At the crack of dawn, Anfey pushed himself off of his bed and took a few deep breaths . Yesterday's quarrel was behind him; his eyes were made to look forward, not back . If he didn't let go, it would only be harder on himself . To live was to let go, he told himself . Niya was Saul's only daughter, he couldn't do anything to her . It was in his best interest to simply let it go .
When he pushed open the window, he spotted Ernest practicing his sword below . In truth, it was more a warm up than serious practice . For someone to be as skilled as Ernest, practice was not merely enough .
Anfey grabbed a towel and left his room . He descended the stairs and entered the courtyard . "Ernest, sir," he called as he threw the towel to the man . "Please take a break . "
"Anfey, morning," Ernest said as he walked over with the towel, wiping his neck . "You're up early," he added as he handed the towel to Anfey .
As Anfey extended his hand to grab the towel, Ernest frowned . "Your hands…"
"My hands?" Anfey blinked, feigning ignorance .
Ernest held out his hands . Their hands were of similar sizes, their fingers long and powerful . The only differences were his rough skin and the tendons sticking out on the back of Ernest's hand . Ernest grabbed Anfey's hand and turned it over, finding a thin layer of calluses on his palm, where the thumb met the hand . Ernest had never paid attention to Anfey's hands before, so he was only now discovering the unusualness of the young man .
"You have experience with swords?"
"A little, a long time ago . "
"With whom? I can't feel any fighting intent from you . "
"With a strange old man in my village . Not for long, though . I was only ten when Yagor took me to the island . "
"Still don't remember where you lived?"
"No," Anfey said, scratching his head . "I didn't have a father and my mother raised me . I can only remember her name and the village head's name . Everything else is blurred . "
"Don't worry . All in due time," Ernest said . "What was the village head's name?"
"Bin Laden . Do you know him?"
"No," Ernest said, shaking his head .
"Like you would know," Anfey thought, displaying his disappointment for Ernest to see .
"Come, boy, let me see your skill with the sword," Ernest said, suddenly interested .
"Me? With you?" Anfey asked, widening his eyes .
"Come, don't be afraid . I will not harm you," Ernest said, smiling, as he handed Anfey the magic sword from yesterday .
Anfey took the sword reluctantly, clearly regretting his decision of ever leaving his room .
"Watch out!" Ernest said as he drove his sword forwards . He didn't intend to actually fight Anfey, so although the sword was fast he didn't use much strength .
Anfey blocked the sword, pushing Ernest away from himself . Then he flicked his wrist, brushing Ernest's wrist with the tip of his sword . Ernest blocked Anfey's attack, shocked .
Like the way mages focused on the strength of their magic and their senses, the swordmasters of this world focused on their qi . Their actual skills with the swords were in fact very easily learned . In Jin Yong's world, there was the conflict between the Qi Zong and the Jian Zong[1]; in this world, all the warriors belonged in the Qi Zong . Their skill level was determined by qi as well .
Even though Anfey only used the simplest form of Tai Chi Sword, Ernest could still tell just how effective it was . What was even more shocking was that Anfey was taken away by Yagor at ten, meaning his skills were simple and crude at best . But even so, his skills with the sword were mesmerizing . Just how skillful was that old man from his village?
"Anfey, what was the name of the man that taught you this sword art?"
"I don't know . He was a strange man, and no one wanted anything to do with him . "
"Can you remember what he looked like?"
"Of course . He had white hair and beard . He wasn't tall, and always wore loose-fitting clothes . Oh, on his clothes there was an embroidery . "
"What?" Ernest thought he was onto something, and his expression became somber .
"A circle, half white, half black . In the white half there was a black dot, and in the black half there was a white dot . " Anfey said, drawing a yin-yang symbol on the ground with his sword . "Do you not know what this is?"
"No . " Ernest said . "Come, let's spar another round . "
"As you wish . "
The two men set up again, facing each other . Anfey was using very little strength, weak enough that if Ernest used any more power Anfey's sword would have flown out of his fingers . However, Ernest's frown was only deepening .
