The moment he dismounted, Lorist went to visit old Steward Kreis and gave him a brief account of the situation at
For the white-haired old steward, having once had Viscount Kems's forces at the gates had been the
Lorist deeply regretted running his mouth. With no choice but to pinch his nose, he pushed the old steward's wooden wheelchair to the Corpse Cave once more and stayed with the old man there as he mumbled his prayers for about an hour before finally being released.
When he returned to the main building courtyard where he lived, he found Steward Spell standing at the entrance waiting for his return, a large stack of animal-hide papers in his hands. It was clear that he wanted to report to Lorist on all the major and minor events — and trivial matters — that had occurred at Maple Forest Manor over the past three months.
Lorist waved his hand impatiently. "Can't you see I've just rushed back covered in dust? If there's anything, we'll talk tomorrow. Oh, and Steward Spell, I brought back a lot of supplies this time. Go find
"Um... should we also invite Miss Baisha, My Lord..." Steward Spell said hesitantly.
"Why would we want that woman? She's nothing but a hindrance..." Lorist's gaze sharpened. "Was it during these three months I was away that this wretched woman stirred up trouble around the manor again?"
"No..." Steward Spell hurriedly explained. "No, since the last time Miss Baisha was reprimanded by you, My Lord, she's been keeping to herself in her small courtyard. Besides accompanying the First Young Master's illegitimate child, she's been buried in diligent sword practice. I just... I just felt that, regardless of everything, she is still a Family Knight, and it doesn't seem right for her to not participate in family affairs..."
"Steward Spell, I want you to understand one thing — that child is my elder brother's son. He is not some illegitimate child. Furthermore, it's not that Miss Baisha is forbidden from participating in the family's affairs; raising my elder brother's son to adulthood is her greatest contribution to the family. As for your saying she's been training hard with her sword, that's a good thing. It seems she finally has enough self-awareness to know that her level of skill isn't fit for the big stage. Is there anything else?" Lorist said with a somber face.
"No, My Lord. This subordinate will take his leave." Steward Spell bowed and withdrew.
……
Lorist pushed open the door to the guest room. Berunek, who had been sitting by the window reading a book, rose immediately and bowed when he saw who it was.
Lorist said, "Enough, no need for formalities. Sit down — let me see how your recovery is progressing."
Berunek sat back down and placed his right hand on a small table beside him. He had always been filled with curiosity about his lord's peculiar method of checking one's body by taking his pulse. However, he figured that pulse-taking was probably some new medical technique Lorist had picked up in
Lorist glanced at the book Berunek had been reading — a biography set in the legendary Age of Magical Civilization, titled *The Journey of a Mage*. It seemed to be one of the several dozen volumes he had brought back last time.
"My Lord, I apologize. Last time I saw Elina carrying some books out to air them, I borrowed this one to read. After all, staying cooped up in a room all day is dreadfully boring," Berunek said.
"No matter. If you want to read, take whatever you like — just don't lose them." Lorist picked up the book and set it on the small table as a cushion, then placed Berunek's left hand on top and began taking his pulse.
"Your recovery is going well. You've already started cultivating combat force?" Lorist asked.
"Of course, my Lord," Berunek said. "Last month I felt my strength returning, so I tried cultivating combat force and found it had recovered to normal. I've been practicing every day since then."
"Stop practicing that military combat force," Lorist said. "Your body is still a bit weak at its core. Military combat force is designed to excavate the body's latent potential — your current condition isn't suited for it. Your combat force is wood-attribute, isn't that right?"
"That's right..." Berunek nodded.
Lorist fished a high-level combat force manual from inside his robe and placed it on the table. "Practice this from now on. I'll give you one year — I believe you can break through to Gold rank."
Berunek froze, staring at the wood-attribute high-level combat force manual titled *Verdant
"What's this? Excited? Take it and train well. This wood-attribute *Verdant Combat Force* is said to be extremely effective for healing injuries and restoring energy — I think it's perfectly suited to your situation. Once you've advanced to Gold rank, you can serve me properly then."
"Yes, my Lord. I will not disappoint your expectations." Berunek's expression turned solemn as he performed a hand-over-heart salute.
...
Elina stood at the foot of the stairs and executed a half-curtsy. "My Lord, welcome back."
"Elina, no need for formalities. Draw me a bath and have the kitchen downstairs prepare something to eat." Lorist unbuckled the two swords from his waist and set them on the table. Ever since Young
"Very well, My Lord." Elina went to the small washroom beside the bedroom and carried out a large bathing tub made of maple wood. She then lit the fireplace, placed a large copper kettle on the iron stand, and began to heat water.
Watching Elina bustling about, Lorist began to wonder what it would be like to build a rudimentary solar water heater. He knew the principle well enough — really, all he needed was a large metal water tank painted black to absorb sunlight. The only problem was that he had no suitable sheet iron or copper. This wasn't like those copper bowls and basins that could be hammered paper-thin. If he left it to the coppersmiths, the tank walls would end up at least a finger's breadth thick. Forget it — he'd abandon the idea. After all, he had a maid to wait on him and no need to do the work himself. There was no point thinking up inventions just to be lazy.
Soon the water was ready. Lorist climbed into the large tub and settled into it with satisfaction, then noticed Elina tidying up the clothes he had stripped off.
"Elina, come here," Lorist said.
Elina flinched, and two garments slipped from the pile in her arms.
"Come here and scrub my back…" Lorist ordered.
Elina's face flushed red. She hesitated, then moved over at a slow, reluctant pace, her petite body trembling slightly…
Reaching the edge of the tub, Elina's shaking hands picked up a bar of soap bean soap and began applying it to Lorist's back.
