During the days Sylutia was preparing, the other trainees were also going about their lives.

Scorchstone City Training Ground.

The sky was covered by thin, overcast clouds. The usually bustling training ground was rather quiet and desolate today, with only a few castle guards standing sparsely around, leaning against one side of the field and chatting idly.

In the afternoon, Mick stepped through the training ground’s southern gate. He carried a broad steel sword slung over one shoulder, wore a well-fitted leather vest, and his long trousers-covered legs strode forward with a straight, firm gait.

Compared to the green, inexperienced youth who had just started his studies several months ago, his steps were now practiced and powerful. The excitement and confusion that once filled his eyes were gone, replaced by a faint clarity and steadiness.

Not long after, another black-haired youth of similar age walked in. He carried an equally steel broadsword at his waist, his posture also straight and tall.

After arriving at the training ground, the two exchanged a glance. Then they put down their weapons, swapped them for the training ground’s blunted practice blades, and stepped onto the sparring arena.

“We didn’t get the chance during the previous assessment.”

“But I think this time, we should have a proper match.” Solyn gripped his sword with both hands, slowly bringing it before him, the tip aimed at Mick across from him.

“If you’re not satisfied, of course I’ll oblige.” Mick’s eyes also revealed a hint of mutual respect.

“Haha, see, you want to fight too, don’t you.” Solyn shifted his feet slightly.

People whose strength differs greatly often find it hard to become friends. But if two people are close in strength, constantly sparring with wins and losses going both ways, they can easily become long-term rivals and find joy in these encounters.

Having a well-matched opponent is a kind of fortune. It can clearly reflect the changes in one’s own strength and provide valuable feedback.

After a brief exchange, the two swung their swords and charged at each other. Soon, the crisp sound of metal clashing rang out across the sparring grounds.

They exchanged blows back and forth, using familiar sword techniques, but their styles were distinct. They constantly switched things up, searching for openings in the other’s defense while trying to conceal their own overused moves.

The solid iron swords in their hands carved streaks through the air, leaving behind faint nicks on the blades themselves. Occasional, weak sparks flew when they met.

Hearing the commotion, several guards curiously turned their gaze towards the two.

“Oh, it’s those two lads again.”

“Didn’t they fight well enough in the assessment? Now they’re at it again.”

“Pretty fierce bout.”

“But honestly, both are quite skilled. They’re almost on par with some of our veterans.”

“They’re still young, right? I remember.”

“Probably just seventeen or eighteen.”

“Ah, to be young again…”

The guards watched the two spar, their conversation occasionally drifting to the past. Many of them had also grown up in Scorchstone City. Like Mick and Solyn in the arena now, they had once participated in the Hidden Grove’s selection assessment, but failed, becoming relatively ordinary members of the city.

“Of our batch back then, the most outstanding one… I wonder where he is now. Probably haven’t seen him for twenty years.”

“I still remember that day he walked out of the forest carrying the giant wolf’s head, covered in blood and reeking of slaughter. Not a single trainee from our batch wasn’t in awe.”

“Sometimes I wonder, if it had been me that day, if I had beheaded that giant wolf and successfully gone to the Hidden Grove, what would I be like now?”

“Probably… life would be a lot more exciting than it is now…”

The fight in the arena slowly drew to a close. As they operated their Breathing Technique, the physical strain on both their bodies gradually reached its limit, and their movements began to slow down.

They didn’t possess Sylutia’s special talent, which allowed for a temporary breakthrough to push the Breathing Technique to the fourth stage. Even reaching the third stage was rare among their peers.

Solyn leaned on his sword, panting heavily. Sweat soaked his forehead, some strands of hair sticking to his eyes. He pursed his lips and blew the hair away from his forehead, revealing eyes that were fixed intently on his opponent.

Once more, he stepped forward, raising the wide-edged iron sword high before bringing it down in a cleaving strike aimed at the foe before him.

