"I've already told you — this is an equal exchange. If your brother isn't willing, he can leave at any time!"
Raylin said slowly.
"If you don't believe me, you can ask him!" Raylin pointed at Lombarton beside him.
"Sister!" Lombarton lowered his head timidly, but his voice remained firm. "Working for Master Raylin was entirely my own decision. It has nothing to do with anyone else. Please don't try to stop me…"
"You—" The young woman was exasperated. She stepped forward and grabbed Lombarton's arm, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a large patch of bruises. "Look at what you've become! And you're still obsessed with those knight novels…"
"Ahem!" Raylin suddenly coughed, cutting the young lady off.
"This is my shop. If you want to lecture your brother, take it somewhere else. Don't disrupt my business…"
Raylin spoke with complete self-righteousness, even though there wasn't a single customer in his shop at the moment.
"I— I'm sorry, my lord!" The young woman clapped a hand over her mouth, suddenly realizing that her earlier words had also been an offense to Raylin.
She bowed, revealing a generous expanse of pale skin at her chest, then seized Lombarton and hurried away. The faint sound of their continued bickering drifted back.
Verlin, meanwhile, gazed after her retreating figure, his expression somewhat dazed.
"What a pure, kind-hearted girl! That's what you're thinking, isn't it?" Seeing Verlin like this, Raylin's face suddenly broke into a not entirely well-intentioned smile as he asked.
"Of course! Miss Venus is an incredibly hardworking girl — she holds down three jobs all by herself to help support the family…"
Verlin answered instinctively.
"Hmm! Whether she's kind or not, I'm not really in a position to judge. But as for pure?" Raylin's smile widened further.
"Boss! You can beat me, you can scold me, but you can't insult her reputation!" Verlin clenched his fists, his face flushing scarlet.
"Love! Ah, love! It is so beautiful! So brilliant! It drives one to court destruction like a moth to flame! It can even turn a timid sheep into a ferocious lion…"
Raylin recited a proverb, then without waiting for Verlin to ask, continued on his own: "That Miss Venus just now — she was wearing rough hemp clothing, and she did her best to conceal it, but there was still the smell of cheap perfume on her, and it wasn't from today. Besides, she had faint traces of eyeshadow on her face, her handkerchief was a fine piece from old Walker's shop, and the number of coins she carried seemed a bit too generous… During that brief contact just now, she deliberately or otherwise brushed against me at least three times! This is clearly some sort of professional habit…"
With every word Raylin spoke, Verlin felt as though a heavy hammer were striking his chest, and he staggered back a step.
Nevertheless, Raylin still delivered the final, fatal blow: "If I'm not mistaken, you'd probably be able to find that Miss Venus in the famous Nightingale Alley around midnight..."
"Oh! No! That can't be true!"
Verlin's face twisted in anguish, but his pale expression made it obvious he already believed every word Raylin had said. He stood frozen for a moment, then suddenly let out a desperate shout and rushed out.
"Heh... the foolish dreams of youth!" Raylin laughed, thoroughly amused.
"Shattering illusions and helping young people see the cruelty of life sooner — it really is quite entertaining!"
……
Lombarton returned before long, bearing two bright red slap marks on his face. He didn't say a word to Raylin and went straight into his daily hauling work.
As for Verlin, the poor fellow reportedly spent the entire night drinking at the tavern and didn't show up to work until the next day — only to be turned away by a disgusted Raylin, who told him to get rid of the smell of alcohol on him immediately or not bother coming back at all.
Boom!
Watching the last anvil being carried back into the warehouse, the already battered and bruised Lombarton finally let out a sigh of relief and fixed Raylin with an expectant gaze.
"Kid! You're sharp, and you've got grit! I've made a decision — from now on, you can come into my shop for five minutes every day when no one else is around, and look over my merchandise..."
Raylin declared, suppressing a grin.
"Huh???" Lombarton looked up in astonishment.
"What's with that face? Did you really think I was going to announce that I'm taking you as my apprentice, training you to become a Knight, so you'd rise to greatness, marry a princess, and live happily ever after?"
A teasing smile tugged at the corner of Raylin's lips. "Kid! You're still way too green..."
Lombarton's face went deathly white, then flushed with the embarrassment of having his schemes seen right through — alternating between green and red.
"Liar! You're a liar!" he suddenly roared, then bolted out at full speed.
Smack! Running too fast, he tripped and went down hard on the ground, splattering himself with dirt.
"Haha...""Haha...""Come look! Isn't that the fool from the Flame and Hammer shop?"
Lombarton's wretched state immediately drew a merciless crowd of onlookers from the street.
Under the jeering crowd, Lombarton screamed wildly and scrambled away as fast as he could, rolling and crawling in a desperate retreat.
