The young red-haired boy shouted toward Geppeto, his face showing visible relief.
Geppeto hesitated for a moment.
However, his doubts were short-lived.
The teenager quickly recalled the bonds he shared with the red-haired young man and strode toward him briskly.
"Hey… *sigh* you're late again? Look at Sir Léon's annoyed expression—he might even mention it to the baron," the young man said, shaking his head in disapproval.
Geppeto slightly furrowed his brows.
It wasn't so much the future punishment from his father that worried him, but rather the fact that he was straining with all his might to remember the details about this former red-haired NPC.
Although the original Geppeto's memories had been partially erased, he retained a surprisingly clear recollection of certain people.
Proof of how important they had been to him—Dean noted that he remembered far more details about those who had truly mattered to the old Geppeto.
That was precisely why he had no memory at all of Darcy's mother.
He therefore strained to piece together these fragments, and little by little, the memories linked to the red-haired teenager fully resurfaced.
The young man's name was Tristan.
He was Geppeto's best friend and, like him, the son of a local baron. Unlike Geppeto, however, he would never inherit his father's title (or name): two older brothers stood ahead of him in the line of succession.
He was far too low in the order.
'So no political importance, no notable talent… but very close to my avatar,' he concluded inwardly.
In a word: a follower.
That was the simplest definition of the role Tristan currently played in Geppeto's life.
(Image)
While he pondered how best to use Tristan to better understand the current situation on the continent of Hyperbore, the young man continued chattering about various unimportant topics.
Unfortunately, this frivolous behaviour drew the gaze of the swordsman Léon.
The two teenagers suddenly felt as though they were being stared down by a primitive wild beast.
The old swordsman observed them briefly before looking away.
It was not hard to understand that this simple gesture was supernatural—and constituted a warning.
'Is that the "Intimidation" skill of the Knight class?' Geppeto wondered, a cold sweat running down his spine.
Tristan, who moments earlier had been unable to keep quiet, immediately adopted a grave expression and shut his mouth.
Léon then turned his attention to the weapons laid out nearby.
There were all sorts of equipment: two-handed swords, shields, daggers, sabres, great axes… and many other weapons unfamiliar to a man from a civilised era.
"Geppeto. Tristan. Carry this iron shield to the centre of the training ground."
Tristan's face fell the instant old Léon spoke. He forced an awkward smile and turned to his friend as the two of them approached the iron shield.
"We're screwed… Why does it have to be me? You're the one who arrived late and drew old Léon's attention…" he muttered under his breath.
Geppeto, however, did not react. He focused on adopting the most disciplined attitude possible.
Thanks to his knowledge of the game, he already knew that old Léon could perfectly hear Tristan's whispers.
And indeed, the swordsman let out a slight grunt in the redhead's direction, prompting him to hurriedly grab the iron shield.
Though reasonably sized, the shield was abnormally heavy.
Geppeto and Tristan exerted all their effort, yet only managed to lift it slightly.
Geppeto was perplexed.
Normally, his avatar was supposed to complete the tutorial exercises without difficulty.
Yet here he was, struggling to lift a simple iron shield.
'The city guards can handle it without issue… and Darcy even calls them trash… so why can't I?'
Unconsciously, he glanced toward his half-sister, a little further away on the training ground.
Unlike Geppeto and Tristan, she had already taken hold of her shield and was heading toward the centre of the training ground.
Watching this scene, Geppeto finally understood.
The problem wasn't the world.
It was him.
He was weak.
'I… I can't be weaker than my sister!' he screamed inwardly, drawing from deep within himself the strength needed to carry out the order.
Old Léon appeared slightly surprised. He briefly raised his eyebrows before disappointment quickly returned to his face.
Panting, Geppeto and Tristan finally reached the centre, where Darcy and the others stood.
The pairs of troublesome teenagers respectfully stepped aside, awaiting the swordsman's instructions.
However, Léon completely ignored Geppeto and Tristan. He addressed the group:
"You have been training for some time now. Today, I will test your strength. Those who believe they can shatter this shield with their bare hands, step forward."
Unlike Geppeto, old Léon casually picked up an iron shield and lifted it with one hand as though it were nothing more than a simple plastic bag.
Geppeto's expression changed slightly. He and Tristan had exhausted themselves just moving the shield.
It was clear how hard and sturdy that iron shield was. Anyone attempting to break it bare-handed would be in for serious trouble after such a reckless act.
Logically, then, old Léon was merely testing his students' courage.
'No, a knight should be able to do it easily,' he thought to himself, recalling his avatar's feats in the game.
"Sir, I would like to try."
Soon after, a sturdy teenager stood up and faced old Léon.
The swordsman nodded and replied: "Excellent. I like your boldness, my dear Wilfred."
(Image)
Seeing the burly young man, Tristan muttered: "It's that damn Wilfred again. Ever since he recently became Sir Léon's official disciple, he thinks he's above everyone else… tch."
Wilfred glanced toward Tristan, who also noticed the teenager's unusually large eyes.
Unlike his encounter with old Léon, the red-haired teenager showed not the slightest trace of fear.
He even planted himself in front of Geppeto, as if to say: if you touch me, he'll deal with you.
"Pathetic," he growled.
Wilfred stepped up to the shield. He took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and began gathering his strength.
A faint white glow appeared.
*Crack.*
Suddenly, Wilfred struck the iron shield. The blow was so fast that Geppeto would call it superhuman.
It was clear Wilfred had poured all his strength into that attack.
'He can already manifest his vital energy?!' Geppeto thought, beginning to understand Wilfred's arrogance.
Vital energy is the manifestation of a living being's vitality.
While the monstrous creatures of Hyperbore impress with their size and supernatural abilities, humans stand out through their knights and the mysterious beings who operate in the shadows of royalty.
They form the backbone of the noble army Geppeto had interacted with in the game.
The difference between a mortal and an aspiring knight lies in the control of the vital energy within their body.
A mortal does not know how to control their vital energy, but an aspiring knight does.
As for knights? They can manifest it.
Thus, Wilfred was already on the threshold of an aspiring knight and would become a knight sooner or later, despite his young age.
'Tristan really picks fights with dangerous people… should I stop hanging around him?' The idea was tempting, but quickly dismissed.
Tristan had been a long-time follower of Geppeto; rejecting him overnight would destroy all credibility in noble society.
The deafening noise from Wilfred's attack lingered for a long time.
Not only did the iron shield remain intact, but the powerful blow left barely a scratch.
Sir Léon shook his head and said calmly: "Wilfred, you relied more on brute force than technique. Remember, vital energy is a knight's most powerful weapon. Use your heart as the energy centre and your veins to guide the vital energy through methodical breathing. That is the supreme strength of a knight! The proper use of one's vital energy cultivation method!"
It was clear that Wilfred, too, was dissatisfied with himself. He bowed to Sir Léon before returning to his seat.
"Heh, Wilfred has talent, but it takes more than that to become a true knight."
Tristan mocked Wilfred's failure, before his attention was drawn to a beautiful commoner girl a little further away.
Geppeto, however, did not think the same way.
'Damn it, how could I have forgotten the Emrys family's vital energy cultivation method?!' he thought, barely stopping himself from slapping his forehead.
He could have avoided the iron shield humiliation, yet he had acted like an idiot in public.