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墨書 Inktalez
The estate was divided into three areas: the living quarters for the Mestlin Family's direct line and branch members near the gold mine, the servants' stables and storage area, and the training and private school area.
As the name suggested, the training area was dedicated to combat physical training, serving as a preparation ground for the family's private soldiers.
Here, one could see several young boys and girls in reserve, each sweating profusely as they engaged in running, weight training, sword practice, and other exercises.
Upon seeing the two individuals walk through the training grounds' entrance, their faces instantly reflected deep respect, prompting them to throw themselves even more vigorously into their training.
"Young Master, starting your martial arts training a bit late isn't a problem. If you follow my methods, you will surely achieve something," Marcus said as he walked, clearly in high spirits.
"Okay, Uncle Marcus," Xiar nodded with a smile.
His desire to learn martial arts from him was not a fleeting whim but rather a decision made after careful consideration the night before.
This world was still in the cold weapon era; seemingly due to a lack of materials like saltpeter, firearms had not developed, and personal strength and armies dominated.
To bolster his self-defense capabilities, he wanted to learn some basic martial arts first, aiming to possess physical qualities beyond those of ordinary people.
Before him stood Marcus, the strongest warrior in the territory, who had once charged alone into nearly a hundred bandits and managed to massacre more than half of them!
Upon learning of this achievement, images of martial arts masters from his past life flooded Xiar's mind. Marcus's strength could be considered superhuman; compared to him, those champions and black belts from his previous life seemed like infants!
With an inhumanly strong physique, refined combat skills, and extensive battle experience that allowed him to easily massacre ordinary soldiers, he had established a formidable reputation.
However, this man known as the Iron-Blooded Butcher was currently smiling as he explained basic training techniques to Xiar, appearing friendly and gentle like a neighborly uncle—provided one could overlook his towering stature of nearly two meters.
It was no exaggeration; standing there, he resembled a black bear, his size equivalent to that of two Xiar!
The training ground was about the size of half a football field, filled with stone pillars, weapon racks, and various training equipment.
Marcus walked over to the weapon rack and picked up a wooden sword, tossing it casually to him.
Xiar hurriedly reached out to catch it, unexpectedly finding that the wooden sword was quite heavy, almost indistinguishable in weight from an equivalent steel sword.
The wooden sword was a standard weapon, consistent with those used by the Family Guard Squad, serving as the training weapon for every boy selected as a reserve team member.
Marcus also took out a wooden sword, gripping it with both hands. He stepped forward with his right leg and swung it straight down.
Whoosh!
Xiar immediately heard a sharp whistling sound. With a casual swing, Marcus created a gust of wind that carried a chilling intent, making Xiar feel as if he were being watched by a terrifying monster, sending shivers down his spine.
"Regardless of the training method, it's all about fully mobilizing the power within your body, allowing you to control that power at will and unleash an attack strength that is double or even many times greater," Marcus explained while demonstrating various basic sword techniques.
Each movement—sweeping, striking, stabbing, thrusting, collapsing, stirring, pressing—seemed to generate a rush of wind. Many of the young trainees couldn't help but stop and watch him in awe as he performed.
Xiar strained to keep his eyes wide open as he observed Marcus's demonstration. Such terrifying strength was unimaginable in his previous life; many of Marcus's movements even left behind afterimages!
With envy on his face, he asked, "Uncle Marcus, is there a specific ranking system for martial arts practice?"
"Ranking system? Oh, you mean combat strength? Yes, there is," Marcus paused for a moment, seemingly enjoying the shock reflected in Xiar's eyes. "However, there isn't anything too specific; it's simply categorized based on how many ordinary soldiers one can contend with."
"To be able to fight against one ordinary soldier is Soldier Rank; against ten is Soldier Level; against a hundred is School Level; and against a thousand is General Rank."
“Uncle Marcus, what level are you?” Xiar asked with increasing seriousness.
The martial prowess in this world was terrifyingly high, with foes reminiscent of the legendary hundred-man and thousand-man enemies from martial arts tales of the past.
This meant that a General Rank could stand alone against a thousand troops, much like Zhao Yun at Changban Slope!
“As for me, I’m just at School Level,” Marcus replied casually.
