Sunlight streamed through the window into the room. Robb had just finished his morning meditation and was about to begin practicing the Solar Swordcraft.
Ever since he killed Darude, his understanding of this sword style had advanced by leaps and bounds.
Especially during that life-or-death fight, he had come to deeply appreciate the subtle harmony between swordplay and breathing techniques.
"Let's begin."
Robb adjusted his breathing, raising the wooden sword slowly.
Guided by the Solar Breath, each of his movements carried a distinct rhythm.
First breath sequence: inhale for seven counts.
The wooden sword swept upward in a graceful arc, the tip pointing to the sky like a knight saluting the sun.
This was the Dawn Ring technique in the Solar Blade style, designed to deflect attacks from any angle with fluid circular motion.
Second breath: hold for three counts.
The sword was held horizontally in front of his chest, a classic defensive posture from ancient traditions, able to redirect enemy force in all directions.
A faint glow began to build along the blade—an energy signature unique to the Solar Breath.
Third breath: exhale for five counts.
The sword stance shifted suddenly, transitioning from horizontal guard to a lightning-fast thrust, the tip striking out like a venomous snake.
This move, Daybreak Cross, was a rare technique combining offense and defense.
The sword cut a perfect X in the air—capable of blocking an incoming strike while delivering a deadly counter.
With the full set of techniques completed, the sword drew a clean arc through the air, perfectly synchronized with his breath.
Unlike the awkwardness of earlier days, every movement now flowed with effortless precision.
[Current Progress: Basic Swordcraft (Beginner 49/50)]
"Just a little more…"
Robb took a deep breath and launched into the final sequence.
This was the most complex set in the Solar Swordcraft, requiring rapid directional changes in a short span.
But this time, it felt as if his body moved on its own.
Every pivot landed perfectly, each motion connected seamlessly to the next.
The entire sequence was executed like a flowing stream. Robb could clearly feel something shift within him.
[Basic Swordcraft Breakthrough!]
[Basic Swordcraft (Beginner 50/50) → Basic Swordcraft (Adept 1/100)]
[New Trait Unlocked: Sharpened (Increases penetration power of sword techniques)]
He raised the wooden sword and gave it a light swing.
The arc it drew seemed to carry an invisible ripple—the air itself trembled.
If he faced Darude now, Robb knew one strike would be enough to end the fight.
"So this is the difference between 'beginner' and 'adept'..."
He muttered to himself. The system-defined tiers—beginner, adept, and so on—were abstract, but what he felt now? That was real.
Even at this so-called "Adept" level, he felt his swordsmanship rivaled that of championship fencers from the kingdom.
Putting away the sword, he moved on to his body training for the day.
With continued practice in the Solar Breath, his control over the physical conditioning process improved.
[Breath Conditioning EXP +1]
[Current Progress: Breath Conditioning (Beginner 43/100)]
Progress was slow, but Robb wasn't in a rush.
Body tempering wasn't like other skills—it required special oils and ample recovery time afterward.
And foundational training like this demanded patience. Rushing it would only lead to problems.
After completing the session, drenched in sweat and oil, Robb decided to head to the public bathhouse.
As he packed his things to leave, he remembered Andre's warning.
In this world, even something as mundane as bathing couldn't be taken lightly. Bathing and using the toilet were moments of peak vulnerability.
"Let's hope today's quiet."
He murmured as he stepped into the corridor.
The public bathhouse was shrouded in steam. Robb chose a corner spot and began washing off the oil and sweat.
The warm water eased his tightened muscles.
All the body training had made him more defined—his muscles and tendons now had sharp, clean lines.
A few apprentice candidates entered and, upon seeing Robb, instinctively avoided him, choosing distant spots.
After the Darude incident—and with Andre having publicly stood up for him—Robb had become someone to fear and respect. Taking down a mutated creature with just a wooden sword was no minor feat.
Finished washing, Robb dressed and grabbed his toiletries, ready to return.
The corridor was silent, lit only by dimly flickering crystal lamps.
As he neared his room, a figure stepped out from around the corner.
"Lord Robb."
It was a well-dressed young woman. Robb recognized her—one of Marcus' personal servants.
Compared to the others, she wore much finer clothes and a gem-studded necklace.
"I am Danielleelle, Lord Marcus' personal maid," she said with a graceful bow, her voice sweet and soft.
"I heard you work at Madam Elena's apothecary?"
Robb stared at her coldly. "What do you want?"
"Well…" Danielle smiled politely.
"My master has always had an interest in alchemy. I hear you've made impressive progress recently. I was wondering if—"
"No." Robb cut her off.
He knew their tactics too well—start with small talk to dig for information, then look for leverage.
Not to mention, he had a confidentiality agreement with Madam Elena. This kind of thinly veiled probing was laughable.
"But—" Danielleelle looked a little flustered.
"If it's a matter of price, we can negotiate. My master said he's willing to pay handsomely if you're willing to share—"
"Not interested. Move."
Robb had no desire to continue this meaningless conversation and tried to walk past her.
At that moment, Danielleelle's eyes glinted coldly as she brushed past him, her lips curling into a smug smile.
Her fingers traced a hidden gesture under her sleeve as she silently muttered a spell.
It was Sleightful Snatch, a zero-circle spell. It had no combat utility but was nearly undetectable.
A barely visible tendril of shadowy energy slipped from her fingers, creeping silently toward Robb.
At this range, even experienced apprentices wouldn't easily sense it—especially when off guard.
Her eyes locked on Robb's pouch, bulging with magic crystal fragments and precious potions he had crafted.
The tendril was just about to touch the pouch—one more moment and it would teleport the whole thing into her hand.
Then she'd simply accuse him of attempting to steal from her. A frame-up, neat and easy.
But at the last instant, Robb's mental awareness flared—he sensed something off.
It was the faintest disturbance, like something plucking at the strings of his mind, making him irritable and uneasy.
Sensing danger, he stopped in his tracks.
Danielle's heart skipped—she knew she'd been caught.
But it was already too late.
Robb's wooden sword flashed with terrifying speed—the full might of Adept-level Solar Swordcraft now unleashed.
The sword's arc gleamed.
A shriek tore through the corridor.
Danielle's right hand—and the dark tendril of energy it conjured—was cleanly severed. Blood sprayed violently into the air.
She stared in horror at her severed wrist, just about to scream again—when Robb drove a brutal kick into her midsection, sending her flying.
At the same time, he swiftly caught the pouch that had nearly hit the floor—his crystals and potions still inside.
"If this weren't a public area under surveillance…"
Robb flicked the blood off his blade, eyes like ice.
"You'd already be dead."
Danielle lay crumpled on the floor, unable to move. Her once-elegant dress was now smeared with grime and a bold footprint.
She clutched her bleeding wrist, the elegance on her face shattered—only terror and agony remained.
"You… how dare you…"
Just then, a cold voice echoed from the end of the hall:
"Hmph. Just like the rumors say—a brute with muscles for brains!"
Marcus had been waiting there who knows how long, wearing a deep gray apprentice's robe. A green badge glinted on his chest.
"I saw everything," he said with a sinister grin.
"How cruelly you maimed my servant."
The ugly, short man sneered.
"Fighting among students is strictly forbidden—and you, a mere apprentice candidate, dared to strike the property of a full apprentice…"