Anfey had a strange way of using his sword . He barely moved his upper arms, relying solely on his wrist to control the movement of the blade . Despite that, his movements were persistent and precise . Ernest could feel that Anfey had at least the skill of a mid- to upper-level swordmaster; enough to be a threat to him .
After a few moments, Ernest stopped his hands . He gripped his sword and stared at the sky, reveling in his thoughts .
Anfey placed his sword down quietly . Yes, he did what he just did on purpose . Ernest carried hatred in his heart, waiting for an opportunity . All the while, the object of his hatred had become the general of a powerful army . Saul had said Jerrofick was surrounded by the strongest and the best, and that Ernest's chance of revenge was getting slimmer .
Ernest did not fear death, but that did not mean he was actively placing himself in situations that could lead to his death . If Ernest appeared in front of Jerrofick, he would surely be attacked by those 'best of the best,' leaving him no chance for his revenge .
Anfey had purposefully shown him a few of his moves, hoping to give Ernest a hint or two .
"Mr . Ernest? Breakfast is ready," Niya's voice said . Of course, these things could be left to the servants, but Niya knew she had angered Ernest yesterday . She was hoping that her actions could make up for her mistakes since she still wanted Ernest's instruction on her sword skills .
Ernest, as if awoken from a dream, looked at Anfey . "I'll pass on breakfast," he said . "Go right ahead, Anfey . You are going to the Academy today, so do be careful . If anything happens, try sticking through it . But remember to tell me when you get back . "
"It's okay, Mr . Ernest," Anfey said, smiling . "Who's going to do anything?"
Ernest glanced at Niya and snorted, but did not say anything .
"Then I'll be off to breakfast," Anfey said . "I don't want to leave a bad impression by being late on the first day . "
Ernest nodded, "Go right ahead . "
Niya, seeing that Ernest didn't want breakfast, wanted to saying something more . But, ultimately, she silenced herself and led Anfey towards the dining hall .
Inside the hall, Saul was already at the tableside, and the food was ready . He had not touched it, as if he was waiting for something . Seeing Anfey entering the hall, he smiled . "Morning, Anfey . How was your night?"
"I was very comfortable, Master," Anfey said . "I could hardly remember where I was when I woke up . "
Saul, of course, did not know what happened yesterday . Niya was in the wrong and did not dare tell her father about it . Anfey wasn't one for snitching . Ever since he was a child, he had never told anyone when he suffered an injustice . Ernest was used to freedom; when he encountered problems, he was used to dealing with them alone . He would almost never talk to Saul about his problems . So, to Saul, everyone was still friendly with each other .
The youngsters sitting around the table glanced at each other without saying a word . Even the youngest of them had followed Saul for a few years now, but Saul cared only for their magical abilities, not their personal lives . Only Niya could make Saul worry about her personal life . Now there was one more person that could make Saul worry—Anfey .
"Morning, everyone," Anfey said, smiling as he sat down . Only two people returned the courtesy, the rest treated him as if he didn't exist .
Anfey let out a sigh of relief . It seemed like it was only a minor problem . Yesterday, Niya was talked into starting trouble with him, and he thought that they were a group of sly people . Judging by their reaction today, he had overestimated them .
Of course, all of this was because of the unusually good treatment by Saul . It caused hostility among his colleagues, but those feelings could be eliminated over time . He could earn their respect by proving himself useful . If it didn't come to that, Anfey didn't want to make enemies with any of these people . As far as Anfey cared, friendships were much more useful to a man than enmity . It was better to be friends with these people than to fight and conspire against each other right under Saul's nose . It was obvious the first path was easier for him and his future . He had always considered himself to be easygoing, never holding grudges where grudges weren't needed .
"Niya," Saul said . "Take Anfey to the academy later . Tell Steger that he is my student and should be offered the best care . "
"Of course, father," Niya said, smiling sweetly .
Translator's Thoughts Nyoi-Bo Studio[1] Jin Yong is a novelist specializing in Wuxia novels . Qi Zong is a group of martial artists specialized in breathing techniques, whereas Jian Zong is a group of martial artists specializing in sword skills .
Rate Translation Quality No comments . Be the first!
