Mastery Is Earned

Over the next few days, Raymond's life unexpectedly settled into a routine. He ate three meals at the inn every day to ensure he took in enough calories. He also sparred with Henk daily, while Carter helped him identify his weaknesses and the areas he needed to improve.

On the fourth day, his custom arming coat was finished, and the coat of plates had been altered to fit him. The first time Raymond put on the complete set of armor, he found it difficult to adjust. The sudden increase in weight, the stifling heat, and the sense of restriction made him extremely uncomfortable. His movements also became noticeably slower.

Carter did not throw him straight into full-intensity training in armor. Instead, he had Raymond wear it for part of each day's training, then gradually increased the intensity so his body could adapt to the extra weight.

By the fifth day, Raymond's injuries had almost completely healed, and he no longer felt any discomfort during training.

Henk seemed to recover even faster than Raymond had expected. After only five days, there was no outward sign of injury.

Raymond could not tell whether Henk's wounds had simply been minor or whether his half-orc blood was responsible.

After wiping out the bandit camp, Raymond and Henk had become minor celebrities in Blackstone. Quite a few simple commissions came their way, but most paid poorly and would consume too much time.

Raymond was therefore in no hurry to accept a job. For one thing, he needed to grow accustomed to fighting in armor as quickly as possible. For another, he wanted to use this time to keep training and push his Basic Swordsmanship to the next level.

Henk was eager to earn money, but without Raymond, few people were willing to hire a half-orc on his own. He was also not much of a talker and had little experience dealing with people. Unable to find a suitable commission, he could only continue training with Raymond.

During this time, relatives of the rescued women arrived in Blackstone one after another. Once the town guard had verified their identities and confirmed their relationships, the women were released into their families' care.

Only Anna and her daughter Mira had no relatives come for them.

Anna's husband was dead, and his relatives had seized the land that had belonged to them. Even if she returned to her old village, she would have neither a home nor a means of survival. Anna herself made it clear that she did not want to return. She would rather remain in Blackstone and find a way to support herself.

Fortunately, she was dependable. Sophie formally hired her as a helper at the Blackstone Inn in exchange for room, board, and wages, resolving the immediate problem of how she and Mira would survive.

With little else to occupy her, Mira often slipped over to watch Raymond and Henk train near Carter's home. Sometimes, she even picked up a branch and imitated their sword swings.

Smack!

The wooden sword struck Raymond's wrist. His hand instantly went numb, and his own wooden sword slipped from his grasp. Fortunately, he was wearing his arming coat, and its padding absorbed much of the blow. Even so, the strike still hurt.

Raymond sat on the ground, breathing heavily as he looked at Henk, who was also breathing somewhat hard.

“That feint was excellent. An ordinary opponent would certainly have fallen for it,” Carter called from the side. “But Henk clearly isn't an ordinary opponent. If you want to deal with him, you'll have to put in much more work!”

After taking several deep breaths, Raymond forced himself back to his feet.

Henk surpassed Raymond by a wide margin in both size and strength, yet he was also unexpectedly agile for someone of his height and weight. After so many days of sparring, Raymond had almost never gained the upper hand.

The edge Raymond had once derived from his height and reach had disappeared entirely. He was forced to learn how to bait his opponent into attacking first, defend and counterattack, exploit gaps between attacks, and create openings of his own.

Yet this completely different fighting style made his Basic Swordsmanship Proficiency rise remarkably quickly. It seemed that varying his training methods was another way to increase Proficiency rapidly.

[Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 1 (99/100)]

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

After glancing at the panel, Raymond could not help looking forward to seeing what would happen when his Basic Swordsmanship reached Lv. 2. Unfortunately, his body was far too exhausted, and it was nearly noon. He could only set the thought aside, planning to eat lunch first and resume training that afternoon.

“What about you? You've been watching for days. Do you want to practice swordsmanship too, Little One?” Raymond asked with a smile after putting away his things and spotting Mira peeking timidly from behind a wall.

To his surprise, Mira neither shook her head nor ran away. Instead, she nodded earnestly. “Yes!”

“Oh?” Raymond perked up. “Why?”

“Because I want to become someone like you. Then I can protect Mama next time,” Mira said.

The smile faded from Raymond's face. He studied Mira carefully, then considered for a moment. “All right, you can learn with us—but only if you eat more. You're far too small. You won't manage without enough size and strength. If you want to practice swordsmanship, a strong body is the most important thing.”

“Like Uncle Henk?” Mira glanced at Henk beside Raymond. “No wonder you can't beat him.”

Hearing her words, Henk grinned, revealing two large canines.

