Leaving 1

After finishing his meditation, Anglie hurriedly changed clothes, opened the window to air the room out, and let the stale indoor air escape. It was truly unbearable. Taking his towel, washbasin, and other toiletries, he opened the door. Outside was pitch-black. Looking down both sides of the corridor, every room was quiet, with only faint snores and the occasional creak of wooden beds drifting through. Waves of cool wind swept over him, making Anglie feel much refreshed.

He hurried to the washroom at the end of the corridor and wiped himself down again before returning to his room. He used his dirty clothes to wipe up the filthy blood on the floor, then tossed them into a corner. Only then did he feel thoroughly refreshed.

"For beginners, daily meditation cannot exceed a certain limit. Otherwise, it will harm the body instead. After the three leaves of Soul-Death Grass have been used three times, they will produce a special effect on the human body, and there will be no need to search everywhere for Black Trefoil afterward." Anglie recalled the contents of the book. The limit was five hours at most.

He carefully placed the small box containing the Black Trefoil beneath his pillow, then lay directly on the bed without changing out of his clothes and slowly drifted into sleep.

Early the next morning.

Anglie woke before five. He only felt that his spirit was exceptionally vigorous and his body brimmed with energy.

Turning over and getting out of bed, he looked at the Wizard's Book on the table, then took the little box from beneath his pillow. Leaving these in the dormitory is far too unsafe. It would be better to take them to my mentor. He wrapped both items in the black cloth that had come with the things sent from home last time, carried the bundle, and went out.

It was still early, and dawn had not fully broken. There would be no carriage heading into the city at this hour. Yet he truly could not sleep either. Carrying the bundle, Anglie simply headed toward the swordsmanship field.

Passing around the dormitory and dining hall, he walked up the slope on the left. Before long, a platform halfway up the hill entered his sight.

The swordsmanship field was carpeted in green grass, with dozens of wooden Puppets standing stiffly among it. The dim light made the place seem somewhat eerie instead. The noisy chirping of insects could still be heard from the nearby woods. Behind the field stood a small grayish-white stone house where equipment was stored.

Anglie hung his bundle from a Puppet's arm, then took a wooden sword from the stone house. With two swishing sounds, he casually made a few empty slashes, the blade cutting through the air with a whistling wind. Anglie nodded in satisfaction and walked straight to the Puppet beside the one holding his bundle, preparing to begin his practice.

"Unknown humans approaching. Distance: 103 meters. Number: 3," Chip suddenly prompted.

At such an early hour, there were actually people besides him coming to the swordsmanship field? Anglie was slightly surprised, but he paid it no further mind. Occasionally, a few students would rise early to train their swordsmanship. It was not as if he had never encountered that before.

The three seemed to be male students, chatting as they walked. The hundred-meter distance quickly shrank, and their voices became clear.

"...the academy competition. I heard quite a few powerful newcomers have emerged."

"There's no suspense. The champions will definitely still be those senior students. Senior Esma's Storm Swordsmanship is simply too powerful. I heard he's already serving as a reserve captain in the Port Security Department. And Senior Jielin has already formally taken up a position in the patrol unit. Veterans like Allen, Albert, Nancy, and Alger, all renowned swordsmanship experts, aren't people a few newcomers can defeat."

"Senior Esma, the strongest in our academy, has swordsmanship far superior to everyone I saw at a swordsmanship competition in Xilan two years ago. I chose Swordsman as my major because of Senior Esma's influence. I heard Senior Alger has been coming early to practice his sword recently. Maybe we'll run into him one of these days."

As the voices drew closer, Anglie shook his head faintly, a trace of a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. He had encountered Senior Esma before. His swordsmanship was indeed formidable, tempered a thousand times over, even somewhat stronger than Anglie's Basic Swordsmanship. He likely came from an excellent background, and they had met at this very swordsmanship field. Chip had collected data on his Storm Swordsmanship, but its conclusion was that Storm Swordsmanship was a powerful technique that required a Life Energy Seed to erupt. It already belonged to the Grand Knight Level and held no reference value whatsoever for Anglie.

By comparison, Anglie's Basic Swordsmanship leaned more toward technique and precision, while Storm Swordsmanship mainly emphasized maximizing sudden bursts of power and speed. If someone without a Seed forcibly trained in it, they would only injure their body more and more, because their explosive strength would be unable to keep pace with the rhythm.

The Andes Alliance had always had a tradition of swordsmanship competitions. The academy held one every so often. During that time, the entire academy would become exceptionally bustling and noisy, and influential figures from outside would be invited to watch and judge. The participants were not merely current students, but included anyone who had ever studied at the academy. The rewards were said to be generous.

But none of that had anything to do with Anglie. His primary goal now was to enter the level of a First-Rank Apprentice as soon as possible, then wait for the Wizard organization's ship to arrive.

Anglie stopped listening and concentrated. Raising his wooden sword, he slashed straight downward again and again with hissing sounds, endlessly repeating a single movement.

When the three students came up and saw Anglie, they froze slightly. "It's Anglie, Anglie the language genius! I heard he's Mentor Adolf's most appreciated student and has already been accepted as his disciple," one of them said quietly.

"Should we go say hello?"

"Better not. Don't disturb him. I heard Anglie's archery is extremely impressive. Many people have seen him shoot ten arrows from over a hundred meters away, with nine hitting the bullseye! If there were an archery competition, he could probably rank in the top three of the entire academy! But I heard he's cold, arrogant, bad-tempered, and rarely willing to speak to anyone. Some people used to say they didn't like the look of him, but for some reason, no one says that anymore. He must have taught them a lesson."

