Young Noble

Chapter Five: Young Noble

"Excuse me, may I interrupt?"

Just as Lorist turned to leave, someone approached from the side and asked politely.

Lorist turned around and saw that it was one of the few people still lingering in the small square. Clearly, this visitor was a young nobleman. He wore a finely tailored white silk shirt, a close-fitting white leather vest patterned with gold thread, a crisp white wool coat, white canvas breeches embroidered with golden stripes, and black knee-high leather boots glittering with tiny diamonds. Two gold buttons at his collar were left undone, while a black strap slung a finely made pure black linen overgarment diagonally across his body. He looked dashing, with a hint of unruliness.

That smile was so fake. Lorist suddenly wanted to punch that aristocratic smile right off the man's face. Though the handsome fellow looked somewhat familiar, Lorist simply could not remember where he had seen him before. Besides, the way he looked at people carried both arrogance and disdain. He appeared to treat others as equals, yet he was actually looking down on them from above. Lorist found it extremely irritating.

"What can I do for you?" Shredder asked solemnly.

"Greetings, Instructor Shredder. I merely came to greet Instructor Locke. It has been a long time, and I have missed him greatly..." The young nobleman nodded at the fat man before turning toward Lorist.

"Dear Instructor Locke, your former student greets you. I have always remembered your careful instruction from years ago and cherished it in my heart day and night. I heard that your Battle Qi has stagnated, which is truly regrettable. Now that I have advanced to Silver Three-Star, I have returned to the academy solely to repay the kindness of your teachings. I had originally feared that the great gap between our Battle Qi ranks would cause you to refuse to instruct me, but I never expected you to possess such lofty ambition, challenging Silver Rank opponents with Black Iron strength. This is truly gratifying. Unfortunately, I received the news too late and ranked too far down. Now I can only hope that you proceed smoothly, defeating every opponent in your path until you stand before me, so that I may finally fulfill my wish and once again receive your instruction. I sincerely hope you will stand before your student. Please do your best."

After saying this, the young nobleman lowered his head, pressed a hand to his chest, gave a half-bow, then stepped back several paces and turned away.

What was that about? His words sounded sincere, yet something felt off. What was wrong with that man? Lorist turned to the fat man and asked, "Who was that guy? He strutted over here, spouted a pile of nonsense, and acted as if he knew me well."

Shredder looked dumbfounded. "No way. You don't know him?"

"Yeah, he looked a little familiar, but I can't remember him. Still, judging by his appearance, his status must be fairly high. He's rich too," Lorist answered honestly.

The fat man slapped his forehead. "I give up. Have you forgotten what happened three years ago?"

"Three years ago? Nothing much happened three years ago, did it?" Lorist still could not remember.

"Of course you didn't feel much about it, but he remembers it down to his bones. Three years ago, when you had just become an official swordsmanship instructor at the academy, did you forget the first time you led that Dual Excellence Class and got besieged by the students? That guy just now was the one who led them back then. He was also the one you beat up the worst. He was covered in bloody gashes, with several broken ribs, wrapped up like some oversized mummy." The fat man looked as though the memory was too painful to revisit.

Oh, so it was that brat. Lorist finally remembered.

Dawnlight Academy had a tradition. Every three years, it gathered students who excelled in both Battle Qi and swordsmanship for special training. This class was called the Dual Excellence Class, and it was widely acknowledged as the hardest class to teach. Those who entered the class were talented in both areas, and many were noble children who cultivated inherited Battle Qi and swordsmanship. Every one of them was proud and unwilling to submit easily. An instructor without real strength and a few special tricks could never keep such a class under control.

Three years ago, Lorist had officially been hired as a swordsmanship instructor and assigned to lead the Dual Excellence Class. Those students looked down on him at first, only to be subdued one by one by his swordsmanship. What was that brat's name again? His swordsmanship had seemed among the best of the students, hadn't it? He had even been the instructor's assistant for the Dual Excellence Class. After losing to Lorist in merely two or three exchanges, he bore a secret grudge. He used words to provoke the others and, while Lorist was instructing them in swordsmanship, ordered a group of students to swarm him. He then took the chance to launch a sneak attack himself. He struck viciously, clearly intending to kill Lorist.