At the crack of dawn, Anfey pushed himself off of his bed and took a few deep breaths . Yesterday's quarrel was behind him; his eyes were made to look forward, not back . If he didn't let go, it would only be harder on himself . To live was to let go, he told himself . Niya was Saul's only daughter, he couldn't do anything to her . It was in his best interest to simply let it go
.
When he pushed open the window, he spotted Ernest practicing his sword below . In truth, it was more a warm up than serious practice . For someone to be as skilled as Ernest, practice was not merely enough
.
Anfey grabbed a towel and left his room . He descended the stairs and entered the courtyard . Ernest, sir, he called as he threw the towel to the man . Please take a break . .
.
Anfey, morning, Ernest said as he walked over with the towel, wiping his neck . You're up early, he added as he handed the towel to Anfey
.
As Anfey extended his hand to grab the towel, Ernest frowned . Your hands… .
.
My hands? Anfey blinked, feigning ignorance
.
Ernest held out his hands . Their hands were of similar sizes, their fingers long and powerful . The only differences were his rough skin and the tendons sticking out on the back of Ernest's hand . Ernest grabbed Anfey's hand and turned it over, finding a thin layer of calluses on his palm, where the thumb met the hand . Ernest had never paid attention to Anfey's hands before, so he was only now discovering the unusualness of the young man
.
You have experience with swords? .
.
A little, a long time ago . .
.
With whom? I can't feel any fighting intent from you . .
.
With a strange old man in my village . Not for long, though . I was only ten when Yagor took me to the island . .
.
Still don't remember where you lived? .
.
No, Anfey said, scratching his head . I didn't have a father and my mother raised me . I can only remember her name and the village head's name . Everything else is blurred . .
.
Don't worry . All in due time, Ernest said . What was the village head's name? .
.
Bin Laden . Do you know him? .
.
No, Ernest said, shaking his head
.
Like you would know, Anfey thought, displaying his disappointment for Ernest to see
.
Come, boy, let me see your skill with the sword, Ernest said, suddenly interested
.
Me? With you? Anfey asked, widening his eyes
.
Come, don't be afraid . I will not harm you, Ernest said, smiling, as he handed Anfey the magic sword from yesterday
.
Anfey took the sword reluctantly, clearly regretting his decision of ever leaving his room
.
Watch out! Ernest said as he drove his sword forwards . He didn't intend to actually fight Anfey, so although the sword was fast he didn't use much strength
.
Anfey blocked the sword, pushing Ernest away from himself . Then he flicked his wrist, brushing Ernest's wrist with the tip of his sword . Ernest blocked Anfey's attack, shocked
.
Like the way mages focused on the strength of their magic and their senses, the swordmasters of this world focused on their qi . Their actual skills with the swords were in fact very easily learned . In Jin Yong's world, there was the conflict between the Qi Zong and the Jian Zong[1]; in this world, all the warriors belonged in the Qi Zong . Their skill level was determined by qi as well
.
Even though Anfey only used the simplest form of Tai Chi Sword, Ernest could still tell just how effective it was . What was even more shocking was that Anfey was taken away by Yagor at ten, meaning his skills were simple and crude at best . But even so, his skills with the sword were mesmerizing . Just how skillful was that old man from his village? .
.
Anfey, what was the name of the man that taught you this sword art? .
.
I don't know . He was a strange man, and no one wanted anything to do with him . .
.
Can you remember what he looked like? .
.
Of course . He had white hair and beard . He wasn't tall, and always wore loose-fitting clothes . Oh, on his clothes there was an embroidery . .
.
What? Ernest thought he was onto something, and his expression became somber
.
A circle, half white, half black . In the white half there was a black dot, and in the black half there was a white dot . Anfey said, drawing a yin-yang symbol on the ground with his sword . Do you not know what this is? .
.
No . Ernest said . Come, let's spar another round . .
.
As you wish . .
.
The two men set up again, facing each other . Anfey was using very little strength, weak enough that if Ernest used any more power Anfey's sword would have flown out of his fingers . However, Ernest's frown was only deepening
.
