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墨書 Inktalez
After a simple wash-up, Freya stepped out of her bedroom.
Although it was still early, the servants had already risen and were busy with their tasks.
As Freya walked down the spiral staircase, she noticed a girl in a white maid outfit diligently wiping with a towel.
"Good morning, Sister Freya," the maid greeted her respectfully upon seeing her.
"Morning," Freya replied with a smile and nodded. Just as she was about to continue down, she seemed to remember something and asked the maid, "By the way, has Father had breakfast this morning?"
"The Baron left the city early this morning..." the maid answered respectfully.
"Oh... I see," Freya nodded, her mind wandering.
In the castle's dining hall, breakfast was not required to be taken together, so only a few people were scattered around.
After greeting those present with a smile, she quickly ate the food brought by the maid, noticing that the seat of honor was indeed empty.
Without any further thoughts, Freya finished her meal and left her seat.
Due to her earlier disobedience and going hunting alone in the forest where she was attacked, Freya was effectively under house arrest by the Baron as punishment.
However, she had no objections to this; given the current situation outside the castle, where turmoil was brewing, going out would only bring danger to herself and worry to the Baron. It was better to find something to do within the castle.
After finishing breakfast, she did not return to her bedroom but instead made her way to a large door deep within the castle, guided by her memory.
The door was unlocked and pushed open easily.
This is a spacious room with a large area, where the reddish-brown floor reflects a light yellow hue from the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Faintly, one can hear the distant sounds of the guard training outside.
Inside the room, aside from some exercise equipment and a row of wooden sword racks, there is nothing else.
This is a place where only individuals with special status within the castle usually train.
In Freya's memory, she had come here a few times out of curiosity and had even been taught some basic sword techniques by Baron. However, due to her playful nature at the time, she abandoned it after only learning a few moves.
Now, looking back, Freya realizes that those basic sword techniques Baron taught her, although they were the simplest forms, were also the most practical and effective for building strength.
She walked over to the sword rack and took one down.
The brown wooden longsword felt somewhat heavy, seemingly made from a material deliberately chosen to mimic real weapons. It was about one meter long, with the guard and blade forming a standard cross shape; this was the most common Cross Sword.
The grip had intersecting scratches meant to secure the hand to the sword, making it quite comfortable to hold.
Freya closed her eyes, allowing her mind to delve into memories.
In the early morning, her active thoughts brought her memories to a deeper level, revealing even details she hadn't noticed before.
In her memory's scene, a sturdy man with a full beard was smiling as he demonstrated sword techniques for a girl standing beside him.
The slow sword movements were intentionally slowed down by the man; whether downward strikes, diagonal slashes, or thrusts, his seemingly casual actions appeared incredibly precise in Freya's eyes.
The basic sword techniques were so simple that Freya quickly grasped the methods of exertion and key movements involved.
Suddenly opening her eyes, she swung the longsword in her hand downward in accordance with Baron's demonstration from her memory and then followed up with a horizontal slash!
The two simple movements were slightly distorted by the weight of the wooden sword. Although her mind could clearly remember the correct actions, her body still required continuous training to execute them properly.
After completing the two movements, she adjusted her posture slightly.
"Thrust!"
"Whoosh."
A faint sound of slicing through the air echoed beneath her sword technique, and her hair, lifted by the motion, shimmered with a hazy golden hue in the morning light.
"Upward Slash!"
"Thud."
The sound of the wooden sword cutting through the air reverberated in the spacious room.
Soon, several techniques were completed.
Freya's forehead gradually began to bead with fine sweat.
Switching the wooden sword to her left hand, she realized that even this simple action required the strength of her entire body, making it quite exhausting.
Although Freya inherited a better physique from Baron compared to other girls her age, this kind of training was still somewhat challenging for her.
Freya shook her slightly sore right hand.
"If only the sword were a bit lighter."
However, she also understood that most weapons in this world were still made of iron, and only a few noble families possessed steel weapons, which were typically reserved for top-tier warriors.
In this world, the quality of most weapons is not determined by their sharpness, but rather by their durability and weight.
Even if a heavy iron sword cannot kill you, it can still crush you!
Complaining does not solve problems; training must continue.
A faint sound of slicing through the air followed a brief pause.
This simple training does not yield immediate results; it requires perseverance and determination.
As time passed, Freya's movements began to transition from slow to increasingly fluid.
Some sword techniques gradually became faster due to familiarity.
A few simple movements, under her demonstration, carried an air of grace.
The wooden sword sliced through the air, creating a continuous sound.
Moreover, Freya noticed that with each repetition of her training, her familiarity with swordsmanship deepened, a response cultivated from past training.
Perhaps she truly had a unique talent for swordsmanship; unconsciously, Freya became more engrossed in her practice, not even noticing that her clothes were soaked with sweat.
With fierce sword techniques cutting through the air, after a swift turn and an upward slash, the wooden sword finally came to a stop.
"Ha... ha..."
Feeling her stamina gradually waning, Freya paused.
She was drenched in sweat, and her body felt somewhat sore from the intensity of this initial workout. The fourteen-year-old girl exuded a subtle lightness after undergoing such training.
However, Freya soon realized that this feeling was not her illusion, but something real. Although it was just a trace, she, with her exceptional intellect, still managed to capture it.
Freya wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked at the wooden sword in her hand, a slight smile curling at the corners of her mouth.
"It seems that this training method is indeed the most effective! However... if I overdo it in one session, it could harm my body, which would be counterproductive. I need to make some plans."
As the number of refugees in the territory increased, Baron spent less time in the castle, sometimes disappearing for two or three days. Each time he returned, his longsword was stained with a strong smell of blood, leaving him little time to care for Freya.
Nevertheless, Freya was happy with this arrangement.
From then on, her daily routine seemed almost set in stone: after breakfast each morning, she would go to the training room to practice Basic Swordsmanship, followed by some running exercises in an open area. In the evenings, she would visit the library to read books.
Since she did not deliberately avoid others, gradually everyone in the castle became aware of her newly developed habits. When Baron learned of this, he was pleased to offer her a few pointers.
This way of life continued for half a month.
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