Night Raid

Duke returned home and used the flour he had bought to make some rough bread. It did not look like much, but it tasted pretty good.

There was also a whole strip of cured meat. He cut off a third of it and steamed it, and a rich aroma soon spread through the room, making his mouth water.

The cured meat already contained all kinds of seasonings, so there was no need to add anything else.

Not caring that it was still hot, Duke tore off a long strip of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. A deep sense of satisfaction rose within him.

He had already forgotten how long it had been since he had eaten meat. The explosion of meat and fat in his mouth filled him with bliss.

"Cured meat really is delicious!" Duke continued wolfing it down, quickly finishing all the steamed meat.

He swept away the bread as well. This was the most satisfying meal he had eaten since coming to this world.

The three bags of flour and three strips of cured meat had cost more than fifty Silver Coins in total.

Duke's appetite was growing larger and larger. Even eating like this would not let him have meat every day; he could only indulge once in a while.

Uncle John's family certainly would not bear to eat the way Duke did. At most, they would slice off a piece of cured meat and put it in the pot on ordinary days. How could they bear to cut off a third and eat it all at once?

After filling his stomach, Duke continued grinding proficiency in the yard with his iron sword.

[Basic Swordsmanship: LV3 (67/700)]

He discovered that after the battle that night, his Basic Swordsmanship proficiency had increased quite a bit. It seemed combat also granted proficiency.

Practical combat gave more proficiency than everyday practice, perhaps depending on the opponent's strength.

Holding his iron sword, Duke practiced Basic Swordsmanship again and again, only stopping to rest and prepare for bed when the sky was filled with twinkling stars.

A little less than half a month passed, and everything remained peaceful during that time.

Duke continued repeating his routine of grinding proficiency and standing watch on patrol. His days were calm, and he enjoyed them. He could steadily grow stronger.

On the Skill Tree, a small bluish-green fruit had formed on the branch representing Basic Swordsmanship, and a message came to him.

[Basic Swordsmanship: level 4 (0/1000)]

[Basic Swordsmanship level increased. Constitution +0.5, Strength +0.3, Agility +0.4]

[Constitution: 6.2]

[Strength: 7.2]

[Agility: 6.5]

[Mental: 8.1]

[Free Attribute Points: 0]

Duke looked at the Skill Tree, feeling somewhat puzzled. This time, after raising Basic Swordsmanship to level 4, the attribute points he received were actually fewer than when he had raised the scythe skill to level 4.

He remembered that when he had ground the scythe skill to level 4, Constitution, Strength, and Agility had all increased by 0.5. Yet now, Strength and Agility had increased by less.

After thinking it over, Duke could only guess that his physical attributes were now relatively high, making the increases appear smaller.

But perhaps the actual improvement was the same; it only seemed smaller because it was based on his higher attributes.

"Does this have diminishing marginal returns too?" Duke mused.

That led him to another question. If this continued, then grinding experience for other skills in the future might barely provide any attribute increases at all.

Once Duke realized this, he could not help feeling worried.

Since his current method of improvement had limits, he needed to find other ways to increase his strength as soon as possible.

Duke also understood the importance of Free Attribute Points now. No matter how high his physical attributes became, they could directly increase one of them by a point.

He remembered how, at the Southern Mine some time ago, that one point of Strength had been far more effective than before.

Now that he thought about it, that one point of Strength might have been equal to 1.5 or even 2 points of his previous Strength.

At night, as usual, Duke patrolled inside and outside Enderland Town with the other members of the Militia.

Holding a torch, he looked up at the night sky. The moon was dark, and the wind was strong.

Within Enderland Town, aside from the tavern, which was still lively and noisy, the residents elsewhere had long since fallen asleep.

After the battle at the Southern Mine, Duke had gained some standing within the Militia.

To grind proficiency, he would occasionally spar with the Militia's veterans. Eventually, no one would spar with him anymore. No one wanted to be beaten one-sidedly.

Most importantly, Duke seemed tireless and could keep fighting endlessly. How could those veterans outlast such a young man? In the end, they all avoided him.

By now, Duke could not find an opponent in the Militia. No one was willing to practice with him.

Duke walked at the front of the five-man squad when he saw a group gathered at the entrance to town, seemingly up to something. He immediately became alert.

There was no curfew in Enderland Town, but few people would gather outside so late at night.

In the past, Duke had only encountered one or two drunkards who could not find their way home, and he would casually stuff them into his own house. Most people in town already knew him.

"Who are you people?" Duke demanded directly.

The leader of the group wore a cloak. He slowly approached and said with a flattering smile, "Sir, we're merchants passing through and want to spend the night in town. You know how unsafe it is outside..."

As he spoke, he silently drew closer, and before anyone noticed, he was already very near Duke's group.

Duke immediately drew his iron sword and shouted, "Take another step closer, and don't blame me for being rude!"

His abundant combat experience told him that another step would bring him into the other side's attack range. He was highly sensitive to that distance.

Unexpectedly, the man's expression changed, and a fierce look instantly appeared on his face. "Attack! Kill these few first!"

Upon hearing that, Duke immediately drew a deep breath and then shouted, "Enemy attack!"

His mind was clear. Since they were prepared to make a move, this was obviously premeditated.

If that was the case, their five-man squad likely could not stop the enemy. What he needed to do was raise the alarm first, then hold these people back until reinforcements arrived.

Duke put all his strength into the shout, his voice carrying far and long. The entire Enderland Town heard it, waking many people still asleep.

"Damn brat!" The leader was a minor boss of the Wild Wolf Bandit Group named Cole.

Cole and the other seven were the advance force. Their purpose was to silently eliminate the Militia patrols standing guard in town, then let the bandits enter to burn, kill, and loot.

They had not expected this brat to be so vigilant that he would not give them any opportunity.

And his response had been incredibly fast. He had raised the alarm decisively, causing them considerable trouble.

Cole stared at Duke, drew his longsword, and said, "Since that's the case, then go die!"

Duke noticed that beneath the man's cloak was a suit of silver-white full plate armor.

He immediately realized that the man before him was likely a troublesome opponent. He actually had the means to equip himself with full plate armor.