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墨書 Inktalez
In the evening, Step Black returned to the other courtyard with Locke, a gloomy expression on his face.
His mood was quite poor. After the banquet ended, Wendy's mother approached him alone to discuss something.
Step did not hesitate and agreed readily, but the content of their conversation left him feeling disheartened.
"Brent, you are quite impressive—young and accomplished, with exceptional abilities. I am glad that Wendy has a friend like you. However, there are some things I must say... I hope you will not entangle yourself with Wendy any further; I do not think highly of you."
These were the exact words of the Third Lady, cold and piercing, getting straight to the point.
Upon hearing this, Step felt furious, as if his dignity had been trampled upon. He immediately lost his composure and began to question her. He believed that she looked down on him, thinking he was unworthy of Wendy; otherwise, why would she try to break them apart?
During their subsequent conversation, the Third Lady earnestly explained her reasons to Step.
Things were not as he imagined; she did not look down on him at all but was acting out of necessity, having her own difficulties.
The Third Lady made it clear to Step that Warren Earl was merely using him. The more brilliant he shone now, the closer he would be to Warren Earl's schemes against him.
She did not want her daughter to be caught in the middle; after all, one side was her family and the other was a man she cared for. Eventually, there would be a confrontation between them. At that time, how would Wendy navigate her position?
Would she stand with Step and hurt her father? Or would she side with her father and hurt Step?
In the end, it would be Wendy who suffered the most. How old was she now? Could she bear such pain?
"Do you really want to watch Wendy jump into a fire?" This was the last thing the Third Lady said before she silently left.
Step watched her retreating figure—the figure of a mother—and felt moved by her words. Perhaps he also did not want to see Wendy caught in such a difficult situation.
He softened.
"Locke, do you have a girl you like?" Bu suddenly turned around and looked at Locke, who had been quietly following behind.
"Ah...?" Locke stood there dumbfounded, completely confused.
Bu slapped his own forehead, thinking, "How could someone like Locke possibly have a girl he likes? I must have asked the wrong person."
Shaking his head with a bitter smile, Bu turned back to continue walking toward the other courtyard. His voice drifted back to Locke's ears.
"It's fine, I don't think you have a girl you like. Sigh, you just don't understand."
Locke stood still, not immediately following Bu's footsteps. A complex expression crossed his face as if he were recalling something.
After a long while, as Bu's figure had already walked far away, Locke suddenly came to his senses. He chuckled lightly a few times, looking at Bu's back and murmuring, "A girl I like... Master, I once liked someone too. I understand."
There seemed to be a hint of helplessness and weariness in Locke's tone. After saying this, he resumed walking and chased after the already distant Bu.
In the Aldra Family's estate's courtyard, Bu was lying on the bed flipping through the low-level combat skills that Warren Earl had sent over, along with a sword.
The sword was an ordinary Fine Iron Longsword. Warren Earl wouldn't send a valuable skill worth hundreds of gold coins along with a precious sword for Bu.
After feeling down for a while following his conversation with the Third Lady, Bu was gradually regaining his composure.
Ultimately, this incident happened because his strength was not strong enough.
If he possessed enough strength to rival the entire Aldra Family, would Warren Earl still have the courage to confront him?
Sighing, Bu cast aside his unrealistic thoughts and lowered his gaze to the Skill Book in his hands.
This Combat Skills book contained Low-Level sword techniques. As Bu stroked the surface of the Skill Book, his expression remained calm, lacking the excitement he had felt when he first acquired a skill.
The more one gains, the more one must give. Although this Low-Level Combat Skills book was now in his possession, mastering it was not so simple.
With a clap of his hand, the Skill Book transformed into a faint mist, enveloping Bu's entire body in a mysterious wave of Mental Power.
This faint mist contained the insights and Experience stored within the Skill Book. The extent to which one could master a skill depended entirely on one's Mental Power and comprehension Qualification.
No matter how strong one's Mental Power is, a fool without comprehension cannot master a skill.
Conversely, no matter how high one's comprehension is, a person devoid of any Mental Power cannot master a skill either. At least, they cannot grasp skills through merely tapping the Skill Book; they would have to engage in tedious study and training, understanding each move on their own before they could hope to master the skill.
Fortunately, Bu was not an oddity lacking in either aspect; his Mental Power was strong, and his comprehension was sufficient. He could often absorb and master much from the insights and Experience inscribed within a Skill Book.
Half an hour later, the mist surrounding Bu gradually dissipated. Bu Shuang had his eyes closed, seemingly immersed in deep contemplation, entering a peculiar state that resembled sleep. Locke stood nearby as his Guardian, preventing anyone from disturbing him.
After some time passed, Bu finally opened his eyes. His narrow pupils sparkled like stars in the universe. He stood up, stretched his limbs, and focused on examining the new skill he had learned.
"Ethereal Thirteen Swords (Active) Level: Basic Level. Skill Effect: Amplifies personal attack power by eighty percent; consumes Energy Value points per minute when activated. Mastery: Proficient."
"The Basic Level Combat Skills are indeed powerful; they can amplify my attack power by eighty percent, and this is only at the fourth level of mastery. My Furious Cloud Palm at the fifth level only amplifies my attack power by thirty percent," Bu said with delight, murmuring to himself.