Lorist hated his maliciousness, so during the melee, he showed no mercy and beat him so badly that he could not even take care of himself. He had probably spent at least half a year in bed.

"Eh? Didn't they say he went home to recover from his injuries? And that he withdrew from the academy? By rights, the moment he saw me, he should have wanted to draw his sword and stab me a few times. How did he still have the mood to come over and greet me?" Lorist rubbed his chin in puzzlement.

"Heh..." The fat man laughed. "That's noble etiquette. Even if two people are sworn enemies, gritting their teeth in hatred and about to duel to the death, they still have to shake hands and salute each other before the duel. That's called having style."

"Why did that brat come over so arrogantly, put on a fake act, and say all that nonsense? He said he hoped I could make it to him and not disappoint him. What did he mean? Silver Three-Star isn't anything special. I've got plenty of defeated opponents under my belt..." Lorist was somewhat annoyed.

"Hehe, you really need to watch out for that kid. Do you know his family background?"

"I forgot. I can't even remember his name..."

"You... Sigh, forget it. I'll tell you. That brat is Sandos Yi'erta, the second son of Sandos Liam III, the Regent Grand Duke of the Kingdom of Kaelia. Do you know the Kingdom of Kaelia?"

"I do. It's separated from our Forde Commercial Alliance by two duchies and seems to lie to the southeast," Lorist answered after thinking for a moment.

"The Kingdom of Kaelia borders the Roman Empire to the east and the Khanate of Harvisthan to the south. Yet it has avoided war despite being caught between two great powers. Do you know why?" The fat man's expression turned serious.

"I don't." Lorist honestly shook his head.

"That's because the Kingdom of Kaelia has a Sword Saint protecting the nation. Neither the Roman Empire nor the Khanate of Harvisthan dares set its sights on it. Kaelia's Sword Saint is known as the Storm Sword Saint. It is said that when he was still a Great Swordsman, he once displayed his skill in public. It happened to be raining heavily. He danced with his sword in the rain and precisely struck every single raindrop. When the downpour ended, the area within ten feet of where he had wielded his sword was still completely dry. That made his name known far and wide."

"After recovering from the beating you gave him, that Sandos Yi'erta became a disciple of the Storm Sword Saint. Think about it: three years ago, he was still Silver One-star, but now he is already Silver Three-Star. You can imagine how hard he has trained over these past three years. He actually returned to the academy this time to settle the grudge from three years ago with you. There are rumors that in private sparring matches, he only needs two or three strikes to defeat opponents of the same Silver Three-Star rank. It seems he is very confident that he can take that Gold Badge for swordsmanship instructors from you. Locke, you need to be careful. He is a true opponent. Let me see where he is ranked..."

Shredder pulled several sheets of parchment from beside him and squinted at them for a long time. "Here it is. He is ranked two hundred and eighty-fourth in the duel against you. He must have registered yesterday afternoon."

"What?" Lorist was startled. "Fatty, when did registration start?"

"The day before yesterday..." The fat man grinned. "There are already more than three hundred and fifty people. When I came over, there were still thirty or forty people lining up at the Enforcement Department to register. I believe it will exceed four hundred today..."

Lorist gave the fat man the middle finger. "I'm going to find that old bastard. Is he trying to work me to death? Is there no justice left in this world?"

The fat man laughed like a fox that had stolen a chicken. "That old bastard scolded me this morning. He said my vision was too narrow, that all I saw was the academy and the Academy District. He said I should look toward Molent City, then the entire Malichu Plains. If enough time passed, merchants traveling north and south could even spread the news to every region. He wants this duel challenge to become sensational news. Only then would more challengers come, more registration fees be collected, the academy's reputation grow greater, and its influence spread wider... At noon, I asked some students to put up duel notices around the city, especially in taverns and at the Mercenary Guild. I told them to put up extra copies there..."

Lorist staggered and nearly fell over.

The fat man stabbed him again. "That old bastard said he hoped three thousand six hundred people would register this year. That way, he could arrange ten matches for you every day. It should be easy for you..."

