Linde was as if he had eyes on the back of his head. He easily dodged the attack coming from behind, then turned and swung his sword, striking the attacker squarely in the chest. If this had been a real blade, the sneak attacker would already be gravely wounded. Yet now, the attacker could still continue fighting, and two more people at his side were coordinating with him, jointly surrounding and attacking Linde.
An ordinary person facing such an encirclement would surely be flustered and overwhelmed, barely able to cope. But Linde looked completely at ease. His footwork was as light as a fawn darting through the forest, his movements as free as a butterfly flitting among flowers. He always managed to evade attacks just as they were about to land, and at the same time counterattack smoothly, the weapon in his hand striking vital points with uncanny precision.
If what he held were not two wooden swords, and if his attackers were wearing leather armor, these three assailants would have died dozens of times over by now.
Even so, some of Linde's counterattacks still slipped through the gaps in their leather armor, landing on unprotected spots and leaving them in intense pain.
"Stop—stop!" After Linde's wooden sword slipped through a gap in the leather armor and stabbed one of the attackers, that man finally couldn't endure the pain any longer. He staggered back two steps, waving his hands repeatedly. Then he took off his leather armor, lifted his shirt, and revealed patches of bruises all over his body. Panting, he said, "I'm done. If we keep training like this, the sparring fee my old man paid won't even be enough to cover my medical bills."
Seeing one person stop, the other two sparring partners—who were also at their limits—put down their wooden swords and shields as well, indicating that they were done too.
As the one in the middle of it all, Linde was breathing heavily, propping himself up with his wooden sword against the ground. He looked at the three sparring partners that Old Bane had carefully selected for him, his expression tinged with apology.
Half a month ago, Linde's injuries had completely healed. On Old Bane's side, however, there was still no news. Although they had found Smiling Will, Will had not given Old Bane a clear answer. He only told him to wait until the Red Lake City guard needed to expand their numbers.
Linde wasn't worried about this. From the information he'd gathered in the tavern, it wasn't hard to see that Red Lake City, Oak City, and Goldtree City were definitely preparing for some major action. When the time came, Red Lake City would surely mobilize its people. All he needed to do then was take up his weapons and head to the battlefield. He believed that with his strength, he would definitely achieve eye-catching results. Coupled with his current reputation as the Bear Hunter, as long as the people of the Klienn family weren't blind, they wouldn't miss out on a capable subordinate like him.
Perhaps he wouldn't even need to start from the very bottom as an ordinary guard—he might directly take on a higher position.
After setting aside the matter of joining the Red Lake City guard, Linde began to focus wholeheartedly on all kinds of training. Physical conditioning and foundational fitness were naturally the most important, but he didn't neglect sword training either. The only problem was that he had no opponent for real combat practice.
After watching one of Linde's sword training sessions, Old Bane felt that continuing to practice alone like this would be of little use. So from time to time, he helped Linde hire sparring partners for real combat training from the mercenaries traveling with merchant caravans.
At first, it was just one-on-one training. But it quickly became apparent that in single combat, Linde completely suppressed his opponents, leaving them with no room to fight back. Training like that had almost no effect.
Linde himself also felt that the dual-wielding swordsmanship he had mastered was simply too strong. If he were facing a knight who had undergone years of training, there might still be some value in it. But going one-on-one against an ordinary mercenary was absurdly easy for him.
So he took the initiative to suggest increasing the number of opponents. And after less than ten days of such combat training, he was already able to easily suppress the joint assault of three mercenaries. Judging by his current state, perhaps only when the number reached five would he truly feel some pressure.
Although the swordsmanship he displayed during these days of training was astonishing, he also exposed certain shortcomings in his stamina. High-intensity battles like the one just now could only be maintained for two or three minutes at most. After that, his physical strength would drop sharply, and his combat effectiveness would fall along with it. This flaw was not something that could be remedied in a short time—it required long-term training to change.
While handing out the prepared ointment for reducing bruises to the hired mercenaries, Old Bane analyzed the situation for Linde. "Ordinary mercenaries can no longer put any pressure on you. Even if you add a few more, it'll be the same. What you need is real combat—preferably fighting against real warriors. Only that will truly help improve your strength."
