Inside the cramped shack, Lynn practiced the White Crow Sword Technique over and over again.
The first layer of this sword art consisted of four segments, but there was no fixed order in which to train them.
However, since the chest, back, and waist–abdomen segments were more difficult, most people would usually start with either the arms or the legs.
Lynn, however, had no such choice to make.
After all, the White Crow Sword Technique he had analyzed was, for now, only a half-set of movements, those for the arms.
After running through them several times, dawn began to break outside. The orange morning sun slowly rose over the horizon.
Sunlight spilled through the gaps in the yet-unrepaired thatched roof, casting a warm golden-orange glow over him.
During a short pause in training, Lynn glanced down at himself. A translucent interface appeared before him.
The next moment, he froze.
Above the skill list, a new line of text had appeared
[Realm: White Crow Sword Technique – Arms (Incomplete) (1/50)]
Beads of crystalline sweat slid down his cheek. Lynn stared at the interface, surprise in his eyes.
That surprise quickly gave way to a smile.
Insight could only improve his understanding; to gain strength, he had to practice on his own.
Lynn had expected that, with only entry-level mastery of the White Crow Sword Technique, it would take him several days of training before he saw any results at all.
Without further Insight, reaching the half-layer's "perfection" stage would take at least a few months.
Yet here he was after only a few runs through the movements already with a single point of progress!
At this rate, he might only need a little over ten days to reach (50/50) the half-layer's completion!
Compared to the original version of the White Crow Sword Technique, this progress speed was nothing short of a complete transformation.
And if he factored in continued use of Insight, his growth rate would far exceed expectations.
It must be because the analyzed version is tailor-made for me, he thought.
If someone else tried to train it, they probably wouldn't get results like this.
With that, Lynn pushed the thought aside and resumed his sword practice.
The morning passed quickly.
With a heavy exhale, Lynn finally stopped.
His black hair was damp, his bare torso steamed with heat, and the ground beneath him was churned to mud.
Grrrr
His stomach rumbled loudly.
"I've hit my limit for today…" he murmured, wiping away sweat.
Just like in his previous life's fitness training, the White Crow Sword Technique had an optimal intensity limit, at least for someone who was still just an ordinary human like him.
Checking his interface again, the technique's progress had already climbed to (5/50).
Pleased, Lynn stepped over to the wooden bed and gave it an experimental lift.
It rose easily.
The bed wasn't particularly heavy, but before, he couldn't have lifted it this effortlessly.
Only five points of progress, and the change is already this obvious…
He set the bed back down and looked at his hands, feeling for the first time what it meant to have supernatural strength.
In his previous life, reaching this level through normal exercise would have taken a month or two.
Also, after replacing crystal energy with the higher-quality magic energy, the White Crow Sword Technique's strengthening effect seems to have improved a bit, too.
Once again, Lynn couldn't help but marvel at the power of his Insight talent.
With it, he had the confidence to face this lonely, unfamiliar world.
That evening
"Then I'll trouble you, Mrs. Carter. But you have to accept five silver wolves a month as payment. And any costs for food come from me, you mustn't pay out of your pocket… my appetite will be big in the coming days."
In Mrs. Carter's shack, Lynn spooned up fragrant porridge and repeated his point.
Although she had declined yesterday, the old woman had still brought him dinner at dusk.
Lynn had already eaten earlier, but fortunately, he hadn't expected his appetite to grow after training the White Crow Sword Technique, so now he was hungry again.
Her porridge came at just the right time.
Then he thought: since he didn't plan to cook for himself anyway, and buying black rye bread every day wasn't ideal, why not simply have Mrs. Carter make an extra portion for him each day?
Buying plain bread alone would cost about as much as paying her, and better food would be far more expensive.
For Mrs. Carter, making one more portion was hardly any trouble at all.
It was a win–win arrangement.
...
After dinner, Lynn made his way back to his shack.
The neighboring shack where Giggs and Leona lived was still locked tight, showing no sign of their return.
Earlier that afternoon, when he had gone to bathe in the Greenwater River and buy bread, Lynn had also taken a trip to the area where Ant lived.
After asking around, he found Ant's shack.
But it was just like the one belonging to Giggs and Leona: locked from the outside.
A nearby child told him they hadn't seen Ant since yesterday.
Lynn stood there for a moment, then returned to his shack.
Lighting the oil lamp, he began working on a crystal spell plate.
He still had three lesser magic stones left, but that didn't mean he could just live off what he had.
Since he had already pushed the White Crow Sword Technique to his daily limit, the rest of the day was best spent making more plates.
The next two days passed in an unusually routine manner.
Every morning at first light, Lynn would begin training the White Crow Sword Technique, stopping only at noon when he reached his limit.
Then he would wash up, eat the meal Mrs. Carter had prepared, and spend the afternoon making crystal spell plates.
Between sword drills and crafting, he would occasionally glance outside, watching for any sign of Giggs and the others.
But there was never any result.
The three youths who had descended the mountain with him seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.
Three days later, close to noon
Outside his shack, wearing nothing but shorts, Lynn scooped a ladle of water from a wooden bucket and slowly poured it over his head.
The cold water ran down his skin, carrying away both the stickiness of sweat and the fatigue built up from a morning of sword practice.
He stood quietly, savoring the moment.
Even without trying, his posture was as straight as a drawn blade.
Compared to a few days ago, the change was subtle, yet there was now a hint of the lean, honed look of someone accustomed to regular training.
Lynn extended his hand and looked down at it.
Golden motes of light surfaced and instantly gathered into a translucent panel.
[Name: Lynn Kent]
[Age: 16]
[Realm: White Crow Sword Technique – Arms (Incomplete) (21/50)]
[Skills: Mind Shock Crystal Spell Plate Crafting (Proficient); White Crow Sword Technique – Incomplete (Initiate)]
[Source Energy: 0.09 (Self); 0 (World)]
My source energy will soon be at its limit again… I'll be able to use Insight once more.
Curling his fingers into a fist, feeling the strength in his arms, Lynn's lips curved upward.
This feeling of growing stronger, step by step… It's addictive.
After drying himself off and changing into fresh clothes, he headed toward Mrs. Carter's home.
It was lunchtime.
But when he reached her door, it was still locked from the outside.
Still cleaning? Lynn thought.
The past two days, Mrs. Carter had been working on White Spring Street, cleaning for several households. It was busy work, and sometimes she came back late for lunch.
Yesterday she'd been half an hour late, hurrying in and apologizing.
She should be back soon, he thought.
The old woman was stubborn. Lynn had told her that if she was too busy, she could just make breakfast and dinner, and he could get by on bread at midday.
After all, in the shanty district, most people only ate two meals a day.
But Mrs. Carter insisted on preparing all three, so he let her have her way.
Given that, unless something unusual had happened, she should return before long.
Not thinking too much of it, Lynn went back to his shack and resumed work on a Mind Shock plate.
He quickly became absorbed, and when he finally looked up, the sunlight outside was already slanting.
It's been at least an hour or two…
Setting down his carving knife, a faint heaviness settled in his chest.
Frowning, he picked up his short sword, hesitated for a moment, then headed toward White Spring Street.
He was going to take a look.