Arrangements Before Departure

The System seemed to see through his hesitation and reminded him, "You have no other choice."

"Yeah! No other choice!" Renard took a deep breath and cheered up again, "Those scums from Constantinople, I'm going back."

As he said this, he had completely immersed himself in the role of Scum Renard.

"With your current strength, if you go looking for trouble with them, you'll probably get yourself killed," the System coughed lightly, reminding him not to get carried away.

Renard deflated like a leaky balloon, "Is there any way to improve my strength quickly? At least enough to protect myself after going to Constantinople."

The System pondered for a moment, "After calculation, the shortest time required is forty-three days."

Renard clenched his fists, "It's decided then."

The System spoke again, explaining, "I'm talking about the ideal situation. In reality, it will take at least three to four months."

"..."

Renard lay in bed for a full ten days. During this time, he did nothing but eat and sleep, while his lackeys were kept busy every moment, carrying out bounty missions as ordered.

"Ding! Bounty mission completed: Help Baron Hamilton repair the north wall of Saint Brieuc Fortress. Reward: Two hundred dinars."

Not long after the System's notification sounded, Tommy and the others returned to the castle, dragging their exhausted bodies.

Renard did not dismiss them this time. Instead, like a general inspecting his soldiers, he circled them several times. After a long pause, he delivered astonishing news, "In a few days, I plan to return to Constantinople Academy."

Everyone fell silent. Then he dropped an even more explosive bombshell, "I plan to send you all to Norn Academy for further studies, and I'll cover the tuition fees."

Norn Academy was one of the three major academies in the Kingdom of Arthur, located in Hundred Leaves County. It was a very well-known institution in the country, and "well-known" meant expensive tuition fees – one gold coin per person per semester, with free room and board.

Renard scanned everyone present and asked, "What do you think?"

The nine men knelt on one knee and said in unison, "Your will is our direction."

For the nine lackeys, the opportunity to study at Norn Academy was an immense honor, and there was no reason to refuse.

"Alright, it's decided then. Say goodbye to your families and set off as soon as possible." Renard handed three Magic Crystal Cards to Ben, "You are the strongest and most agile among them. Don't disappoint me."

Ben suppressed his excitement and thumped his chest forcefully, "Yes, Lord Renard."

He changed "Young Master" to "Lord," signifying his formal transition from a lackey to a Follower.

"Dismissed!" Renard waved his hand, dismissing everyone.

Gilbert was accumulating strength, and so was he.

Renard then turned his gaze to the unfolded map. It depicted the entire northern continent. The Barren Land occupied less than a cubic centimeter on it. After a long silence, a smile suddenly bloomed on his face, "What a magnificent world."

Partings always came quickly. Four days flashed by in an instant. The lackeys bid farewell to their families and headed north together.

Renard stood at the north gate of the town, watching their receding figures. He couldn't help but want to compose a poem: "When a son travels a thousand miles, the father worries; when the father travels a thousand miles, the son is carefree."

He adjusted his mood and turned to walk back into the town. He needed to pack his things, as he would be leaving in a few days.

But before that, he had to return the medal to Wilson. A reward of fifty dinars and a random draw – such a reward couldn't be refused.

Of course, he could have kept the medal. In fact, that was his initial thought. After all, the medal's intrinsic value far exceeded the quest reward.

However, after much consideration, he decided to return it to its rightful owner.

When Renard arrived at the training grounds, Wilson was sitting on a stone stump, looking dejected and oblivious to his surroundings.

Only when Renard stood before him did the sturdy man suddenly react, greeting him somewhat dejectedly, "Good afternoon, Young Master Renard."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson," Renard nodded in return and sat down beside him, "You seem troubled."

"No," Wilson shook his head silently, his eyes fixed on the ground as if something there held his attention.

"Thank you for your reminder that day. Otherwise, I might not be sitting here safely right now," Renard said, his words seemingly out of context.

However, upon hearing this, Wilson seemed to have been pricked by a nail and jumped up, his face full of disbelief, "You know?"

"It was just a guess before, but now I'm certain," Renard's face bloomed into a smile, like a mischievous demon who had succeeded in his scheme.

"Damn it!" Wilson clenched his fist in annoyance, "If Young Master Gilbert finds out I leaked his plan, he'll definitely make me pay."

Renard tilted his head noncommittally. Wilson and Old Walker were like two extremes.

One appeared honest and upright, but was full of schemes; the other appeared cunning and sly, but was actually a crude warrior.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the gleaming Medal of Merit, and handed it to the still-annoyed Wilson, "I believe this belongs to you. Keep it safe and don't lose it again."

He smiled meaningfully and, ignoring Wilson's astonished expression, turned and walked back towards the castle.

Less than twenty meters away, Wilson's barely audible voice came from behind, "Young Master Renard, thank you."

Renard's footsteps didn't falter, as if he hadn't heard, but he let out a soft sigh, "You're welcome."

Even Renard himself barely heard those three words, let alone Wilson, who was in the ecstatic joy of having his item returned.

"Ding! Bounty mission completed: Help Mr. Wilson retrieve his stolen Medal of Merit. Reward: Fifty dinars and one random draw."

Renard returned to the castle and opened the System store. Seven hundred and fifty dinars, equivalent to seven hundred and fifty silver coins. He then opened his status interface.

"Host attributes: Strength: 10, Agility: 10, Intelligence: 9, Charisma: 6, Potential: 10, Unallocated Skill Points: 10."

"Host Strength Skill Levels: Iron Bones: 4, Strong Attack: 3, Precision: 3."

"Host Agility Skill Levels: Riding Skill: 0, Martial Arts: 5, Control: 5."

"Host's Intelligence-based skill levels are: Battle Qi Usage: Zero, Eidetic Memory: Nine, Tactical Command: Zero."

"Host's Charisma-based skill levels are: Command: Two, Valor: Two, Near Death: Two."

The ten Potential and ten Skill Points obtained earlier were not used, as he was constantly pondering a question: should he continue down the extreme Strength and Agility dual-attribute route, or develop all four attributes evenly?

In truth, the Strength and Agility dual-attribute route was very wise in the early stages, but Renard had OCD, which made things rather awkward.

If you can't find the book by its title, you can try searching for the author. Perhaps they just changed their name!