"Then forget it. Let's practice farther away so we don't provoke him."

The three students whispered among themselves, their gazes toward Anglie becoming somewhat reverent. They found three Puppet targets some distance away, took wooden swords, and began practicing their basic movements as well.

While practicing, Anglie's sharp five senses caught every word of their chatter, and he found it rather amusing. He had already kept such a low profile at the academy, yet from their tone, it seemed he had somehow become a famous big shot. The students who had said they disliked the look of him had originally intended to teach him a lesson. They were merely ordinary youths who knew a little fighting technique, and after he knocked them down in a few moves, coupled with Mentor Adolf's backing, they had kept three paces away from him ever since. From then on, the academy knew he was not someone to be trifled with, and no one dared provoke him again.

Who would have thought that such trivial matters would become, in other people's eyes, proof that he was cold, arrogant, and bad-tempered? Anglie shook his head speechlessly and calmed himself, beginning his practice in earnest.

Over the next several days, the academy gradually became livelier and livelier. Students moved about within the academy more frequently, and sword-bearing students could often be seen walking back and forth. After practicing for several days, Anglie discovered that wooden platforms had begun to be erected around the swordsmanship field, apparently spectator stands being built for the swordsmanship competition.

The entire academy was filled with noise and excitement. Everyone discussed the swordsmanship competition, while large numbers of students prepared for it.

In the dormitory floor where Anglie lived, discussions about popular swordsmanship experts could often be heard as well. Unlike everyone around him, Anglie still silently followed his routine, meditating five hours each day in place of sleep, as though he stood apart from everyone else. He seemed utterly out of place within the whole environment. He could no longer go to the swordsmanship field, so every day he only traveled between the dormitory and the academy archery field. Aside from the first time, when meditation strengthened his constitution by 0.3, there had been no major reaction afterward. His constitution data remained completely unchanged. Yet Anglie could feel his body subtly improving and growing stronger without cease. The change was simply too slight for even Chip to provide a specific number. His spirit also became better and better, and his energy increasingly abundant. He could now meditate eight characters, a tremendous improvement from the original five.

In a room within Dormitory Building Three of Port Academy, several young men and women were gathered together, chatting.

"Hey! Casa, did you hear? That Anglie is actually studying at this academy too!"

"Anglie? Anglie Leo? That idiot and fool?" A boy was stunned.

"Who else did you think I meant?" Another boy gave a snorting laugh.

"He's quite lucky, not dying while he was running for his life, that weak little brat." A short-haired girl said with a smile, cracking something like melon seeds as she ate with relish. "Catherine, what courses are you and your brother planning to choose next? The courses here are too expensive. I'm only taking painting." She turned and asked the girl beside her.

Beside her sat a beautiful young girl with shoulder-length golden hair, slowly sipping a cup of black tea. She ignored her female companion's question and instead frowned. "Anglie Leo? I heard there's a formidable student in the academy named Anglie now. Could it be him?"

"It's him." The first boy to speak chuckled. "That kid is actually doing pretty well. He cozied up to Mentor Adolf from linguistics. But he's only lucky, yet he really thinks he's somebody now. Hmph!" His face showed disdain, but a trace of jealousy and envy leaked from his eyes.

"That's true. Anglie was always rather foolish back then." Catherine smiled as well.

Five days later...

"Anglie, do you know someone named Catherine?"

Rog, the student living across from Anglie, suddenly asked while they were eating together.

The two sat facing each other at a dining hall table. Though they were not familiar, they occasionally sat together to eat when they met and exchanged a few casual words. Apart from Senior Sophia, Rog was the only student in the entire academy with whom Anglie could hold a conversation. Rog was also the freckled, black-haired boy who had first reminded Anglie about the course schedule on the back of the information sheet.

"Catherine?" Anglie froze. "What about her?" He remembered that the viscount's daughter Anglie had pursued in the past was also named Catherine. The original Anglie had fallen from his horse and died because of jealousy over a woman.

Rog scooped a spoonful of yellow butter onto white bread, then reached for a bottle of strawberry jam. "I heard she's a new student who just arrived. Some time ago, she and her brother somehow offended Vivac. Vivac brought some people from outside and cornered the few of them. When they were driven into a corner, that woman Catherine actually shouted in front of a whole crowd that you were her fiancé. Vivac only left because he was wary of you." A teasing smile sat on his face. "But since you don't know her, these people are going to be interesting." Though Rog's family background could not compare with a major figure like Adolf, it was still much stronger than that of ordinary Lineages who had fled from Rudin Kingdom.

"Is that so?" Anglie could not help laughing. He picked up a fruit resembling an apple and gently took a bite.

The Candia Family had not gone through the incident of the baron being ambushed, so they had reacted a little too slowly to Saladin's invasion. Several of their major combatants had died along the way. One of them had been the corpse Anglie and the baron encountered back then, though he had forgotten the person's name. The current Viscount Candia, like the baron, had lost both title and territory to rely upon. It was a miracle that the old man had managed to escape alive to Maluya. "What is that woman's full name?" he asked casually.

"Catherine Candia." Rog bit off a huge mouthful of bread, his words somewhat muffled.

Sure enough, it was her.

Anglie smiled and said nothing more.