Chapter 18: Future Turmoil

“So a knight’s potential results from circulating fighting spirit in the form of an array?”

“That’s what has been revealed by research from the royal academy and published in major periodicals, at least. When fighting spirit is circulated in the form of arrays, it can exhibit some magical characteristics—or even beyond that, into the realm of wizardry.”

“Can you give some examples?”

“Of course. My father, for instance—his potential is known as Will of Eternal Frost. While he fights with others, his fighting spirit will cause the temperature of his surroundings to drop until it reaches a certain threshold. At that point, his opponents’ fighting spirit will be sealed, rendering them incapable of using their fighting spirit entirely. The strongest and most mysterious part of knights’ potentials is the fact that it only affects others, not themselves. My father won’t feel the effect of the frost or the temperature. Only those around him will.”

“The path of knighthood doesn’t seem so bad in comparison. Magicians have a lot of variety and can do lots of damage, but knights are strong in combat, too. I’m looking forward to unlocking my potential—the problem is, I don’t even know how to manifest fighting spirit in the first place…”

Wang Yu sighed. He sat by the table, a notebook in his hands filled with his illegible handwriting.

Avia was currently giving him her usual nighttime lessons while Avia’s aunt and Garcia were away on business.

For a month, the academy’s library would be freely available to both of them; thereafter, while Avia could still access it for free, Wang Yu would have to complete a few tasks each month.

Wang Yu knew that he was essentially an outsider, so he didn’t mind this restriction. His most important objective at the moment was to strengthen himself as much as possible and successfully finish these tasks assigned to him.

Then, Wang Yu found himself with yet another problem. He was shockingly unlucky, though he didn’t seem to realize it himself.

The library had an extensive collection and covered a wide variety of fields that would grant Wang Yu strength. There were even a large number of tomes recording well-hidden or long-lost secrets—but much of the collection wasn’t written in the common tongue, which had developed only in the past five centuries.

After the military campaign involving the Abyssal Depths, the five major races—humans, sprites, dwarves, beastkin, and the winged—announced an alliance among them.

That alliance shaped the subsequent development of the continent. The scholars of all five races created the common tongue and provided free education and training for it.

This was a noble advancement that allowed the five races to work together in harmony and collaborate like never before.

The common tongue was made particularly simple and accessible, which was partly why Wang Yu had picked it up so easily. Not only that, the common tongue even laid the groundwork for arcane studies at its core.

However, only a portion of the library’s collection was written in the common tongue, largely dealing with the history of the kingdoms of the continent and briefly sketching out the rise of the prominent noble families of the era.

The knowledge encapsulated in these historical tomes was particularly important to Wang Yu, who would spend three hours a day reading through them daily after morning training.

Those involving paths to power, however, were frequently written in classical languages, such as that of the sprites. Wang Yu was stymied.

What could he do? In the end, he could only consult with Avia, a wellspring of knowledge. Wang Yu was a little embarrassed to be bothering her so much, but Avia didn’t seem to mind.

In truth, Avia had to admit that she was quite pleased to see Wang Yu studying so intensely and looking at her with admiration.

In addition to his daily training, Wang Yu had begun to spend an hour at night, around 6 to 7 PM, asking Avia questions about the various paths to power.

He would bring a few tomes about knighthood from the library for her to look at, then ask her questions about their contents.

His days had fallen into a simple routine: morning training, midday nap, afternoon reading, and evening questions. Wang Yu couldn’t help but feel as if he had returned to his high school days preparing for his college entrance examinations: his schedule was as regimented and almost as boring as back then.

He felt the same pressure to improve—yes, pressure. This world wasn’t at peace, and the wars between the various kingdoms had broken out about a decade ago. Bandits roamed the land, and many small villages were threatened by banditry.

Power struggles were occurring not just between kingdoms but also within them. Nobles fought for authority, power, and land. What happened within Avia’s household was an example in miniature of what was occurring throughout the kingdom.

Wang Yu was driven by a single overarching desire: to grow strong. He wanted to grow strong enough to be able to protect all that he cared for, to save them from destruction.

As the moonlight shone down on the three wooden buildings that formed Lilya’s forest academy, after Wang Yu finished asking Avia his questions, he retreated into his own room.

It was simple, almost ascetic. There was a bed and a table with a few books and a wild boar’s leg on it.

Perhaps intentionally or otherwise, Lilya and Garcia hadn’t left any food behind before they left.

Wang Yu had had to hunt and forage for food in the forest daily during the breaks in his training regimen.

Wang Yu was particularly skilled at wilderness survival, and his squire’s physique made it easy for him to hunt.

He sat before the table and drew on the void energy from his mindscape to trace a rune before him: a low-grade temperature rune.

A void rune shimmered. This was the first rune that Wang Yu had learned, and was able to distort the temperature of a patch of reality.

Wang Yu applied the rune to a certain portion of the wild boar’s leg. As he manipulated the void energy, the temperature of that portion of meat began to rise.

The wild boar’s bristles curled and began to char. Even after three minutes, however, only a small piece of meat, about a hand’s breadth wide, had become fully cooked.

“I’ve improved by roughly 30% compared to yesterday. I get what’s going on now. The more precisely I can pinpoint the distortion in reality I want, the less the energy I consume. “500 degrees” consumes far less energy than just saying “high temperature.”

After draining all his mental and void energy, Wang Yu lay in bed and fell asleep near-instantly.

An ordinary wizard would have gone mad from draining all his mental energy, but Wang Yu didn’t seem affected at all. A night’s sleep would replenish his reserves—and even increase his maximum capacity a little.

The oil lamp in Wang Yu’s room went out, as did that in Avia’s room. Silence reigned in the forest academy.

“What do you think of him?”

“He’s not bad. His willpower is frightening, and he’s clearly very dedicated to his studies. His talent as a wizard and magician is lacking, but his mental strength is astonishing. Have you met someone who can drain all his mental energy without falling unconscious?”

“Never. Such a person shouldn’t even exist. Why can’t I have that ability? But there’s one point you’re mistaken about.”

“What is it?”

“His talent as a wizard and magician is abysmal. A baboon’s might be stronger!”

“…”

“But his latent ability is very interesting. I rarely see latent abilities that obey principles so deeply tied to the foundation of sorcery.”

“That’s true. His latent ability is very interesting.”

“Eh? A grand knight like you known as the “Sword Saint”—do you really know enough about wizardry to discuss it? Are you feigning your knowledge?”

“Think about how many years I’ve been with you…”

“You’re right. I’m such a genius that it’s only natural for me to make those around me more intelligent as well.”

“I really was tricked by your looks back then, wasn’t I…”

“What? What did you say?!”

“Ahem! Let’s get back on track. How do you think they should be trained?”

“Avia needs to grow stronger as quickly as possible. It’s getting more and more chaotic inside the kingdom and even outside of it. Foreign powers are showing signs of making a move. Many races are displeased with how strong we humans are getting, and the cursebinding spire is only giving me seven more months out here. I need to help my niece build a solid foundation as quickly as possible. Her talent deserves to shine.”

“There has been more commotion lately, both from the abyss and the void. The Nightblades want me to return as quickly as possible now that they know that the fragment of terror has vanished. I blamed you for it, by the way.”

“Coincidentally, I blamed you for it too.”

“Haha, as expected. So, have you ever seen anyone who can devour fragments of terror directly?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You Nightblades are the ones who deal with this, aren’t you? I haven’t seen anything like that before myself.”

“Me neither. It sounds just as ridiculous as you’d imagine, but it’s what the emblem on his gauntlet tells me. He really is a natural Nightblade…”

“Is that so? I don’t know how you Nightblades operate, at any rate. You’re going to train him, then?”

“I do want to. Willpower is the most important attribute for us Nightblades, and he’d be an incredible recruit. Avia does need a knight, doesn’t she? They’d make a good pair.”

“You’re right. Let’s have him join Avia in that trial, then. Our organizations are forbidden from interfering with politics, so she’ll have to shoulder all those burdens on her own.

“May they grow quickly, then. Is he trustworthy?”

“Let’s keep an eye on him. We can’t just suspect everyone—that’d only lose us allies and friends.”

“True.”

“There’s one more point I have to correct you on.”

“What is it?”

“I doubt he’d remain with Avia.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not like I know him well, but he enjoys his freedom, has few desires, and has few attachments. He’s charting out his own path. Most importantly, he’s fearless. I expect he’d only serve as Avia’s knight for the long term if she’s willing to join him instead. His promise to serve her as a squire for a year is serious, I can tell, but I expect it means he’ll leave her once that year is up. He has his own path forward, and he’s going to adventure on his own thereafter.”

“Truly? Despite the difference in their talent?”

“Who knows?” Lilya’s eyes shone with light.

Garcia folded his arms as he stood beside Lilya. The two of them were glancing in the direction of the forest academy. Under the moonlight, only the barest outlines of their bodies could be seen, as if they had perfectly melded into their surroundings.

Avia and Wang Yu knew nothing of the discussion that Lilya and Garcia had that night. Perhaps Wang Yu had a few inklings of the trouble ahead, but his understanding of Aleisterre and its neighbors was far from complete.

A series of rhythmic strikes echoed within the forest as a longsword swung into tree bark again and again.

The sword wasn’t a particularly effective weapon against tree bark; even with repeated strong blows, only a few thin scars would be left behind.

Wang Yu began his daily physical training at around 7 AM. He would swing a sword at a tree at full strength 1000 times.

Avia awoke, rather sleepily, to the sound of the rhythmic strikes.

Not everyone had Wang Yu’s ridiculous mental fortitude and energy. Avia, who had drained all her mental energy at night from training, would instead awaken groggily.

Breakfast had already been prepared: mashed potatoes with slices of roast pork and a few persimmon-like fruits.

Wang Yu had prepared it in the morning. This was all he could find up in the mountains, and Avia wasn’t a particularly picky eater.

Wang Yu was an acceptable cook, and there was a surprisingly wide variety of spices up in the mountains. Avia dug into her breakfast with relish.

Time passed quickly—half a month in the blink of an eye. Avia got used to being woken up by Wang Yu’s sword strikes, and to the relative monotony of her new life.

Her routine left her at ease, because she was training hard and growing stronger alongside Wang Yu.

After Wang Yu finished his thousand sword strikes, he wiped away the sweat on his body, carefully ground and polished his sword with oil, then sheathed it again. He prepared for his next exercise.

Taking a moment to establish his bearings, he began to run. His figure darted through the trees as he dodged the rocks and pits on the ground and the low-hanging branches all around him.

At times, he would leap up high and use bark and branches to boost himself through the air.

He did a 10-km run through the forest daily, running as quickly as he could, dodging and avoiding any obstacles to the best of his ability.

It might as well have been an obstacle course. He intended to train his responsiveness, stamina, and explosive speed.

Wang Yu sprinted across the forest, deftly maneuvering around one stacle after the next.

His ripple ability was conveying all manner of things, physical and otherwise, throughout his body as he optimized his physical condition and took advantage of his growing stamina to maintain top speed as long as he could.

Sweat dripped down his body, heat dissipating from every pore. The expenditure of stamina resulted in aching muscles and lungs depleted of oxygen.

Stress and strain were hard to bear, but Wang Yu thought little of it. Training was that way, after all; he had to break through his limits time and time again to reach new heights.

A patch of light illuminated the clearing that could be seen outside the forest.

Wang Yu regulated his breathing once more, allowing fresh air to fill his lungs. He drew the last of his strength from his tired legs, speeding up by a few increments as he rushed out of the forest.

He slowed to a walk as he panted on the clearing outside the forest academy, allowing sweat to pitter-patter onto the ground.

Wang Yu waved his arm through the void and manifested an ethereal wristwatch: 34 minutes and 56 seconds. Three minutes faster than his last attempt.

The longer his exercise, the more precisely he could measure his improvement.

In a 50-m run, his simple bit of wizardry would hardly suffice to measure his improvement.

His stamina and physique were closing in on the maximum for a squire—some of his physical parameters had already reached the threshold, in fact. His arduous physical conditioning clearly came with significant results.

He had improved greatly in wizardry as well. Though his mastery of runes was lacking, wizardry didn’t strictly speaking need any runes. Wizards could distort reality with their wills alone.

Runes were like computer programs that systematized the distortion of reality and simplified it. All a wizard needed to do was channel mental energy into a rune in order to affect reality in a certain manner—but in principle, a wizard could do the same with just an exercise of will alone.

Wang Yi snapped his fingers and created a small spark of fire from his palm. It was small, but it did exist in reality.

It wasn’t particularly hot, perhaps only about as much so as a regular flame, and it could hardly compare to a magician’s fireball. It burned for half a minute or so before being snuffed out.

Wang Yu shook his head. His reserves of void energy were far too limited to maintain even such a small distortion for long.

This was the main distinction between runes and freeform distortion: the cost of the latter could be eight times or more higher.

Even so, Wang Yu could see a new path forward.

What if he were to limit, say, the duration of the effect to its minimum in order to strengthen its potency to its maximum? Wouldn’t that lead to a significant boost in his explosive strength? He couldn’t wait to test it out!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep