Dream Entry: Swordsmanship Proficiency

The salty sea breeze called Xia Lun back to consciousness.

He opened his eyes. The golden sunlight outside was somewhat glaring. After a moment of disorientation, he climbed out of bed.

"It's noon. There are still two hours until the negotiations with Monster." He glanced at the wall clock and muttered to himself.

During his recent sleep, he had not entered a lucid dream. Instead, he had simply recovered his energy through deep sleep.

At that moment, he felt brimming with energy. The fatigue brought on by tense fighting and successive mental battles had all vanished like steam beneath the warm sunlight.

Perhaps counterintuitively, after staying up all night, a short nap could restore energy better than a long sleep.

"It's time to act." He took a deep breath, picked up the shortsword and flintlock pistol beside the table, and quickly left the room.

It was noon. Stifling sunlight filtered through the clouds onto the deck, as though it intended to ferment the gradually rotting corpses together with the seawater.

Tiny flies buzzed around like an inescapable dark cloud, circling the corpses.

"Ah, the second sacrifice is about to begin." The doctor stood in the shadows, muttering to himself. His voice was indistinct, as if he were swallowing saliva. "Ah, rotten offerings. What will happen this time, hehehe..."

Xia Lun's gaze slowly swept across the crowd. Under the stifling sunlight, an atmosphere of tension and worry gradually grew amid the silence.

Geliide puffed on her pipe one mouthful at a time, while the priest clasped his holy emblem and prayed quietly. Only the old man still wore that gloomy expression.

"Don't worry. No one will die." Xia Lun reassured them as he grabbed a somewhat decayed corpse and threw it straight into the cargo hold.

Like a broken rag doll, the corpse fell stiffly into the dark hold. About a second later, a dull thud that made their teeth ache came from inside.

"Thud."

The dull sound was like a church bell. Soon afterward, the wet slapping sounds of flesh squirming rose again.

Without the slightest hesitation, Xia Lun grabbed a second corpse and threw it down as well.

At that moment, Xia Lun felt his back turn clammy. He did not know whether he was sweating from the heat or from nervousness.

Though Xia Lun knew rationally that Monster could not possibly flip the table over such a minor salami-slicing strategy, now that it was time to carry it out, he still felt somewhat worried and tense.

His heartbeat quickened.

Thump, thump... Thump, thump...

Perhaps a long time had passed, or perhaps only an instant. Monster's black tentacles slowly emerged from the cargo hold.

"Fresh corpses. Very good." Monster's shriek came from the dark hold. "Fulfill agreement. Receive reward."

Fresh corpses? These corpses were practically rotten.

Xia Lun suddenly raised his eyes, stunned.

As his thoughts raced, he suddenly realized something.

Perhaps Monster could not distinguish between fresh corpses and rotten ones at all!

And it did not want corpses in order to eat them!

"Treasure. White Bird Beach. Cliff." Monster shrieked intermittently. "Cave in cliff. Palm tree beside it. Treasure is inside!"

"How much money is in there?" Xia Lun feigned eagerness and asked in rapid succession. "Is there enough for all of us to divide?"

Upon hearing Xia Lun's words, Monster seemed to laugh twice.

"More corpses. More information." Monster hissed deeply. "More dead people. Fewer people to divide treasure. You, me, alliance. People dividing treasure, enemies, food."

Xia Lun's expression did not change, but his heart suddenly sank.

If Monster did not eat corpses at all, then coupled with its rather blunt words just now, its purpose in demanding fresh corpses became obvious.

Monster deliberately wanted corpses in order to reduce the number of survivors and sow division among them. And the ultimate purpose of that division was to slaughter every last survivor!

In other words, Monster had never intended to negotiate from the very beginning! Negotiation was merely a means for it to divide the survivors.

Monster's original plan had been to play along for now, then turn hostile and start killing once they neared Perilous Earth Island!

He had to find a way to keep it steady first. Xia Lun narrowed his eyes slightly.

As his thoughts raced, he smiled. "We need enough hands to sail the ship. We still need at least three days to reach Perilous Earth Island. Now isn't the time to show our cards."

"Yes. Not time to show cards." Monster hissed deeply. "Keep raising stakes. Agreement remains. Tomorrow, two fresh pieces of meat. Continue..."

Along with its shriek, Monster's tentacles retreated into the dark cargo hold once more. A few seconds later, even the stench of rotting corpses on deck was carried away by the sea breeze, and the last traces left behind by the dead disappeared.

As Monster retreated into the hold, the smile vanished from Xia Lun's face as well.

At that moment, an intense sense of urgency rose within him.

Although the Anti-Monster Alliance was growing stronger by the day, as was he, Monster's words and actions today showed that it too was preparing to flip the table and turn hostile. In other words, while he was preparing to act, his enemy had not been idle either.