The soap bean was the name of a type of tree — a very common plant across Galentea with a wide distribution. It was said that people had long ago begun using the fruit of this plant, the soap bean, to make cleaning soap. This soap bean soap had a pleasant fragrance and left a wonderfully refreshing feeling on the skin after use.
Once she had finished applying the soap, Elina took a fine linen towel and began to wash it off…
"Elina, time to wash the front…," said Lorist.
Elina remained silent.
Lorist turned around to find Elina standing beside the tub, head bowed, face flushed red, trembling…
With a wicked grin, Lorist pulled her into his arms and lifted her straight into the tub.
"My clothes…," Elina stammered, trembling.
"Hmm, Elina, your clothes look like they could use a wash too," Lorist said as he began undressing her.
Elina squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip, not uttering a single sound, remaining perfectly still as Lorist worked away at her. By the time he had stripped her bare, she had curled up in his arms like a quail caught in the rain, shivering all over…
Lorist's hands roamed ceaselessly up and down her body. Elina leaned her head weakly against his arm, her body growing hotter by the moment. Only whenever Lorist's touch grazed a sensitive spot would a faint hum slip from her nose…
Lorist could no longer hold back. He rose naked from the tub, stepped out, and carried Elina toward the bed.
With her eyes still shut and her face burning red, Elina reminded him in a small voice, "M-My Lord, you haven't eaten anything yet…"
"Mm, I've decided to devour you first…" Lorist said.
……
By the time Lorist rose from the bed, night had already fallen. Silver moonlight streamed through the window and spilled across the bed, casting Elina's body in a glow that made her look like an exquisitely sculpted jade statue. The girl had sunk into a deep slumber, two faint trails of dried tears still marking her pale cheeks.
Lorist tenderly drew the quilt over her and gently wiped the tearstains from her face. A deep sense of guilt churned within him. The girl was nothing like him — without awakened combat force, she could barely withstand his frenzy. The last time she had reached her limit, she still held on without a word of complaint, letting him vent himself upon her even as she wept. It was only after he had emptied three months' worth of pent-up energy that he realized she had already lost consciousness.
He couldn't keep being so reckless. If this went on, it would leave a dark shadow over the girl's feelings about intimacy. What was supposed to be a joyful affair would lose all meaning if it always felt like forced submission. And yet, strange as it was, every time Lorist saw Elina trembling like that, an urge to throw her onto the bed would stir inside him. Especially when he saw her yielding, pliant demeanor — offering herself up to do with as he pleased — he found it irresistibly tempting and simply wanted to ravage her thoroughly.
Stop. It had to be from watching too many of those Japanese adult action films in his previous life — how else did he end up thinking about dripping wax, whips, and bondage? Lorist smacked his forehead twice and chanted silently, I'm not a pervert, I'm not a pervert, until his mood finally settled. He found a nightshirt, threw it on, and walked to the window to gaze into the distance.
The distant White Deer Hill was draped in a silvery gauze by the moonlight, with several white deer leaping and frolicking about in graceful arcs, like a silent film playing out in the distance. As Lorist watched, he felt his mind growing quieter by the moment, until not a shred of restlessness remained. Without thinking, he settled into a horse stance and began circulating the Goldwater Art…
He could only grope his way forward through self-guided cultivation. Lorist believed that reaching the next stage beyond concealed force would take at least several years — perhaps even a decade or more. Short of grinding away with daily practice and the patience of water wearing through stone, there was no other way. As for reaching the legendary realm of transforming force, Lorist dared not harbor such great hopes.
But tonight, beneath the silver moonlight, after activating the Goldwater Art, Lorist found himself standing on the shore of a boundless blue lake. The water was perfectly still, like a mirror. He felt himself everywhere at once — as though seeing through a god's-eye lens — watching scenes play out across the blue mirror's surface. First came images of himself in the arena, accepting challenges from silver-rank fighters. The mirror kept splitting, each shard reflecting another bout, and the mirrors multiplied and multiplied. Gradually, the scene shifted to the night ambush by two gold-rank swordsmen, followed by every battle fought along the northern caravan route…
Lorist watched in silence, comprehending in silence. Never before had he perceived so clearly the shortcomings in each of his battles, knowing with perfect clarity what he should have done differently. The visions continued until the twin gold-rank shield-guardian brothers crumpled to the ground, each Flying Feather mercenary fell dead beneath his blade, and finally, Head Adams' severed head went spinning through the air…
In the haze of the transcendent state, Lorist seemed to hear a cracking sound, and then felt his entire body suddenly lighten, as though his physical form had shed its shackles. A whisper like the wind drifted past his ears. He opened his eyes, and the trees and grass atop White Deer Ridge in the distance stood out in sharp detail, every blade and leaf clearly distinguishable...
Lorist slowly withdrew from his cultivation and rose to his feet, only to find his entire body drenched in sweat. His sleep clothes carried a foul, acrid smell.
He glanced at Ilena, who was sleeping soundly in bed, then grabbed a couple of changes of clothes and quietly made his way downstairs. By the well in the courtyard, he gave himself a thorough, refreshing wash.
On his way back upstairs, he ran into Pat stepping out of his room. "My lord, so it was you! I was wondering who had gone out. Hmm? My lord, you look a bit different..."
Lorist laughed. "Different how?"
Pat furrowed his brow and thought hard for a good while. "Well, my lord looks radiant — yes, that's the word, radiant, especially energetic..."
...On a side note: Wishing all fellow readers a happy New Year and all the best. May the new year bring you great achievements and abundant wealth — money, cars, houses, wives, and children, everything you could wish for. May your parents enjoy good health and live to a hundred. Now that I've said my auspicious words, I must first offer my apologies here. I'll be heading to the countryside for New Year visits over the coming days. Although there's a computer there, I won't be able to sit and write for seven or eight hours. I'll have to pause updates temporarily and resume around the fifth. All I can do is say I'm sorry...