Stormveil · Stormveil

"Eh?"

Lu Mingfei stared blankly at the old knight, unable to make sense of it for a moment.

"As the Storm Lord perished, the Storm Knights were utterly erased by the Golden Family. I alone remain to uphold our creed, and I too shall decay..." the old knight said slowly. "Therefore, you need not pledge allegiance to anyone, nor do you bear any responsibility. You need only take up the banner and follow the path of Dragon Communion to gain the precious knowledge passed down through the Storm Knights for ages.

Will you accept?"

There was such a good deal?

Lu Mingfei instantly grew suspicious.

Last time, there had also been an old man who had talked him into it, going on about a 36,000-yuan annual scholarship before tricking him into Cassel College and making him his student. That old man was named Goodrian. He was not even a professor, and his only student was Fingal von Frings, who had spent eight years studying without graduating...

"Can I refuse?"

he asked cautiously.

"Of course you can."

Unexpectedly, the old knight was so reasonable.

"Though the knight order exists in name alone, with only me remaining to uphold it, a knight must still abide by the knightly code and walk the knightly path. I will not force anyone to make a choice."

Lu Mingfei let out a sigh of relief. This old master is a good man...

"Then," the old knight said, "I shall follow the order's regulations and impose the ultimate penalty upon one who trespassed into the knight order's holy ground—the Church of Dragon Communion: execution by beheading."

"Since the order consists of only me, I shall serve as both executioner and overseer. The sentence will be carried out immediately."

As he spoke, the old knight unhurriedly drew the twin swords from his back.

Clang!

"Sir, sir," Lu Mingfei hurriedly raised both hands in surrender. "I confess, I confess... No, wait, I'll join! I'll join, all right?"

The old knight did not put away his swords. He merely said, "Then kneel."

In his nervousness, Lu Mingfei dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Who told you to kneel on both knees?!" The old man was so angry that his beard quivered and his eyes bulged. "One knee, one knee!"

"Oh, oh, oh, oh..."

Lu Mingfei hurriedly tucked one leg back and looked up at the old knight with pleading eyes.

"Lower your head!"

the old knight said, frustrated by his failure to meet expectations.

The black-haired youth immediately lowered his head.

"Then..."

The old knight slowly raised the longsword in his hand and touched Lu Mingfei's shoulders in turn, his movements steady and precise:

"In the name of the last descendant of the Storm Lord, formerly the third-seat knight of the Storm Knights and now their first knight, I grant legitimacy to this act and dub you a knight.

In the names of the storm and the Ancient Dragon, I command you to uphold the paths of justice, loyalty, and courage. Do you object?"

"No," Lu Mingfei said.

"Rise," said the old knight. His aged voice was distant, as though it had crossed the river of time. "You who come from the East..."

"China," Lu Mingfei reminded him quietly.

"You who come from China..."

"Lu Mingfei."

"Lu Mingfei of China." The old knight nodded solemnly, his silvery beard trembling faintly.

"From this moment onward, you shall take your place among the Storm Knights as a formal knight.

I shall teach you swordsmanship, battle skills, and incantations born of the storm."

Dusk had arrived, casting their shadows upon the stone wall—one long, one short; one old, one young.

In this unfamiliar world, he had finally found his first official place to belong.

Smack!

The scabbard slammed viciously into Lu Mingfei's back.

"Straighten your back, straighten it! How many times do I have to say it? You can't even hold a proper ready stance, and you want to be a knight?"

Lu Mingfei instinctively straightened up and tightened his grip on the longsword. The soreness in his arms made him feel half-dead.

"Strike!"

At the old knight's command, Lu Mingfei immediately put all his strength into it. The sword tip swept upward in an arc, whistling through the air.

"You're exerting force wrong! Use your heart! Your heart! I'm not telling you to strain like some savage bull!"

Smack!

The old knight kicked Lu Mingfei in the ass.

"At this rate, you're not even as good as one of Godrick's knights!"

Lu Mingfei dearly wanted to argue. In a one-on-one duel, he had a sixty or seventy percent chance of beating a Godrick Knight from Gatefront Ruins. But considering that he had relied entirely on memorizing attack patterns, and that the knight had already lost its mind, he obediently kept his mouth shut.

"Forget it."

The old knight glared at Lu Mingfei and raised his longsword—the old knight's other sword was in Lu Mingfei's hands.

"Just treat me as an enemy and slash at me!"

"But..."

Lu Mingfei hesitated.

The old knight looked at him contemptuously. "You don't actually think you can hurt me, do you?"

Lu Mingfei had nothing to say. He skillfully assumed his ready stance, swung his blade, and slashed at the old knight.

"Your forehand is sloppy!"

The old man turned his blade sideways and effortlessly blocked Lu Mingfei's attack, then kicked him in the abdomen with his back foot.

"Your defense lacks strength!"

Lu Mingfei toppled backward and was kicked three meters away. He spat out a mouthful of blood, the pain leaving him nearly unable to straighten his back.

"What?"

The old man gave a cold laugh.

"You're done already? And you still dream of defeating Margit, the Fell Omen? Countless Tarnished stronger than you have died beneath his sword!"

Without saying a word, Lu Mingfei climbed to his feet. He silently pulled out the Flask of Crimson Tears from his chest, drank the Tears to heal his wounds, then pulled the greatsword from the ground and charged again.

"Too slow! Is this how slowly you recover your stance after being knocked away by an enemy?!"

The old knight raised his greatsword high and brought it straight down toward the youth's head with mountain-splitting force, startling Lu Mingfei into raising his sword to block!

Clang!

A tremendous recoil ran through him. Pain shot through Lu Mingfei's wrist, and the greatsword was knocked straight from his hands.

"Outrageous!" Another blow from the scabbard. "You can even lose the weapon in your own hands. Can you call yourself a knight like this?"

"Unacceptable. Again!"

"You want to become a Storm Knight with that little resolve?"

Lu Mingfei struggled to rise from the ground. He simply drained the Flask in one gulp, picked up the greatsword, and charged the silver knight again with a howl—only to be cleanly dealt with once more.

Much later, the sky gradually darkened. Lu Mingfei no longer had an ounce of energy left; both body and mind had reached the peak of exhaustion.

Several days had passed since the old knight began training him.

At first, it was basic swordsmanship instruction. The old man had handed the greatsword from his back to Lu Mingfei and told him to learn how to use it.

Heaven knew, the heaviest weapon Lu Mingfei had ever used was a Lordsworn's Straight Sword. How had he ever seen a greatsword of this design? He had to grip it with both hands just to swing it.

And the description of this greatsword was rather strange as well.

"Exile Knight Greatsword, a fine greatsword of ancient design.

A weapon granted to knights who lost their homelands for some reason or crime.

It is said that most of these knights are sent to frontier lands, where they take root while carrying the disappointment in their hearts."

What did that mean?

Based on what the old knight had said earlier, Lu Mingfei vaguely guessed that these so-called "knights who lost their homelands" were probably the Storm Knights. They had lost their homeland due to some upheaval and been exiled to the frontier, so it made sense for the old man to say he was the only knight left.

But when he had knighted Lu Mingfei, he had called himself "the last descendant of the Storm Lord." What did that mean?

Yet Lu Mingfei had no time at all to think about these questions.