Living in peace and contentment?

Zhang Yuan never refused any benefits that came his way. After carefully inspecting factors like natural light and orientation in each room, he decisively chose the largest one!

Having studied abroad at Hans's place, Zhang Yuan was already fed up with his miserable, cramped living situation. Unaccustomed to sharing bathrooms and kitchens with others, he had deliberately chosen small, all-in-one studio apartments when renting.

But at the same price, the cost of independent functions was a cramped living area. The bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen combined were only 15 square meters, truly too small to even stretch out.

Now that he had the chance, he naturally wanted to vent his previous frustrations. Don't talk to me about sitting north and facing south; just pick the big one!

Seeing Zhang Yuan choose the room that was half as large again as the others, nearly 30 square meters, Skar raised an eyebrow and teased, "The one you picked is a double room, meant for a potential couple. You better work hard to find a female companion, otherwise, if someone else gets it first, you single guy will have to move out."

Screw you! Did being a single dog offend your rice supply? You dare show off your affection in front of your teammates? Aren't you afraid of being thrown out as bait?

Having made up his mind to stubbornly stay in this dormitory, Zhang Yuan basically treated Skar's words as if he were farting.

After opening his package and arranging his personal belongings, Zhang Yuan suddenly remembered a crucial matter: "Captain, where's the restroom here?"

"Do you see this surrounding wall?"

"I see it, why?"

"Everything outside this wall is the restroom!"

...Damn it! Speechless with shock, the person in question felt his common sense and worldview being trampled upon by a herd of grass-mud horses.

Seeing the expression on the newcomer's face, Skar burst into laughter. "Just kidding. We're not like those Green skins' livestock; how could we not have a washroom? There are two public washrooms on each floor, at the end of the hallway."

Knowing he had been teased, Zhang Yuan glared at his cheap captain and turned to walk out the door.

"Hey, I was just joking, where are you going?"

"To take a dump. Do you want to come along?"

Freed from his burden and feeling much lighter, Zhang Yuan returned to the main hall downstairs and found Skar waiting there, arms crossed. He walked up and greeted him.

Skar pulled out a finger from his embrace and pointed towards the training ground in the yard. "Since there aren't many people today, let's test your physical fitness and combat skills."

"Can I eat something first? I haven't had lunch yet." Zhang Yuan, who hadn't eaten anything since morning, was even hungrier after using the restroom.

"Bear with it for now. You can't do strenuous exercise after eating; it would waste a lot of time."

Helpless, Zhang Yuan followed him to the training ground and looked around, standing opposite Skar.

"First, a set of strength tests, then speed, endurance, and finally, a sparring match with me. Warm up first, don't pull a muscle." Skar, now serious, cut to the chase and issued a series of commands.

With no room for refusal, Zhang Yuan seized the opportunity to start his warm-up exercises—the eighth set of broadcast gymnastics, "The Times Are Calling."

Watching the man's movements, which resembled a bear dancing, with great interest, Skar mentally put a big question mark over Zhang Yuan's physical condition. With his amateurish appearance, he seemed more like a farmer than someone with a Fighter's physique.

The test results greatly surprised Skar. Although the new recruit's speed was indeed a weakness, and his clumsiness from a lack of formal training was evident throughout the tests, his strengths were also outstanding. He completed a series of high-intensity movements and even finished the final endurance test—a five-kilometer weighted run—with a calm expression. Afterwards, standing before Skar, he didn't even bend his knees or back, faring much better than some teammates who had nearly coughed up their lungs after finishing.

In contrast, his strength was not particularly remarkable, but it was sufficient to meet the demands of close combat.

After Zhang Yuan rested for a while to recover his strength, Skar approached him, holding a wooden sword. "What weapon do you specialize in?"

"I use a sword too."

"Catch!" Skar directly threw the wooden sword he was holding, then turned and retrieved another one. "Now, attack me with all your might!"

He raised his sword, stepped forward, his gaze fixed on his opponent's eyes, and swung!

This sword strike was like frost and lightning; this sword strike was as fast as thunder; this sword strike was like an immortal descending; this sword strike was like cleaving through eternity.

A good sword strike, it was almost perfect. Why almost? Because unfortunately, this strike was easily blocked by Skar, who then kicked the great swordsman Zhang flat on his face. But other than that, it was perfect, at least in the latter's imagination.

Zhang Yuan, inwardly channeling countless sword masters like Dugu Qiubai, Ximen Chuixue, and Li Chungang, didn't even last one round.

His face burning with embarrassment, Zhang felt he had been tricked by the system. This Bladesinger class was completely useless! Zhang Yuan complained inwardly.

Skar, having just disciplined the newbie, didn't stop but rather slowed his movements, allowing Zhang Yuan to continue attacking him.

Confused, Zhang Yuan had no choice but to steel himself and charge at his opponent, only to be easily blocked and repelled again and again.

After more than ten rounds of back and forth, Skar finally stopped. "Alright, that's enough. The test is over."

Hearing that the test was over, Zhang Yuan immediately dropped the sword and sat on the ground. Although he wasn't very tired, the sense of frustration still left him feeling somewhat down.

Skar, putting away his weapon, also sat down beside Zhang Yuan and said something that greatly surprised him. "Not bad, much better than I expected."

Zhang the Great Swordsman almost thought he was being mocked. He had swung his sword with all his might but was toyed with by the other party, not even touching a hair. And that was considered not bad? Then the veterans in the mercenary group could all call themselves legendary warriors!

Seeing Zhang Yuan's confusion and disbelief, Skar patiently explained, "It's normal that you couldn't even touch me. I'm a level 9 Fighter, after all. I've trained consistently for over ten years and experienced dangers you probably can't even imagine."

"But you? You're probably a rookie who's never even seen blood, right? No, you haven't even trained professionally. I can clearly see it from your footwork, movements, and reactions. But when you picked up a sword, you actually had a bit of momentum."

"And your combat intuition is also good. Although your body lags far behind your reactions, it can be compensated for through later training. But talent, that's something illogical. You either have it or you don't."

After hearing Skar's explanation, Zhang Yuan finally understood that his system hadn't shortchanged him. Although it hadn't granted him superb combat skills or a berserk power-up for a finishing blow, the Bladesinger class's unique sharp intuition and keen sense for attacks had been passed down without reservation.

Recalling the sparring match, although he was completely disoriented by Skar's dominance and his clumsy, unsightly performance, there were a few instances where he had indeed seen through the opponent's intentions and even faintly glimpsed openings in their transitions between offense and defense. It was just that the gap in strength was too great; seeing anything was pointless.

This realization instantly revitalized Zhang the Great Swordsman, who had been feeling dejected. Since he already possessed some talent, and his system-improved physical condition was decent, as long as he put in the time and practiced diligently, it wasn't impossible for him to achieve something in close combat.

Grumble~ Grumble~ His ravenous stomach let out an untimely protest, unceremoniously interrupting his master's fantasies about the eternal night of swordsmanship and a single sword that could block a million soldiers.