Translator: CinderTL
Ever since receiving the gift from Oghma, God of Truth, and gaining the ability to glimpse into others' pasts, Theresa hadn't felt confused in a long time.
But now, she was plunged into deep bewilderment.
If her inability to see Roland's past last time could be attributed to coincidence or his own unique circumstances, then this time...
Theresa narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on the figures of Avril and Galvis behind them.
Like Roland, they were shrouded in a mist, and a similar, indescribable power, akin to the might of a God, permeated the air.
Unlike Roland's dense, impenetrable fog, the mist behind the two was slightly thinner, allowing her to catch glimpses of fragmented images.
"Galvis Starbringer, half-elf, disciple of Vesna, a bard who has traveled the continent for many years..."
Sensing Theresa's gaze, Galvis slowly raised his hand and waved in a friendly gesture.
Theresa inclined her head in acknowledgment, then turned her sharp gaze to Avril.
"Avril Morningstar, of noble elven blood, a valkyrie of the Silver Moon Guard?"
Upon grasping this information, Theresa turned to Roland beside her, confusion etched on her face.
If she hadn't misheard him earlier, Roland had introduced the elf girl as...
A pre-member of the Shadow Veil Organization in the River Domain Nations?
This...
Theresa felt a wave of absurdity wash over her.
And...
The silver-haired woman's brow furrowed deeper.
She withdrew her gaze from Avril's past and reexamined the elf girl's face.
The gentle, innocent features and radiant smile before her were utterly at odds with the cold, decisive silver-haired elf warrior she had glimpsed moments ago.
"What's wrong, Theresa?"
Roland noticed the silver-haired woman's daze and asked.
But in an instant, he understood what had happened and leaned close to her ear, whispering, "Theresa, it's best to avoid using that ability unless absolutely necessary. Everyone deserves a little privacy, don't you think?"
The warm breath against her ear jolted Theresa back to reality. Flustered, she nodded lightly. "You're right, Mr. Roland."
"Roland!"
Avril's voice cut through the air. Watching the youth and the silver-haired woman's somewhat intimate posture, a flicker of barely perceptible displeasure flashed in her eyes.
She deftly moved between them, tilting her head to ask, "Galvis said you went to a banquet? Did you bring back any treats for me?"
"No..."
Faced with the elf girl's casual warmth, Roland shook his head helplessly.
"But I can do it now, and..."
He glanced at the silent Theresa and let out a sigh of relief.
"Now that we're all here, it's the perfect time to discuss the demonic beast extermination."
"Yay!"
Avril cheered.
Roland gestured for Theresa to sit comfortably without ceremony, then swiftly grabbed the bard by the back of his collar as he tried to slip away.
"Galvis, don't even think about running. Stay put."
Ignoring the bard's wry smile, Roland turned and entered the kitchen.
Moments later, the wooden table was laden with steaming, delicious dishes. Though not as lavish as the feast Trevor had prepared, the flavors were far superior.
All four present were experienced adventurers, so they quickly finalized their demonic beast extermination plan and drafted a detailed strategy.
Avril and Theresa were tasked with gathering intelligence through the Merchant Faction and the Adventurer's Guild to identify their target.
Galvis, meanwhile, was responsible for preparing the necessary supplies for their expedition.
After dinner, the courtyard, which had been lively just moments before, fell silent, leaving Roland alone.
He gently knocked on Bronson's door, described their upcoming operation, and then headed straight for the Knight Academy.
The training ground was deserted in the evening twilight.
Roland stood still, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with deep breaths.
He carefully attuned himself to the flow of "qi" within his body, sensing its rhythmic pulse. After a moment, he opened his eyes and stepped before a massive wooden stake that required two people to embrace.
His chest rose and fell rhythmically with deep breaths.
He carefully sensed the subtle rhythm of the "Qi Sensation" flowing within him, and only after a moment did he open his eyes and stand before a massive wooden training post that required two people to embrace.
This was a specially designed training tool, exceptionally hard and durable.
Gripping the iron sword used for training, the cold metal's touch invigorated his spirit.
"Let's first try maintaining the precise and demanding rhythm of the Knight's Breathing Technique while executing sword techniques..."
The thought flashed through his mind, and he began his first attempt.
