The early morning sun illuminated the entire castle, revealing its massive silhouette in the light. Compared to castles belonging to knights of the same rank, this one was quite large—it had been built over a decade by the first Baron Bennett, the founder of the Bennett lineage.
However, due to the incompetence of some heirs in subsequent generations, the Bennett family had lost their baronial title, retaining only the rank of knight. Whenever Knight Bennett spoke of this, he would be filled with bitter frustration.
Knight Bennett's greatest regret was his failure to earn enough military merit to reclaim the title. During the wars against the orcs, though he had fought bravely and tenaciously, he had still not accumulated sufficient merit to exchange for a noble rank.
For this reason, Knight Bennett devoted immense care to his children's education—especially his eldest son, Zach. If Zach could become a full-fledged knight before the age of thirty, the inheritance of the castle would be secured. After that, it would depend on Zach's own efforts whether he could elevate the family's rank once more.
Knight Bennett had far fewer expectations for his younger son. Originally, he had planned to hire someone to teach Abel arithmetic when he was older, then find him a decent job in town. But Abel had chosen the path of a knight—a decision that filled Knight Bennett with unease. Abel's chosen road would be far harder than Zach's: without his own castle, warhorse, or armor, Abel would likely become a wandering knight, a profession not recognized by the nobility. He would have to risk his life to earn money for a warhorse and armor, and it would be a stroke of luck if he could settle down before the age of forty. Worse still, most wandering knights perished along the way.
"You've advanced?"
On the training ground, Knight Bennett looked astonished. His second son, Abel, had actually succeeded in advancing to Level 1 Apprentice Knight after only two months of training. Knight Bennett himself had taken four months to reach that level, and his eldest son, Zach, had needed four and a half months. Yet his younger son—whom he had paid the least attention to, and who had received no special resources—had advanced in just two months.
"Yes, Father. I succeeded last night," Abel replied.
Zach stepped forward, lifted Abel into his arms, and spun him around in the air, laughing loudly. "My dearest brother, you're a genius!"
Only when Abel struggled did Zach set him down. He patted Abel firmly on the shoulder, his voice brimming with conviction: "You are a genius."
Knight Bennett stood aside, shaking his head slightly—his expression a mix of pride and sorrow. He sighed and murmured, "What a pity… what a pity."
If Abel had been his eldest son, or if the knight's fief had generated more income, he would have spared no effort to train Abel. But as things stood, it was already a struggle to ensure Zach received all the resources he needed. Supporting Abel as well was simply impossible.
Though Abel still couldn't use the Town Portal Scrolls, the Horadric Cube he had discovered yesterday was no ordinary item—it was an artifact. Since waking up that morning, Abel had been racking his brain to recall the Horadric Cube's recipes. He knew only a few usable ones right now, so he planned to visit town to see if there was anything that might help him.
"Father, I'd like to go to Libao Town today," Abel said, making his request directly without hesitation. This was a trait of knightly families: matters were discussed openly, with no need for roundabout words. What had once felt awkward to Abel now felt completely natural.
"Very well. You've just advanced—you can skip training today. A trip to town to relax will do you good," Knight Bennett agreed.
"I'll get your horse ready!" Zach chimed in. He ran to the stable, fetched a workhorse, strapped on the saddle, helped Abel mount, and secretly slipped him a gold coin.
Knight Bennett watched everything in silence, but the relief on his face was evident. Countless noble families were torn apart by sibling strife—making this bond between Zach and Abel all the more precious.
Among horses, only warhorses were distinguished by name; all others were referred to as "workhorses." Warhorses were fed special oats and soybeans, costing 10 gold coins in feed each month. Without this specialized diet, a warhorse would quickly lose weight, lose its speed, and become no better than a ordinary workhorse.
The workhorse Abel rode was a two-year-old colt. Though it was labeled a workhorse, it was sired by one of the family's warhorses—it had simply been unable to receive the proper feed to become a warhorse itself.
As Abel rode, he was followed by Norman, a squire clad in leather armor with a longsword slung over his back. Norman did not ride a horse; he ran alongside the workhorse. Fortunately, the colt was young and workhorses were slow by nature, so Norman had no trouble keeping up.
