Before, the coordination between Matthew's body, wrist, and sword tip was already extremely fluid, with only a tiny hint of friction.
Now, that slight hesitation was mostly erased.
The sword seemed more obedient.
Or perhaps, he understood the sword better.
Watching from the side, Aidan grew increasingly alarmed.
Although he didn't know about Matthew's panel or any talent bonuses, he was a Class holder and could see the changes in his movements.
Previously, when Matthew used a sword, it felt calm, precise, and ruthless.
Now, it was different.
Now, there was an added fluid grace.
Like water flowing over stones.
It wasn't lacking in power; rather, there were far fewer hitches.
Aidan couldn't help but whisper, “Brother Matthew's sword... why did it suddenly become so fluid?”
His voice was very soft.
Matthew did not answer.
Matthew was already fully immersed.
He swung the sword strike after strike.
Thrust.
Retract.
Sidestep.
Horizontal cut.
Step back.
Reverse thrust.
On the wooden dummy in the training ground, the sword marks gradually multiplied.
Each one was thin and deep.
Matthew's eyes grew brighter and brighter.
He rarely let his emotions show so clearly, but at this moment, his satisfaction was almost impossible to suppress.
A Purple-quality weapon.
This was what a Purple-quality weapon was.
It was incomparable to Blue-quality.
He was becoming more and more certain that the true value of the Blood-Veined Rapier lay not just in its sharpness during combat.
It allowed him to train faster.
Learn faster.
Comprehend faster.
His cheat was essentially not just about making equipment stronger.
Instead, the stronger the equipment, the more pronounced the talent enhancement he gained from it.
A Blue-quality weapon could already offer assistance.
But Purple-quality was entirely different.
If Blue-quality was a gentle push, then Purple-quality directly laid out a clearer path before his eyes.
He still had to walk it himself.
But at least, he knew where to place his feet.
This feeling was incredibly important.
An old saying surfaced in Matthew's mind once more: to find easily what was sought in vain.
He even felt like smiling.
Of course, he didn't actually smile.
Only the corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly.
But this was already enough to show that he was indeed in a very good mood.
If this sword didn't have side effects, if it hadn't been returned by someone else, and if it didn't carry the potential trouble of the Theater District and the vampire aura, how could such a good item ever fall into his hands?
The royal capital was indeed the royal capital.
The waters ran deep, and there was truly an abundance of good things.
The more Matthew practiced, the clearer his combat strategy became in his mind.
Energy Missile could handle long-range attacks.
The Blood-Veined Rapier could cover close combat.
If an enemy drew near, he didn't need to panic and immediately try to pull away.
He could first use the Blood-Veined Rapier to force them back.
If the opponent dodged, he could follow up with an Energy Missile.
If they charged head-on, the blade was sharp enough to make them pay a heavy price.
Furthermore, the rapier was light and handy, making it easier to use in cramped environments than a longsword.
This was an immense addition to his arsenal.
Matthew finally felt a sense of cohesion.
His combat system was starting to take shape.
Though it was still far from complete.
He lacked defense.
He lacked control.
He lacked concealment.
He lacked detection.
But at least, he was no longer limited to just Energy Missile and a common Blue-quality sword.
He had one more card in his hand.
A card that could truly play a decisive role at a critical moment.
However, just as he swung his sword repeatedly and his satisfaction deepened, an anomaly occurred.
At first, it was merely his palm growing slightly colder.
Matthew did not stop immediately.
He wanted to see just how far the side effects would go.
The chill on the hilt of the Blood-Veined Rapier gradually deepened.
It felt as though something icy was seeping through his palm into his skin.
The dark red runes within the blade lit up faintly.
It was extremely subtle, so subtle that Aidan, standing at a distance, might not have noticed it.
But Matthew felt it with absolute clarity.
That blood energy was rising.
He unleashed another strike.
The blade sliced into the shoulder of the wooden dummy.
The moment the wood was sliced cleanly open, a thought suddenly surfaced from the depths of his mind.
It was brief.
And faint.
Yet, it definitely did not belong to him.
“If what I cut wasn't wood...”
“But flesh and blood...”
“Would it feel even smoother?”
“Would it feel warmer?”
“Would it feel more alive?”
Matthew's movements instantly froze.
The tip of the sword stopped right in front of the wooden dummy, less than half an inch from the wood.
The training ground suddenly fell dead silent.
Aidan immediately sensed something was wrong.
“Brother Matthew?”
Matthew did not answer.
He closed his eyes and slowly directed his Spirit toward his palm.
The sensation remained very faint.
It wasn't a voice.
It wasn't a command.
Nor was it any distinct will.
It was more like an emotion.
A sense of hunger.
An impulse to keep swinging, to cut through something, to draw blood.