His demeanor was relaxed, yet his eyes sparkled with pride as he lightly snapped the wooden sword in his hands.
With a sharp crack, the sword broke effortlessly, and Marcus tossed the broken piece aside, shaking his head with a smile. “It’s too light and brittle. When you achieve something, I’ll get you a real treasure.”
Xiar's lips twitched; the wooden sword weighed over five pounds, yet in Marcus's hands, it was no different from a pair of chopsticks.
He had secretly tried to lift it himself but found he couldn’t budge it even with all his strength.
Marcus was clearly showing off his strength. After witnessing Xiar's earlier attempts, a smile appeared in his eyes as he began to guide him through basic training step by step.
The following process became extremely tedious and painful. Xiar, a young nobleman with a frail physique, felt fatigued after just a few swings. Within minutes, his entire body began to ache, and his arms felt as heavy as lead.
“Young Master, your physique is too weak. You need to practice extensively to achieve any results,” Marcus said, looking at the panting boy and gently shaking his head, feeling quite troubled.
He had taught others before but had never encountered someone so lacking; after swinging the wooden sword only twenty or thirty times, Xiar was exhausted.
It was worth noting that the other boys around them were tasked with training hundreds or even thousands of times!
Xiar leaned heavily on his knees, panting, seemingly unfazed by the disappointment in the other person's tone. Instead, he focused intently on the air before him.
In his line of sight, a line of text appeared.
"Basic Swordsmanship: Not Yet Learned."
"Young Master, you should practice Basic Swordsmanship next," Marcus said with a gentle sigh.
Xiar did not respond but concentrated his thoughts on the "+" at the end of the text.
Three seconds later, the plus sign vanished, and the line of text changed. A stream of information flowed into his mind, granting his body a certain instinctive memory.
He lifted his head and smiled. "Uncle Marcus, I think I might have learned it."
"Don't rush; you now—what?" The other person furrowed his brow, scrutinizing him with suspicion, as if doubting whether he was lying.
Xiar offered no explanation. Instead, he picked up the wooden sword and began to demonstrate. Each movement was so precise that it left Marcus momentarily stunned.
However, the good times were short-lived. As Xiar swung the sword, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, causing the wooden sword to drop to the ground—he had dislocated it.
"That's what you get for showing off!" Marcus's initial astonishment faded into an exasperated smile as he hurried over to Xiar's side and grasped his arm gently.
With a slight motion—
Crack!
Xiar felt an intense pain shoot through his arm, but in the next moment, it returned to normal. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling increasingly helpless.
Learning the skill through the Evolution Modulator was instantaneous, but his frail body simply couldn't withstand such violent actions.
However, Bruce's presence made it impossible for him to see the limits of his opponent's strength, looming like a towering mountain that offered no hope of escaping from his grasp.
After all, this world belonged to Spirit Masters, and no matter how strong a warrior was, they could never contend with totems. If he wanted to protect himself and his family, he had no choice but to cooperate with Bruce, akin to seeking skin from a tiger. Thus, he was willing to expend precious Evolution Points to enhance his own strength!
Nevertheless, his immediate priority was to improve his physical condition as much as possible, which was also a prerequisite for leveling up Totem Drawing.
Before he could speak, Bruce sighed and said, "Forget it. I'll take you to find that guy. Let's get some medicinal food first; you need a few sessions of that. Otherwise, your constitution is just too weak."
Xiar awkwardly smiled and then followed Bruce as they left the estate and arrived at a pharmacy in the West of the Town.
"Old Fella, hurry up and come out to serve customers!" Marcus shouted boisterously, causing Xiar to twitch at the corner of his mouth; what did serving customers even mean?
Moments later, a robust voice came from inside, "Marcus, what are you doing here again?"
"And you’re the Old Fella! I'm still young and strong!" The man walked out from inside with an ungracious tone that held no politeness.
Xiar was quite surprised; he hadn't expected there would be someone in Shining Gold Town who wouldn't give Marcus face. Did they not fear his formidable strength?
With a smile, Marcus introduced him, "Young Master, don't be fooled by how this Old Fella looks; he's definitely one of the top pharmacists in Farn County. Just call him Uncle Niu."
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