Lionheart Swordsmanship

With the experience from last time, Roland skillfully navigated the shaded path and arrived at the village again.

However, it was vastly different from the lively scene of celebration in his memory; the village before him appeared excessively deserted.

Even before noon, many shops had their doors shut, with "Temporarily Closed" signs hanging at their entrances.

Sparse pedestrians hurried along, and quite a few people, carrying their belongings and with panicked expressions, rushed towards the village entrance, their faces etched with terror.

"What happened here?"

This scene left Roland utterly bewildered.

He muttered to himself, walking into the familiar tavern on the street with a mind full of questions.

The usually boisterous tavern was now empty. Only a hunched old man was tidying things up behind the counter in the main hall.

Hearing footsteps, the old man flinched violently. Only when he saw it was Roland did he let out a long sigh of relief.

"Kid, what do you want?"

After buying a few bottles of wine and packing them into his bag, Roland took the opportunity to ask.

"Did something happen in the village?"

"You don't know?"

Lauren looked up at Roland in surprise, then lowered his head to continue tidying, explaining in a hoarse voice.

"A large number of monsters appeared in Dawn Territory to the south, and they've already swept through nearly half the villages. And that damned Baron Gavin..."

At this point, Lauren suddenly gritted his teeth, tightly clenching the rag in his hand.

"After he organized the army, he didn't exterminate those monsters; instead, he drove those bastards towards us!"

"Kid, I advise you to leave here quickly too."

Taking Lauren's warning, Roland had just stepped out of the shop when he heard a dull sound of footsteps.

Following the sound, he saw a troop of soldiers marching in formation, heading directly south.

The few leading them looked familiar; they were the guards from the manor.

"Even the regular soldiers are mobilized?"

Unlike the militiamen temporarily conscripted from Black Fir Forest, these regular soldiers were all clad in armor and wielded sharp iron weapons. They were the most elite force under Baron Foslin.

Now that even they were deployed to defend against monsters, it was clear this invasion was extraordinary.

Upon seeing the regular soldiers mobilized, many villagers who had planned to escape hesitated and stopped.

But Roland became even more vigilant.

After the army had completely departed, he immediately headed to the herb shop from his memory.

Fortunately, the herb shop hadn't closed yet.

Roland purchased the ingredients according to the copied recipe, turned, and headed towards Sean's house.

From a distance, he saw someone standing at the door waving at him. It was Sean's uncle, Peyton.

"What, kid? Are you going to give up the assessment like that scoundrel Sean?"

Unlike the other frightened villagers, Peyton had a stalk of straw in his mouth, still maintaining his lazy demeanor.

"It's a shame things have been so turbulent lately. I had already agreed with Lauren to have you work for him..."

Roland ignored his teasing.

"Uncle Peyton, you know about the matter in Dawn Territory too?"

"Of course, I'm not deaf."

Peyton gestured with his chin towards the inside of the house.

Gary was packing his belongings, clearly preparing to evacuate like the other villagers.

"We're planning to leave tonight. What about you? Why aren't you staying put in the manor? That place is much safer than out here."

"Handling some personal matters."

Roland took out the wine he had bought at the tavern and handed it over.

"And to see you guys."

"Whoa!"

Peyton's eyes lit up. He grabbed the wine jug, eagerly uncorked it, and took a large gulp.

As his Adam's apple bobbed, he wiped his beard, stained with wine, and raised an eyebrow.

"You're much more sensible than that scoundrel Sean. Tell me, what are you up to this time?"

Since he was familiar with Peyton and time was pressing, Roland stopped being polite and spoke directly.

"Uncle Peyton, I've practiced the Basic Swordsmanship you taught me last time quite a bit, so... I'd like to learn a new sword technique from you."

Asking Peyton for sword instruction was something Roland had planned since leaving the manor.

The tuition fees at the training grounds were too expensive, and he had no other way to learn combat skills, so he had to come to Peyton for guidance again.

With that thought, he took out his coin pouch.

The eight silver coins he'd gained from the last counter-kill, with five remaining after buying the medicinal ingredients, was exactly the price Peyton had quoted earlier.

However, to Roland's surprise, Peyton didn't reach out to take the money. Instead, he pushed the pouch back and patted the iron sword at his waist.

"I told you, five silver coins to teach you and Sean for a month. Didn't you guys give me this thing as payment last time?"

With that, he tilted his head back and drained the wine from his flask.

"But we only have this afternoon, so it all depends on your comprehension of how much you can learn."

Before his voice had even faded, Peyton turned and walked towards the open space behind the house.

Seeing this, Roland waved to Gary, who was packing his belongings. After putting down his own pack, he quickly followed.

Peyton stopped in the open space and casually broke off a branch, testing its weight.

"Kid, watch closely."

He flicked his wrist.

"Basic Swordsmanship can save your life, but this…"

The branch drew a sharp arc through the air.

"Is the Lionheart Swordsmanship used by the regular army of the Golden Valley Kingdom, designed specifically for battlefield combat."

"Military swordsmanship? Didn't Sean say Peyton was a mercenary before?"

Before Roland could ponder this further, Peyton's body suddenly moved.

His movements were astonishingly fast, the branch blurring into a streak.

Thrust, diagonal slash, return cut.

Every movement was clean and precise, without any superfluous flourishes.

What was most shocking were the tricky angles.

He aimed for vulnerable spots like the throat, armpit, and the back of the knee – places that armor couldn't fully protect.

As dust flew, Peyton suddenly stopped his motion, the tip of the branch a mere inch from Roland's throat.

His expression was unchanged, his breathing even.

"See clearly?"

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Roland's forehead.

This set of swordsmanship was completely different from the Basic Swordsmanship he had learned before.

There were no defensive stances, no parrying techniques; every move exuded naked killing intent.

The seemingly casual changes in stance actually hid deadly follow-ups.

"Too fast."

Roland honestly admitted, wiping the sweat from his brow before looking up and requesting, "Uncle Peyton, could you demonstrate it again?"

Peyton raised an eyebrow but resumed his stance.

"Alright, kid. Who told you to give me an iron sword?"

Seeing Peyton ready himself again, Roland quickly took a deep breath and quietly activated his [Focus] Trait.

Instantly, the surrounding sounds faded, and his vision narrowed to only Peyton's figure.

In Roland's sight, everything seemed to slow down.

He could clearly see the contraction of each of Peyton's muscles, the rhythm of each breath, and even every trajectory the branch traced through the air.

Details that were imperceptible in his normal state were now laid bare, as if deconstructed.

When Peyton completed the final sharp concluding movement, Roland's pupils constricted slightly.

He not only memorized the entire set of movements but could also vaguely understand the tactical intent behind each move.

Which were feints, which were fatal blows, and which were designed to force the opponent to reveal an opening.

"How was it?"

Peyton put down the branch, only to find Roland's eyes unusually sharp.

"Uncle Peyton."

Roland's voice was a little distant.

"The variation in the third move wasn't a simple diagonal slash; you adjusted your wrist angle mid-motion. That was to counter a shield block, wasn't it?"

The branch in Peyton's hand snapped with a "crack," breaking in two.

His usually languid face froze, and the eyes that were always half-closed widened for the first time.

He subconsciously took half a step back, as if seeing the young man before him for the first time.

"Damn it."

Peyton's voice trembled slightly.

"Had you learned this swordsmanship before?"

"No."

As the [Focus] trait deactivated, Roland felt a strong wave of dizziness wash over him, forcing him to lean against the fence behind him to steady himself.

"Then how did you..."

Recalling the speed at which Roland had learned Basic Swordsmanship previously, Peyton ultimately just shook his head and casually picked up a twig from the ground, tossing it over.

"Never mind, demonstrate it for me."

"Okay, Uncle Peyton."

Roland took the twig. Relying on the memories in his mind, he perfectly replicated the Lionheart Swordsmanship.

Although his Strength and speed were far inferior to Peyton's, and the transitions between each move were slightly stiff, his movements were exceptionally precise.

Peyton stared at Roland for a long time before suddenly letting out a self-mocking chuckle.

If he hadn't known that only regular army soldiers could learn Lionheart Swordsmanship, he would have almost believed this kid had already learned it and came specifically to toy with him.

"Tsk."

Remembering the arduous years he spent diligently practicing Lionheart Swordsmanship back then, Peyton clicked his tongue in frustration.

He ambled over to the shade of a tree, slumped onto the ground, and lazily waved his hand.

"Alright kid, I have nothing more to teach you. The rest is up to you to practice and master."

"Thank you, Uncle Peyton!"

After bowing slightly in thanks, Roland looked at the golden text that appeared before him, excitedly licking his lips.

[Learned Lionheart Swordsmanship, Current Level: Lv.1]

"Just as I thought, the [Focus] trait isn't just limited to academics!"

"After activating the [Focus] trait, just by watching it once and practicing it once, I've awakened this Lionheart Swordsmanship, which is more difficult than Basic Swordsmanship! However."

Rubbing his slightly aching temples, Roland sighed softly.

"It seems that depending on the complexity of the skill being learned, the Spirit Power required to activate the [Focus] trait also differs. Activating it for two minutes this time consumed more than the five minutes it took to learn the text last time."

After recovering slightly, Roland clenched his fist as he thought about the wondrous feeling of learning skills when he activated the [Focus] trait earlier.

"With my current Spirit attribute, perhaps I can activate the Focus trait to learn any skill, as long as it's not too complex or difficult, greatly shortening the time it takes to awaken skills! This is simply..."

His thoughts were interrupted by a strong wave of dizziness.

Roland stumbled, and a sense of exhaustion immediately surged through him.

"Running out of Spirit Power feels truly awful..."

Thinking this, he dragged his heavy feet to the shade of the tree next to Peyton and slowly sat down, leaning against the trunk.

"I'll rest for a bit first."

Roland closed his eyes, letting the weariness wash over him like a tide.

After an unknown amount of time, a piercing scream shattered the night sky.

Roland's eyes snapped open. He found that the sky had completely darkened.

Even more alarming was that the distant sky was dyed a fiery orange by the flames, and thick smoke billowed upwards into the night.

"What's happening?"

Roland pushed himself up. His nostrils immediately caught a strong scent of blood.

Following closely behind were the sounds of continuous screams, beast-like roars, and...

Chewing?

His blood ran cold.