"My lord, I truly don't dare. Standing before you, I feel like all the strength has drained from my body. I can't even summon the thought of drawing my sword. Even when that Great Swordmaster Pike chose me as his opponent, I wasn't all that afraid. But the moment I see you, I just want to drop my sword and surrender. I… I don't know what's gotten into me…" Yingjielike pleaded miserably.
Damn, the old man had already been thoroughly spooked by him and had absolutely no intention of fighting.
The old man looked as if he'd been granted a pardon. He bowed hastily and scurried away.
The most pressing matter now was dealing with the slave-hunting company's commander Slov, who would be returning in a few days, along with his cousin — that Great Swordmaster Pike. Lorist felt confident against a Gold-rank swordsman, but he had never crossed blades with a Great Swordmaster before, and his heart was full of misgivings.
He recalled visiting Instructor Kruder before departing from
Although Instructor Kruder still assessed Lorist as having
Instructor Kruder thought for a moment and brought out several cups, giving Lorist a very vivid demonstration. First, he placed the smallest cup on the table and said that awakening battle-qi was like having this cup inside your body to hold your power. Then he set down a slightly larger cup — if the small cup represented the Bronze rank, then this bigger one was the Black Iron rank. Lorist nodded to show he understood.
Instructor Kruder then placed two bowls on the table, one large and one small. Pointing to the smaller bowl, he said this was the Silver rank; the larger bowl, the Gold rank. In truth, beyond the amount of battle-qi the four ranks — Bronze, Black Iron, Silver, and Gold — could hold, and the unique characteristics of each rank, such as Silver's sword glow and Gold's sword edge, there wasn't a huge fundamental difference. It was simply a matter of how long one could channel battle-qi in combat. A Black Iron fighter could sustain battle-qi use for about ten minutes in battle, while a Gold-rank could maintain it for an hour.
So if the timing was right, luck was on your side, and factors like swordsmanship came into play, it was hardly surprising for a Black Iron fighter to defeat a Gold-rank. Everyone had their off moments. Those were the conditions and differences between the four ranks of battle-qi. As for the gap between a Great Swordmaster and a Gold-rank swordsman — that was this. Instructor Kruder placed a large platter on the table. He said that in terms of sheer battle-qi volume, a Great Swordmaster didn't actually possess much more than a Gold-rank. Just like this large bowl representing the Gold rank — if you poured its water into the platter, it would fill the platter just the same.
But that was precisely where the difference lay. The platter had a far larger surface area than the bowl. When you duel a Gold-rank swordsman, you can fight outside the bowl's rim without being affected. But when you fight a Great Swordmaster, you're fighting inside the platter — every move you make is constrained by its boundaries. Instructor Kruder placed the bowl representing the Gold rank inside the platter and gave it a flick. The bowl spun around inside the platter but was trapped by the rim, unable to roll off onto the table.
Lorist suddenly had an epiphany, understanding what Instructor Kruder was trying to convey. The advancement from Gold-rank swordsman to Great Swordmaster was like transforming a cube's area into a plane's area — the total volume of power hadn't changed, but the range of control had expanded dramatically.
"What about a Sword Saint?" Lorist asked.
"A Sword Saint… should be like this table," Instructor Kruder said with a hint of wistfulness. "This table is a Sword Saint's domain. We're like the platter and bowls on the table — he can arrange us however he pleases, and we can never escape his control."
Based on Instructor Kruder's description, Lorist concluded that the key difference between a Great Swordmaster and a Gold-rank swordsman lay in domain control. Kruder had also mentioned that ever since his promotion to Great Swordmaster, when he sparred with Instructor Anfia, no matter how she attacked, he possessed a kind of clarity — or perhaps intuition — that let him know exactly where she would strike. He even had a forewarning of what sword technique she was about to transition into.
In that case, a Great Swordmaster's domain control was actually quite similar in effect to Lorist's dynamic vision ability. The difference was that a Great Swordmaster's domain control was relatively general — primarily a sense of perception — whereas Lorist's dynamic vision allowed him to perceive concrete details. When a sword strike came at him, a Great Swordmaster would sense which area of his body was roughly being targeted and respond accordingly. Lorist, on the other hand, could clearly see the sword's shadow, know its speed and its force.
Yingjielike had also mentioned that he once fought the Great Swordmaster Pike and believed he could hold his own for a hundred exchanges. So Lorist wasn't afraid of facing a Great Swordmaster, confident that one could at best fight him to a draw. Now that he understood a Great Swordmaster surpassed a Gold-rank in domain control, Lorist had already made his decision — he intended to match that Great Swordmaster in a contest of domain control and show him a completely different kind of spatial dominance.
---
Lorist stepped onto the balcony — the top-floor balcony of the manor's main building. From here, every movement within the estate grounds could be observed with perfect clarity. It was said that this was Commander Slov's favorite spot. Perhaps standing on this balcony gave one the sensation of having the entire manor firmly in one's grasp.
The six chariot-mounted ballistas were running in rotations. Although each only needed three men to operate, Dorles had conscripted five per vehicle. His reasoning was that the chariots were large enough to comfortably fit five — the extra two carried great shields and halberds, providing additional defensive capability and close-range striking power. They could also rotate in to replace casualties, ensuring the ballista's ranged fire never ceased due to manpower shortages.