Linley leaned against the doorframe, watching the whole spectacle with a faint smile.
"Boss! You're mean! No! You're seriously the worst!" Willing stood behind Linley, two enormous dark circles under his eyes and his face noticeably thinner, mumbling the words in a daze.
"Heh… it's not like this is your first day knowing me!" Linley shrugged, then headed to the back courtyard.
He drew a black Cross Sword from its sheath. It bore a striking resemblance to the "Fallen" long sword from the Chip's design schematic, but there wasn't the faintest ripple of energy about it.
This was a replica Linley had forged based on the design — it matched the original only in outward shape and weight, with not a single energy rune or inscription inside.
"Ha!" Linley thrust the sword straight ahead, executing a textbook sword technique!
The razor-sharp black blade cut through the air on both sides, trailing a piercing whistle of displaced wind.
Though the Fallen long sword had yet to be completed, Linley was already getting a head start on adapting to the feel of the weapon.
Thrust! Downward chop! Diagonal slash!
Linley's figure seemed to split into several afterimages across the ground, each pose lingering as a frozen silhouette in midair.
Finally, Linley vaulted high into the air. "Cross Slash!"
A massive cross of luminous sword energy carved through a huge boulder sitting in the courtyard!
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Under Linley's Cross Slash, the boulder instantly shattered into four equal pieces.
"This…?" Willing was struck dumb by the terrifying power. His mouth hung half open, making him look like a giant toad.
"I've seen the Knight from the Baron's estate fight, and he definitely didn't have this kind of destructive power. Could it be that Lord Linley is a legendary Great Knight?"
Willing's jaw remained slack for a long time, and he just stood there frozen in place.
"What's wrong? Want to learn?" Linley picked up a white towel and wiped his hands, glancing at Willing's stunned expression with an amused grin.
"Yes!… No! I… don't want to…" Willing's mind was spinning in circles, and even his words came out in incoherent jumbles.
"So? Are you interested or not?" A faint smile played at the corners of Linley's lips.
It took Willing quite a while before he could even react, still unable to believe that such a windfall could fall on his head — he had been sufficiently burned by Linley's antics. "Boss! Oh! No, Lord! What I mean is, I'm already nineteen! That's quite old, and I've never had a single day of formal training. I can barely read a few words. Aren't Knights supposed to be trained as young as possible? If you're looking for an apprentice, I think Lombardo would be much more suitable than me..."
That was what he said, but faced with the temptation of great power, Willing's breathing had already grown heavy and ragged.
"If you must have a reason! Then there's only one!" Linley spoke slowly, and Willing's ears perked up involuntarily.
"Because I feel like it! Is that reason enough for you!"
Linley grinned happily — Warlocks were exactly the kind of creatures who acted on every passing whim.
Moreover, Linley believed that constantly suppressing a Warlock's emotions was never a good thing. One had to find some outlet for release. And he found Willing to be a pleasing sight, so he simply followed his own heart and did as he wished.
"Fine!" Faced with this overwhelming reason, Willing could only laugh bitterly.
"If Lombardo knew this was the reason, he'd probably cry himself to death!" In the depths of his heart, Willing muttered silently.
"So? Are you going to learn or not?"
"Learn! Of course I'll learn!" Willing agreed without hesitation. At a time like this, to refuse would make him a fool!!!
...
*Crack!* A wooden sword swept across and struck Willing hard across the face.
The poor fellow crumpled to the ground and couldn't get up for a long while.
"Your footwork is far too slow! You need to sync your steps with your breathing! Understood?"
Linley stood before Willing in a set of fitted black training clothes. "Get up! Now!"
"Y-Yes, my Lord!" Willing sucked in a sharp breath and forced himself to stand. Linley's control of his force was masterful — enough to make it hurt without causing any real internal damage.
Back when Linley had first agreed to train him, Willing had intended to call him "Teacher." But there was no way Linley would actually take on such a disciple, and he refused without a moment's hesitation.
After an hour of sword practice, they moved on, as always, to the Breathing Technique.
"For Knights, what they cultivate is a type of — Life Energy, also known as the Vital Spirit!" Linley spoke with the tireless air of a man who never grew weary of teaching.
"Centered two inches below the navel, in an inverted triangular area, is what we believe to be the origin of the Life Spirit. A Knight's cultivation involves adjusting the body's secretions through breathing rhythm, thereby generating more Life Spirit..."
Linley began to teach Willing the Cross Sword Breathing Technique as he had refined it.
His perspective was now exceptionally broad, his knowledge vast, and he even possessed experience in cultivating Brand Warriors. With just a casual optimization of the Farell family's original Cross Sword Breathing Technique, he had already achieved an immense improvement.
By Linley's estimate, his improved version of the Breathing Technique would already rank among the very top tier among Great Knights.