"This is a crude blade technique that was taught to me by a wandering warrior-monk I encountered in my younger years. In the world of combat, it might be considered third-tier at best.
Don't underestimate it just because it's third-tier. Even among the lesser techniques, this one has its merits. Third-tier manuals are worthy enough to be stored in the libraries of the great military academies. Take it and study it carefully first—there are detailed stance diagrams inside as well. Try practicing according to the illustrations yourself first. If you're still determined to learn after reading through it, then come find me.
But whether you practice it or not, remember to return this manual to me."
Captain Garrett carefully handed the booklet to Napoleon.
"Excellent!"
Napoleon knew this must be Captain Garrett's most prized possession—something he'd kept locked away for years.
The fact that Garrett was entrusting it to him so readily didn't mean Napoleon would automatically master these blade techniques just by reading the manual.
Combat training was delicate work, requiring countless corrections of minute details. One couldn't simply learn such techniques casually from a book alone.
"Thank you, Uncle Garrett!"
Napoleon carefully accepted the manual.
Taking the Kaer Morhen blade manual with him, he went straight to his bedchamber, closed the door, lit a candle on its stand, and began examining the contents alone.
The Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques—though called "techniques," actually consisted of only three moves.
All three were offensive.
No defense, no evasion—only attack.
The first move: Howling Wind Strike.
The second move: Gale Force Slash.
The third move: Storm's Fury.
The movements were also quite simple—just three different blade trajectories, each producing different effects of power.
Napoleon glanced through them briefly and grasped the general concept. But while the moves appeared simple, their power depended entirely on proficiency, on strength and speed.
And strength and speed, in turn, required coordinated body mechanics and proper energy flow.
So these three blade techniques came with a complementary set of conditioning methods.
These methods—what they called "breathing techniques"—explained how to integrate breath control, thought, and spirit to bring out the most devastating potential of these blade techniques.
The breathing techniques were really about training one's respiratory rhythm and mental focus.
The physical moves trained the external aspects, while breathing techniques trained the internal coordination. When both worked in harmony, they achieved unity of breath, energy, and movement.
The Kaer Morhen breathing techniques had three levels, each without any special name—simply First Level, Second Level, and Third Level.
According to the manual, only when one mastered the breathing techniques and achieved proficiency in the external moves could these blade techniques be considered fully learned and brought to perfection.
Gently closing the small manual, Napoleon sat at his desk in long silence, repeatedly reviewing and memorizing every process and difficulty point related to these Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques in his mind, going over them again and again.
Then he silently thought to himself:
"Gold Finger."
Instantly, the interface of his Gold Finger enhancement system materialized before his eyes.
Within the blue-bordered frame were rows upon rows of small boxes.
In the first row, first column box, his current status was displayed:
'Napoleon—
Combat Skills:
Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques: Not Yet Learned.'
The display was quite simple—showing only the Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques he had just finished reading through.
"Indeed... indeed this is no hallucination!"
Napoleon's body suddenly went rigid.
Not from fear, but from excitement!
This world was far too dangerous.
Originally, he had planned to simply live as a pampered heir—enjoy a comfortable life and a comfortable death. But now he felt like he'd fallen into a nest of vipers, with venomous snakes potentially emerging from all around at any moment. One careless move and he might become a minor character in some legend of ghosts and monsters, dying beyond all hope of resurrection.
"But now, at least there's some hope... if this modifier truly works..."
Napoleon suppressed his excitement and elation, beginning to recall the functions of this cheat program he had originally coded.
This Gold Finger modifier had only one purpose: to modify all the combat skills mastered by the game's protagonist.
It could modify a combat skill's mastery level, directly changing it to advanced or peak mastery. The difference was that it couldn't modify proficiency points, couldn't change vitality levels, couldn't alter things like strength, speed, internal energy, and other miscellaneous attributes.
The only thing it could modify was the mastery level of combat skills already learned!
"I can see in the interface that the only thing available for modification is these Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques. So how do I actually start the modification process?"
Napoleon began exploring and experimenting.
Alone in his bedchamber, his hands unconsciously flipped through the small manual while his attention focused on the Gold Finger modifier in his mind.
He examined every part of the modifier from top to bottom repeatedly. Soon, he discovered a very small button at the very bottom of the modifier.
The button was labeled: Begin Modification.
"That's it."
Napoleon focused his intent, imagining a finger pressing firmly on this button.
Immediately, the entire Gold Finger modifier flashed once.
He suddenly felt he could freely control everything within the modifier.
This sensation was strange, but Napoleon didn't dwell on it long. Instead, he quickly focused his attention on the Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques.
The status after "Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques" showed "Not Yet Learned." The moment his attention concentrated on it, the status jumped instantly.
It changed to "Learned."
Napoleon's heart leaped with joy—this seemed promising! He continued focusing intently on the blade techniques.
Soon, the status jumped again, becoming "First Level."
Then "Second Level," "Third Level"...
"Success!" Napoleon was overjoyed—the modifier was indeed effective.
He was about to release his mental focus when suddenly the blade techniques jumped once more.
'Fourth Level!!'
The Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques had actually jumped to Fourth Level!
BOOM!!
