As the heavy wooden door slowly closed, silence once again enveloped the room.

Mr. Colin’s recent words were like a sledgehammer, completely dispelling Roland’s drowsiness and fatigue.

He took a deep breath and slowly sat down on the wooden chair, his long fingers tapping a rhythm on the wooden table before him.

As the crisp sound echoed through the room, his thoughts began to race.

’From what Colin said, if I just agree, I can study at a Knight Academy in the River Domain.’

’Compared to earning a title through military merit in the Golden Valley Kingdom, this path is indeed easier and faster, but...’

Roland’s brow slowly furrowed.

He knew very well that there was no such thing as a free lunch.

He wouldn’t feel much reluctance if it was just a matter of giving up his status as one of the Free People of the Golden Valley Kingdom.

After all, it had been less than a year since he transmigrated here, and he had yet to develop a deep sense of belonging to this land.

Although he had made many like-minded friends here, the Golden Valley Kingdom and the River Domain had maintained diplomatic relations for decades and had always been on good terms. He figured it was unlikely they would ever come to blows.

But besides that, going to the River Domain meant facing unfamiliar customs, cultures, and social systems.

And Mr. Colin surely had other, undisclosed requirements...

After weighing the pros and cons repeatedly, Roland’s gaze gradually grew firm.

’I’ll go to the River Domain! Whatever other conditions Colin has, I’ll just ask about them when the time comes. Compared to the difficult path of obtaining a Knight’s Breathing Technique in the Golden Valley Kingdom, the route through the River Domain is clearly more direct and efficient!’

’Besides, would serving on the border not have its own strings attached? And...’

Recalling the rumors he had heard from others about the River Domain recently, Roland stopped tapping on the tabletop.

’Compared to the Golden Valley Kingdom’s deeply entrenched aristocratic system, the River Domain’s model of joint governance might offer me more room to grow.’

’Even if I become an Extraordinary Professional, I’d probably be restricted at every turn in the Golden Valley Kingdom. I might as well go to the River Domain and try my luck!’

Having made up his mind, while he was still relatively clear-headed, Roland picked up the scroll for the Combat Skill [Crescent Moon Guide] and slowly unrolled it on the wooden table.

He then furrowed his brow and began to study it carefully.

A moment later, the corners of Roland’s mouth lifted slightly, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.

This Combat Skill, named [Crescent Moon Guide], was just as he had expected. If cultivated to its peak, it could truly achieve the effect of deflecting a thousand pounds with a mere four ounces.

The essence of the [Crescent Moon Guide] was both difficult and simple.

The difficulty lay in the timing, while the simplicity was in its transparent principles.

The key lay in "Observing the Trend" and "Borrowed Power."

So-called "Observing the Trend" meant using perception as sharp as a falcon’s to, in the instant an enemy’s attack began, precisely capture the trajectory of their power’s flow and discern its weakest point.

As for "Borrowed Power," it required nimble rotations of the wrist—not to block head-on, but to follow the opponent’s force with a gentle nudge, deflecting their attack.

It was like water encountering a stone; it doesn’t wrestle with it but flows around its sharp edges and guides it along.

As long as the timing was precise, even a light touch of a fingertip could break the opponent’s balance.

Then, with just a slight pull, you could make them lose their footing, exposing a fatal flaw in their offense.

An ordinary person trying to cultivate this Combat Skill would certainly face numerous obstacles in their practice.

After all, both "Observing the Trend" and "Borrowed Power" required extensive combat experience and long-term, arduous practice to master.

But for the current Roland, these difficulties were as easy as reaching into a bag to grab something.

First, for "Observing the Trend," he only needed to activate his [Concentration] state, allowing his mind to operate at high speed, to easily perceive changes in the battle situation.

As for the various complex wrist rotations required for "Borrowed Power," they were as easy as flipping his palm for him, who was empowered by [Two-Handed Martial Arts].

The Extraordinary flexibility granted by this Extra Benefit allowed him to perfectly replicate the technical moves on the scroll that were difficult for ordinary people to perform.

Thinking of this, Roland immediately drew his Mithril Longsword and began to practice.

