For Ivan, if there was a friend in this world, it probably would only be Donnie.
He looked in the direction of the voice, and surely enough, it was the Donnie he knew.
But Donnie looked somewhat disheveled.
Watching for a few seconds, Ivan quickly turned and dodged behind a large barrel to the side, continuing to watch through the gap between the barrel and the wall.
“Ha-ha, using your clothes to polish boots is quite effective, here’s a tip for your service.”
“Alright, Lauren, feel free to use it, and if I complain even once, consider it a loss for me.”
The other party was a young noble, a couple of years younger than Donnie, who ungraciously accepted the tossed gold coin, grinning from ear to ear.
At that moment, another young noble spoke up, “My red antlers deer leather boots are dirty too, Donnie, come and clean them.” He was also holding a gold coin, flauntingly waving it around for a few times.
Donnie scampered over.
This scene elicited complex feelings from the guards following the nobles and the passersby nearby.
“It’s just earning money, nothing disgraceful about that.”
It seemed that Donnie was indeed short on funds recently, as Ivan commented cryptically to himself.
He decided not to interrupt and headed straight for the nearby alley, planning to cut through it.
Donnie was a man who cared a lot about face, and if he knew Ivan had seen this scene, they probably couldn’t even remain friends anymore.
Ivan took a detour, and a few minutes later, he returned to the main street and made his way home without trouble.
Later, Ivan went to another market and bought a small quantity of medicinal materials—red rock powder, icicle stone foam, and scorpion tail gum oil—all necessary for brewing the Ocean Blue Potion.
This was Beaman’s strategy, to purchase the ingredients separately.
Actually, Ivan wasn’t afraid that someone would deduce the potion recipe from the ingredients he bought; anyone who had tried potion-making knew the difficulty of it. Slight differences in the quantity of ingredients, handling techniques, and order could lead to vastly different outcomes.
He had discovered the recipe for the Ocean Blue Potion on his own, and currently, he only had a 20% success rate.
[Apothecary Skill: lv2 (190/200)]
[Knight Breathing Skill: lv1 (39/100)]
[Linguistics Skill: lv1 (12/100)]
Recently, experience points in the various disciplines had increased to varying degrees.
In Apothecary Skill, almost every successful brewing of an Ocean Blue Potion would add one experience point, steadily increasing, and reaching level 3 was just around the corner. With the aid of the Small Light of Wisdom to brush up, the success rate of his Ocean Blue Potion would inevitably increase.
As his strength improved and the blood energy in his body increased, his Breathing Method also improved significantly, with experience points rising by around twenty points.
He suspected that the Gushing Breath Method was of too low a level; otherwise, the increase would have been much greater.
In terms of Linguistics Skill, he hadn’t delved deeply into any language, so with little accumulated over a brief period, the experience points only increased step by step.
…
Two days later.
Ivan arrived at the Cassia Swordsmanship Hall.
He was rather late, and at this time, the martial arts arena was crowded.
Donnie noticed him approaching, his eyes lighting up, intending to come over to greet and catch up on other matters.
Someone else noticed Ivan too and stepped forward to block his path ahead of time.
“Junior Ivan, I apologize for underestimating you last time,” said the person who had blocked his way.
Ever since his defeat by Ivan in front of everyone, Henge had lost all face, and he had been trying to restore it. However, Ivan had been absent since then, making his days quite unbearable.
Today, he finally caught Ivan.
Ivan was well aware of his thoughts and responded indifferently, “It’s alright, after all, I won.”
Upon hearing this, Henge almost choked; don’t you know how to speak more diplomatically?
Henge took a deep breath and continued, “To show my respect for you, junior, I think it’s necessary to have another match. This time, I won’t underestimate you, and we’ll determine the winner fairly and squarely.”
Not far away, Donnie was shaking his head behind Henge, gesturing to Ivan not to agree.
Ivan, going with the flow, replied, “No need, we aren’t close, and I don’t require your respect.”
Seeing him offer no face, Henge immediately felt somewhat annoyed, “Ivan, it seems you have not learned how to respect your seniors. As your senior, it’s necessary for me to teach you what it means to respect strength, what it means to have hierarchy.”
“A match is inevitable?”
“You need to realize that the weak should learn humility.”
Henge was aggressively confronting Ivan, but Ivan had his own temper, some things he could not avoid or endure.
Ivan glanced at Donnie and then said, “Previously, you extorted a fair amount of silver coins from Donnie, adding up to three or four gold coins, I suppose.”
“And what about it?”
“If I win, you will return the money to Donnie.”
Being publicly exposed and shamed, Henge grew even angrier, gritting his teeth as he took up the challenge, “If you win, I’ll concede.” He changed his previous thoughts, definitely not considering a senior’s grace this time, prepared to deliver a profound lesson to the other party.
As for returning the money, that would only happen if the other party won, otherwise it would be a non-issue.
People inherently love a spectacle.
In the martial arts arena, other seniors gathered in twos and threes at the periphery, forming a circle. No one really believed Ivan could win against Henge, but since Henge was not well-liked, they were happy to see someone challenge him.
At the entrance to the inner hall, Instructor Quincy and the eldest sister, Mellie, appeared upon hearing the commotion.
“Miss Mellie, what do you think?”
“This Henge only knows how to cause trouble, likes to bully other juniors with his strength.”
Both were well aware of Henge’s shortcomings as a person, yet knew his strength was formidable; besting him would require the strength of a squire, something this student evidently lacked.
Under the gaze of all present, the two contenders stood sword in hand, silently gathering their strength.
“Ha!”
The two struck out with their swords in unison, their blades cutting towards the opponent like rushing water.
The two sharp swords collided, their edges equally matched.
After another exchange of blows, still evenly matched, the onlookers started to notice something; it seemed the little-known junior’s strength was not inferior to the senior’s, contrary to their expectations.
“Good.”
“Beat him~.”
As the bouts went on, the atmosphere grew more intense, and some couldn’t help but shout encouragement. Some saw Henge falling behind and started cheering for Ivan.
On the field, Ivan’s moves became more and more skilled, gradually pressing his opponent.
In a mere moment, Ivan’s Quillen Sword swept aside his opponent’s iron sword, and in the next second swiftly moved towards his opponent, stopping just half a foot from Henge’s neck.
In that moment, the entire martial arts arena fell into a wondrous silence.
After a pause, Henge murmured, “I lost.”
Only then did Ivan retract his hand, sheathing the Quillen Sword.
Various discussions buzzed around, turning chaotic once more; Henge gave Ivan a deep look, this time without underestimating him, no petty tricks. He lost merely because he wasn’t as skilled as the other, just as he had said, the weak must remain humble.
“Senior.”
He bowed to Ivan and turned to walk towards Donnie.
As Donnie watched with a nervous heart, Henge stuffed his wallet into Donnie’s hands.
By now, few were paying attention to him; more gazes were turning to Ivan, expressions varied—confusion, disbelief, envy, admiration.
[Knight Breathing Skill Experience Points +6]
[Knight Breathing Skill: lv1(45/100)]
A look of puzzlement flashed in Ivan’s eyes, why had the Breathing Skill experience points increased now?
“Brother Ivan, come with me, I have something to discuss.”
A figure of lively charm approached him and signaled him to step aside for a talk; it was Mellie, the eldest sister of the Cassia Swordsmanship Hall.
The two of them walked towards the inner hall one after the other, leaving a silhouette that invited speculation.
Some even thought to themselves, the two of them, one handsome and the other brilliant, matched each other remarkably well.