With a plop, Lorist collapsed straight onto the ground. He climbed back up resentfully, gave the fat man two middle fingers, and turned away.

The fat man was still shouting after him. "Locke, be careful of that Yi'erta. Don't get careless and lose to him..."

To hell with that Yi-whatever-ta. He was only Silver Three-Star. Lorist did not take him seriously at all. Four months of training in the Ruins Archipelago had given Lorist ample confidence in his own abilities. That mercenary group called something-sword... wasn't its leader Gold Two-star? Even so, he had been chased all over the place by a Black Scale Rhinoceros. Yet with one easy strike from Lorist, the Black Scale Rhinoceros had died.

If he sparred with Instructor Krudd again now, even if Krudd was at the peak of Gold Three-star, Lorist believed they would need more than a thousand exchanges to determine the victor, and Lorist even had a good chance of winning. This was neither arrogance nor boasting. Although his Battle Qi was only Black Iron Three-Star, he had gained greatly from cultivating the Golden Water Art, the inherited qigong of his previous life.

A pebble the size of a thumb fell into his palm. He closed his hand into a fist and squeezed. The pebble crumbled into powder. This should be inch force, right? In my previous life, I cultivated the Golden Water Art for over thirty years, yet I never even reached the peak of Manifest Force, let alone the realms of Dark Force and Transforming Force. Who would have thought that in this life, by using the Golden Water Art's method to circulate Battle Qi, I would enter the realm of Dark Force so easily after only three or four years of training? Perhaps this world is simply more suitable for cultivating Internal Force.

The hallmark of Silver Battle Qi was channeling Battle Qi into a sword to form a sword aura. Other than weapons similarly infused with Battle Qi, it could smash through ordinary weapons and shields as easily as rotting wood. Only divine weapons forged by master craftsmen could contend with it. Although Lorist could not form a sword aura, he could still channel Battle Qi—or Internal Force—into his sword. It could cut through gold and iron, sharp beyond compare, even surpassing swords that formed sword auras through Battle Qi. It simply kept its radiance hidden and did not draw attention.

Now, as he circulated Battle Qi through the Golden Water Art, it moved with perfect ease. His movement techniques and swordsmanship had fused into one. Every gesture and movement carried a seamless flow of breath. He landed swiftly and silently, yet every step rooted firmly into the ground, steady as a mountain. The energy channels in his dantian ran long and deep. Before the previous force was exhausted, the next force was already born. These were precisely the signs of entering the realm of Dark Force described in the Golden Water Art's general principles from his previous life.

The only difference was that the general principles said that upon entering the realm of Dark Force, the temples on both sides of one's head would bulge prominently. Lorist touched his temples. They were still flat, no different from before. He figured it might be a difference caused by using Battle Qi to circulate the technique. Since he felt no harm from it, he did not care. His current trouble was that the academy head, that old bastard, had turned him into a lucky cat. It did not matter how many duels he fought; he was used to dueling anyway. Moreover, after entering the realm of Dark Force and combining it with this body's special talent, Dynamic Vision, Lorist did not regard Silver Battle Qi opponents as worthy of concern.

Ten duels a day were nothing. At most, he would finish them in a few strikes. When he taught swordsmanship, a single class required him to conduct ten or so instructional sparring matches. He also had to identify the students' flaws and weaknesses, analyze them, and correct them. That was far more troublesome than dueling. If a swordsman appeared in a duel who could fight him for a hundred exchanges without either gaining the upper hand, then that opponent definitely would not possess Silver Battle Qi. At the very least, he would have to be Gold Two-star or above. But then again, would a swordsman at Gold Rank not be ashamed to challenge someone like him, a mere Black Iron Three-Star?

The difference was that he wanted to duel, while they wanted him to duel. Both were duels, but they felt entirely different—one was voluntary, while the other was arranged by someone else. That old bastard was using him to rake in duel registration fees. He had truly fallen into a pit of greed. As Lorist walked, he silently cursed that old bastard, hoping that one day he would be crushed to death by gold coins.