The broad arcs of their swords collided head-on in mid-air. As if finally unable to bear the strain, both iron swords snapped simultaneously, falling onto the field and kicking up small clods of dirt along with the sweat.

Seeing the broken swords in their hands, the two had no choice but to stop. Then, they broke into relieved laughter.

“Seems this time is still a draw.”

They tossed the broken swords aside, slung an arm over each other’s shoulders, and walked towards the rest area.

They drew up cold well water and poured it over their heads, cooling their boiling blood and heated bodies. They shook their heads, then leaned against the guardrail again, letting the breeze dry their clothes and hair.

The overcast clouds on the horizon had thinned somewhat, revealing the orange sun. It dyed the surrounding clouds crimson, like waves, painting the sky red.

“I’m leaving, Mick.” Solyn spoke slowly, his eyes reflecting the evening glow at the horizon.

“Where are you planning to go?” Mick turned his head to ask.

“To the northern battlefield.” He shrugged.

“That place has everything I want. Plenty of opponents, unrestricted access to various resources, enemies to fight tooth and nail.”

“I remember your father was a soldier who left the battlefield, right?” Mick responded.

“That’s right. He said he was originally meant to die on the battlefield, that it’s the most valiant end for a man of Regas.” Solyn’s eyes closed slightly as he enjoyed the brief evening breeze.

“But for my sake, he chose to come back.”

“I used to think his words were just an excuse, that the old man was probably scared of dying after experiencing too much of the battlefield.”

“But now I understand.” He opened his eyes again, gazing into the distance.

“During the assessment, things went smoothly for me at first. But because of a small, careless mistake, I got snake venom in me and almost died in the forest.”

“At the time, I half-buried myself in the dirt, thinking it would help preserve body heat and reduce the chance of being spotted by predators. My consciousness was already starting to fade.”

“That process was truly agonizing.” Solyn shook his head.

“Luckily, Tia saved me. She gave me antidotal herbs and made me drink some water, so I slowly crawled back from the brink of death.”

“Back home, I lay in bed for many days before gradually recovering.”

“On the sickbed, the old man asked me if I still planned to go to the battlefield in the future.”

“I said I still had to go. He smiled and asked why.”

“Because only by going can I use victory to erase my previous failure, to fill that regret from last time.”

“He asked me again, what if the regrets can never all be filled?”

“If they can’t all be filled, then I’ll keep filling them until I’m sick of it.”

“I guess my way of thinking is different from most people’s. I really like that feeling of tension and intensity during a fight.”

“Every time it ends, I have to replay the whole process in my head, looking forward even more to the next time I encounter a similar situation, thinking of different ways to turn things around.”

“It’s truly exhilarating, Mick.” A faint smile appeared on his face.

“Now I get it.” Mick shook his head.

“You really are just like your dad, born with a warrior’s blood flowing in your veins.”

“But I’m different. Honestly, I’m not obsessed with the fight itself. But I enjoy the results that come after a fight. Whether it’s protecting my own way of life or helping others achieve their wishes and getting paid for it, there’s a faint sense of satisfaction.”

After Big Brother Jello left, Mick spent this time constantly reflecting on his past. He also went home to visit his mother once. Finally, he slowly came to understand his own true heart.

“Hahaha, that’s great too, Mick.” Solyn laughed heartily.

“It will. That kind of resolve and aspiration of yours will surely make you a powerful knight one day. You’ll use sturdy armor and steel to protect yourself and guard everything important to you.”

“Let’s call it a day here. Next time we meet, I hope we’ve both achieved what we wished for, so we can have another good fight.”

“At that time, I’ll give you a good thrashing to see if you’ve given up on your old ideals.”

“Goodbye.” Solyn picked up his shirt from the side and turned to leave.

His back was to Mick as he raised one hand high, giving a slight wave—a farewell between men.

“Goodbye, Solyn.” Mick waved back at him, took one last look at the setting sun, and then turned to leave as well.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep