Hundreds of years ago, the Ferro Empire was still intact, and what is now the Gando Kingdom was just a duchy.
According to historical records, it was an era that produced many talented individuals.
Martial virtue thrived, giving rise to many Legendary figures.
Among them was a swordsman named Mayer, revered as a Sword Saint, who developed his own distinct style of swordsmanship.
Sword Saint Mayer first established eight distinct paths for slashing with a longsword, allowing cultivators to maintain a state of constant transition between offense and defense, regardless of the direction of their strike.
In other words, they could seamlessly switch between attack and defense at will.
This was an unprecedented innovation.
The eight paths seemed simple, but their combinations allowed for infinite variations, giving rise to numerous swordsmanship techniques.
The Gale Slash swordsmanship belongs to this school.
Grasp! (Single or two-handed, standard or reverse grip)
Stance! (Defensive)
Slash! (Offensive)
Only after fully integrating these principles of swordsmanship could one execute a Battle Skill!
Carl's forehead was beaded with sweat, steam rising from his body as his broadsword swirled around him like a whirlwind.
The fierce momentum of his sword could pulverize anything in close proximity.
"HUP!"
"HAH!"
Unlike in that mystical place where he possessed absolute rationality and perfect control, practicing swordsmanship in the real world was considerably more strenuous.
Fortunately, the experience remained; only the physical exertion felt unfamiliar. However, with thorough practice, he could still replicate his previous performance.
"SWOOSH!"
Battle Skill—Gale Slash!
Three afterimages materialized out of thin air, crisscrossing as they slashed.
"Phew..." Carl ceased his movements, his face alight with excitement.
First, I master the swordsmanship there, then, while the muscle memory is still fresh, I return to reality to practice.
The experience and memories are still intact. Even if I can't reach the same level of proficiency, the results will be greatly enhanced.
Under normal circumstances, even if he became a Knight Attendant, achieving this level of swordsmanship would take over a month, possibly even longer.
Now, in just a few days, he could almost stably execute the three afterimages, a feat not inferior to many Knight Attendants.
And that's not all!
Carl clenched his fingers into a loose fist, feeling the power coursing through his body, an impulse to punch through a wall welling up inside him.
Because I could perfectly control my body there, taking the secret medicine allowed for maximum absorption of its potency.
The effects of practicing the breathing techniques were also much better.
If I had taken the secret medicine here, I probably wouldn't have even stabilized my Knight Attendant cultivation level by now.
With the aid of that mysterious place, in just a few days, Carl had reached the level of a Knight Attendant in both physical fitness and swordsmanship skill.
Moreover, his strength was still in a phase of rapid increase.
If his Gale Slash could produce four afterimages, he would be considered quite strong even among Knight Attendants.
A joyous heart comes with happy events. So much so that even the end of his vacation and the impending return to work couldn't dampen Carl's cheerful demeanor.
The red and white uniform he wore was slightly large, but it couldn't hide his vibrant spirit.
Adjusting his clothes in front of the mirror, the Bergman family crest embroidered on the collar was particularly conspicuous.
Every noble family has its own unique crest.
The Bergman family crest was the common three-leaf clover, often seen by the roadside.
Some said the choice of the clover symbolized resilience and indomitable vitality.
In truth, however, it was simply because Carl's grandfather was uncultured and too lazy to think much about it, so he chose it casually.
If one were to delve deeper, a true noble's crest required elements such as plumage, a coronet, divisions on the shield, a motto on a banner, and so on...
I'm just a minor Baron without my own fiefdom, so there's no need to be too particular.
Shaking his head, Carl stepped out the door.
「Inspection Office.」
"Baron Carl!"
"Hello!"
"Baron, you've arrived."
"Mm." Carl nodded to the various greetings.
Those who worked at the Inspection Office were rarely commoners, though nobles were still a minority.
News of Carl inheriting his father's baronetcy had already spread, and others greeted him with noticeably more warmth.
"Carl!"
"Officer Dana." Carl stopped before the dashing woman.
"At the end of the month, Earl Rekton is hosting a coming-of-age ceremony for his son at his estate outside the city. He's inviting the city's nobility." Dana handed him an exquisite invitation. "My cousin Martha will be there too."
"Hmm?" Carl frowned. "Officer Dana, I truly have no intention of marrying right now."
"Whether you intend to or not, you can at least meet her. It won't take up much of your time," Dana said expressionlessly. "Or are you planning to refuse an invitation from an Earl?"
"This..." Carl sighed and accepted the invitation. "Very well."
"Don't look so aggrieved." Dana twirled her exquisitely crafted cane and gently tapped him with it. "With Martha's family wealth, she's more than a match for a landless Baron."
"Yes." Carl nodded. He didn't deny that point.
After bidding farewell to Dana, a portly figure hurried over and enveloped him in a tight hug.
"Carl, you're finally back! You have no idea how bored I was without you!"
"Carey!"
Carl smiled. "It's been a while, and you've gained more weight."
"Hehe..." Carey released him, stepped back, and scratched his head. "Not that much."
Carey's father was also a Baron. However, unlike Carl, Carey had several siblings, and his eldest brother was the designated heir to the title.
The title and family fortune had nothing to do with him, so despite being an inspector, he still lived a frugal life.
The two had joined the Inspection Office one after the other and were similarly unpopular, so they had naturally banded together for support.
"Come on!" Carey waved his hand. "Let's go have a drink."
An inspector's job was quite relaxed. They just had to sign in each day and could then leave under the pretext of conducting inspections.
Of course, they had to be present when it was their turn for duty every few days.
"Have you heard?" Carey asked in a low voice on the way. "It's been decided. The Duke of Saxony will take command of the army to attack Coburg, and they're going to conscript soldiers again."
Each Marquis and Earl had their own Duke they pledged allegiance to. With Gambis's death, the nobles under him were naturally unwilling to continue serving under a replacement.
A shortage of soldiers meant another round of conscription was inevitable.
"Mm," Carl had anticipated this. He asked, "Do you think we'll be conscripted?"
"Probably not." Carey shook his head. "Even if they conscript from Sigerno City, they won't take inspectors. Who would maintain public order if we left?"
"True." Carl felt somewhat relieved.
Although inspectors were often just for show, their complete absence wouldn't look good.
"But did Duke Gambis really die of illness? He was only in his fifties, in the prime of life for a Knight, let alone a Legendary Knight."
"I heard..." Carey lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously, "the Duke was burned to death!"
"Burned to death?" Carl's expression changed. "A Fire Thief?"
"Possibly." Carey nodded. Just as he was about to say more, they rounded a street corner and he collided with someone.
"OOF!"
Despite Carey's portly build, he actually had little strength and was sent stumbling backward by the light bump.
Luckily, Carl caught him, otherwise he would have ended up covered in mud.
As soon as he regained his footing, Carey couldn't help but shout in anger, "What's wrong with you? Don't you watch where you're going?!"
The other person was a pale-faced young man. Hearing Carey's words, his expression soured, and his narrow, triangular eyes squinted slightly.
In an instant, the hairs on Carl's entire body stood on end, and a sense of dread flooded his mind.
Danger!
He instinctively pulled Carey, who was beside him, back a step, his eyes filled with alarm and suspicion.
"Miles," a voice called. Not far away, the curtain of a carriage was lifted, and a strikingly beautiful woman beckoned towards them. "Hurry over."
"Hmph!" The young man's eyes flickered. He shot Carey a cold snort. "Consider yourself lucky!"
With that, he turned and walked towards the carriage.
The flesh on Carey's face tightened, his eyes simmering with anger, but he didn't try to stop the young man, merely watching as he boarded the carriage.