Initial Training

After confessing to Red, Werther glanced at the money in the box and smiled.

He first went to a clothing store and casually bought several sets of durable-looking clothes and underwear to change into. Then he bought toiletries. After thinking it over, he also bought a full set of weights ranging from five to fifty kilograms and told the owner to deliver them to Sword Intent Hall.

He looked at the exquisite black pocket watch he had just bought. It was already nearly six in the evening. What should he do now? Eat first, perhaps.

He found a decent restaurant and ordered the house specialty seafood noodles, along with a piece of meat that looked incredibly appetizing, complete with a long bone.

Before long, the noodles and meat arrived. After only two bites, Werther's experience of fine food was refreshed. It was truly delicious. The unfamiliar seafood had a uniquely fresh flavor, while the meat was rich and juicy. It would have been perfect with wine.

Unfortunately, when he had ordered wine earlier, the waiter had refused to serve it because Werther was underage. Bad review.

After eating, he returned to the Sword Hall and casually found an empty room. It was fully furnished and even had its own bathroom.

Werther went to bed early, looking forward to the next day.

The next morning, Werther got up at five. The moment he stepped outside, he saw Nisse talking with a blue-haired, braided, thin middle-aged man a little over 1.6 meters tall.

Werther walked over and called out, "Good morning, Master."

"Morning. This is your senior brother, Rom Roy. From now on, you'll learn the basics of swordsmanship from him," Nisse introduced.

"Haha, junior brother, we'll be partners from now on. Please take care of me," the short senior brother said warmly.

"Partners? Oh, I see. Then I'll have to rely on your guidance, Senior Brother." Werther was confused at first, then realized that Roy was the other partner—the one who did the most work and received the least money.

"Since Junior Brother is already up, let me explain your future training schedule. We'll do basic training in the morning, eat and rest at noon, then physical training in the afternoon. When there's business, Junior Brother will train on his own first. Otherwise, I'll guide you the whole time. At night, Master will personally instruct you."

Roy spoke to Werther with great warmth. After all, Werther would become the source of his personal treasury. Judging from what Master had revealed yesterday, he would earn at least a five-figure return every month. The thought delighted him for half the night.

Werther looked at Roy. He was fine when he wasn't smiling, but once he smiled, he gave off an inexplicably sleazy air. Combined with his stature, it made Werther wonder if this man was really a swordsman.

Nisse seemed to see through Werther's thoughts. "Your Senior Brother Roy has the most solid foundation among all my disciples. Learn well from him."

With that, he turned and headed toward the dining hall, apparently to eat breakfast.

After hastily eating breakfast with Roy, they headed straight for the back mountain.

Upon arriving at the back mountain, Werther saw a wooden sword and a wooden mask in Roy's hands.

The mask exposed only the eyes, with breathing holes around the mouth and nose. He had no idea what it was for.

Roy handed the mask to Werther and told him to put it on.

Werther put it on in confusion and asked, "Senior Brother, what are we doing?"

"This is to train your most basic combat instincts. If an untrained person is struck in the head with a sword or a fist, their first reaction is to close their eyes. But in battle, if you really close your eyes, you might as well announce your own death sentence. So first, you need to overcome your instincts and gradually adapt. At the beginning, you'll wear the mask. Eventually, you'll remove it and take the hits directly. The final result will be that even if you die in battle, you won't close your eyes out of fear."

As soon as he finished speaking, he swung the wooden sword at Werther's head.

Sure enough, Werther, who had never received combat training, instinctively shut his eyes. With a bang, he was struck on the head.

Once he came to his senses, Werther found it unbelievable. He had clearly tried his best to restrain himself, yet he had still closed his eyes. He shouted for Roy to do it again and continued taking hits, beginning to train himself to suppress that instinct.

In the blink of an eye, the morning was over. Even with the mask on, Werther had been beaten dizzy by Roy's wooden sword.