On a small hillside nearby,
Further away was a larger training ground — ten acres of vineyard that Bodenfeng had leveled to serve as the heavy infantry's drill field. Black plate armor, black helmets, black kite shields. From a distance, the six-hundred-man black phalanx had already taken shape, resembling a dark and silent beast radiating menace. Lorist was very pleased. Bodenfeng truly deserved his reputation as a former captain of a heavy infantry corps — in just a few days, he had trained these six hundred heavy infantry into a disciplined formation.
The two thousand slaves rescued from the slave-hunting company's camp and the nearly one thousand slaves already at the estate had all enthusiastically joined Lorist's family forces. Aside from nearly a hundred homesick stragglers, virtually all the able-bodied slaves and their families had signed on for the northward march. Together with the existing slave soldiers, the final tally left Lorist both surprised and delighted — nearly nine hundred possessed Black Iron-level battle-qi, and over four hundred had Bronze-level strength.
Lorist decided to expand every unit. First, the heavy infantry was enlarged from five hundred to six hundred. Next came Dorles's chariot corps, totaling sixty-five men — twelve chariots with sixty crew plus Dorles and four mounted signalmen for command purposes.
Terman hadn't asked for additional knights, but the twenty-eight Black Iron retainers he had selected were all three-star Black Iron fighters. As for
All soldiers joining these four units were Black Iron rank. The remaining one-hundred-plus Black Iron fighters were recruited by Al into the main camp's guard detail, including seven Silver-rank swordsmen who had been forced into slavery due to their families' misfortunes. Meanwhile, the four-hundred-and-twenty-man crossbow company assembled by Mons Malek was composed entirely of Bronze-rank slaves. The remaining few dozen Black Iron and Bronze-rank slaves were funneled into Ross's spearman battalion of over twelve hundred men, prompting Ross to howl in protest that his battalion looked the biggest on paper yet was the weakest in strength. They carried spears and wore leather armor — worse off than some minor lord's garrison.
Lorist offered his apologies. The spearman battalion's purpose was to maintain order and provide security during the northward march for the convoy and personnel. Actual combat would fall to the heavy infantry, chariots, knights, and light cavalry. The spearman battalion was there to bulk up the numbers and mop up after battles.
In truth, the most suitable candidate to command the spearman battalion was Yingjielike. The old man had served as a city defense officer and had plenty of experience leading spearman formations. But since he hadn't truly committed yet, Lorist wasn't comfortable entrusting him with the role and decided to observe him for a while longer.
Yuri had taken his light cavalry scouts and vanished to parts unknown — nowhere to be seen in the manor. Out in the distant vineyards, clouds of arrows periodically rose into the sky — that was the crossbow company drilling. On the manor walls stood the garrison spearmen on duty, while those off-shift were divided into squads for drill under their respective leaders, practicing formations, marching, and charging drills.
Lorist now commanded a family army of over twenty-three hundred men, plus nearly three thousand camp followers. Marching north with a six-thousand-strong column without proper training and organization would create unimaginable chaos. Lorist had decided to remain at the Slov estate for an extended period and set out for Northland only after everything was ready.
---
That evening,
The two treasuries yielded a rich haul. The large one was likely the communal fund, filled with all manner of gold coins, silver coins, and copper coins worth roughly forty to fifty thousand gold fordes. The smaller treasury appeared to be Slov's personal hoard — exclusively gold fordes and gold banknotes, valued at over seventy thousand gold coins. As for the vault, it contained Slov's personal collection of weapons, rare armor, and secret technique manuals, which were perfectly suited for Lorist to award to his knights in the future. Artwork and other treasures could be used for gifts and building relationships.
Taking the estate had solved everything.
Lorist had thought that was the extent of the spoils, but when he handed Fatty Shi the small chest of gold coins confiscated from Yingjielike's household to deposit into the common fund, Fatty Shi realized he had overlooked a significant matter. And so the families of the slave-hunting company's members began to suffer. Fatty Shi wheeled the spinning wheel and turning chair into the residential quarter and started inviting the former residents to experience the delightful sensation of dizziness, weakness, and nausea, then went door to door searching for valuables.
Fatty Shi reported, "My lord, after three days of searching, we seized approximately thirty-four thousand gold fordes from nearly three hundred households in the residential quarter. We also recovered seven high-grade battle-qi manuals and various treasures, all of which have been turned over to
This was indeed a problem. They couldn't join the northward march, and simply releasing them wasn't an option. They had been utterly ruined by Lorist — the enmity ran deep. But killing them felt wrong. The atrocities had been committed by their relatives. While they had enjoyed the fruits of those crimes, it wasn't quite enough to warrant execution. In truth, the proposal Al had made days ago was the most practical solution — sell all the slave-hunting company's relatives to slavers and let them experience what it felt like to be slaves themselves.
Lorist hesitated. He had publicly declared that the
---
A three-masted ocean vessel was slowly approaching the docks of Amytlin Harbor, the Slov slave-hunting company's banner flying from its mast. This was Commander Slov's personal ship. Since the crew were all locals who knew the coastal waters intimately, no pilot was needed.