Anfey had a strange way of using his sword . He barely moved his upper arms, relying solely on his wrist to control the movement of the blade . Despite that, his movements were persistent and precise . Ernest could feel that Anfey had at least the skill of a mid- to upper-level swordmaster; enough to be a threat to him
.
After a few moments, Ernest stopped his hands . He gripped his sword and stared at the sky, reveling in his thoughts
.
Anfey placed his sword down quietly . Yes, he did what he just did on purpose . Ernest carried hatred in his heart, waiting for an opportunity . All the while, the object of his hatred had become the general of a powerful army . Saul had said Jerrofick was surrounded by the strongest and the best, and that Ernest's chance of revenge was getting slimmer
.
Ernest did not fear death, but that did not mean he was actively placing himself in situations that could lead to his death . If Ernest appeared in front of Jerrofick, he would surely be attacked by those 'best of the best,' leaving him no chance for his revenge
.
Anfey had purposefully shown him a few of his moves, hoping to give Ernest a hint or two
.
Mr . Ernest? Breakfast is ready, Niya's voice said . Of course, these things could be left to the servants, but Niya knew she had angered Ernest yesterday . She was hoping that her actions could make up for her mistakes since she still wanted Ernest's instruction on her sword skills
.
Ernest, as if awoken from a dream, looked at Anfey . I'll pass on breakfast, he said . Go right ahead, Anfey . You are going to the Academy today, so do be careful . If anything happens, try sticking through it . But remember to tell me when you get back . .
.
It's okay, Mr . Ernest, Anfey said, smiling . Who's going to do anything? .
.
Ernest glanced at Niya and snorted, but did not say anything
.
Then I'll be off to breakfast, Anfey said . I don't want to leave a bad impression by being late on the first day . .
.
Ernest nodded, Go right ahead . .
.
Niya, seeing that Ernest didn't want breakfast, wanted to saying something more . But, ultimately, she silenced herself and led Anfey towards the dining hall
.
Inside the hall, Saul was already at the tableside, and the food was ready . He had not touched it, as if he was waiting for something . Seeing Anfey entering the hall, he smiled . Morning, Anfey . How was your night? .
.
I was very comfortable, Master, Anfey said . I could hardly remember where I was when I woke up . .
.
Saul, of course, did not know what happened yesterday . Niya was in the wrong and did not dare tell her father about it . Anfey wasn't one for snitching . Ever since he was a child, he had never told anyone when he suffered an injustice . Ernest was used to freedom; when he encountered problems, he was used to dealing with them alone . He would almost never talk to Saul about his problems . So, to Saul, everyone was still friendly with each other
.
The youngsters sitting around the table glanced at each other without saying a word . Even the youngest of them had followed Saul for a few years now, but Saul cared only for their magical abilities, not their personal lives . Only Niya could make Saul worry about her personal life . Now there was one more person that could make Saul worry—Anfey
.
Morning, everyone, Anfey said, smiling as he sat down . Only two people returned the courtesy, the rest treated him as if he didn't exist
.
Anfey let out a sigh of relief . It seemed like it was only a minor problem . Yesterday, Niya was talked into starting trouble with him, and he thought that they were a group of sly people . Judging by their reaction today, he had overestimated them
.
Of course, all of this was because of the unusually good treatment by Saul . It caused hostility among his colleagues, but those feelings could be eliminated over time . He could earn their respect by proving himself useful . If it didn't come to that, Anfey didn't want to make enemies with any of these people . As far as Anfey cared, friendships were much more useful to a man than enmity . It was better to be friends with these people than to fight and conspire against each other right under Saul's nose . It was obvious the first path was easier for him and his future . He had always considered himself to be easygoing, never holding grudges where grudges weren't needed
.
Niya, Saul said . Take Anfey to the academy later . Tell Steger that he is my student and should be offered the best care . .
.
Of course, father, Niya said, smiling sweetly
. Translators Thoughts Nyoi-Bo Studio
[1] Jin Yong is a novelist specializing in Wuxia novels . Qi Zong is a group of martial artists specialized in breathing techniques, whereas Jian Zong is a group of martial artists specializing in sword skills Rate Translation Quality No comments . Be the first!
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