The room was spacious and comfortable. Crystal chandeliers lit carved furniture and a soft Persian carpet.

Silk curtains stirred in the wind, revealing the lively harbor beyond the window.

An oak dining table covered with a silk tablecloth stood against the wall. In the corner alcove, a copper bathtub had been polished bright, with velvet bathrobes hanging neatly beside it.

Beside the fireplace sat a cushioned armchair, perfectly positioned to admire the brass mantel clock keeping precise time.

Clean spare blankets were faintly visible inside the slightly open wardrobe.

The overall atmosphere was warm and natural, with a touch of simple luxury.

Compared to this place, the plain dormitory at the estate seemed instantly shabby.

"Mr. Roland."

After showing Roland briefly around the room, Colin's round face revealed a friendly smile set at exactly the right degree.

"Would you like me to arrange attendants to serve you?"

Seeing Roland shake his head, Colin tactfully said no more. He merely pointed to the hanging cord on the wall.

A delicate brass bell was tied to the end of the cord.

"If you need anything else, ring the bell at any time, and we will immediately send someone over."

"Thank you, Mr. Colin."

"You are too polite."

Colin bowed slightly and turned to leave.

As the door closed, Roland finally released a long breath.

Enduring the soreness throughout his body, he carefully removed the nearly ruined formalwear and stepped into the bathtub filled with hot water.

When the warmth covered him, he let out a comfortable sigh, then leaned fully against the edge of the tub and began recalling the thrilling battle just now.

"After activating [Fighting Spirit], the rate at which Strength and Agility improved was faster than expected, but this kind of increase is completely different from the attribute growth during a job change."

Roland stared at his faintly trembling hands, thinking through the difference.

"The attribute increase from a job change feels innate. With a little adaptation, I can control it as naturally as my own arm. But the attributes forcibly added by [Fighting Spirit] are like external power poured in by force..."

Recalling the feeling during battle when his body had nearly burst apart, Roland rubbed his temples.

"Once it exceeds my body's limit, it harms me instead."

At this point in his thoughts, Roland lowered his head and examined his arms.

Blue-purple veins beneath the skin looked like wriggling worms. They swelled and contracted with his heartbeat, threatening to burst at any moment.

"Looks like when using [Fighting Spirit], I not only have to resist the erosion of reason, I also need to pay attention to what my body can withstand. However..."

Roland frowned, estimating inwardly.

"After activating [Fighting Spirit] just now, it lasted less than two minutes. That should be my body's current limit."

"But in actual combat, two minutes is already enough to turn the battle around..."

Recalling that overwhelming Strength and Agility, Roland ran his tongue over his dry lips.

Amid the steam rising from the hot water, his gaze sharpened.

"Trading two or three days of recovery for two minutes of over-limit burst is a very good deal. Besides..."

A confident smile touched the corner of his mouth.

"As my strength improves, that duration can continue to lengthen... As for the other combat skills..."

Roland's fingertips tapped the bathtub in a steady rhythm.

Every detail of his battle with Gundar reappeared in his mind. The combat techniques that had burst forth at the critical moment were now being calmly analyzed by him.

"The combat techniques granted by [Short Weapon Mastery], the bodily flexibility and left-right hand coordination of [Twin Martial Performance], combined with [Steel Heart Resonance] making heavy things light and light things strike heavy..."

"The effect of these three stacked together was even stronger than I expected. And..."

After the actual battle just now, Roland had gained a deeper understanding of the [Twin Martial Performance] trait.

"This perfect two-handed synchro..."

He raised both arms and held them in an absolutely symmetrical posture amid the steam.

"Perhaps it is not only usable in clashes between cold weapons... If I can practice Spirit control to proficiency..."

Roland formed a sword-holding posture with his left hand while spreading the fingers of his right like he was casting.

"Close combat and cantrip casting at the same time... No, if I can take it one step further..."

The image of Fire Bolts condensing in both palms and weaving into a net appeared before his eyes. His heartbeat jumped, and the water surface trembled with it.

But after only a moment, Roland shook his head.

"Training Spirit control is much harder than I imagined. It needs time and careful practice. I can't rush it..."

As he thought, Roland scooped up warm water from the bathtub.

After washing the blood from his body, he walked to the wardrobe and changed into a clean bathrobe.

He was just about to drink some water to moisten his dry throat when dull footsteps sounded outside the door.

Soon, a knock rang out, accompanied by a low voice.

"Roland, may I come in?"

"Of course..."

Hearing this familiar voice, Roland quickly stepped forward.

As the door opened, a burly figure in black plate armor appeared before him.

"Lord Gundar, please come in."

Roland bowed slightly and moved aside, though his gaze landed on the longsword in the other man's hand, which flowed with silver light.

The entire sword had no unnecessary decoration. Simple lines outlined a perfect curve, and every inch of metal seemed to carry a cold edge.

"It's Mithril!"

