wood furniture.
A huge family banner hung on the wall above the fireplace, flanked by several ancient-looking artifacts that glead with a mysterious luster in the sunlight.
Baron Fosling sat upright behind a large mahogany desk, maintaining the calm smile characteristic of a nobleman.
Behind him, Dalko stood leaning on an oak cane, his face slightly pale.
"Hello, Mr. Roland."
The Baron’s voice was gentle and magnetic.
"Lord Baron, you flatter ."
Roland took a step forward and bowed slightly.
"Just call
Roland."
When Roland raised his head, revealing his handso face, Baron Fosling raised an eyebrow imperceptibly.
Unlike the gazes of ordinary commoners—a mixture of awe and timidness—the young man’s eyes were clear and calm. He was neither servile nor overbearing, but possessed a tranquil composure.
The composed deanor revealed in his gaze made it seem as if he were not standing before a high and mighty noble, but an equal.
Such a rare attitude made even the worldly Baron inwardly surprised.
"Dalko told
yesterday that you saved his life, but he was rather unclear about the specific details, so..."
Baron Fosling picked up the porcelain cup beside him and took a light sip of black tea.
"Would you mind recounting the events for ?"
"Of course, Lord Baron."
Roland gave a slight nod and began to recount what he had witnessed in the forest the day before.
Including the full battle between the Fiery Sun Church and the goblins.
Roland felt there was no need to conceal the details.
For one thing, John must have already reported his findings in the forest to Baron Fosling.
For another, given Dalko’s personality, their relationship, and Roland’s own status as a Blacksmith Apprentice, he and Baron Fosling were effectively on the sa side.
If hearing this made Baron Fosling heighten his vigilance and take early precautions, or even thoroughly investigate the matter from start to finish, it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Roland, given his limited information.
Of course, Roland did omit one detail: that the Blood-colored goblin could use Fla Magic.
He only said that the goblins were powerful, and the Warriors of the Fiery Sun Church were locked in a desperate struggle with them.
"The Fiery Sun Church... goblins..."
Baron Fosling’s long fingers tapped rhythmically on the oak desk, making a crisp tapping sound.
"You’re saying they were fighting over sothing... the remains of a giant creature?"
"About that..."
Roland frowned slightly, recalling the scene from yesterday, and after a short pause, answered cautiously.
"Lord Baron, I was too far away at the ti. I could only barely make out that it seed to be a skeleton."
"I see."
Baron Fosling nodded slowly, his brow gradually furrowing.
He lowered his head and fell into deep thought. The parlor imdiately fell silent, with only the faint sound of their breathing echoing in the empty hall.
After a long while, having co to no conclusion, Baron Fosling finally looked up, a gentle smile returning to his face.
"In any case, Roland... you saved Dalko’s life."
"As for other rewards, I’m sure Dalko won’t be stingy, and regarding the promise he made you..."
As he spoke, Baron Fosling opened a desk drawer and took out a slightly yellowed Sheepskin Scroll.
"This is a copy of Flowing Slash, a Combat Skill that has been passed down in our family for hundreds of years."
"I will give you one month to study it. After one month, I hope you can return it completely intact. Of course..."
"I do not wish for this copy to be read by anyone other than you. Is that acceptable?"
After he finished speaking, Roland keenly noticed Dalko’s brow furrow almost imperceptibly.
Although he was a little puzzled, Roland still stepped forward and respectfully received the heavy Sheepskin Scroll with both hands.
Although he had only heard a little about Combat Skills before, the rumors alone were enough for Roland to understand how precious such techniques were.
He had saved Dalko in the forest mainly for his own self-preservation; obtaining a Combat Skill was a completely unexpected bonus.
With his current status, it would normally be impossible for him to co into contact with a legacy of this level.
Therefore, let alone a month, even just ten days to study it would be an imnse gift.
"I will follow your instructions, Lord Baron."
Seeing that there was only pure joy in Roland’s eyes, with no hint of greed, Baron Fosling nodded in satisfaction.
"Alright, Roland... if you need anything else in the future, you can go directly to Dalko."
"I understand, Lord Baron."
Although he still wanted to ask Dalko about the Adventurer’s Guild, sensing the implied dismissal in the Baron’s words, Roland tactfully took a step back and bowed respectfully.
"Then, please allow
to take my leave."
After receiving the Baron’s nod, Roland left the parlor under the servant’s guidance.
But after he left, the sound of an argunt could be heard from the parlor.
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