As he spoke, he paused, looked at Linde who was still catching his breath, and said, "You shouldn't keep looking for sparring partners for now. Focus more on stamina training instead—it'll be better for you."
After that, he walked over to Linde, grabbed his arm and squeezed it, then said, "You're too skinny right now. You need to put on some weight. During this period, I'll make more mushy meat and bean mash for you. That should help you bulk up a bit."
Hearing Old Bane's arrangements, Linde felt that they somewhat conflicted with his own training plan, but he didn't refuse. After all, his training plan also required a large amount of high-calorie food for support. Mushy meat and bean mash might not taste good, but it could provide the energy needed to sustain his training.
Moreover, Old Bane's suggestion wasn't without reason. Because he had absorbed the combat experience of the Parallel Walker, his training subconsciously followed the same direction. Agility, evasive movement, stealth, and concealment were the focus of his training. As a result, all his efforts were concentrated on speed, which made his body weight excessively light—especially since he had very little fat on him.
On a cold-weapon battlefield, fat could be considered the last layer of armor. A person with sufficient body fat, when attacked, had a high chance of only having the blow absorbed by the fat layer without damaging muscles or bones, allowing them to continue fighting. But with Linde's current physique, if he were struck solidly, without the protection of fat, the attack would directly affect his muscles and skeleton, likely injuring him and causing him to lose most of his combat capability.
Linde nodded and replied, "I understand! I'll adjust my training methods."
Seeing that Linde didn't argue and instead immediately agreed to adjust his training, Old Bane was somewhat surprised. In the past, Linde's personality had been extremely stubborn. Once he made up his mind about something, he would never change it. Even if Old Bane made suggestions, Linde would refute them with all sorts of arguments—just like his recent risky bear-hunting adventure.
"What's wrong? Is there a problem?" Linde noticed that Old Bane's expression seemed a bit strange. Realizing that he might have acted differently from his usual self, he asked casually.
"No, it's good. Very good," Old Bane smiled and gestured that it was nothing. Although Linde had changed somewhat, in his eyes, it was a good change.
Another half month passed in the blink of an eye. During this time, Linde focused entirely on bulking training. Whether it was due to the heavy training load or the effect of his golden finger, in any case, his height and weight both increased significantly during this period.
Originally, like most hunters in White Village, Linde was only around 1.7 meters tall. Now, however, he had grown to about 1.9 meters. Such height made him stand out like a crane among chickens in White Village. When entering Old Bane's tavern, he even had to lower his head. And as his weight increased, his frame grew larger and larger—seen from afar, he looked like a bear walking upright.
Because of this, various rumors soon began to circulate in White Village and among the merchant caravans passing through. Most of these rumors claimed that the reason Linde had undergone such drastic changes in such a short time was because when he killed the mountain bear, he also devoured its spirit essence, gaining the mountain bear's physique and body.
These kinds of rumors made people even more awed of Linde. Some White Village residents who had previously been on bad terms with him would instinctively keep their distance when they saw him, let alone dare to look him in the eye.
This reaction from the villagers made Linde feel increasingly uncomfortable staying in White Village. In truth, he didn't harbor much resentment or hatred over the villagers' attempt to take everything from him when he was on the brink of death. On one hand, he wasn't the original Linde and had no real emotional attachment to the people or things of White Village. On the other hand, he didn't think the villagers' actions were wrong. In such a poor environment, making use of every available resource was only human nature. If he were in their position, he would have done the same.
Because of this, during the period when he had just recovered, he had already considered improving his relationship with the villagers. That way, in the future, he could take advantage of White Village's population.
Without a doubt, if one wanted to develop their own power in such a backward world, fellow villagers were an extremely important population resource. What's more, most of the people in White Village were archers and also knew a bit of swordsmanship. With a little training, they could become decent warriors.
Linde had considered that if he could obtain some position in a noble's army in the future, recruiting manpower from White Village would allow his own forces to take shape quickly.
But now, the villagers' fear and unease toward him shattered these plans before they could even begin. He could clearly sense that even if he took the initiative to improve relations and explain that he bore no grudge, the villagers would likely not believe that he had truly let go of any resentment.
