books44 Chapter 220: The experience of a thousand battles
Chapter 220: The experience of a thousand battles
It was still early morning when Ethan left the mansion, fully armed and with his armor on.
His footsteps sank into the nearly completely melted snow, tiny crystals shattering beneath his boots with every step.
It was curious. Only ten days had passed since the end of winter, yet the temperature was already rising visibly.
The trees glowed a vibrant green, and amid the last remnants of snow, thick grass was reviving with vigor.
That was heart of the forest beat, pumping mana and aura brimming with life force to every corner of that place.
In just five more days, the Eternal Forest would cease to be a frozen wasteland and transform into a warm, lush tropical forest.
It was strange to wake up every morning during that transition and find the world radically different from the day before.
Honestly, Ethan could only feel happy about it.
The faster the change, the sooner farming in Goldenveil could begin.
Just thinking about all the cultivation speed bonuses he had, an excited smile was already forming on his lips.
Letting out a satisfied sigh, he quickened his pace toward the barracks.
Doran was already waiting for him there, alone since with the arrival of summer, Aerick had left to lead various escort missions around Goldenveil.
"My lord." Doran greeted him respectfully, rising from the desk. "Will you be entering the Hell Soldier’s portal today?"
"Yes. We have two hundred and thirty-two lower-grade magic cores in total, plus three medium-grade ones.
That should be enough to fulfill my objectives and still leave plenty for Goldenveil’s upkeep for a few months."
Doran nodded and walked alongside Ethan across the barracks, passing the many guards training inside.
Most of them were young, but all wore determined, controlled expressions.
Their breathing remained calm even during the rapid-fire duels against their comrades, blades clashing in a steady, ringing rhythm.
Ethan watched the scene with satisfaction, nodding in acknowledgment to yet another member of the Goldenveil guard who had reached the third stage.
Soon, once the guard had organized itself into a more structured military force, that specialist would easily assume the post of captain of a few hundred men.
After a few minutes’ walk, Ethan finally reached the Hell Soldier’s portal.
He opened the interaction menu, adjusted various scenarios, and set the temporal distortion rate to three hundred sixty-five, compressing an entire year of training into a single day.
Fortunately, he could leave at any time, so he didn’t worry too much about the possibility of not being able to endure that long in continuous combat.
"Elena will be acting as regent while I’m away. Any matters should be addressed directly to her or to Ophelia," Ethan said, though none of that would likely be necessary.
After all, it was only one day.
"Yes, my Lord." Doran nodded in agreement, and Ethan let out a faint smile.
"Good." Without further hesitation, the young Lord activated the Hell Soldier’s portal and stepped through with firm strides.
A powerful spatial distortion engulfed his body, dragging him through the fabric of reality.
His vision darkened for an instant, his senses lost in the void.
When his sight returned, he found himself standing in the midst of a battlefield.
A hellish heat enveloped him at once, suffocating and heavy, scalding the air in his lungs with every breath.
Hundreds of arrows sliced through the air without ceasing, whizzing past like a furious swarm, while more than ten thousand soldiers clashed in a bloody battle.
The acrid stench of blood, sweat, and burnt iron invaded his nostrils, and screams of pain and fury mingled with the incessant clanging of blades, forming a chaotic symphony of carnage.
It took him only a few seconds to orient himself amid the chaos. By the time he did, his sword was already slicing through the air in a fluid upward arc, executing Moonclaw Severance at full power.
As the blade completed its arc, three powerful bursts of aura erupted from his feet, splitting the earth open into deep fissures that surged toward the soldiers in front of him.
The poor wretches didn’t even have time to raise their weapons.
Their armor shattered like wet paper under the golden claws that swept over a hundred meters, brutally tearing through flesh and bone in a spray of crimson.
Severed arms, exposed guts, crushed legs, and torn-off heads tumbled onto the blood-soaked ground with sickening thuds.
More than seventy men died in that single instant, while just as many writhed across the dirt, mutilated, screaming desperately amidst their own torn flesh.
"Ah... it’s more real than I imagined," Ethan murmured, tilting his neck to the side to dodge a blade aimed straight at his jugular.
"You bastard!" the leader of the enemy soldiers roared, his sword barely grazing the steel of Ethan’s armor as the young Lord calmly took a step back.
The man’s fury seemed too real for a mere creation of a simulated universe, but Ethan didn’t care.
He responded immediately with a precise thrust at his opponent, who wore powerful black armor.
The man reacted without hesitation, parrying the tip of the blade as the powerful auras of two third-stage warriors collided with a muffled crash that shook the air around them.
It was then that Ethan grinned.
His sword bore, alongside the blade itself, the image of a golden dragon, representing the fourth form of the Golden Dragon Emperor’s Fencing.
The true danger of that technique lay in the invisible attacks that accompanied it, perceptible only to senses of aura or mana.
By the time the enemy realized it, it was already too late.
A clean hole opened in his armor, sinking into his chest and piercing his aorta.
Ethan merely took a step back, watching the blood trickle through every crack in the enemy’s carefully sealed steel armor.
Honestly, it was much better than Cain had described.
It was as if he had just stepped out of a real battle.
With blood boiling in his veins, Ethan plunged headfirst into the slaughter.
This was the perfect opportunity to gain the experience of a thousand battles and hone his skills to the utmost.
He had memorized everything up to the sixth form of the Golden Dragon Emperor’s Fencing, but had only fully mastered the first four.
How could he allow himself to fall behind in a sword art that had been created in his own honor?