The barracks lay west of the town. It covered a large area and could house five hundred people, but there were only fifty soldiers now, with a few families scattered throughout the camp.
When Romon reached the entrance, he followed his agreement with Richard. After reporting at the gate and waiting a while, he was led inside.
The barracks had its own watchtowers, walls, and warehouses. But in the empty grounds, only a dozen or so off-duty soldiers were training. One of them was Squad Captain Richard.
"Captain Richard, I'm here." Romon smiled and greeted him, appearing quite familiar.
"Mm. The soldiers informed me. Sit down." Richard had been practicing swordsmanship alone and only stopped then. His chest rose and fell slightly. He took a deep breath and quickly calmed himself from the strenuous exercise. "What do you think you should learn?"
"I want to learn everything, but I don't know what matters most." Romon scratched his head and spread his hands, looking as though he would entirely follow an expert's advice.
"Then let's have a match first, so I can see your level." Richard nodded faintly, then suddenly remembered something. "Right, your short sword is still at the blacksmith's. You should be able to pick it up tomorrow. I'll get you a wooden sword, and then we'll begin."
"Sure. You can't train with a real sword." Romon agreed casually, clenching his fists with some excitement.
Richard neither agreed nor disagreed. He turned and fetched two wooden practice swords, handing one to Romon. "Also, here are your twenty-five silver coins. Your Adventurer's License is in there too!"
He tossed over a jingling cloth pouch and watched Romon.
Romon accepted the wooden sword and money pouch, casually weighing the pouch in his hand. He could not tell how much was inside and was about to open it when he suddenly felt someone's gaze fixed on his neck. Looking up, he saw Richard holding his wooden sword level, its tip pointed straight at his throat. He was instantly left speechless.
"You've already lost!" Richard showed no embarrassment at all, his expression perfectly normal.
"You..." Romon was utterly stifled, his face flushing red as he forced the words out one by one. "But you never said start!"
"No, it had already started." Richard flicked his wrist and drew a graceful flourish with the sword before sheathing it and standing with one hand resting on the hilt. He said blandly, "I told you I'd get you a wooden sword, and then we would begin. You said yes, which meant you agreed."
Romon had no reply. For a moment, he was so angered by the other man's twisted logic that he could barely speak. "So what exactly did that teach me?"
"First lesson: use your brain in a fight." Richard spoke as he moved. "Relying only on your body might look impressive, but—" With a smack, the two wooden swords collided. Richard deflected Romon's attack outward with a backhand block, immediately sending him sprawling.
Romon fell face-first onto the ground. The pouch of silver coins against his chest made him feel awful, and his face twisted in discomfort. He nearly vomited up the mushroom soup he had drunk that morning.
Richard chuckled and stared at Romon on the ground. "Why did you launch a sneak attack just now?"
Romon pushed off the ground and sprang backward several steps before climbing to his feet. One hand covered his chest while the other pointed his sword at Richard. His expression was not good, but he remained wary, eyes fixed on Richard. Only after confirming that Richard had no intention of attacking did he say, "You never said we'd stopped, so we were still fighting. If we were still fighting, how was that a sneak attack?"
"Mm, not bad. Your mind is fairly quick." Richard smiled faintly. "It was I who failed to consider that."
Richard then strode forward and attacked again. His offensive was swift and sharp. In only a few seconds, there was a light smack as his wooden sword struck Romon's sword arm.
Romon felt his arm go numb, and it immediately became weak and powerless.
But Romon endured the pain in his right hand, gritted his teeth, and instantly reached out with his left hand to catch the falling wooden sword. Another smack followed, and Richard struck his left hand weak as well.
With a clatter, the wooden sword fell onto the training ground.
"Let's stop for now." Richard smiled.
"Fine!" Romon's chest heaved as he panted. A bitter smile appeared on his face. Then he took a long breath, calmed the frustration in his heart, shook his head helplessly, and nodded. "Fine, then we'll pause."
"Heh, then let's sit down and talk." Richard smiled faintly. "Well, do you want to hear my assessment of you?"
"Sure, let's hear it." Romon sat on the ground, both arms hanging limply at his sides.
"Your physique is average. Neither your endurance nor your explosive power is remarkable, though your bodily coordination is worth training." Richard chuckled. "Other than that, the only thing worth praising is that your mind is fairly nimble."
There were very few soldiers here with intelligence at that level. It was roughly the level of someone on Earth who had gotten into a second-tier university entirely through his own efforts.
"Physique is difficult to improve in a short time, so we can only do our best." Richard sighed helplessly. "For you, coordination is a direction worth working on. But if we're talking about something that can be learned quickly, it should be combat thinking."
Romon listened silently as feeling gradually returned to both his arms.
"Still, you were already quick-witted, so that hardly counts as teaching you." Richard continued, seeming to recall bygone days and looking somewhat lonely. "After I'd gone through life-and-death situations a few times and witnessed some partings of life and death, I naturally came to take things more lightly."