Matthew's heart turned cold.
The side effects certainly existed.
And they were highly insidious.
It wasn't the kind of curse that drove a person mad the moment they held the sword.
If it were, it would actually be simpler.
Because it would be obvious.
And being obvious made it easy to guard against.
The real trouble was that it hid shallowly and was incredibly slippery.
It first made you feel the weapon was a perfect fit.
It made you feel excited.
It made you feel like you had become stronger.
Then, as you swung the sword time and again, enjoying that fluid sensation, it would quietly slip the thought of “drawing blood” into your mind.
An ordinary Class holder might not detect it immediately.
They might only think their battle intent had grown stronger, their courage bolder, and their killing intent sharper.
They might even consider it a good thing.
But what about over time?
What if they got used to it day after day?
The moment one mistook the abnormal for normal was when the true danger began.
Matthew opened his eyes.
His gaze had returned to its usual calm.
His Spirit suppressed the blood energy in his palm, pushing it back into the blade bit by bit.
The Blood-Veined Rapier seemed to tremble almost imperceptibly.
Or perhaps it was just an illusion.
But the hunger was indeed slowly dissipating.
The dark red luster on the blade dimmed once more.
Aidan stood in the distance, his hand already resting on his own hilt, but he did not dare approach rashly.
“Brother Matthew, are you alright?”
“I'm fine.”
Matthew's voice was steady.
So steady it was as if nothing had happened just now.
But in his heart, he had already drawn a new line for this sword.
It was usable.
But it could not be used carelessly.
It could not be worn on his person for long periods.
He must not train with it when mentally fatigued.
He could not use it continuously for too long.
After each use, it was best to meditate to cleanse his mental state.
In actual combat, it could be used for short bursts of power.
Normally, it must be kept inside his storage ring.
And most importantly of all.
He must never let Aidan touch it.
Matthew turned to look at Aidan.
“Do not touch this sword in the future.”
Aidan was startled.
“Yes.”
Matthew's tone grew heavier.
“This is not a warning. It is an order.”
Aidan felt a chill in his heart and immediately stood at attention.
“I understand, Brother Matthew.”
Matthew stared at him, and only after confirming that the boy had taken it to heart did he withdraw his gaze.
He did not explain too much.
Aidan did not need to know the details of the blood energy, mental influence, or bloodthirsty impulse.
Knowing not to touch it was enough.
The risks of the Blood-Veined Rapier were controllable for Matthew because he had his panel, his Spirit, his storage ring, and plenty of vigilance.
But Aidan had none of these.
Aidan was only a Black Iron Rank Class holder.
If he were truly influenced by this sword, he probably wouldn't even know when the trouble had started.
Matthew would not risk Aidan's safety to test it.
Afterward, Matthew did not continue training at high intensity.
He only performed a few sets of the most basic thrusts and retractions, stopping once he confirmed the blood energy was no longer rising noticeably.
The Blood-Veined Rapier was placed back into the black long case.
When the lid closed, most of the icy aura was sealed away.
Dozens of new sword marks now marked the wooden dummy in the center of the training ground.
They were exceptionally thin and deep.
A few had even sliced half an inch into the dummy, their edges so neat they made Aidan's scalp tingle.
Aidan stepped closer, staring at the dummy, and couldn't help but swallow hard.
He could tell that Matthew had grown stronger.
It wasn't a breakthrough in realm.
Nor was it an improvement in his spells.
Rather, after gripping that sword, his overall control over the weapon had suddenly surged to a new level.
This left Aidan both shocked and filled with an indescribable sense of awe.
There were indeed many things about Brother Matthew that he could not comprehend.
He shouldn't ask.
And he wouldn't understand even if he did.
He only needed to remember one thing: be obedient, keep up, and don't drag him down.
After storing the Blood-Veined Rapier in his storage ring, Matthew stood with his eyes closed for a brief moment.
He was checking his own mental state.
Only after confirming that no trace of the bloodthirsty association remained and that his spiritual sea was still stable did he slowly exhale.
The results of this sword test were better than he had anticipated.
But they were also more dangerous than he had imagined.
On the bright side, the bonuses provided by the Purple-quality weapon were highly pronounced.
His Sword Comprehension, Weapon Perception, and Striking Coordination had all improved significantly.
As long as he persisted in practicing, his progress in swordsmanship would undoubtedly be much faster than before.
It wasn't reaching the heavens in a single bound, but it allowed for accelerated, continuous growth.
This was vital.
On the dangerous side, the blood energy indeed affected his mind.
It directed aggression and caused one to form inappropriate associations with blood, all in a highly covert manner.
It wasn't like a sudden blade thrusting into one's brain.
Rather, it slowly planted thoughts inside.
Matthew did not like this feeling.
But he did not regret purchasing this sword.