However, as the longsword sliced through the air with a familiar downward chop, the nascent energy flow he had just begun to gather scattered instantly like a startled flock of birds, vanishing without a trace.
The coordination between his movements and breathing was incredibly clumsy.
Though his sword strike was fierce, it only produced a dull whooshing sound, indistinguishable from his usual sword practice.
"Hmph..."
Roland exhaled a turbid breath, his brow furrowed.
"Maintaining the breathing technique while fighting... it's clearly not as easy as it seems."
As his thoughts churned, he calmed his mind and body, assuming his stance once more.
This time, Roland focused his attention primarily on his breathing.
He inhaled deeply and slowly, attempting to guide the flow of energy toward his arms.
The longsword rose slowly, his movements deliberately slowed.
Just as the sword reached its highest point, he exhaled sharply and exerted force, desperately trying to maintain the rhythm of the "Qi Sensation."
But the rhythm faltered.
His excessive focus on breathing made his sword strike sluggish and stiff.
The blade's descent was clumsy, its power greatly diminished, as if hacking at tough leather in vain.
A slight ache ran through his arm from the uncoordinated movement.
"Damn it!"
Roland cursed under his breath, sweat slowly trickling down his forehead.
He felt a mental exhaustion as if his spirit were being torn apart.
He had to control both the external trajectory and timing of his sword strikes while simultaneously maintaining the internal, ethereal rhythm of the Qi Sensation.
The two were like untamed wild horses pulling in opposite directions.
Third time, fourth time...
The results remained the same.
Each attempt ended with the Qi Sensation dissipating, his movements distorting, or his strength draining away.
Sometimes he forgot his breathing rhythm the instant he swung his sword. Other times, he barely managed to keep up with his breathing, but couldn't integrate that faint power into his strikes. More often, he lost focus on one aspect while trying to maintain the other, resulting in weak, flaccid sword strikes and the Qi Sensation fading away.
The training ground was filled only with his heavy panting and the monotonous whoosh of his longsword cutting through the air.
Sweat soaked his clothes, clinging to his skin and bringing a slight chill, yet it couldn't extinguish the fire in his heart.
Roland could clearly feel that each training session made him more proficient in controlling the breathing technique.
Huuu...
After exhaling deeply, he stopped, leaning on his sword hilt to catch his breath. He recalled the details of his meditation practice with the breathing technique.
Resonance... Nature...
He closed his eyes, no longer consciously analyzing every detail of his sword moves or forcing the perfect guidance of his Qi Sensation.
Instead, he immersed his mind in the fundamental rhythm of the breathing technique itself.
That was the core pulse of the Knight's Breathing Technique.
Inhale: Imagine energy surging into your core like a tidal wave.
Exhale: Direct the energy to flow through your limbs and meridians with the precision of an arm commanding a finger.
He released his anxiety about failure, leaving only the pure intention of "maintenance."
When he raised his longsword again, his movements seemed slower and more deliberate.
He no longer pursued speed, but rather a perfect synchronization of inner and outer.
Inhale...
The longsword rose steadily above his head. The familiar sensation of a burning stream reappeared, faint yet persistent, flowing along the path of his intention.
Exhale...
Strength erupted instantly.
The longsword, now imbued with an unprecedented sense of weight, crashed down with brutal force, tearing through the air.
At the precise moment when the blade and his breathing rhythm reached an indescribable harmony...
Swoosh!
A dull, earth-shattering tearing sound suddenly erupted!
The longsword hadn't struck empty air. Instead, like a hot knife through butter, it sliced effortlessly through the center of the wooden post.
Roland remained in the follow-through of his swing, his chest heaving violently as he gasped for breath.
Then, he stared in disbelief at the scene before him.
The sturdy wooden post had been cleanly split in two.
The cut was astonishingly smooth, revealing the tight concentric rings of the wood's grain.
The two halves of the post shifted slightly, and with a resounding thud, they crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.
His arm throbbed with a numbing fatigue, and a profound weariness surged through his spirit.
But all of this was overwhelmed by the sheer shock of the impossible sight before him.
Roland lowered his gaze to the training longsword trembling slightly in his hand. After confirming that neither edge was sharpened, he looked back at the two severed halves on the ground. His eyes were filled with astonishment, and a flicker of...
an indescribable, burning realization.
Is this the true power of the Knight's Breathing Technique in combat?
(End of the Chapter)
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