Romon waited quietly.
"Come, stand up. Your arms should be able to move now." Only after finishing his recollection did Richard say, "Your sword grip has many mistakes. I'll correct them."
"But before that, tell me what you think." Richard said blandly.
"Well, if I had to say it... when attacking, I would first determine the distance between myself and the target, then calculate my current attack range..." Romon considered his wording, organizing his thoughts so they would not sound too jumbled.
"Mm, you are indeed not bad. Then tell me, how do you determine your attack range?" Curiosity appeared on Richard's face.
Romon held the sword level in one hand. Holding the wooden sword level was already a heavy strain on his weakened arm, making the blade tremble slightly. "Without considering footwork and only looking at the upper body, my maximum attack range is the combined length of my entire arm and the sword." Then he held the sword across his chest. "The available attack range naturally lies within this circle."
"Mm, not bad. Today, I'll correct your sword stance." Richard smiled without committing himself, then continued, "And I'll tell you about footwork as well."
Richard spoke for a long time and in great detail. On swordsmanship alone, he explained the force applied to every section of the blade, from its tip to its edge. Only when another guard came to inform him that his shift was almost due did he leave, telling Romon to practice on his own and instructing him to return tomorrow.
Romon trained diligently, sweating in the drill yard. During that time, he ate a simple lunch delivered by a guard, then continued training until two in the afternoon before leaving the barracks.
After leaving the barracks, Romon spent ten silver coins on more food. Although he still had food in plastic bags in his space, it was too precious for him to bear eating. He resolved not to eat such food unless absolutely necessary. As for the renewable peaches, those did not matter.
He also bought some strong liquor for disinfection rather than drinking, along with clean gauze and some Stop Bleeding herbs. After calculating his remaining money, he found that he was short on funds again.
After returning to his room, he counted his money and took out his Adventurer's License to examine it.
This Adventurer's License was only a Temporary Adventurer's Permit, but it still bore a magical mark. Though it was an extremely simple magical mark, it ensured that most people could not forge it. Furthermore, every completed task could be recorded at the Mercenary Guild. Although the information in the magical mark was very simple, it could still prove one's experience and qualifications.
Romon was extremely delighted. This was the first genuine magical item he had seen in this world!
After examining it repeatedly for a while, he finally put it into his space.
Over the following week, Romon often went to receive Richard's instruction. In fact, after the first two days, Romon had basically mastered Basic Footwork and Basic Swordsmanship—truly effective martial techniques all began with a few simple movements such as chopping, slashing, and blocking.
After teaching Romon these, Richard refused to teach him anything more, saying he could continue once Romon had practiced them thoroughly.
Since he was all alone in this world and could rely only on his strength, Romon trained these basic skills quite diligently. He did not believe low-level martial techniques were useless.
Before he knew it, time passed like this.
This time, a translucent information panel appeared, floating in his field of vision with a faint glow as a large amount of data emerged before Qian Ming's eyes.
Name: Romon (Qian Pinji) Life Race: Human Class: First Authority Holder of the Space, Level 1 Druid Attributes: Strength 10 (10), Agility 15 (10), Constitution 10 (10), Intelligence 13 (10), Perception 15 (10), Charisma 15 (10) Skill List: Permanently Fixed—Detect Aura Basic Footwork Level 1 Basic Swordsmanship Level 1
Though this week of training had been brief, two basic skills had appeared in the skill list, and Romon's bearing had changed greatly. Originally, Romon possessed a young man's vigor, as well as the natural, harmonious air produced by Druid training and closeness to nature. After a little tempering, he had gained a sense of steadiness as well.
Even training that began by tempering the body did not merely reshape the body; it could reshape the mind as well.
Of course, over the past week, not only had the previous plants been absorbed, but a new kind called "Bluegrass" had also been added. It was a highly practical and marketable herb, an indispensable ingredient in healing potions, and slightly more expensive than other herbs.
Romon could now openly ask Ansen for a batch of seeds, scattering them across the entire newly appeared acre of land.
October was not the season for planting these seeds, but that did not matter inside the space.
Strictly speaking, Bluegrass normally had a growth cycle of three months. In the space, that meant exactly four harvests a year. The growing conditions there were excellent, with no insect infestations or disease. Even without the space's bonus, the harvest would certainly be high quality. At three hundred kilograms of dried grass per acre, four harvests a year would produce fifteen hundred kilograms. And the market price was one silver coin per kilogram!
What an astonishing figure! At the thought of it, Romon felt immensely satisfied.
It seemed his happy days in this world were about to begin.
Just as he watched the seeds sprout and grow each day, Fafier and Nick finally persuaded their families through difficult negotiations, obtained permission, and finished their preparations to gather wild goods in the forest.
!!
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