Raymond looked wordlessly at Henk, who stood a full head taller than him.

Mira, however, lowered her head as though nothing had happened and whispered, “But I already eat a lot. I want to grow up quickly too...”

Raymond smiled faintly but said nothing more as he continued toward the Blackstone Inn.

The inn seemed to have even more patrons than it had the day before. After the two found an empty table, they began ordering their meals.

Lunch was relatively simple. Raymond asked only for a bowl of thick bean soup with a few small pieces of salt pork, a loaf of rye bread, a small piece of cheese, and, of course, a large mug of ale.

Henk sat across from him and ordered three whole loaves of dark bread along with a large bowl of vegetable soup.

As the two ate heartily in silence, a noise came from the inn's entrance.

Raymond looked toward the sound and saw a middle-aged man in a woolen coat enter. He seemed vaguely familiar.

The man scanned the room as soon as he stepped inside, then walked straight toward Raymond and Henk. Only when he drew closer did Raymond recognize Bob, the caravan master from his first commission to Silverleaf Village.

“Raymond. And, ah... Henk. Good to see you both.” Bob sat down beside them.

“It's been a while, Bob.” Raymond nodded.

Henk raised his head and glanced at him but said nothing, merely lowering his gaze and continuing to eat.

Bob paid no attention to Henk's attitude. Leaning against the table, he asked, “Do you two have any work at the moment?”

“No.”

“That's wonderful... Ah, I didn't mean it that way. You know what I mean.” Bob spoke with some embarrassment. “To be honest, I'm planning a trip to Brightwater. As you both know, the roads haven't been very safe lately...”

Raymond nodded. The danger Bob spoke of did not come from monsters.

Blackstone might be only a remote town, but Brightwater was the foremost city in the surrounding region, with large numbers of merchants and travelers coming and going every day. Even Blackstone received a flood of strangers each day, let alone prosperous Brightwater.

When desperate people were driven by cold and hunger, it was easy for them to take up weapons and become bandits. They preyed on small caravans without adequate guards, demanding tolls for passage. Many went even further and simply robbed them of their goods.

“I don't particularly want to go, but you know how it is. The people above me have given the order, so I can't refuse. That's why I want to hire a few people to travel with me, and I've heard that you two...” Bob continued.

At that moment, a man in padded armor approached. He removed the sheathed weapon from his waist and slammed it onto the table.

Four more armed men closed in behind him. They appeared to be part of the same group. Apart from their leader, who wore padded armor, the others were dressed only in linen clothes. Their equipment did not look particularly impressive.

“Sir, you're absolutely right. The road is very dangerous, and you clearly need stronger guards.” The leader spoke with a heavy northern accent, then pointed to the four companions behind him. “My team can guarantee your safety. All five of us will work for the same price as those two—and we could even go lower!”

Scrape!

Henk rose abruptly, sending his chair scraping backward. At nearly seven feet tall, he loomed before the man like a massive fortress wall.

The leader flinched, one eyelid twitching as he grew visibly wary. But after glancing sideways at the four companions behind him, he straightened his back, raised his chin, and met Henk's gaze without giving an inch.

The four followers stared at Henk and swallowed nervously. One young man even reached tensely for his weapon.

Henk noticed the movement. Slowly, he curled his lips back to reveal two thick canines, a dangerous smile spreading across his face.

Raymond rose and held out a hand to stop Henk. “Easy, Henk,” he said calmly.

Anna, who had been carrying food to the tables, noticed the disturbance. She immediately stopped and looked nervously toward Raymond.

Raymond gave her a slight wave, signaling her not to approach. “Bring each of these gentlemen a mug of ale. Put it on my account.”

The mercenaries who had tried to steal the job visibly relaxed. After hesitating briefly, they retreated one after another.

Henk dropped back onto his chair and resumed tearing into the bread in his hand.

Bob waited until Raymond was seated again before regarding him with undisguised approval. “That's exactly it, young Raymond. The way you handle things doesn't match how young you look. I imagine that's why the sheriff thinks so highly of you.”

Raymond smiled faintly but said nothing.

Before long, Anna approached with five mugs of ale and placed them before the mercenaries who had tried to take the job.

Raymond raised his own mug in their direction. After a moment's hesitation, all five mercenaries raised theirs in return.

They appeared to be nothing more than unemployed mercenaries hoping to find some work. There was no reason to regard them with such hostility.

Unfortunately, commissions to guard caravans were rarely entrusted to complete strangers from out of town. After all, who could say when greed might turn those outsiders from guards into bandits? That change could happen in an instant.