The instant the blade techniques reached Fourth Level, Napoleon felt his mind exploding with sound.
His entire head felt like it was splitting apart, his body convulsed violently as if struck by lightning.
Collapsing onto the desk, he spent a long time catching his breath before he could barely lift his head with great difficulty.
Something wet and fishy trickled beneath his nose.
Napoleon gently touched it and looked—it was dark red blood.
He felt his vision swimming, his entire body aching without exception. He was weak and powerless all over, even standing up felt exhausting.
He raised his hand to look—the skin on the back was deathly pale, and his eyes could barely stay open. He desperately wanted to sleep.
"This is severe qi and blood depletion!" Though Napoleon had no medical training, he understood basic symptoms.
He knew his energy and vitality had been severely drained.
Sitting by the desk, he barely managed to support his body, put away the small manual, and collapsed onto his bed to rest.
"Petite!"
"Young Master? What do you need?"
Petite asked softly from outside the door.
"Go... prepare some venison stew for me. Add some bear fat and deer blood—the richest you can find."
Napoleon spoke with difficulty.
This was one advantage of being a wealthy young lord.
Common families couldn't afford such rich game and blood supplements even as medicine for emergencies, let alone consume them casually as health tonics like Napoleon.
Petite acknowledged and quickly ran to the kitchen to arrange the stew.
Napoleon lay alone on his bed, and after resting for a long while, still felt dizzy with blackened vision and weak limbs.
However, aside from these sensations, he was amazed to extend his hand and feel a familiar, practiced sensation flowing from his palm into his mind—as if he had been training in blade work for many years.
Those three moves of the Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques and the three levels of breathing techniques had somehow become thoroughly familiar in his heart.
Not only did he understand every hidden subtlety within these three moves, but he also clearly comprehended how the breathing techniques coordinated with the moves, the various methods of breath control, the different levels, and applications.
"It actually worked!?" Napoleon closed his eyes, his heart filled with wild joy.
The experiment had succeeded.
Though it seemed to consume his body's vitality and energy, gaining mastery of the Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques was more than worth it.
"But the manual clearly only had three levels. Where did this Fourth Level come from?"
This puzzled Napoleon.
Moreover, the Fourth Level of the Kaer Morhen techniques felt strangely familiar in his current memory.
As if... as if he had personally created it himself.
The underlying concepts and approaches contained within seemed beyond what people of this world could conceive, resembling more the integration of modern scientific and mechanical principles.
Though he had been a laid-off programmer on the verge of homelessness, he had at least studied engineering mechanics and human biomechanics in university.
Before he could think further, Petite had already brought the stew.
"I happened to be preparing a strengthening stew in the kitchen. This is rich venison broth with deer blood and bear fat—it restores vitality and strengthens the blood. Would you like some, Young Master?"
Petite asked quietly from outside the door.
"Bring it in."
Napoleon said softly.
Only then did Petite gently push open the door and enter. But as soon as she came in, she spotted the bloodstains on Napoleon's collar.
"You... You... Young Master, what happened to you!?" Petite cried out in alarm, nearly dropping the bowl of stew.
Napoleon smiled bitterly.
"I'm fine."
"How can you say you're fine! You're coughing up blood!"
Petite's face went completely pale with fright.
"I'm really fine..." Napoleon said helplessly.
Petite quickly came over and brought him the stew.
"Here, Young Master, drink some hot broth first."
Under her care, Napoleon consumed the entire bowl spoonful by spoonful.
His spirits lifted somewhat.
He began carefully reviewing all the miscellaneous information and experience about the Kaer Morhen Blade Techniques that had suddenly appeared in his mind.
Very strange—these things seemed to have existed in his brain from the very beginning. No matter how difficult any aspect was, he could easily understand it and felt his body could execute it simply as well.
If not for his current physical condition, he would have gone to the training grounds immediately to find a proper sword and practice extensively.
After he finished the stew, Petite quickly left to find the Bonaparte family's resident physician at the medicine room. She was still worried about Napoleon's condition.
The Bonaparte estate had its own dedicated physician—a thin elderly man with a goatee beard.
He arrived hastily with a large medicine chest slung over his back.
Sitting beside Napoleon's bed, he took his pulse, and his frowning brow relaxed.
"Nothing seriously wrong—just depleted qi and blood, with excessive mental fatigue. A few days of rest and recuperation will set things right."
He pulled out a sheet of paper and quickly wrote down a prescription for tonics.
"Take this to the pharmacy. Give it to the Young Master twice daily for ten days, and he should recover completely."
"Thank you, physician."
Napoleon's heart also relaxed—this matched his own assessment of the situation perfectly.
Soon Lord Marcus Bonaparte arrived as well.
"What happened?" He came accompanied by Napoleon's stepmother.
Napoleon's birth mother had died of illness when he was very young.
He had been raised from childhood by his stepmother.
Stepmother Margaret had a gentle temperament and was extremely kind to everyone, treating him no differently than her own children.
"I just overtaxed myself a bit while training combat techniques. It's nothing serious." Napoleon explained to each family member in turn.
He was the eldest son of the household, the future pillar who would inherit the family business. Naturally, anything happening to him would immediately draw concern.