Chapter 7: Monster-Slaying Sword Technique - Three Forms

Two months had flown by in the blink of an eye. Oliver had endured countless hardships to finally reach the entry-level of the Monster-Slaying Sword Technique.

Two months just to get started? Indeed. It was a grueling process, but this entry-level mastery was not without merit.

"Wolf Chase!"

Oliver suddenly burst forward, his blade sweeping backward in a explosive semicircle.

"Tiger Cleave!"

He leapt, executing the classic mountain-splitting strike, slashing from top to bottom as if to bisect a peak.

"Demon Slash!"

"ROAR!"

Oliver's bellow shook the leaves. His spirit and energy condensed on the blade as he unleashed three consecutive fierce slashes, leaving deep "川"-shaped marks on nearby trees.

As he finished the three forms, Oliver nodded with satisfaction. He took out his water flask and took a swig.

The names of these moves held great significance. Like a formula, they helped mobilize internal energy flow and enhance the power of each strike.

After a day of practice, Oliver's throat and body were burning. They shared the strain, forcing him to develop a habit of frequent hydration. Despite two months of rigorous training, Thomas had only given him an entry-level evaluation.

According to Thomas, merely imitating the forms was useless. One had to circulate their internal energy properly.

Oliver's energy circulation was just at the entry-level, and his body hadn't fully adapted. Moreover, his posture was slightly off, so the entry-level rating was to be expected.

Oliver could only smile bitterly.

He had tried every method to make his internal energy flow faster, but it seemed entry-level was the best he could manage.

His talent for swordsmanship was abysmal. He clearly wasn't suited for it, and it might take a year or two to reach proficiency.

This realization made Oliver abandon the Monster-Slaying Sword Technique entirely, focusing all his efforts on cultivating internal energy.

In the past two months, his time practicing Energy Cultivation had been greatly reduced, resulting in only thirty new strands of internal energy.

He had to make the most of the remaining seven months!

Every pale white strand of energy he cultivated would not only increase his explosive power duration but also enhance his physical fitness. When the time came, he'd be able to hurl bricks with his strength – far more reliable than any sword technique!

...

The sun shone brightly as Oliver made his usual trip to the mess hall. His mind wandered, pondering the intricacies of Energy Cultivation and the Monster-Slaying Sword Technique.

His thoughts diverged, wondering if there was a way to increase his digestive speed.

He had attempted to use internal energy to strengthen his stomach and intestines, hoping to boost his digestive function.

Unfortunately, his internal energy couldn't reach his digestive organs at all. It could only circulate on the body's surface or in areas like the eyes and nose.

This was a matter of "precision" – one of the three key elements. His control over internal energy wasn't accurate enough. It dissipated before reaching its intended destination. How could it be effective?

This kind of technical development obviously required significant initial investment to map various acupoints and meridians.

Oliver's nutritional intake for cultivating internal energy was far too meager to support the vast amounts of energy needed for such exploration.

Thus, the development of digestive techniques was shelved, yielding no results so far.

But hope often outweighed reason. No matter how he rationalized it, Oliver felt it was highly probable.

If internal energy could enhance eyesight and bodily functions, why couldn't it strengthen digestive organs?

This tantalizing possibility always left Oliver wondering how great it would be if he succeeded...

Much like a gambler who always feels his big win is just around the corner.

The opportunity was before him. Should he take the gamble?

Win, and he'd strike it rich. Lose, and he'd face ruin.

Oliver couldn't decide. He knew continued practice would definitely yield results, but the benefits of this gamble were unknown. He might waste a year and lose the golden opportunity to improve his strength.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the distance.

"Make way! Make way! Master William, apply the medicine quickly!"

A middle-aged man rushed over, carrying a teenager on his back.

The man was shouting frantically as chaos ensued around him. Oliver watched as he carefully laid the teenager on the ground, only to be immediately surrounded by a crowd, blocking Oliver's view.

Uninterested in the spectacle, Oliver silently continued his meal.

To be honest, the food was barely palatable.

After experiencing more flavorful seasonings, eating this bland fare with just a touch of salt...

If he had to describe it, this was pig slop. He could only force it down by closing his eyes.

There was no choice. With only two meals a day, he had to eat to his limit for the sake of his training.

In this state, he'd vomit even if the food tasted good, let alone this insipid gruel.

As Oliver finished eating and moved to get another serving, the crowd finally dispersed.

He absent-mindedly scratched the iron plate with his fingernails, glancing at the incident's protagonist.

A young man with a pale face and red chest lay unconscious on the ground.

Beside him, a man – perhaps his father or uncle – looked anxious but focused, pressing his hand on the boy's abdomen. A faint white mist rose from the contact point.

"Is he using internal energy to treat injuries?!" Oliver realized.

If he remembered correctly, this required at least the third level of Energy Cultivation!

This man was truly a master!

Upon closer inspection, Oliver suddenly recognized him. Wasn't this Henry's father, the hunter?

Startled, he looked carefully at the young man's face. Indeed, he found traces of roundness, and the features resembled Henry's.

Less than a year had passed, but the changes were dramatic. Oliver hadn't recognized him at first.

"This medicine isn't cheap. Remember to pay for it," the portly cook said, sitting next to Henry's father.

He was Master William, who had just administered medicine to Henry, seemingly stabilizing his condition.

The effect was remarkably swift – it must have cost a fortune.

"Of course, Master William. I'll repay it as soon as possible!" Henry's father said hurriedly.

"As long as it's repaid. How did he get so gravely injured?"

"Alas, Henry was reckless. Not only did he let the target escape, but he also lost a significant amount of money. We really shouldn't allow rookies into the mountains so early. What's the point of honest practice for a few years if this is the result?"

Henry's father sighed, lamenting to those around him.

Oliver finished his meal, deciding not to linger and listen further. He slipped away immediately.

Though he had heard only a few words, a strong sense of crisis rose in his heart once more.

Not enough strength! Not enough time!

Half a year had passed in the blink of an eye, and he had barely made progress. Soon he'd be joining the dangerous Hunting Team. Henry had his father to protect him, but who would care if Oliver, with no real power, lived or died?

Even with the ability to reincarnate, life wasn't to be wasted carelessly!

"I must practice with all my might. Forget about digestion techniques! Only seven months remain. Even if that research succeeds, it's only potential for the future. If I'm as unlucky as other protagonists and encounter a monster on my first hunt, I'm doomed."

Oliver felt the chances were uncomfortably high.

Possessing a treasure like the Rebirth Codex, with the appearance of a protagonist and the fate of a mayfly – born in the morning and dying in the evening...

If nothing unexpected happened, something unexpected was bound to occur!