Growth

Spring turned to autumn, and the continent of Lordaeron entered the season of harvest.

Pale golden sunlight slanted across the land, dispelling the slight chill. The high, distant sky was devoid of clouds, showing only a touch of heart-stirring deep blue.

The roads of Stratholme were carpeted with withered yellow leaves. The dry foliage danced in the autumn breeze, while the trees they surrounded stood bare, like unyielding palms reaching toward the heavens.

It was the same small training ground where they had first met, and the same two figures of vastly different sizes.

Wearing simple armor and sporting a crisp, short haircut, the young warrior held a wooden shield half his height and shouted at the boy attacking him: "Yes, lower your center of gravity! Use the strength of your entire body to strike your opponent!"

"Adjust the angle of your shield, and thrust your sword the moment you make contact!"

After once again using his shield to deflect the boy's attack and skillfully sidestepping his momentum, the young man ceased his constant footwork and signaled a pause to the panting boy. "It has been nearly half an hour, Alvin. I think you should rest."

"Understood, Instructor Uther," Alvin said, bending over and bracing himself with his longsword, gasping for air.

The boy, nearing his limit, did not sit down immediately. He kept his instructor's teachings firmly in mind: seize every second to recover your stamina, but never sit down without being prepared. To survive on the battlefield, one must remain vigilant at all times!

In the blink of an eye, half a year had passed. Uther had not failed Archbishop Faol's expectations; although the boy's constitution had not improved drastically, he had caught up to the average child, and his chest and limbs were beginning to show the faint definition of muscle.

After the stubborn prince demonstrated his perseverance and near-maniacal effort to Uther, the rigid warrior abandoned the disdain he felt upon their first meeting. He began to truly value the boy's training, while simultaneously being slowly won over by the boy's spirit.

The experienced warrior brought out nearly all his best techniques—the essentials of every weapon, how to face enemies on the battlefield, and how to protect oneself reasonably. Though not yet old, Uther was a veteran of many campaigns and highly proficient in all manner of martial arts.

However, he knew his own situation best. While the outside world hailed him as a genius, Alvin knew he had stumbled into his talent for the priesthood purely by accident. As for the rest, it was merely the precociousness and unconstrained perspective of a soul from another world.

Alvin understood one thing clearly: half a year was not enough to make him a master of all weapons. Although he was interested in close-quarters combat, it was a pity that his talent for martial arts, when compared to his peers, could only be considered slightly above average.

Therefore, the boy cautiously invested his limited energy into a few areas that would prove valuable in the future: the longsword, the shield, and the warhammer.

The longsword could effectively deal with unarmored Gnolls and Trolls, the shield was for self-protection, and the warhammer had exceptional effects against enemies in heavy armor. Of course, during training, the boy used specially made, smaller-sized equipment; he could hardly handle a ten-pound warhammer that was nearly as tall as he was.

Upon receiving permission to rest, the young prince did not sit down. Instead, leaning on his longsword, he panted while staring at the green light screen projected onto his retina by the system.

Name: Alvin
Languages: Common, Elvish, Dwarvish
Stamina: 9, Strength: 9, Agility: 13, Intelligence: 15, Perception: 22, Willpower: 14
Class: Level 3 Priest / Level 2 Warrior
Domains: Good Domain, Travel Domain
0-Level Spells: Create Water, Cure Minor Wounds, Detect Magic, Light, Purify Food and Drink, Read Magic, Mending, Virtue
1st-Level Spells: Bless, Divine Favor, Shield of Faith, Summon Monster I, Entropic Shield, Detect Undead, Bane, Bless Water (Protection from Evil) (Expeditious Retreat)
2nd-Level Spells: Bear's Endurance, Bull's Strength, Eagle's Splendor
Feats: Extend Spell, Skillful Caster; Combat Expertise, Weapon Finesse (Longsword/Warhammer), Shield Proficiency

Although he carried a personal system, Alvin did not possess the ability to gain experience through slaughter as seen in the novels of his past life; he could only improve his strength through constant effort and training. Yet, no matter how hard he struggled, the two disadvantages of limited time and a young body restricted his development.

Over the past half-year, the boy's physical attributes had increased due to growth and exercise, but for Alvin, who lived with a constant sense of crisis, this was far from enough! The Scourge was like a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, making him feel as though he were living in peril every moment.

Furthermore, the unstable foundation caused by a lack of activity in his early childhood was an insurmountable hurdle. Compared to his constitution, which was on par with his peers, Arthas—who was a year older and currently in the capital of Lordaeron—was practically immune to all illnesses.

If there were no shortcuts, his path in combat would likely stop at the intermediate level. Thinking of this, the boy felt a bit dejected. It wasn't that he wasn't trying; it was just that the enemies in his memories were too powerful.

Uther, who had been observing the boy's every move from the side, walked over to the drooping boy and patted his shoulder gently with his large hand, his voice resonant and warm. "Do not be discouraged, child. You are still too young. As long as you persevere, by the time you reach my age, you will likely be my equal."

The point is, even at that age, you won't be able to beat Arthas, Alvin thought, feeling a sense of internal mockery toward the well-meaning Uther, not knowing what to say.

To prevent Arthas from falling into the path of a Death Knight, the best way was to wipe out the Cult of the Damned in advance, or to change the tragedy of the Culling of Stratholme. To accomplish either of these goals, he had to rely on Uther, who would eventually become the leader of the Order of the Silver Hand.

But he could not reveal the secrets in his heart. He could only continue to play the role of the obedient child, nodding helplessly to the rigid warrior who had just begun his journey as a mentor, signaling that he would not be rash and would dutifully follow his instructions.

Abberton hurried from outside the training ground to the two of them. After offering a salute, he quickly conveyed the message to the prince: "Prince Alvin, the Archbishop wishes to see you!"

"Instructor?"

Alvin did not move immediately, but looked at Uther standing to the side, asking cautiously. Only after the warrior nodded in approval did the boy bow and follow the guard away.

In the old white corridor, hurried footsteps broke the usual silence. Alvin tugged on the guard's cloak, his eyes filled with curiosity. "What is the matter? Why the rush?"

"That Gnoll has returned!"