Although his gaze lingered on the longsword only for an instant, Roland immediately recognized the precious material through his solid forging knowledge.

According to what Hawk had taught him, Mithril was extremely rare. At present, it could only be mined in small quantities from territories strictly controlled by Dwarves.

Implements forged from Mithril were not only hard in texture, but also lighter and more agile than weapons made from other metals.

If the craftsman's forging skill was sufficiently exquisite, a Mithril weapon could be called a treasure every warrior dreamed of.

"Heh..."

Noticing the burning gaze Roland cast toward the longsword in his hand, Gundar chuckled and placed it on the wooden table.

"Try it. This is the reward His Majesty Morne has given you, a Mithril longsword forged by Dwarves."

Forged by Dwarves?

Hearing this key phrase, Roland's breathing quickened.

On the continent of Faerun, every race had its own unique skills.

And in the field of forging, Dwarven craftsmanship was unmatched in the world.

As for a Mithril longsword carefully forged by Dwarven craftsmen, it was a priceless treasure across the entire continent of Faerun. Even if one spent all one's wealth, one might not be able to obtain one.

But now, this sharp weapon belonged to him.

"Thank you, Lord Gundar."

After softly thanking him, Roland impatiently took the Mithril longsword in his hand.

It felt cool with a hint of warmth. Swinging it felt little different from an ordinary iron sword, only slightly lighter.

But through the [Steel Heart Resonance] trait, he could keenly sense the clear difference in material quality between the two.

If they collided, a notch would probably appear on the iron sword's edge in an instant, while the Mithril longsword would certainly remain completely undamaged.

"If I had used this Mithril longsword when facing the mutant Kobold in Pinewood Town, even without using the Combat Technique [Cleave], I probably could have cut through those hard scales on its body..."

Seeing Roland look reluctant to put it down, Gundar said nothing more and continued in a deep voice.

"Aside from this Mithril longsword, His Majesty Morne has also prepared a suit of armor for you..."

There was armor too.

With the Mithril longsword as precedent, the armor King Morne rewarded him with was certainly no ordinary item either.

At this thought, the soreness throughout Roland's body seemed to ease by a few degrees.

Yet before he could fully digest this surprise, Gundar spoke again.

"After your body recovers, you may go to Mr. Colin to claim the armor yourself. In addition..."

As he spoke, this renowned Knight took a well-preserved parchment scroll from the leather pouch at his waist.

Under the sunlight, the scroll's surface glowed with a warm sheen.

"I thought for a long time..."

Gundar spread the parchment scroll open on the wooden table.

The heavy black armor produced faint metallic collisions with his movements.

"Although your current strength has already broken through mortal limits and stepped into the transcendent domain..."

At this point, he paused, approval entering his gaze.

"To be honest, when I was your age, my strength was probably inferior to yours."

Roland was not surprised that Gundar had seen through his strength.

After the fierce battle just now, it was perfectly normal for a transcendent Knight to accurately judge his level.

So he was not distracted by the other man's words. His gaze remained fixed on the parchment scroll opening before him.

Seeing that Roland showed no pride in response to his praise, appreciation flashed through Gundar's eyes, and he continued.

"But the vast majority of Combat Techniques I possess are currently beyond your ability to control... or rather, even if you forced yourself to learn them, their effects would be greatly reduced."

Gundar's fingers brushed over the edge of the scroll.

"As for the remaining ones, they would offer limited improvement to your strength. So..."

When the scroll fully opened, Roland saw three bold, flowing words written across it.

Crescent Moon Draw.

"After careful consideration, I decided to teach you this Combat Technique called [Crescent Moon Draw]. As for its effect..."

Gundar turned his head slightly and looked meaningfully at Roland.

"I believe you personally experienced it in the battle just now."

He had already experienced it?

Hearing this, Roland frowned and recalled the fight.

During the exchange just now, Gundar had remained on the defensive throughout and had used only the most basic sword techniques.

So Roland quickly locked onto the target.

It was the instant when the [Cleave] he had used under the enhancement of [Fighting Spirit] was about to strike Gundar.

That mysterious force had pulled the weapon in his hand and ultimately caused him to fall short at the final moment.

At this thought, the scene from then became increasingly clear in Roland's mind.

The exquisite rotation of the wrist. The whirlpool-like airflow pulling at the blades.

He was absolutely certain that the strength Gundar had used when executing [Crescent Moon Draw] had not increased. It had even been slightly less than the strength he had used when blocking attacks.

This meant that if Roland could master this Combat Technique, then even when facing a powerful enemy whose strength far surpassed his, he would have an opening to counterattack.

And...

"The root cause of why I was flung away at the time was not entirely the vortex itself..."

"It was that the weapon touched the vortex, causing my body to lose balance. In the end, I was thrown away by the backlash of my own [Cleave]."

"If [Crescent Moon Draw] can produce this kind of effect, doesn't that mean... redirecting a great force with a small one?"

Seeing the look of understanding on Roland's face, Gundar chuckled and pushed the unfolded parchment scroll before him.