This change in thinking also led him, upon hearing the rumors that he had devoured the mountain bear's spirit essence and gained its power, not to stop or refute them. Instead, he would deliberately display abilities he hadn't shown before in front of the villagers, further reinforcing the credibility of these exaggerated tales. In doing so, he let the villagers themselves become loudspeakers spreading his legendary exploits—and the rumors they created soon began to take effect.
After completing his daily training as usual, Linde prepared to head to Old Bane's tavern to eat the weight-gain meals specially prepared for him. But when he reached the entrance, he was stopped by someone.
"So you're the Bear Hunter. You're much bigger than I imagined—very good, very good!" A well-dressed noble looked Linde up and down with an arrogant gaze, nodding as if he were inspecting a piece of merchandise.
Linde glanced at this young noble, who deliberately kept a thick beard to make himself look more mature. His eyes quickly swept over the golden crane emblem branded on the saddle of the fine horse at the tavern entrance, as well as the six soldiers following behind the noble. In his heart, he formed a rough guess about the man's identity.
Although he had more or less guessed who the visitor was, Linde didn't know the man's purpose. He could only vaguely sense a hint of hostility in the other's gaze.
Even so, Linde didn't show any unusual emotion. Instead, like a normal person faced with provocation, he took two steps back, placed his hand on the small hand axe at his waist, and asked the noble warily, "Who are you? I don't know you."
Seeing Linde's extremely discourteous reaction, the noble frowned slightly, but quickly returned to his arrogant expression. He was just about to signal the soldiers at his side to introduce his identity.
"You little bastard, what do you think you're doing!" At that moment, Old Bane suddenly rushed out of the tavern. He wanted to give Linde a hard smack on the back of the head, but limited by the height difference, he could only slap Linde heavily on the back. As he withdrew his hand, he discreetly squeezed Linde's arm, as if hinting at something, then bowed toward the young noble and said, "Lord Klo, please don't blame him. Ever since his injuries healed, he's become especially sensitive to everything around him, like a startled little rabbit. He didn't mean any offense toward you, my lord. If you don't believe me, you can ask anyone else in the village!"
"A little rabbit? This is one big rabbit," the young noble said, glaring slightly at Old Bane to signal him to shut up. Then he looked at Linde and said, "I am Sir Klo·Klienn of Red Lake City. I heard your legends in the tavern and grew quite curious, so I came to see what the Bear Hunter really looks like. You're a bit worse than I expected—but still acceptable."
Linde didn't speak, merely looking at him calmly.
Seeing that Linde gave him no response at all, Sir Klo felt insulted. His expression darkened further. Then, as if he had thought of something, a cold smile appeared on his face. The way he looked at Linde was like he was looking at a dead man. "However, I still don't quite believe those rumors, so…"
As he spoke, he turned and gave a signal to one of the soldiers beside him, then took a few steps back and said, "Since you can hunt a mountain bear, defeating this follower of mine with your bare hands shouldn't be too difficult, right?"
"My lord…" Old Bane's face changed drastically upon hearing this. He hurriedly tried to plead on Linde's behalf. With his rich combat experience, he knew all too well the enormous difference between someone armed and someone unarmed—especially when the other party wasn't just armed, but also wearing full leather armor. No matter how dazzling Linde's dual-wielding swordsmanship had been before, he didn't believe Linde could defeat a fully armed soldier under such lopsided conditions.
"Old Bane, I know you went to find that fellow Will, trying to help the Bear Hunter join the guard," Sir Klo said, stopping Old Bane's plea. He directly exposed what Old Bane had done in Red Lake City some time ago, then put on an expression as if he had just remembered something. "Oh, right, I almost forgot to mention—Smiling Will has been relieved of his position as captain of the Red Lake City guard for embezzlement and thrown into the dungeon. In a couple of days, he'll be executed along with the other prisoners. The current captain of the Red Lake City guard is me, Sir Klo·Klienn."
Hearing this, how could Old Bane not realize that he had unintentionally been dragged into the power struggle within the Klienn family? This Sir Klo had come to teach him a lesson.
Seeing that the situation could no longer be changed, Old Bane could only turn around and pat Linde's shoulder apologetically. Then he leaned close to Linde's ear and whispered, "You must use your full strength. Don't hold back."
(End of Chapter)