Chapter 15

"When did this guy get in!?"

Lin Sheng's entire body stiffened. With his back pressed against the door and his hands gripping the hilt of his sword, he felt a chill run through him.

No! This is a different one!

He quickly discerned that this Rotten Swordsman was not the same one from before.

The right arm this guy used to hold his sword had been gnawed on by something, missing a large chunk of flesh. The feature was unmistakable.

This is trouble.

He did not want to die again.

He did not want to go through that life of being muddled and in a terrible state for days on end ever again.

Hiss, hiss.

The creature drew closer and closer.

Lin Sheng could even clearly see the dense, bulging pustules on its neck.

These pustules were like small blisters, packed together in dense, swollen patches.

Lin Sheng tightened his grip on the sword hilt, his muscles tensed, staring fixedly at his opponent.

Pfft!

Suddenly, the Rotten Swordsman lunged forward, its right arm swinging the blade in a rapid, pitch-black arc, thrusting toward Lin Sheng's chest.

Ahhh!!!

Lin Sheng roared in his heart, raising his longsword with both hands and swinging it forward.

The blade slashed down from above, attempting to block the opponent.

Unfortunately, the two swords missed each other entirely, each hurtling toward its own target.

Squelch!

Lin Sheng felt a sharp pain in his chest. The strength left his hands, and his sword fell by inertia, slamming into the Rotten Swordsman's left shoulder.

Thud.

The blade only managed to shave off a tiny bit of skin and flesh.

Lin Sheng looked down blankly, seeing that his chest had already been pierced.

The black blade had driven deep into his left chest, instantly shattering all his strength.

Died again.

His vision went black, and he lost consciousness.

He did not know how much time had passed, but in a hazy state, Lin Sheng slowly opened his eyes.

He was still lying on his back in his bed at home.

Outside, the sky was a grayish-white, nearly dawn. The faint sound of a rooster crowing drifted in from the distance.

"Died again."

Lin Sheng reached out and touched his chest, right over his heart. A lingering, stinging pain remained there.

It felt just like being truly stabbed.

He slowly sat up in bed. The undergarments he had changed into just yesterday were soaked through once more.

He got out of bed, quickly pulled out a fresh set, took them to the bathroom, and hurriedly wiped the sweat from his body with hot water.

Then, he changed into clean clothes.

"I can't go on like this; I have to find a way." Lin Sheng sat down at his desk, pulled open the drawer again, and took out the translation notes from before to examine them.

The notes, written in Chinese characters, were neat and orderly. He estimated that besides himself, no one in this world could understand this script.

It was the best form of encryption.

"I've looked up some information online before. Regarding swordsmanship, the content explained in these diagrams and textual annotations seems to hold some truth; it's not just nonsense or fabrication.

But I've never learned any damn swordsmanship before. This kind of material definitely couldn't have been conjured up by my own dreams. It must have come from somewhere else!"

Lin Sheng was now one hundred percent certain.

"That dream is fraught with danger. An ordinary person like me, with no ability to protect myself, is just serving myself up on a platter by going in there. Even when I fought for my life, I could barely manage to injure a crippled monster."

His gaze remained fixed on the notes and diagrams before him.

"To uncover the secrets of the dream, I must explore outside, recording the information from the books while venturing out to scout the environment.

And to go out, I need at least some self-preservation! I can't even beat a crippled monster right now. I have to find a way."

Lin Sheng fell silent, and soon, a line of thought emerged.

"Since I have swordsmanship materials in front of me, I should first try to see if there are any ways to learn it nearby. This way, I'll have the chance to verify the authenticity of these materials while also improving my ability to protect myself. After all, I do have a Cross Sword in hand when I'm in the dream."

Lin Sheng settled his mind; he had made his decision.

Before his parents woke up, he quickly ate breakfast and headed to school.

After finishing his morning classes, Lin Sheng couldn't wait to leave school and began wandering around Huaisha City.

In this era, the internet wasn't very developed yet, so if one wanted to find shops that taught specific skills, they had to rely on their own eyes.

This was even more true for something as rare as European longsword techniques.

Fortunately, although Huaisha City, where Lin Sheng lived, was a small town, it was a port city with significant foreign trade. Many foreigners frequently came and went, which in turn spurred a series of related industries.

Lin Sheng went straight to the Foreigner Street near the coast of Huaisha City.

That was the area where foreigners frequently visited, resided, and spent money.

Soon, he found the target he was looking for.

And he didn't just find one; he found three in total.

Two were private clubs, and one was a general club.

Lin Sheng immediately ruled out the two private clubs due to their exorbitant membership fees.

That left only the one remaining club.

"It might be a bit old, but it's definitely cheap."

Lin Sheng stood in the middle of a quiet, desolate side street, looking up at a shop on the second floor.

Hanging there was an inconspicuous wooden plaque with rows of small characters written on it: Tengchong Fencing Club, Black Mud Street Neighborhood Office, Black Mud Street Carrier Pigeon Association.

The three rows of text were squeezed together; it was clear that this was a single sign shared by three organizations.

Below the sign was a filthy, dilapidated stairwell, where the wooden steps creaked under the feet of people coming and going.

Beside the entrance to the stairs, two hoodlums with a ruffian air were squatting and smoking, seemingly chatting.

Lin Sheng glanced down at his school uniform, tightened his grip on his schoolbag, and walked toward the stairwell.

He followed the wooden stairs step by step up to the second floor.

Lin Sheng saw three arrows pointing in different directions drawn on the wall in red chalk.

The arrow for the Tengchong Fencing Club pointed to the right on the second floor.

He followed the arrow and turned into the second-floor corridor.

After walking about a dozen meters inside, he stopped at the entrance of an office with an open door.

A sign hung on the office door: Tengchong Fencing Hall.

The room was empty and spacious, with three rectangular black desks pushed together in a corner to form one large table, where three people were sitting and busy handling something.

Knock, knock, knock.

Lin Sheng knocked on the door.

"Hello, may I ask if this is the Tengchong Fencing Club?"

A girl sitting closest to the door turned her head to look at him.

"Who are you?"

"I want to learn authentic Naxi Swordsmanship; I was wondering if you offer that here?" Lin Sheng replied.

"If you're looking to learn Naxi Swordsmanship, you've come to the right place." The girl smiled immediately. "We are the most professional non-profit enthusiast club in all of Huaisha City."

"Enthusiast club?"

"It's just a club started by people who are interested in the same things gathering together," the girl explained.

"Come in and let's chat. Very few people are willing to learn Naxi Swordsmanship. Nowadays, boxing, mixed martial arts, and other more convenient combat styles are popular.

Swordsmanship passed down from ancient times like Naxi Swordsmanship requires you to provide your own sword, which is quite troublesome, and its practicality is poor. If you aren't truly passionate about it, it's hard to say if you'll be able to stick with the training."

The girl smiled and pulled a chair out for Lin Sheng.

The two sat down, and Lin Sheng looked around at his surroundings.

The entire office hadn't even been painted; it was just simple concrete walls.

The chair he was sitting on was also wobbly and somewhat loose.