With the soft sound of the blade cutting through the air, he mastered most of the wrist techniques recorded on the scroll in just a few moments.

But as he sheathed his sword, Roland frowned slightly.

The [Crescent Moon Guide] he had just performed did not produce the vortex that pulled on weapons, the one he’d seen when Gandar fought.

In comparison, his technique felt more like a refined parrying skill, far from being able to completely deflect an attack like Gandar had, let alone use Borrowed Power to send an opponent flying.

’Perhaps my mastery isn’t refined enough yet...’

After muttering to himself, Roland temporarily suppressed the doubt in his heart.

As his Spirit relaxed, the fatigue from the fierce battle washed over him again like a tide.

He let out a long breath and lay down on the soft bed, Mr. Colin’s earlier words echoing in his mind again.

’Mr. Colin seemed to mention earlier... that there’s more than one type of Knight’s Breathing Technique circulating in the River Domain, and there seem to be some differences between them...’

’So, what criteria are used to differentiate these Breathing Techniques? Wait...’

Roland’s brow slowly furrowed as he recalled the meaningful tone Gandar and Mr. Colin had used when they parted.

’Tonight... could something unexpected happen?’

’Why did both Lord Gandar and Mr. Colin coincidentally warn me not to go out?’

Although doubts swarmed his mind, his tense nerves gradually relaxed after recalling the heavily guarded elite Guards in the Sea Pearl Hall, as well as the immense power Gandar had displayed as an Extraordinary Professional.

Before long, his breathing became even and deep, and he sank into a deep sleep.

An unknown amount of time passed before Roland’s eyes suddenly shot open on the bed.

After a somewhat weary yawn, he stood up to stretch his muscles.

’My strength should be about eighty percent recovered.’

Feeling the Power flowing within him, Roland mused to himself,

’It seems that after activating [Fermented Battle Intent], as long as I don’t exceed my body’s limits, the recovery speed is much faster than I expected.’

Just as he was pondering this, a strong pang of hunger came from his stomach.

’I should get something to eat.’

Glancing at the dusky sky outside the window, Roland shook his head and walked toward the door.

His footsteps made a faint rustling sound on the silky rug.

However, the sound lasted only for a few breaths before it abruptly stopped.

Roland froze, his brow tightly furrowed, and he strained his ears to listen to his surroundings.

After a moment of silence, he slowly drew the Mithril Longsword from his waist, his vigilance instantly reaching its peak.

The reason was simple.

It was far too quiet all around him.

If it were just the Sea Pearl Hall that was quiet, that would be understandable; after all, it was currently King Morne’s lodging.

But for the entire Distant Harbor to be plunged into a deathly silence—that was extremely unusual.

He clearly remembered Dalko saying that the Sea God Festival was Distant Harbor’s most important annual celebration, and the local residents often celebrated late into the night.

But right now, the sky outside indicated it was still early, far from the dead of night.

Thinking of this, Roland moved to the window with light steps, cautiously peering outside.

The scene before him made him freeze.

The entire street seemed to have been instantly frozen by some invisible force.

Festival banners still swayed gently in the breeze, and unextinguished lanterns cast a warm glow in the twilight, but the street that should have been bustling was completely empty.

Food on the stalls was still steaming faintly, and an overturned wine cup dripped liquor slowly down a wooden table, as if someone had been raising a toast just a moment before.

Scattered streamers and masks lay strewn across the ground, as if the celebrating crowd had been forcibly snatched away by some power.

What was even eerier were the signs of things interrupted midway.

A puppet theater’s curtain was only halfway drawn, a puppet’s arm still suspended in mid-air. Skewered fish on a street-side grill were half-charred, with no one to turn them. There was even a chair rocking slightly, as if someone had just hastily stood up and left.

The entire city was as if a pause button had been pressed, leaving only Roland standing by the window, staring out at the abrupt, deathly silence.

A bone-chilling cold shot up his spine to the nape of his neck.

Roland’s gaze unconsciously shifted to a pull-cord on the wall.

A brass bell hung there, glinting strangely in the dim light.