Training Begins with the Basics

"Tick-tock, tick-tock..."

On the second floor of Weissen Family Castle was a clock room, where a grandfather clock as large as a wardrobe diligently kept time.

The clock was still quite primitive, powered by weights hanging from ropes, while its hourly chimes depended on servants on duty in the clock room.

The candlelight in the clock room was bright, and the blackboard on the wall bore notes such as "4:00, wake the kitchen's early shift, Okso and Karpo," "5:00, wake Tarot," and "5:40, go to the servants' dining hall and inform Tarot."

At five o'clock, the servant from the clock room arrived outside Tarot's door and pulled hard on the rope by the door. A faint ringing sounded from behind the thick wooden door.

The moment Tarot heard the bell, she got up, took care of her business, washed up, returned to change out of her nightclothes and into her work uniform, then headed to the servants' dining hall.

The servants' dining hall was beside the kitchen. The early-shift cooks had already made oatmeal porridge, boiled eggs, and several kinds of sausage. They were now rolling lye bread and preparing steamed buns.

Within the Weissen Family, the three highest-ranking maids were Tarot, who looked after Frederick; Okso, who managed the kitchen; and Karpo, the head maid.

All three came from well-to-do families in Weissenburg. They had begun working for the Weissen Family at eleven or twelve. Karpo, the oldest, was now twenty-one, while Tarot, the youngest, would turn eighteen in winter.

The three treated Frederick like a younger brother. Whenever Frederick slept in, snuck out to play, or made strange snacks in the kitchen, they would help cover for him in front of Master and Madam.

Recently, Ah Fu had gone away on business, so Tarot, Okso, and Karpo discussed and handled all household matters together. The servants' breakfast, beginning at five, was their chance to discuss the day's work.

At 5:40, the servant from the clock room came to the kitchen to notify Tarot. His own night shift had ended as well, and he would return to sleep after breakfast.

At 5:50, Tarot carried a basin of cold water into Frederick's room, soaked a cotton towel, and wiped it across her master's face.

Frederick woke up at once.

Frederick's habit was to sleep until he woke naturally. If he had nothing to do at night, he would go to bed early and wake after eight the next morning. That was not what mattered, though. What mattered was enjoying the freedom of waking naturally and lazing in bed. Sometimes he could stay in bed until lunchtime.

But there was no helping it now. At precisely six, he was already at the training ground outside the castle.

After coming to this world, Frederick had naturally dreamed of splitting mountains with a sword in his left hand and burning rivers with a Forbidden Spell in his right.

Now that he had a Sword Saint for a master, he felt that goal was not far away.

Richard Nahl had arrived at the training ground earlier. Seeing Frederick's expectant expression, he wordlessly handed him a roll of parchment.

"This is your training plan," he said.

Frederick took the parchment with some excitement. Dawn had begun to break, and he had no trouble reading the words on it.

After one glance, his mouth fell open wide enough to fit a goose egg.

The training plan was written very clearly:

① 6:00 to 7:00, general physical training on odd-numbered days; specialized physical training on even-numbered days.

② 7:00 to 8:00, swordsmanship fundamentals training.

③ 8:00 to 9:00, breakfast.

④ 9:00 to 12:00, academic study: Introduction to Magic, grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, arranged by Manuel.

⑤ Rest on days ending in 5 or 0.

"That's it?" Frederick asked his master in disbelief.

He had thought a Sword Saint's training would be magical and mysterious, but this training plan did not seem all that different from the non-magical world of his old home.

"What else were you expecting?" Richard Nahl wore an expression that said, Just as I thought, this kid would react like this. "Have you forgotten how old you are?"

"You're at the stage where you need to build your foundation. If you want to learn anything further, wait at least four years until you turn twelve."

"The body is the foundation of every martial skill. Without strength, speed, endurance, flexibility, agility, and reflexes, all techniques are empty talk."

"I know you're eager, but don't be this eager. Eating ten days' worth of food in one day will only kill you."

Frederick immediately understood what he meant and said seriously, "Thank you for the reminder, Master."