When both sides were acting in secret, whoever used their time more efficiently would have the better chance of winning.

All the arrangements that needed to be made had already been made. The only thing he could still affect was his own strength.

In short, he could not waste any more time. He had to enter the dream immediately and strengthen himself!

With that thought, Xia Lun greeted Captain Geliide, then quickly returned to the sterncastle, lay down in his hammock, and went back to sleep.

A few minutes later, amid a hazy sensation of falling, he entered the lucid dream once again.

To the familiar looping violin melody, Xia Lun opened his eyes.

He had returned to that illusory, blurry, cramped space. This time, however, he did not see the shadowy fruits of many colors. He saw only two golden fruits nearby.

[Swordsmanship, available memories: 2/3]

[Comprehensive Navigation, available memories: 1/3]

[Hint: You must use up these two memories before selecting new memories.]

Without any hesitation, Xia Lun focused on the space before him. In an instant, the outlines of the two fruits warped, and the golden colors within them spread across his vision like spilled ink.

In his daze, the twisting outlines transformed into a tall black silhouette amid the gold. The figure stood straight and wore neat clothes, though it held a shortsword in its hand.

"Swordsmanship is like dancing, children," the silhouette said. "Remember that concept."

As it spoke, it raised the sword in its hand. As the blade rose, a group of short silhouettes emerged from nowhere like ink spreading through clear water.

The short silhouettes surrounded the upright figure layer upon layer, like students attending a lesson.

Xia Lun counted them. There were thirty-two short silhouettes in total.

"Now, begin sparring. I will explain your problems as they arise."

The sword-wielding silhouette suddenly swung its blade. In the next instant, one short silhouette holding a sword stood opposite Xia Lun.

The short silhouette raised its sword one-handed, placed the spine against its forehead, and gave a duelist's salute.

Then it extended its right foot half a step, planted itself firmly in a T-stance, slightly stretched out its arm, and probed forward with its point aimed directly at Xia Lun's eyes—it had assumed a standard long-point guard.

A duel? Such a professional stance? Why would the black first mate have this memory? Xia Lun hesitated.

"Stop daydreaming. Your mother sent you here to learn swordsmanship, not to waste time in fantasies." The tall sword-wielding silhouette rebuked him. "Focus. Swordsmanship is an extension of your spirit. Attack your opponent."

As the silhouette spoke, a wooden training sword appeared in Xia Lun's hand.

He casually spun the sword, felt out the weapon's balance, then returned a duelist's salute to his opponent.

"Dancing has one most crucial point: you must follow the rhythm." The tall silhouette watching the battle spoke lightly. "And the basic unit of rhythm is called a beat. Swordsmanship is the same."

In the next moment, Xia Lun suddenly lunged forward, his blade driving straight at his opponent's face!

The dull whistle of the wooden blade cutting through the air flashed past. The young swordsman opposite him clearly failed to react. At the very last moment before striking him, Xia Lun turned his wrist, changing the thrust into a strike, and smacked the other's forehead with the blade's spine!

Smack!

After striking him, Xia Lun immediately raised his sword and stepped back, preventing a counterattack.

"A perfect attack," the silhouette praised. "That is one beat. Within a beat, your footwork, body, and blade must move in coordination."

"If you fail to keep the beat while dancing, you step on someone's feet. If you fail to keep the beat in a sword duel, you get disemboweled. In a real fight, you would already be dead."

"Continue!"

With the tall silhouette's words, Xia Lun's vision blurred, and another opponent appeared before him.

This time, Xia Lun did not hesitate at all. After saluting, he immediately made a rising cut at the opponent's hand and landed a hit.

"Caution is the key to sword duels." The silhouette praised him again. "Remember, the purpose of swordsmanship is to subdue the opponent while preserving yourself—slitting their throat and cutting off their fingers can both accomplish that."

And so, through round after round of bouts, Xia Lun continuously honed his swordsmanship.

Unlike the last time he entered the dream, Xia Lun barely felt the dream correcting his movements and muscles this time.

With Reflexive Evasion and his own swordsmanship experience, Xia Lun was practically invincible in these bouts. The opponents, who were clearly teenage apprentices, could not touch him at all, while striking them was as easy as drinking water.

However, Xia Lun did not become blindly arrogant. As someone who had always been patient, he took the opportunity to slowly refine his posture and how he exerted force.

There was no need for sleep or food in the dream. Even injuries recovered in an instant. Thus, Xia Lun immersed himself wholeheartedly in swordsmanship training.

—As one sword duel followed another, the apprentice swordsmen grew larger, and their swordsmanship gradually improved as well.

Gradually, Xia Lun began to feel some pressure. Their attacks became sharper and sharper, while their control of distance grew increasingly adept.

At first, he could still maintain a difficult perfect record through Reflexive Evasion and his existing foundation in swordsmanship. But in the one hundred and twentieth round, an opponent narrowly won a bout through a surprise attack.

