Chapter 22: Training Day

Wu Qingsong and his companions decided to keep a low profile, fortunate that their lodging was situated above a restaurant. Given that facilities for drawing water and disposing of chamber pots were conveniently close, the likelihood of them being discovered was extremely slim.

Wu Qingsong meticulously surveyed the area around the restaurant and found the city planning of Umber to be impressive. Almost every street featured semi-open drainage systems, punctuated at intervals by fountains that supplied clean water through ceramic pipes. These well-considered amenities not only eased the daily lives of the residents but also acted as effective fire prevention measures.

This might explain why the recent fire had not resulted in significant damage.

The restaurant below served as a valuable source of local news. Wu Qingsong discreetly asked but discovered that not many were aware of the crime and fire incident that had unfolded in some distant warehouse.

He tasked Ling with buying several sets of garments from a nearby clothing store, outfits that could mask their faces, after which they discreetly walked past their prior location. The door was tight shut, and there was no sign that the escaped beastman had returned. Moreover, there appeared to be no city guards lying nearby either.

Liuli, the most unassuming among them, was sent to scout the city gates, docks, and town square for any wanted posters. She found none.

Could it be that the beastman had been scared away for good? Had things really calmed down?

Wu Qingsong couldn’t bring himself to believe his luck would be that good.

In fact, as more time passed, he began to question whether he’d even be able to recognize the escaped beastman if they crossed paths again. Distinguishing one beastman from another, especially when their faces were shrouded in fur, was a more difficult task than he had expected.

No matter the circumstances, life had to go on.

This minor incident had been an eye-opener for them, beyond revealing the dark side of this thriving commercial city, it underscored the need for constant vigilance. The most tangible benefit was the coins Wu Qingsong had obtained from the deceased.

While the amount was less than half of what Nina had provided, it was sufficient to sustain them for a considerable time.

Armed with this newfound capital, Wu Qingsong opted for a more private living arrangement, a separate courtyard. For someone burdened with multiple secrets, sharing space with a host of strangers was unquestionably risky.

Although their landlady appeared disappointed by their decision, she graciously assisted them in finding a secluded courtyard nearby that met Wu Qingsong’s specifications. The monthly rent came to 25 renals.

However, she refused to refund the rent they had already paid. Instead, she offered to put it on their tab, allowing them to use it as credit for future meals at her restaurant.

“What a penny-pincher,” Ling commented, slightly miffed.

“At least their food is good. Liuli particularly likes it, doesn’t she?” Wu Qingsong comforted her.

He started to notice a correlation between the beastfolk’s behavior and their respective species. For instance, with Liuli, he often found himself wondering whether she was a human with cat-like features or a cat with human-like attributes. And while Ling was generally delicate, her personality exhibited hints of a mastiff’s traits, stubborn and relentless in clinging to a specific issue.

This made Wu Qingsong somewhat uneasy. He found that Ling was almost excessively obedient toward him, to the point where she seemed to lack personal opinions.

The most pressing task for Wu Qingsong was, of course, improving his survival skills in this unfamiliar world.

He found a local employment agency and, through them, secured a retired mercenary as his swordsmanship instructor. While the five silver coin agency fee wasn’t pocket change, Wu Qingsong considered it a justifiable cost, especially after his recent experience of being conned.

His new tutor was an aging wolfman named Harold, whose left hand had been amputated at the wrist and replaced with an iron hook. His limited mobility suggested he had sustained injuries in the past.

According to the employment agency, Harold was once a member of the illustrious Reya Mercenary Group in Umber, reputed to be a highly skilled and seasoned swordsman. However, Harold himself told Wu Qingsong that he was actually just a member of one of the many peripheral organizations of the Reya Mercenary Group. While it was true that he was experienced, he might not necessarily be considered strong.

“Experienced, yes. Skilled? Not so much,” Harold clarified. “However, for training a greenhorn like you, I’m more than enough. There are better swordsmanship instructors out there, but you don’t look like you could afford them.”

‘Talk about blunt,’ Wu Qingsong thought to himself.

He had committed to a monthly fee of thirty silver coins for Harold’s services. Ling considered this a daylight robbery, after all even a stalwart mastiffman soldier in Rem City wouldn’t earn more than that per month. However, after spending some time with Harold, Wu Qingsong came to believe the expense was well worth it.

Harold might have been gruff in conversation, but his level of dedication during training justified the cost. Even more valuable were the war stories and wisdom Harold shared during their breaks, insights that were invaluable to Wu Qingsong in navigating his new life.

“You’ve already passed the prime age for martial training. Even though you’re still young, your bones and muscles have set. It’s hard to develop further,” Harold said candidly. 

“My suggestion would be for you to focus on archery rather than swordsmanship. If you are set on using a sword, then a rapier, your kind already uses it quite often, is likely the only weapon you’d manage to handle effectively. And just so you know, you won’t stand a chance of being recruited by any mercenary group, let alone a formal army, without some serious connections or background,” he added.

‘He doesn’t know what I’m capable of,’ Wu Qingsong silently retorted to himself. 

Such discouragement wasn’t going to shake him. After all, he had already defeated at least seven or eight soldiers from a regular army. Although special factors played a role, he was confident that his relentless physique would prove to be his ultimate secret weapon if he applied himself. 

However, Wu Qingsong also took Harold’s advice seriously. Whether as an adventurer or a warrior, proficiency in archery was an essential skill. Consequently, he reluctantly spent a few more Sols to purchase a training rapier and a wooden bow. 

Weapons were a top-tier luxury in this world. Even a modest weapon could cost upward of five Sols, and good protective gear was astronomical in price.

“The key distinction between mercenaries and soldiers is precisely this,” Harold elaborated, “Mercenaries usually possess nothing more than a sword, a battered wooden shield, and a short-range bow. Soldiers, on the other hand, have at least a piece of hardened leather armor. In the heat of battle, soldiers often rely on their comrades for support, whereas mercenaries have only themselves to count on.”

Training began without delay. Physical conditioning was a given. Every morning Wu Qingsong jogged around their residential area for an hour. This was followed by lifting stone weights to build arm strength and performing frog jumps to boost leg power, among other exercises.

Next on the agenda was reflex training. Harold hung sandbags of varying sizes from a tree in their yard. Liuli then climbed the tree to randomly drop them down.

Wu Qingsong’s initial challenge was to quash the instinctual urge to close his eyes when objects flew toward his face. Harold’s method to correct this? A swift, merciless strike with a stick.

Every time Wu Qingsong shut his eyes at the falling sandbag, he was met with an unforgiving whack.

“On the battlefield, closing your eyes is like surrendering any chance you have to dodge, defend, or counter. You’re basically offering yourself up for slaughter. Even if arrows are fired your way, you must keep your eyes wide open to gauge their trajectory and decide if you can dodge or parry them. Often, a single blink could cost you your life,” Harold lectured.

While the reasoning behind Harold’s words was sound, overriding natural instincts proved to be easier said than done.

To Wu Qingsong’s surprise, mastering archery came the most naturally to him. Beyond the necessary arm strength and stability, his grasp of concepts like parabolic arcs and wind speeds enabled him to quickly decode Harold’s so-called ‘archery secrets.’ In fact, Wu Qingsong could succinctly explain the complex mathematics and physics at play using simple equations, if only Harold were willing to listen.

“‘If not for your lack of physical strength, you’d make a natural archer,'” Harold complimented, a rare occurrence. Yet before Wu Qingsong could bask in the praise, Harold added, “‘Now, hang a weight on your arm and hold that position for an hour, every day.'”

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Wu Qingsong mentally screamed, his disbelief instantly igniting within him.