"The docks are deserted today — can't see a soul," Commander Slov remarked to Great Swordmaster Pike, who stood beside him. Years of comfortable living had expanded Slov's figure enormously; he was shaped like a barrel.
"You should think about who you are. Nowadays, when townswomen want to frighten their children, they use your name — telling the kids to behave or you'll snatch them up and sell them. So of course no one's at the dock when our ship appears. That's perfectly normal." Great Swordmaster Pike was a tall, elderly man with an expression of haughty arrogance, looking down on everyone around him.
"Heh heh, true. But having people fear you is always good. If you're too kind, these lowlifes will think you're weak and easy to push around, and they'll scheme to take advantage of you. This way is better — make them afraid, and they'll keep their distance and not dare meddle in your affairs." Commander Slov chuckled, sharing the life wisdom he had accumulated.
The ship finally moored at the dock. Several sailors climbed down and secured the mooring ropes to the wooden pilings, then lowered and fixed the gangplank. Commander Slov and Master Pike descended with over twenty men carrying several large crates.
Once on the dock, Slov looked around and cursed viciously. "Did I stay away too long? Those bastards at the estate have forgotten to send horse-drawn carriages to welcome us! I'll give them a thorough whipping when we get back."
Great Swordmaster Pike surveyed the surroundings, his expression turning grave. "Careful. Something feels off…"
Clap. Clap. Clap. Applause rang out as Lorist appeared on the dock, flanked by Pat and Reddy, each carrying three tubes of javelins in hand.
"Who are you?" Great Swordmaster Pike narrowed his eyes, fixing his gaze on Lorist with a sharpness like that of a hawk.
Lorist ignored him and continued clapping. Six hundred heavy infantry in black armor, bearing black kite shields, materialized behind him, encircling the dock. Immediately after, over four hundred crossbowmen appeared behind the heavy infantry.
If the appearance of the heavy infantry hadn't fazed Master Pike, the crossbowmen definitely changed his expression. Even as a Great Swordmaster, surviving the concentrated volley of over four hundred crossbows was virtually impossible.
"Just who are you, and what do you want?" Great Swordmaster Pike demanded sharply. Beside him, the rotund Commander Slov had gone pale, shrinking behind two chainmail-clad bodyguards, every trace of his usual bluster completely gone.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that I want your lives," Lorist replied lightly, as though claiming a Great Swordmaster's life was a trivial affair.
"You'll need the ability to back that up," Great Swordmaster Pike snarled, drawing his sword.
Lorist raised his hand. The twang of bowstrings shook the ears as four hundred and twenty crossbow bolts screamed through the air…
Great Swordmaster Pike's sword became a blur, deflecting and shattering bolts amid flashes of steel…
The hail of bolts paused briefly. Pike's hair hung in wild disarray, and he looked utterly wretched, yet his body bore not a single wound. He had weathered the entire volley single-handedly.
Seizing the moment while the crossbowmen reloaded, Great Swordmaster Pike let out a piercing cry, his body transforming into a streak of lightning as he lunged directly at Lorist…
The two were over twenty meters apart. Lorist smiled coldly, extended his hand, and a javelin appeared in his palm…
The javelin shrieked as it shot forward at even greater speed toward the oncoming figure. Great Swordmaster Pike was forced to raise his sword to block…
The impact of the javelin's force sent him staggering two diagonal steps backward…
Great Swordmaster Pike's face drained of color. A mere javelin carrying such tremendous force — he had never encountered anything like it. But there was no time for astonishment. Lorist's javelins were already flying in a relentless torrent, hurtling toward his head…
Boom. Boom. Boom. The javelins burst one after another. Great Swordmaster Pike retreated while parrying, his sword flashing desperately as he struggled to fend them off…
"Aagh…" — Great Swordmaster Pike's scream.
"Ngh…" — Great Swordmaster Pike's stifled groan.
All six tubes of javelins spent, Lorist's face flushed red. He let out a long breath, his limbs going weak. Throwing seventy-two javelins infused with internal energy in one go had been taxing even for him. He shouldn't do that again — he needed to reserve some strength for unexpected contingencies.
Great Swordmaster Pike wasn't dead yet. One javelin was embedded in his left thigh, another in his right shoulder, and the worst wound was in his abdomen — a javelin had pierced clean through to his back. Having blocked sixty-nine out of seventy-two javelins, Pike had performed above and beyond. Unfortunately, three had gotten through.
"You… you didn't give me a chance to fight properly…" Great Swordmaster Pike muttered, blood bubbling from his mouth…
"Why on earth would I fight you at close range? That's far too dangerous," Lorist said. Though Pike's voice was feeble, Lorist could still hear every word clearly. He waved his hand, and the crossbow bolts flew once more. Great Swordmaster Pike was instantly turned into a pincushion, dying with his eyes wide open.
As for Commander Slov and his twenty-odd retainers, they had already been cut down in the first volley.
"Clear the battlefield, secure the ship, and cut off Slov's and this Great Swordmaster Pike's heads to bring back," Lorist ordered.