"Looks like you have already figured it out. This Combat Technique called [Crescent Moon Draw] was something I created during my years serving at the border to deal with physically powerful Orcs. Its effect was unexpectedly good."

Reminiscence entered Gundar's eyes.

"At that time, I had not yet fully mastered a knight breathing method, so this Combat Technique is just right for you..."

Had not yet fully mastered a knight breathing method...

In order to deal with enemies, he created a Combat Technique on his own, and its effect was unexpectedly good...

After hearing those few sentences, Roland's expression as he looked at Gundar became somewhat strange.

If he had not known the other man's identity, he would have thought this Knight was deliberately showing off.

"All right..."

Noticing the look in Roland's eyes, Gundar coughed lightly, then gently patted Roland's shoulder.

"With your talent, I imagine you should not need much explanation from me. Study it on your own. But before that, there is one more thing..."

"Please speak, Lord Gundar."

Although Roland was impatient to learn the Combat Technique [Crescent Moon Draw], he still forced himself to move his gaze away from the scroll.

However, the other man's next words made him freeze slightly.

"Roland, are you interested... in serving in the Border Legion?"

Border Legion?

This term was not unfamiliar to Roland.

His friend John, who served as a guard at the estate, had once served in the Border Legion.

The two often chatted, and because of that, Roland had learned quite a bit about it.

Because the Golden Valley Kingdom was surrounded by enemies on three sides, it had established three great border legions to garrison the borders.

Although life at the border was harsh and involved daily slaughter, countless people still flocked there to serve.

There were even noble children among them.

The reason was simple.

Military merit.

This was the most direct, effective, and indisputable path to promotion in noble rank within the Golden Valley Kingdom.

Blackwater Territory itself was a fief Baron Forsling had gained through military merit.

Without that, with his status as a fallen noble, even a remote, barren place like Blackwater Territory would never have been something he could touch.

However, going to serve at the border was not without barriers.

At the very least, for a commoner like Roland, joining a legion required a specific channel of recommendation, as well as a long series of procedures such as trial training and selection.

And some parts of this process, as John had personally warned him, had long since been infiltrated by noble factions until they were full of holes.

Soldiers of commoner birth, even if they were quite strong, were often deliberately made things difficult for during trial training, or assigned to the most dangerous front lines as cannon fodder.

Even merit was easily claimed or shared by noble children with backgrounds.

John himself had nearly died because of this during a reconnaissance mission that should have been handled by a noble's son.

All because he had offended the son of a minor noble.

It was precisely these tangled, blatant injustices that had made Roland, after learning this information from John, not immediately treat the Border Legion as a path to obtain a knight breathing method.

But from Gundar's meaning, he seemed able to skip these complicated steps and directly enter the Border Legion to serve.

Perhaps even with no low status.

This was undoubtedly good news.

While joy rose in his heart, Roland rubbed his jaw, his brows tightening.

In the Golden Valley Kingdom, obtaining a noble title meant obtaining the qualification to cultivate a knight breathing method.

And that was precisely what he desired most urgently at the moment.

But this road of advancement was far from as smooth as it appeared on the surface.

Take Baron Forsling as an example. He had served at the border for more than ten years before earning the rank of baron, and that was still under the residual advantage of his noble bloodline.

For more people, such as John, who had served at the same time as Forsling, they were now still only estate guards.

Roland knew that with his current strength, plus Gundar's support, the speed at which he accumulated military merit would certainly far surpass Forsling. But how long would it take?

Eight years?

Five years?

Even if it only took three years, he could not afford to wait.

All his experiences since transmigrating surged through his mind, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Mana elements are quietly recovering now, and monsters have already shown signs of rising. Even if I can be granted a title and enter Knight Academy within three years, cultivating a breathing method will also require a long time."

"How much time will it take to truly become a transcendent professional?"

This was not Roland thinking wildly.

Although the information he had obtained was not comprehensive, after witnessing the might of a transcendent professional Knight like Gundar, he was very certain.

Cultivating a knight breathing method was absolutely not simple.

Calculating it this way, from receiving a title to becoming a transcendent professional, even the shortest route would take five or even ten years.

By that time, with mana elements recovering now, what would the world have become?

"No need to answer immediately."

Gundar noticed the hesitation between Roland's brows and pressed a broad hand lightly on his shoulder.

Then the famous Knight took a badge flowing with silver radiance from his belt pouch and placed it on the wooden table.

Beneath the sunlight, the surface of the silver badge shaped like twin wings flowed with a cold sheen.

"After you think it through, bring this to the Royal Capital and find me."

Gundar's voice was as heavy as bedrock.

"Even if I am not in the Royal Capital, you only need to hand this badge to the officials at the recruitment office. They will naturally understand what to do."

After saying this, Gundar passed by Roland.

Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly spoke again.

"Right. Tonight, it would be best if you stayed here and recovered in peace. Do not go out casually."