Not in the slightest.
Was the risk high?
Yes.
Was the return great?
Even greater.
As long as he could perceive the risk and keep it under control, this sword was worth using.
Discarding a Purple-quality weapon out of fear of its side effects would be truly foolish.
Matthew looked down at his palm.
A trace of coldness seemed to linger there.
Though the Blood-Veined Rapier was safely stored away in his storage ring, the sensation of sharpness interwoven with hunger remained in his memory.
He felt no fear.
Only a heightened state of clarity.
The first gift the royal capital had given him was neither clean, gentle, nor safe.
It carried the scent of blood, cast shadows, and held clues that might lead to trouble.
Yet, it was valuable enough.
For Matthew, that was sufficient.
“Let's go,” Matthew said.
Aidan nodded quickly.
“Yes.”
The two of them left the training ground.
As they walked up the stone steps, Aidan couldn't help but look back at the wooden dummies once more.
Under the dim light, those sword marks lay there silently.
Like some form of proof.
Proof that the scene from earlier was no illusion.
Proof that Matthew had indeed taken another step forward.
The inn manager was still waiting outside.
Upon seeing Matthew emerge, he immediately bowed his head.
“Lord Matthew, are you satisfied?”
Matthew nodded.
“Quite.”
A small smile appeared on the inn manager's face.
“I am glad to hear you are satisfied, Lord.”
He did not ask what kind of sword Matthew had tested, nor did he inquire if the commotion had been loud, and he certainly did not peer into the training ground.
This sense of propriety pleased Matthew even more.
The Fiery Lion family was indeed excellent at selecting its people.
They knew exactly when to ask questions and when to remain silent.
After returning to his room on the third floor, Matthew did not rest immediately.
He dismissed Aidan to the room next door.
“There is no need to guard the door tonight.”
Aidan hesitated slightly.
“Brother Matthew, that sword...”
“I will handle it.”
Aidan shut his mouth immediately.
“Yes.”
Once Aidan left, Matthew closed the door and routinely inspected the lock, windows, and corners of the room.
Only after confirming there were no anomalies did he sit down at the table.
He did not take out the Blood-Veined Rapier.
He had tested it enough for one night.
Matthew had no intention of touching it further.
He closed his eyes and began to meditate.
Not to increase his Spirit.
But to cleanse his mental state.
The meditation method slowly operated, his Spirit flowing along familiar trajectories. The slight lingering coldness from holding the sword was gradually washed away.
Matthew could feel that the influence of the Blood-Veined Rapier had indeed not fully taken root.
This put his mind at ease.
As long as he avoided prolonged use, the issue remained controllable.
However, he could not afford to be careless.
In the future, he would have to perform a similar cleansing after every use.
Time ticked away.
Outside, the night in the royal capital grew deeper, and the sounds of the streets gradually quieted. The distant clock tower chimed once more, its low toll echoing through the night sky, reaching the room as a muffled hum.
Matthew opened his eyes.
His mental state had completely stabilized.
He looked out the window.
Pale blue magic crystal lamps illuminated the streets, showing that the royal capital at night was still not entirely asleep.
The rumble of carriages sounded occasionally.
In the distance, laughter and music could be faintly heard.
This city was like an unsleeping beast.
Revealing its prosperity by day, and exposing its shadows by night.
And today, Matthew had merely scraped a tiny bit of its skin.
The Blood-Veined Rapier.
The Theater District.
The bloodthirsty monster.
The half-face mask motif.
The vampire aura.
These clues were still far from being unraveled.
But Matthew was in no hurry.
He had more important matters to attend to right now.
The wizard path remained his main focus.
He needed to continue absorbing magic stones.
He needed to keep searching for spell models.
And he had to keep practicing his swordsmanship.
Energy Missile would handle long-range offenses.
The Blood-Veined Rapier would cover his short-range deficiencies.
Once he acquired defensive, control, and concealment spells, his combat system would truly become respectable.
On his very first day in the royal capital, his gains had already been immense.
Immense enough to stir excitement, yet immense enough that he had to remain levelheaded.
Matthew raised his hand and gently shut the window, cutting off most of the city's nocturnal clamor.
Quiet returned to the room.
Matthew sat by the table, calmly staring at the one-handed sword in his possession, his thoughts complex.
At this moment, he had gained another card in his hand. With this card, once he adapted to it for a while, his combat strength would rise significantly once more.
But at the same time, this card came with a subtle risk.
After all, this sword could corrode one's will. Although Matthew's Will was high, there was no telling when an unexpected accident might occur, and that would make things difficult.
Yet in a place like the royal capital, having one more card meant one more chance to survive and climb higher.
And this tiny risk was exactly what he needed to bear.
And it was a risk Matthew was willing to take.
Rate on N.U.