Actually, Bu was unaware that the Ethereal Thirteen Swords was not as simple as it appeared on the surface; its intricacies involved a significant secret.
Even the fourth level of Ethereal Thirteen Swords completely overshadowed the fifth level of Furious Cloud Palm in terms of power. The only drawback was that it required more energy to execute. With Bu's Energy Value at zero, he could only sustain its use for ten minutes, and this duration referred specifically to the time he could maintain the First Sword.
Ethereal Thirteen Swords became progressively stronger with each subsequent sword strike, with energy consumption increasing dramatically for each move.
According to Bu's estimation, even with a full Energy Value, he could probably only manage to execute up to the Seventh Sword. It seemed that Ethereal Thirteen Swords could only be used as a trump card; for regular battles, using Furious Cloud Palm would suffice.
Now he understood why Reynold only resorted to using his long sword in the latter half of the competition; it was likely that this Fellow had also learned a Basic Level combat skill for swords.
The higher the level of Combat Skills, the more energy was required to execute them. Reynold's initial reluctance to use his long sword might have been due to this consideration.
The night was cool as water, with sparse stars shining in the moonlight.
In the courtyard of the separate residence, Bu stood holding his sword, his mind swirling with various descriptions of Ethereal Thirteen Swords.
Ethereal Thirteen Swords unleashed a ghostly wind when drawn, akin to cries of spirits. The swordsman must possess unwavering determination; once the sword is drawn, it must advance relentlessly—each strike faster and fiercer than the last—without a hint of hesitation. Any wavering in heart would destabilize the sword's momentum, leading to backlash from one's own moves, resulting in light injuries or severe damage such as shattered meridians.
"Whoosh..." Bu made a sweeping motion with his Fine Iron Longsword, producing a chilling wind that howled like wailing spirits.
Cold Light flashed as sword shadows danced about, resembling pear blossoms falling to the ground in a flurry of white, akin to scattered flowers illuminating the sky with myriad rays.
Bu moved with his sword; as his heart guided his blade, his figure appeared like a small boat on the sea, flickering in and out of sight within the courtyard. His speed reached its peak as he wielded his sword, creating an unending sound of whistling blades and intermittent flashes of Cold Light.
The entire courtyard was filled with rising dust and wind, echoing with continuous wails reminiscent of a Yokai Night Parade. The shimmering points of Sword Aura resembled ghostly eyes peering out, cold and menacing.
As he moved his feet, his wrist trembled, and the sword danced like a dragon. Because of the incredible speed, all that could be seen was a flash of lightning.
Swish, swish, swish, swish—the piercing Sword Aura formed a continuous stream, each strike faster than the last, creating a burst of blazing silver light. The sound of the sword echoed hauntingly, and the fierce sword energy swept through the surroundings, carving long marks into the ground.
Locke stood at one side of the courtyard wall, watching the graceful figure moving swiftly within. He felt a surge of emotions; his master was truly exquisite. This was merely a newly learned sword technique, yet in his hands, it appeared as if he had mastered it for ages—effortless and skillful.
With a sharp "clang," the sword let out a cry.
He sheathed his sword with a fluid motion, the entire action flowing like water, effortlessly artistic.
The surrounding Cold Light faded away, leaves fluttered to the ground, and everything returned to tranquility. He stood still, his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his posture upright in black attire, exuding an air of solitary pride and depth.
He reflected on the insights gained from executing the Ethereal Thirteen Swords earlier. He noted where his movements flowed smoothly and where they felt slightly awkward. Regardless of the skill, one must first become familiar with it before being able to wield it with ease during execution.
Seeing that he seemed lost in thought, Locke did not approach to disturb him and quietly waited in place.
Under the moonlight, both master and servant stood still; time seemed to freeze at that moment. The surroundings were silent, devoid of any sound.
After a long while.
A gentle breeze rose silently, stirring the tips of his hair and awakening him from his reverie with a unique chill of the night. He came back to himself, gazing at the slowly drifting leaves before him and inhaling the fragrant scents of various plants released in the night.
In this moment, his heart felt so tranquil and distant.
Just then, at this moment when Bu Xin's spirit was most relaxed and peaceful, a sudden sharp sound pierced through the silence.
Bu Xin felt a tightness in his chest, and before he could react, he managed to take a step back just in time. With a sudden "thud," a sharp pain shot through him, and warm liquid began to flow from his injury.
With all his strength, he executed the Dragon Step, enduring the intense pain in his body as he distanced himself from the spot.
Like a fleeting shadow, his figure swayed as he turned several corners, making it impossible for anyone to grasp his direction. He darted into a corner against the wall, pressing his body close to it before finally stopping.
In that corner, no matter how the enemy attacked, as long as they did not possess the ability to pass through walls or burrow underground, they could only strike from the front. This way, Bu would not be too passive.
At the moment he was attacked, Bu realized he had been targeted by a thief. The vast Aldra Manor was heavily guarded; an ordinary person could not infiltrate it at all.
This intruder not only went unnoticed by the Aldra Family's guards but even by Bu himself. If it weren't for the attack, he might not have even sensed the person passing by him.
This was unimaginable; the intruder's strength was too formidable. Even a Low-Level thief like Ivan would be detected under Bu's Mental Power perception before making a move.
However, this enemy had only been sensed by Bu at the very moment of their attack.
A formidable foe, an unprecedentedly strong adversary.
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