Norman was a veteran soldier Knight Bennett had brought back from the battlefield. After returning from war, he had stayed with Knight Bennett, and his entire family had settled in Bennett Castle. This was how nobles often treated their squires: it fostered gratitude and ensured unwavering loyalty.
Norman was an exceptional swordsman. Thanks to the warrior's secret techniques Knight Bennett had shared with him, he had become a Level 6 Warrior. Though he had no special combat skills, his masterful swordsmanship made him extremely formidable. For this reason, Knight Bennett always felt at ease letting Norman accompany Abel when he went out.
"Milord, halt!"
Norman had already drawn his sword, gripping it tightly as his eyes fixed on the forest beside the road. They were halfway between the castle and Libao Town—half an hour's journey from either. If trouble arose here, there would be no way to call for help from either side.
Abel reined in the workhorse, drew the fine iron dagger Zach had given him from his waist, and whispered, "What did you find?"
From his position on the horse, Abel was taller than Norman, but he saw nothing unusual. Just as he wondered what was wrong, a roar echoed out, and a dark shape darted from the forest. Now Abel saw it clearly—it was a Shadow Panther.
The Shadow Panther was incredibly fast. In just a few strides, it reached the workhorse and lunged for its neck. But the workhorse, though ordinary, was descended from a warhorse. In that moment of crisis, it reared up with a whinny and jumped back, narrowly avoiding the fatal bite.
Norman charged forward, swinging his longsword with a sharp hiss through the air, aiming for the panther. Shadow Panthers were no ordinary beasts—they rarely emerged during the day, let alone on open roads. They preferred to lie in ambush, waiting for prey to pass before snapping its neck. The fact that this one had rushed out of the forest must have meant it was desperate with hunger.
The Shadow Panther was far too quick. It dodged every strike Norman launched, yet its own attacks were ineffective—Norman, a seasoned warrior, always managed to block them with his sword.
Abel dismounted and slowly approached the fray. The Shadow Panther paid no attention to this small human; experience told it that once it defeated the swordsman before it, it would have plenty of food.
Abel did not rush into the fight. Instead, he circled around the battlefield, waiting for an opening. Charging in now would only hinder Norman, and to the Shadow Panther, this small, weak human posed no threat—even at full strength, Abel could not pierce its thick pelt.
Then came the first real clash between Norman and the panther. Norman's sword struck the panther's back—he had aimed for its neck, but the panther had twisted its body at the last second, avoiding a fatal wound. The panther lashed out with its tail, hitting Norman's leg. A look of pain crossed Norman's face, and his retreating steps faltered as his injured leg gave way.
In that instant, Abel took a deep breath. A surge of power rushed from his qi meridian—a technique used by Apprentice Knights to temporarily overdraw their physical strength, allowing for only one powerful strike. A massive amount of qi in his meridian was converted into strength in an instant; a second strike would shatter the meridian beyond repair.
In the blink of an eye, the Shadow Panther—having just been struck by the sword and lashed out with its tail—paused momentarily in mid-air. This was the opening Abel had been waiting for. He pushed off the ground and lunged forward. The panther saw him coming, but the earlier wound, though not fatal, had slowed it down. Abel thrust the dagger toward the panther's hindquarters and drove it in.
"Roar!" The Shadow Panther let out a shrill howl. Abel immediately released the dagger and jumped back, just as the panther's black tail swished past his face.
Norman, limping from his injury, pulled Abel behind him. By now, the Shadow Panther was thrashing on the ground, its cries growing weaker until it finally lay still.
Abel was about to step forward to check when Norman grabbed his arm. "Be careful," he warned. He pulled off his sword sheath and threw it at the panther. Just as the sheath was about to hit, the panther suddenly lashed out with its claws, scratching the sheath before falling silent for good.
Norman picked up the sheath from the ground, examined the claw marks, and said to Abel, "Milord, many beasts will launch one final attack before dying."
Next, he lifted the Shadow Panther's corpse, inspected the wound on its hindquarters, and pulled out the dagger. Smiling, he said, "You killed it, Milord. What do you want to do with it?"
"Let's take it to town and sell it," Abel replied.
He then looked at Norman's leg and added, "You ride the horse now—we'll put the panther on it too."
Norman did not refuse. To him, his life belonged to the Bennett family. His injury wouldn't stop them from continuing their journey, and riding the horse was the most practical solution.