The horses raised at the manor's auxiliary estate were in for a treat. Wheat shoots, barley shoots, and lentil shoots harvested from Magic Potion Tunic, still fragrant with morning dew, were brought by the servants to feed the horses.
The planting of the three magic potions proceeded in an orderly fashion under the guidance of the serf overseers and technicians.
Old Hans also easily gathered the first batch of hired workers for Windmill Mill.
As the lord, Russell did not actually have much to do. He had plenty of spare time to inspect his territory.
He did not return to Fluorite Castle for lunch at noon.
The round trip took four hours. Even though he could train on the road, it was still a waste of time, so Russell had a retainer deliver a message, deciding to return to Fluorite Castle only once a week from then on.
He devoted all the time he saved to practicing the Radiant Sword Technique.
"Talent may be lacking, but perseverance will make up for it!" After drinking a vial of magic potion and feeling his Battle Aura begin to boil, Russell immediately threw himself into training, repeatedly swinging his fine steel longsword and using the movements of the Battle Aura combat technique to open up his meridians.
Just one move—slash and thrust—tempered a thousand times.
Rather than growing bored, Russell felt more and more immersed in his training. One perfected move could carry him through anything; it seemed that if he practiced this move deeply enough, it could split half the sky apart, perhaps even reach the concept of severing all things with a single sword.
"Looks like the blessings of 996 work culture delayed a martial arts genius in my previous life!"
Whoosh!
The fine steel longsword struck steadily three feet before him, forming a seventy-five-degree angle with his body. A bead of sweat from the tip of his hair flew forward with its momentum, landing precisely on the sword tip before being split in two by the blade.
Sweat covered his nose and cheeks.
Yet Russell did not feel the slightest fatigue, nor could he sense any weariness in his body.
Training in something one had no interest in only became more exhausting, but when training in something one enjoyed, there was never enough time.
"My lord, you should rest." Eric walked over.
"Did you sleep well, Instructor Eric?" Russell did not stop, continuing to swing his fine steel longsword. "I'll stop after another quarter of an hour."
"I caught up on sleep." Eric answered, then drew his fine steel longsword and began practicing by himself nearby.
He was already a Great Knight. His meridians had formed a unified whole, and his Battle Aura could grow no further. Only by contracting a Phantom Beast could he break through the shackles of his current realm.
"Instructor Eric, have you already mastered Battle Qi Chain?" Russell asked.
"Tempered a thousand times."
"Then all you lack is a Phantom Beast."
"Contracting a Phantom Beast is harder than ascending to heaven, my lord." Eric slashed fiercely, and a Battle Qi Sword Aura shot more than three meters away.
Contracting a Phantom Beast was difficult, but obtaining one was even more difficult.
Without Russell's help, he might remain a Great Knight for the rest of his life, unable to touch the realm of a Phantom Beast Knight.
He turned to look at Russell, anticipation in his eyes.
Russell merely said casually, "There will be an opportunity."
As a lord, he naturally understood what Eric wanted. A Great Knight whose Battle Aura had reached its peak and who was willing to serve him had only two goals. One was to be granted a knighthood and join the ranks of the nobility; the other was to contract a Phantom Beast and advance to become a Phantom Beast Knight.
But he would not make promises lightly.
There was no need to make empty promises. When the time came, they would naturally come true.
A quarter of an hour later, Russell stopped. A male servant immediately handed him a towel to wipe away sweat, while a maid brought tea to quench his thirst.
"My lord, shall I arrange bathwater for you?" the butler Morris asked.
"No need. If I had to bathe every time I sweated, wouldn't I be bathing three or four times a day?" Russell had not reached the point of being a clean freak.
In the blink of an eye, night fell.
After dinner and a bath, Russell once again chose to camp at Magic Potion Tunic, still using Worm Grass night watch as his reason.
No one could persuade him otherwise, so they could only let him work himself so hard.
However, what puzzled Russell greatly was that he failed to enter the Dark Dreamscape that night and slept straight through until dawn.
"Good morning, my lord."
"Good morning, John."
After casually greeting the Knight Retainer, Russell walked to the Glimmering River and scooped up water to wash his face. Once the disturbed water settled, he looked at the handsome face reflected in it and frowned deeply, unable to understand.
"The Dark Dreamscape didn't appear. What happened?"
Ever since he had transmigrated, he had entered the Dark Dreamscape every night and explored it together with Little Dream Dragon.
Over the past few days, he had relied on the Dark Dreamscape to first discover the pearl within a clam shell, then the Spirit Worm nurtured by a birch tree. It could be said that Russell had already gained a preliminary understanding of, and appreciation for, his cheat.
Who would have thought—
His cheat had suddenly vanished.
"Could it really be gone?" Russell's expression grew increasingly grave. The value of the Dark Dreamscape was immeasurable.
With the Dark Dreamscape, he possessed boundless resources. The ability to discover wild Spirit Worms alone was enough to propel him to the pinnacle of life.
Without the Dark Dreamscape, Russell did not dare guarantee that he would still be able to soar.
After all, in this magical world, what limited development was not vision, but dragons and elves. Without dragons or elves, no amount of knowledge that a transmigrator was supposed to possess would be of any use.
Besides—
Russell had only been an ordinary person in his previous life.
"Or did Little Dream Dragon leave me? That shouldn't be it. We got along quite well these past few days, and I didn't offend it, did I?" There was no doubt that the Dark Dreamscape came from Little Dream Dragon, though Russell did not know its origins.
Whether it was the last Dream Dragon Ice Cream he had eaten before his death, or some unimaginable Dream Dragon, he had no way of knowing.
"Could it be..."
Russell thought of a possibility. "Little Dream Dragon breathed out Dragon Breath, then got tired?"
In the past, Little Dream Dragon had also breathed out in the Dark Dreamscape, but it seemed to inhale the mist-like Dragon Breath back in afterward.
Only this time, in order to help the birch tree nurture a Spirit Worm, Little Dream Dragon had been unable to reclaim its Dragon Breath.
"If that's really the case, Little Dream Dragon is far too weak... No, that's not right. Little Dream Dragon has four limbs and two wings, which are traits of a true dragon. What it breathed out should have been dragonfire..." Dragon Breath was the breath of a Wyvern, while dragonfire was the breath of a true dragon.
As the name implied, a Wyvern possessed only a pair of powerful hind legs, while its forelimbs had transformed into fleshy wings.
A true dragon possessed four limbs, as well as a separate pair of wings.
Aside from being small, Little Dream Dragon perfectly matched the traits of a true dragon in every other respect, but Russell still did not dare determine what it truly was.
In any case—
Russell raised his head and rallied his spirits. "Don't panic. Let's wait until tonight and see whether Little Dream Dragon appears again!"
Suppressing his worries, he returned to being the elegant noble lord he was.
He busied himself inspecting his territory, supervising the magic potion cultivation at Magic Potion Tunic, receiving stonemasons and carpenters from town, and discussing the blueprints for Windmill Mill...
Until night fell.
Russell still chose to camp at Magic Potion Tunic, hoping that Little Dream Dragon would descend with the Dark Dreamscape. Yet another night passed, and Little Dream Dragon still did not appear.
"Does a breath of dragonfire really require such a long recovery, Ice Cream?"
Russell tilted his head back and sighed, unable to muster much energy.
The only good news was that a bud resembling a branch had grown three meters up the thickest birch tree. Upon close sensing, he could feel rhythmic magic power within it, as though some tiny life were breathing softly.
The Birch Worm was about to take shape.
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