Afterward, the pressure of the duels increased further. These opponents even gradually began using tactics and strategies. Some would pretend to be losing in order to lure Xia Lun closer. Then, beginning from the four hundred and eightieth round, something even more outrageous happened.

"An ordinary swordsman attacks when attacking and blocks when blocking. But a true master of the sword can fuse the two into one." The tall silhouette instructed him. "At the proper time, from the proper angle, strike the proper place with the proper sword, and you can block while attacking!"

"The first move is the Glancing Strike."

Following the tall silhouette's instruction, the opponent in this round gave Xia Lun a slight salute, then suddenly attacked. It lunged and thrust, its blade stabbing directly toward Xia Lun's chest.

After hundreds of sword duels, Xia Lun had long since developed muscle memory. He withdrew half a step and flicked his wrist, chopping straight toward the opponent's face.

If nothing unexpected happened, he had already won this round. His opponent's attack was far too rigid and formulaic. Yet in the next instant, something absurd happened.

The usually clumsy opponent suddenly sidestepped and slid out of the center line, then abruptly reversed its grip on the hilt and lifted upward. Before Xia Lun could react, its guard had actively pressed against the strong of his blade. With a crisp clash of swords, the opponent's point directly burst his eyeball!

Glancing Strike!

Squelch!

Agonizing pain exploded from his eye socket, but Xia Lun quickly recovered thanks to the dream's restorative effects.

This was only the beginning.

After that round, every opponent Xia Lun encountered seemed to have achieved enlightenment. They began frequently using relatively advanced techniques such as Glancing Strike, Sliding Strike, and Binding Strike.

Xia Lun's pressure surged at once. He could no longer maintain his high win rate.

Though he began to fail and suffer injuries frequently, Xia Lun was not discouraged in the slightest. On the contrary, he became excited. After all, clashing with powerful opponents was the fastest path to improving his swordsmanship.

As the saying went, do not grow arrogant in victory or lose heart in defeat.

He had always been a focused person. Through battle after selfless battle, he rapidly absorbed swordsmanship experience.

Amid the endless hum of blades and the scorching sparks exploding when swords clashed, his observation grew sharper and his strikes more decisive. Even those advanced techniques gradually became muscle memory.

Starting from the six hundred and seventy-second round, quantitative change gave rise to qualitative change. Xia Lun finally managed to steadily suppress these opponents once again. His win rate gradually rose, and afterward, his techniques became increasingly polished. He felt that his understanding of swordsmanship had reached a new height.

By the eight hundred and ninetieth round, through a sound mindset, unrelenting effort, and persistent learning, Xia Lun had even regained the strength needed to maintain a perfect record. The once-powerful apprentices became weak in his eyes once more.

At that point, Xia Lun was quite certain that the black first mate had never reached his current level in the original experience. Through his own tireless efforts, he had already changed the course of the original dream!

This dream training has quite a bit of freedom, he thought.

But the sword duels continued, seemingly without end. Xia Lun neither grew arrogant nor impatient, constantly striving for greater refinement and reinforcing his foundation.

At the thousandth round, the tall silhouette finally spoke again. This time, however, its figure was no longer as tall and upright as before. It now showed a slight stoop.

"Remember, children. When you are at a disadvantage, running away and surrendering can also be wise choices. Swordsmanship is ultimately meant to protect yourself."

The tall silhouette waved its hand with considerable loneliness, and the black shadows of the thirty-two apprentice swordsmen returned to nothingness.

"Cough, cough, cough..." The silhouette hunched over as it walked to Xia Lun's side. "You are my finest student. I am proud of you. Now, I will introduce you to an even more outstanding teacher."

Xia Lun said nothing. He respectfully supported the hunched silhouette.

Though the other was merely a shadow in a dream, that did not prevent Xia Lun from respecting someone who had taught him knowledge.

The two slowly walked into the distance. During the walk, as if struck by sudden inspiration, Xia Lun suddenly had a faint, secret intuition.

"What should I call him?" Xia Lun asked.

The silhouette turned its head and said with a smile, "Ah, he is a nobleman, but he does not like others speaking his surname or even his name. Just call him the Commodore."

The Commodore?

Xia Lun froze.

The original owner of the Prayerbook of the Drowned mentioned by the doctor—the fugitive corrupt official, the Commodore!?

In an instant, his body suddenly stiffened. An indescribable chill of terror surged over his scalp like an electric current and seeped into his bones.

Had the first mate met the Commodore too?

Or was this a change caused by his altering the dream's course?

Could it really be such a coincidence?

Countless cold questions flooded his mind. Xia Lun wanted to press for answers, but the moment he opened his mouth, the dream suddenly shattered.

Bang!

Bang!

Xia Lun jolted awake.