Ch. 16 - Sun God Swordcraft

Robb wanted to press further, but seeing the dark look on Arnor's face, he chose to shelve his questions for now.

He knew all too well that in this eerie, terrifying world, knowing too much wasn't always a good thing.

After parting ways with Arnor and returning to his room, Robb still couldn't find peace. Those grotesque images kept surfacing in his mind, impossible to shake, leaving him waves of nausea.

"Where did Locke even get that banned substance..."

He muttered to himself, then opened his system panel to check his status.

[Robb Stark]

[Age. 15]

[Current Combat Class. Knight Squire (One-Star)]

[Current Lifestyle Class. Potion Apprentice (One-Star)]

[Attributes. Constitution 1.4 | Spirit 1.6 | Mana 0.4]

[Skills. Basic Potioneering (Proficient), Basic Meditation (Beginner), Slime Splash (Beginner), Potion Crafting (Beginner), Herb Identification (Beginner), Basic Swordcraft (Beginner), Body Tempering Breath (Beginner)]

[Special Talents. Dual Soul, Solar Blessing (Incomplete)]

[Power Tier. Knight Squire]

"At least I have my system. I don't need to resort to those crooked shortcuts."

Robb looked at the steadily climbing numbers and felt a measure of comfort.

Besides, at his current rate of meditation improvement, there was a real chance of advancing within the month. Once that happened, many problems would resolve themselves.

Just then, another muffled thud came from Dagon's room next door, breaking Robb's train of thought.

"Damn sonic magic! Why did it fail again..." Furious cursing filtered through the wall.

Robb shook his head with a wry smile. His neighbor's persistence was genuinely admirable.

Failing every single day, yet never once considering a shortcut. But at this rate, he probably wouldn't pass the apprentice evaluation either.

Not that Robb had the luxury of worrying about others right now...

Night fell, and the Black Mist Forest sank into silence.

But in certain hidden corners, illicit dealings continued under cover of darkness.

"Did you hear? Another servant died over at Tower Three."

"Ugh... Marcus has been researching some kind of cursed sorcery lately. Absolutely vicious methods..."

"Still, being his servant at least keeps you alive. Sure, every night is miserable, but it beats the poor sods who end up as test subjects or monster droppings..."

Scattered chatter drifted from the far end of the corridor, where several lavishly dressed, elaborately made-up female servants had gathered.

Their faces carried a hint of arrogance, after all, in this world of survival of the fittest, attaching yourself to the powerful was its own kind of capital.

Robb stood behind his door. His five senses, sharpened by body tempering, let him hear every whisper clearly through the wood.

Most of it was idle gossip, but occasionally something useful surfaced.

"That Locke was a complete fool, going to black market dealers for banned potions."

"Not our problem though. Those types only target Initiates who are almost out of time. They're dead men walking anyway, so might as well squeeze one last profit out of them..."

"Black market dealers..." He filed the term away silently. Having one more channel of information was never a bad thing.

The footsteps faded. The corridor fell silent again.

And in a place Robb couldn't see, those servants, who had been deliberately speaking loudly, quickly gathered before a gray-robed figure after leaving the dormitory area, their demeanour suddenly deferential.

...

The next morning, Robb lost his drowsiness well before dawn. Realizing he had time to spare, he hauled himself out of bed.

Since there was still a long while before his shift at the herb shop in the apprentice market, he sat down at his desk and opened the Sun God Swordcraft notes Arnor had given him.

This was a specialized sword art designed to complement the Solar Breath, emphasizing breath-guided body movement to make every sword stroke as fierce as the blazing sun.

The faction was reasonably generous with its Initiates, it had to be said. The single rooms in the dormitory area were bare of furniture, but spacious enough that he could swing a sword freely inside.

"Start with the most basic opening stance." Robb picked up a wooden sword and stood at the center of the room.

[Basic Swordcraft training initiated]

[Please use the Solar Breath to guide your movements]

After two body-tempering sessions, he had developed a deep understanding of the Solar Breath's rhythm.

This cadence could guide not only spirit power, but also imbue every physical movement with force.

Taking a deep breath, he began drilling the most fundamental slash according to the notes.

It felt clumsy at first, but as his breathing fell into sync, the movements grew increasingly fluid.

Every sword swing aligned with his breathing rhythm, inhaling to build momentum, holding to focus, exhaling to strike.

The wooden sword traced arcs through the air, stirring faint wisps of wind.

[Basic Swordcraft EXP +1]

[Basic Swordcraft EXP +1]

[Basic Swordcraft EXP +1]

...

"Progress really is fast during the beginner stage."

Robb eyed the data on his panel with a small smile.

The seamless compatibility between this sword art and the Solar Breath made practice feel effortless, and the [Knight Squire] class's bonus to swordsmanship skill progression compounded the effect.

Every correctly rhythmed swing deepened his understanding of the art.

The sensation was like muscles memorizing a special cadence, filling each motion with power.

"This gives me a new idea..." Robb mused. "'Breath-guided swordsmanship', feels like it could be applied in actual combat."

He continued practicing the basic slash. The wooden sword's trajectory gradually became smooth and rounded.

Under proper breathing guidance, even the simplest action could contain a special rhythm.

Just as he was getting into the groove, a rapid series of knocks interrupted his training.

"It's me." Arnor's low voice came through.

Robb set the practice sword down, gave himself a quick wipe with a towel, and went to open the door.

He found the Thirteenth Prince looking deeply anxious.

"There's something I need to tell you." Arnor stepped inside and shut the door behind him, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I just found out that the reason Locke took such a desperate gamble was because he'd received certain information."

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