Perhaps having encountered all sorts of misfortunes along the way, the journey towards The Capital was peaceful the entire way. Every day, Malin would use the telegraph in the carriage to keep in touch with Jiaxi and Zem yer from the Benevolent Church, who followed behind. The forr was responsible for confirming Malin’s location to ensure that the painting didn’t get close to Malin again. According to him, this ti the painting depicted so wolf-shaped Spirits, which were obviously the Greyplain Wolves from the Western Administrative Province—the Benevolent Church’s apprentices killed the most of these creatures each year.
anwhile, the latter would occasionally discuss novel plots with Malin—Zem was a faithful reader of Hols’s detective stories, and when he confird from Jiaxi that Malin was the Author, his face was skewed with rage—because he couldn’t believe such a young kid could write such works and was convinced that Malin was plagiarizing soone else’s glory.
Then Malin brought out Faye, his princess, to vouch for him. She was Malin’s guide to the customs of the Central Administrative Province, and she pointed out several clues she had buried in the novel before—this ti they directly indicated Malin the Author and her as the co-author. After Zem confird this, he imdiately beca a loyal reader of Malin’s.
Upon hearing from Malin that the detective series had co to an end and that the last two volus would be handed over to the National Publishing House after his return, the young man expressed his curiosity about Malin’s subsequent novels, besides feeling a touch of regret.
After discussing it with Faye, Malin decided to let the book about the Alien rot in his hands—because the content was sowhat obscure for the mortals of this world, the plot leaned towards horror, and the genre was science fiction. To avoid certain accidents, it was better not to write it at all.
As for what kind of accidents... Malin thought the Magic Carpet explained it all quite well.
Besides that, Malin couldn’t think of anything else to write, and after discussing with Faye, he decided to take a break from writing for a while.
After all, Malin had already made a na for himself with one book, becoming the trailblazer of the detective novel genre in this world; he felt that he had fulfilled his dream, and what followed was the phase of idly living off royalties like a parasite.
Other than that, Malin only spent his wait practicing swordsmanship—a certain master swordsman was still waiting for him to claim his head.
Instructor Athyst volunteered to spar with Malin after watching him practice alone.
Initially, Malin thought this middle-aged man, who looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly, wasn’t suited to swordplay. But after Malin used a Spell Formation to decrease his own strength, he realized that the instructor indeed had skill with the sword.
Practicing with Instructor Athyst, Malin felt he was improving every day. When he asked why the instructor had never used this skill before, even to teach children at Carterburg, Instructor Athyst gave an answer that sounded regrettable.
"Tis have changed. Firearms are becoming the main force on the battlefield. An apprentice who has received twenty hours of shooting training can easily kill a Bear Goblin ard with a big sword from a distance of over a hundred yards, bringing an end to these barbarians’ competition with us humans. Malin, think about it. I’ve spent fifteen years from the age of five perfecting my swordsmanship, but in the end, this era tells that big swords are outdated."
Instructor Athyst looked lancholic as he said this, "To this day, I have no confidence in blocking bullets with a big sword. How can I teach this diocre skill to children? They would only need twenty hours to learn shooting and easily overpower soone who has practiced with a great sword for over a year... Malin, why do you bother practicing with the great sword then?"
Malin didn’t know what to say; since Instructor Athyst was unaware of certain things, Malin was unsure how he would interpret the situation or whether he would disclose it to anyone else.
So secrets should be kept sealed tight after all.
Seeing the uncertainty in Malin’s heart, Instructor Athyst smiled, "It’s okay, if you don’t want to say it, let’s pretend I never asked. I really like a talent like you. In these three days, you’ve learned quite a few steps and gained a lot of experience. Rember one thing—the swordmaster is like a sharp edge, and the great sword is like a venomous sting."
Five days later, Instructor Athyst declared that Malin had basically mastered all the techniques.
"What you lack now is just the application. Considering you’ll hardly have a chance to use the great sword after you reach The Capital, I recomnd you go to the Combat Arena," Instructor Athyst suggested a path for Malin.
Malin was curious, "Is that the kind of indiscriminate fighting held by the Underground Dark Guild, where life and death are disregarded?"
"What are you thinking? How could the Underground Dark Guild exist in The Capital? Those are just have-nots that can only be found in rural places," Instructor Athyst said with a laugh, overturning Malin’s assumption. "The Combat Arena is hosted jointly by the royal family, the nobles, and the military. There are usually competitions every month, and sotis big nobles will participate in exhibition matches. It’s all lee combat with blunt training swords. Having sparred with you for so long, I’m planning to give it a try when I’m in The Capital. Will you join ?"
Naturally, Malin had no issues. According to Instructor Athyst, the Combat Arena used blunt training swords and had resident Healers, which Malin thought made it feasible.
Hearing that those big nobles were all powerful warriors, and excited by the thought of being able to fully test his own abilities, Malin felt he finally had a place where he could prove himself.
Getting off the carriage roof, Malin placed his training sword on the rack, stretched out his muscles, caught the towel thrown by Clovis, and then stripped off his training clothes to duck into the bath in the back of the carriage.
He took a shower, changed into new clothes, and Malin stepped out to glance at the carriage, "Where are Faye and the others?"
"In the front car, having a mixer with their classmates, she told us to go over too," Clovis said, seeming a bit unhappy, "Malin, I feel... I feel like an outsider, do you think I fit in?"
Malin smiled and reached out to hold the hand of the Bunny Girl, "Of course you fit in, you’re my family."
The Bunny Girl didn’t react at first, but when she caught on, her face imdiately flushed red, and she stamred nonsensically for a while before ultimately being led by Malin to the front carriage—Bill, Jack, and Rose had already started their apprenticeships, they were assigned to the first year by their ntor Athystelk, and of course, they weren’t up for competition yet.
So, Malin had no burdens about bringing the Bunny Girl into the mixer’s carriage.
"Hey, Malin, you’re here! I saw all your practice sessions with ntor Athystelk on the roof lately."
As soon as he entered, Malin heard Logan’s loud voice, and he smiled in response, "It’s always good to have many skills, speaking of which, you look like the organizer, am I right?"
"Of course, I am the most well-connected among the apprentices of the Goddess of Harvest; speaking of which, Malin, we have one more week before we reach The Capital, and I’ve been contacted by soone asking for your help."
"I don’t think my reputation can travel that far." Malin frowned.
"The person said it was Hiddell Van Reynard who referred you," Logan said.
"Hiddell Van Reynard... Who is that?" Malin pondered, realizing he didn’t seem to know him.
It was Clovis who reached out, tugging on Malin’s ear with her cute little paw, "My cousin, you forgot."
"Ah! Now I rember!" Malin really couldn’t rember nas, but as soon as Clovis’s cousin was ntioned, Malin thought of the abandoned factory and his own guest, "So it’s him."
"Right, besides him, there’s also Shelton Brice, they both have already arrived in the Central Administrative Province, and they’re the ones who spread your combat achievents, so soone probably wants to test the waters, after all, they’ve only heard your na, not seen you in person." As Logan said this, he smiled and raised his eyebrows, "2000 bucks, to enter the Underground Ancient City of The Capital, want to check it out?"
"Which floor?" Faye ca over, and with her inquiry, Malin beca quite curious, "Does the floor matter?"
"It does, the first floor is safe, usually open to tourists, from the second floor onwards Spirits exist, but they’re relatively easy to deal with, it’s also where various academies and the Church allow apprentices to get their first taste of blood, the third floor gets dangerous, I think if they want to test the waters, they’d probably go to the fourth floor, where lethal Spirits exist, if it’s the fourth floor, I think 2000 bucks isn’t worth it."
"No problem, let’s just take it as seeing another side of The Capital," Malin assured Faye with a smile, "Besides, since it’s their trial, I doubt their ntors would give them missions they’re certain to die in."
"I think so too, so should we show those country bumpkins from The Capital what’s what, Malin?" Logan asked with a laugh.
"No problem, let’s do it, tell them to have the money ready," Malin said, then turned to console Faye, who although annoyed, eventually forgave him under his teasing and playful pleas, "Alright, alright, but this ti I can’t accompany you down there, I need to go ho once, it’s been years since I’ve been back ho."
"There won’t be anyone coming to fight over you this ti, will there?" Malin asked with a smile, clearly knowing which ho Faye was referring to.
"Who knows, maybe they’ve only heard Malin’s na, not seen Malin in person, maybe soone will grow bold." The girl answered earnestly.
Malin responded, a bit sheepish, "Then I’ll just have to et them at the Combat Arena."
"Before you do that, I think I should invest in The Capital’s funeral services because I feel the mont you start dueling, that business will definitely boom for a while," Logan said, bursting into laughter, and his joke elicited agreent from many apprentices.
Malin also started laughing—The joke was good, as the saying goes, death to a fellow daoist, not a poor daoist, it had a universal appeal.
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