Yearning (1)

In the afternoon, the training room was muggy and silent.

Matthew was shirtless. Sweat snaked down the grooves of his back muscles, soaking into his coarse trousers tied at his waist and spreading into a dark stain.

He held a wooden sword tightly in both hands, the blade pointing diagonally toward the ground. His chest heaved violently with heavy breaths, each inhalation bringing a burning sensation of pain.

The cast-iron dummy stood quietly in front of him, its chest covered in more than a dozen shocking dents.

Each mark was smooth and sunken, the metal around the edges displaying a strange texture of being melted by high heat and then resolidifying, looking completely out of place against the surrounding rough cast surface.

The latest sword mark was particularly deep, nearly piercing through the thin sheet of iron.

“Heh—hah!”

A low grunt erupted from between his clenched teeth as Matthew stepped forward again. Twisting his waist, he gathered his entire body's strength and surging life energy into a wild torrent. It rose from the soles of his feet, surged through his lower back into his arms, and finally poured entirely into the wooden sword.

Buzz!

A blinding white light instantly erupted from the surface of the wooden sword, compressing the air into a sharp crack. The blade did not simply slash down; instead, it seemed to “smash” or “melt” into the iron dummy's chest—

“Thud!!!”

A dull, heavy boom exploded, far deeper and more resonant than any before, sounding like a massive hammer striking a solid anvil.

【Melting Slash: Proficiency +1】

【Melting Slash: Proficiency +1】

【.............................】

Phew—

As the familiar black text faded line by line from his vision, Matthew let out a long breath of stale air trapped in his chest, as if exhaling all the strength and focus he had just built up.

Releasing his grip on the wooden sword, its sweat-soaked hilt clattering as it rolled onto the stone floor, he dragged his leaden legs and staggered back to the worn wooden bench by the wall, practically collapsing onto it.

His back pressed hard against the cold, rough stone wall. He closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently as he greedily gulped in air.

Sweat poured down like small streams from his temples, neck, and back, spreading large, dark, wet patches across his linen training clothes, and a small puddle quickly formed on the stone slab beneath his feet.

After resting for a moment, he reached down to grab the leather waterskin resting by the bench leg, pulled out the stopper, and tilted his head back to drink.

The cool liquid washed down his parched throat, bringing a refreshing sensation that was almost sharp enough to sting.

He gulped down the water greedily, his Adam's apple bobbing rapidly. It was only after draining nearly half the skin that he let out a satisfied sigh and wiped the water from his lips with the back of his hand.

If anyone else were present right now and took a close sniff, they would notice something unusual. Although Matthew was drenched in sweat and panting like an ox, there was none of the sour, rank body odor that usually accompanied intense physical exertion.

Instead, a very faint, refreshing herbal scent emanated from his soaked clothing and radiating body heat, drifting in thin wisps and quietly filling the muggy air of the training room.

And this scent was precisely the trace left behind by his seventh consecutive day of taking medicinal baths.

A warm sensation from the medicinal fluid still seemed to linger on his skin, and even his breath carried a slightly bitter aroma of wild roots and unknown herbs.

He nodded inwardly. “You really get what you pay for! Although this medicinal bath has a unique scent, its fragrance is rich and penetrates deep into the muscles, lingering for a long time. It certainly is effective.”

More importantly, in just seven short days, he could already clearly perceive the changes.

After all, he could channel his Spirit to perform inner vision, allowing him to witness the life energy surging and flowing through his pathways. Compared to before, its smoothness and vitality had improved by more than just a notch.

As he marveled at this, his mind drifted back over his life during the past month.

For over a month now, Matthew's days had been tightly packed and highly disciplined.

Every day, he would rise before dawn. First, he spent half an hour running his breathing technique. Once his life energy was active, he would consume a set amount of sliced prime magical beast meat—an indispensable supply for his push toward the Silver Rank.

Then, he would walk through the gradually awakening streets toward the Grey Rock Training Ground on the west side of the outer city. In that simple stone room, he would repeatedly hone his 【Melting Slash】 against the cast-iron dummy.

With every rise and fall of his wooden sword, the dents on the iron dummy's chest grew deeper, the edges of the marks appearing as smooth as if they had melted. Meanwhile, the proficiency numbers on his status panel steadily and solidly increased.

Aside from his martial training, his other major priority was magic.

He had not forgotten about getting a staff.

Matthew had kept an eye on the county seat's auctions and high-end trading channels, but he quickly discovered that the so-called "magic items" circulating there were in a rather awkward position.

On one hand, the price barrier was extremely high.

These items were rarely priced in ordinary gold or silver. Instead, they required "noble points" or similar credentials of status for exchange. This directly excluded Class holders like him, who lacked a noble background and relied entirely on their own savings.

Even on the rare occasions when an item could be bid on with gold coins, the starting price was far beyond what he could afford. After all, he had to budget every single gold coin carefully, prioritizing his daily necessities like prime magical beast meat, training ground rent, and basic living expenses.

On the other hand, the quality was generally abysmal.

Even putting the price aside, when examined with his gradually awakening eyes of an "aspiring wizard," most of those items were purely superficial: amulets engraved with crude runes actually contained a minuscule amount of energy; crystals claimed to guide the elements had chaotic internal structures and were highly inefficient; and certain scrolls or potions were made with slapdash materials, crafted crudely, or were outright fabrications!

Yet, ironically, such goods were often highly sought after at auctions, eagerly bought up and hoarded by numerous nobles and wealthy merchants, who happily swallowed it all up.

Consequently, Matthew quickly lost interest in these channels.

He had a faint suspicion that truly valuable magical knowledge, artifacts, or materials would probably not easily appear in these public venues meant for secular elites.

At least, not at these public auctions. Private gatherings, however, might offer a sliver of a chance.

Therefore, rather than wasting time and money on these flashy but useless items, it was better to wait until his strength grew further, allowing him to search the royal capital or even regions outside the Kingdom of Cher.

As for a place to practice his spells, after searching several times, he had finally found a secluded valley southwest of the city. It was far from the main road, surrounded only by wild grass and jagged rocks, a place where even hunters rarely set foot.

Every two days, he would slip out of the city at dusk and practice 【Energy Missile】 and 【Fireball spell】 deep within the valley.

Greyish-white light orbs sliced through the air, crashing against the rock walls and exploding with sharp echoes, startling a few nocturnal birds. Aside from that, no one else knew of his secret training.