Although he could keep his eyes open, he still could not completely overcome his instincts. Every time he watched the wooden sword descend toward his head, he still subconsciously squinted.

After swinging the wooden sword all morning, Roy was panting as well. He checked the time.

"Junior Brother Werther, it's noon. Time to eat."

He was about to lead Werther back to the Sword Hall dining hall when, after only two steps, he heard Werther call out from behind him.

"Senior Brother Roy, you've worked hard all morning. Let's go into town and find a restaurant to reward ourselves. My treat."

"That wouldn't be right. It's only the first day, and you're already treating me." Roy scratched his head and tried to decline.

"What's wrong with that? Why be polite with me? We're partners." Werther took off the mask and dragged Roy toward town without giving him a chance to refuse.

Roy was still a little embarrassed, but he could not withstand Werther's enthusiasm and could only follow him.

At first, he had thought this junior brother would order him around because he was the information provider. Now, however, it seemed this junior brother was pretty good. Though young, he knew how to handle people, and he was remarkably determined in training. He had been struck by a wooden sword all morning without complaining once.

They found a decent restaurant, ordered several good dishes, and began eating. Both of them had been exhausted all morning and were starving, so their table manners were truly hard to praise.

After eating and resting for a while, they returned to the back mountain. This time, Roy did not make Werther wear the mask. Instead, he had Werther run laps around the huge open clearing.

Werther asked how many laps he needed to run. Roy smiled and answered that there was no limit—he could run as many as he could. And when he could no longer run, Roy would give him a surprise.

Werther stared at Roy in astonishment. Though he had no idea what this guy was plotting, he started running anyway.

One lap, two laps. By the third lap, Werther truly could not run anymore. Just as he was about to stop, he saw Roy rushing toward him with unmistakably bad intentions.

Before he could understand what was happening, a sharp pain exploded across his back, and he staggered forward two steps.

When he turned around, he saw that Roy had struck him across the back with the wooden sword. Just as he was about to ask what the hell Roy was doing, he saw Roy raise the wooden sword again.

This time, Werther understood. So this was the damn surprise. If he could not run anymore, Roy would give him some motivation. Being chased by a dog always brought out one's potential.

Werther did not dare say another word and immediately started running forward. His legs, which had felt as heavy as lead just moments ago, actually began moving quickly again.

A strange sight soon appeared in the clearing on the back mountain: a short middle-aged man wielding a wooden sword "hunted" a child in front of him. The child occasionally cursed at the short man behind him and often gave him the middle finger—sometimes with one hand, sometimes with both. The scene was both hilarious and bizarre.

After running and stopping for several hours, Werther felt like he was about to die. He had no idea how many laps he had run, yet the bastard behind him was still chasing him. Was he a dog?

What happened to basic training? What happened to getting along peacefully? Partners? Agreeing to train with you was the biggest damn mistake of my life!

Those were Werther's final thoughts before he passed out. His legs gave way, and he fell forward. In his haze, he felt a hand grab his shoulder, heard something indistinct, then felt himself being slung over someone's shoulder and carried away.

This guy... wasn't so bad after all. With that thought, Werther completely lost consciousness.

Roy looked at his unconscious junior brother draped over his shoulder and smiled.

When he had first heard Master mention this junior brother who would bring them a major business deal, Roy had thought he was probably just a lucky guy who had accidentally learned some secret information.

But after meeting him in person, Roy felt differently. How should he put it? This kid gave off the feeling of an adult. He knew how to be courteous and how to build connections.

By the end of the afternoon's training, when the other boy had been beaten into a frantic retreat, Roy had learned that this junior brother was clever, had a terrible temper, and possessed an incredibly sharp tongue.

"Well, all in all, not bad. Let's train him for a while longer. I wonder whether he'll join us in the end, or whether he'll even qualify to join us. I should head back and report to Master. So that was why Master suddenly called me back—this was his plan, huh?"

With that, Roy headed toward the Sword Hall.