Richard Nahl was pleased by his humble attitude. Pointing to the two ends of the training ground, he said, "Start now. Run two laps first."

Frederick obediently ran two laps, then was called over.

"There are many things wrong with your running posture," Richard Nahl said seriously. He then used a stick as a pointer, indicating various parts of Frederick's body and having him adjust his form.

Frederick had never received professional athletic training in his previous life, while Richard Nahl had developed his own set of theories through years of practice. They were useful now.

After running for more than half an hour, Frederick's posture finally began to look proper, though he was drenched in sweat.

While resting, he asked his master, "Master, have you ever considered writing down your theories in a book and passing them on?"

Richard Nahl gave him a deep look and replied calmly, "Everyone's talents are different. You can't become skilled just by blindly following a book."

Frederick understood that perfectly. Even students in the same class could have vastly different grades; self-study only widened the gap further.

"Still..." Richard Nahl said thoughtfully, "if it can inspire some people, that wouldn't be bad."

"Continue. Run slower this time. Don't stop until I tell you to."

Frederick began running again.

When the run was over, Richard Nahl said while he rested, "The fundamentals training that follows will be dull, but you must take it seriously."

"No matter what kind of martial skill it is, it consists of corresponding fundamentals."

"You can think of fundamentals as letters. Techniques are words formed from those letters, words form sentences, sentences form articles, and articles form a book."

"You must train the basic movements until your body remembers them firmly, so that whether you are utterly exhausted or caught in an accident, you can use them instinctively."

"The first thing you will learn today is footwork."

"Footwork can be called the foundation of all martial skills. Whether someone has received training can be seen from the position and movement of their feet."

"You will first learn the most basic footwork: Thrust Step, Advance Step, Lean Step, Diagonal Step, and turning. Once you become proficient, you can learn the other footwork derived from them."

"After learning footwork, you will learn several basic stances: Rooftop Stance, Bull Stance, Hoe Stance, Fool's Stance, and so on. Likewise, once you master them, you will learn their derivative stances."

"Besides the longsword, you must also learn wrestling, dagger fighting, armored combat, spear fighting, and mounted combat. If you are interested, you can learn poleaxes, crescent blades, one-handed swords and bucklers, and quarterstaffs."

"At the same time, you must learn the four casting methods of Body Enhancement, Enchanted Attack, Mana Detection, and Magic Shield..."

Frederick felt a little dizzy, as though he had returned to high school and was listening to a teacher list exam topics.

The difference was that failing the college entrance exam would not kill him. As a noble, going to war was an obligation. Without sufficiently strong martial skills to protect himself, he could only be a free kill for the enemy on the battlefield.

After the break ended, Frederick stood as Richard Nahl instructed, holding a wooden longsword as he followed the demonstration and practiced footwork.

While he practiced, Richard Nahl suddenly asked, "Do you know the difference between an ordinary Swordmaster and a Sword Saint, or between an ordinary high-level mage and a God of Magic?"

Frederick did not stop moving his feet. He merely shook his head.

"A domain," Richard Nahl said seriously. "Within my domain, I rule everything."

Frederick was still puzzled when he suddenly felt the environment around him change. It was as if he had entered a very special world. Here, his sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and Mental Power perception were all suppressed. His movements met enormous resistance, even breathing became difficult, and at the same time, it felt as though countless eyes were watching him from every direction.

Richard Nahl's voice rang out around him. "This is only the most basic domain. Different people's domains possess different special abilities. It would be nice if you could force me to use mine."

Frederick gasped for air and asked with difficulty, "Master, how does one learn a domain?"

"I don't know," Richard Nahl replied. "Everyone simply comes to possess one naturally after reaching an extremely high level of strength."

"As for me, I didn't have one before going to sleep that day. When I woke up, I discovered that my domain had appeared."

Frederick was speechless for a moment. This was far too mystical for him to understand.

Yet it also stirred his curiosity. He resolved that he, too, would reach that level and unravel this mystery.

Seeing the change in Frederick's expression and eyes, Richard Nahl smiled faintly in satisfaction.