Chapter 89: Chapter 74: Shepherdess and Special Training

A short while later, he awoke in the dream once more.

This time, there was no lengthy exchange of pleasantries. He raised his sword and charged straight for the Shepherdess.

Raise, flick, cleave. Death!

Flow, jab, parry. Death!

Slice, thrust, press. Death!

Lunge and thrust, turn and cleave. Death!

Wake up, doze off, get killed by the Shepherdess.

Wake up, doze off, get killed by the Shepherdess.

Baron remained trapped in this cycle. He went from being unable to withstand a single move to barely enduring half a move, and then to surviving an entire offensive sequence.

It only took Baron a mere thirty-two lives!

On several occasions, the tip of Baron’s sword came within a hair’s breadth of flicking... a few strands of the Shepherdess’s dangling hair.

In contrast to Baron, whose eyes gleamed with madness right before each death, the Shepherdess’s expression was unnervingly placid. She was like a butcher in a dream who, with nothing better to do besides drink tea and admire flowers, simply killed people. Her heart was even colder and harder than her sword.

Her expression was indifferent. She just kept swinging her sword, using all sorts of uncanny attacks to dismember, behead, gut, or castrate Baron...

This last one made even Baron, long numbed to death and pain, instinctively cover his groin.

His face twisted into a grimace. He held up a hand to the Shepherdess, who was striding over to deliver the finishing blow.

"Stop, stop, stop! That’s a low blow! There are rules! You don’t hit a guy in the face, and you definitely don’t go below the belt, miss!"

"This is combat, sir," the Shepherdess said. "And in combat, one must be unscrupulous."

But the Shepherdess only said this much, her wrist twisting the hilt of her sword.

A flash of silver, like moonlight on the ocean’s surface. The Shepherdess’s longsword glinted, and Baron’s head hit the ground.

The Shepherdess watched as the man whose head she had just lopped off stood up again in the next moment. A flicker of emotion crossed her doll-like face.

The man’s voice came from the headless body. "Why is it so dark? I can’t see anything."

He felt his neck. "What the hell, where’s my head? The system must be bugged..."

As soon as he said it, he collapsed back into the Flower Sea. When he woke up again, he was already gripping his sword, charging at the Shepherdess once more.

A downward cleave.

The Shepherdess was expressionless. Just as she had countless times before, she sidestepped the cleave, flicked her longsword back, and thrust straight for the back of Baron’s head. The killing intent was sharp enough to cut his face.

But this time was different. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Baron blocked the Shepherdess’s longsword with his empty left hand!

The searing pain of the blade sinking into bone nearly made Baron pass out. The Shepherdess tried to pull her sword free, but the man had tensed the muscles of his left hand, his very bones "biting" down on the blade!

He had used the back of his head as bait! His left hand was the trap, and it had temporarily robbed the Shepherdess of her weapon!

In a life-or-death struggle, disregarding Tier and class, the outcome is already decided the moment one combatant loses their weapon.

Baron took a deep breath and smiled, though it was a pained one. "Just as you said, Miss Shepherdess, combat is about being unscrupulous."

Seizing the opportunity during the stalemate, he violently flung his left arm, wrenching the longsword from the Shepherdess’s grasp. He then counterattacked with his rapier. It was a blow he had planned for a long time, an upward flick channeling all his strength, aimed straight for the Shepherdess’s neck!

Then, a pair of hands, as slender and pale as lotus roots, pressed down on Baron’s head and instantly snapped his neck.

Baron died with his eyes wide open, watching the Shepherdess pull the longsword from his left arm. She wiped the blood from the blade with a handkerchief and asked softly:

"Sir, shall we continue?"

’I’ve been dancing on a knife’s edge for so many days, dodged so many false accusations and manhunts, and now I’m being looked down upon in a dream by a deadpan girl like you! This is intolerable!’

This time, without waiting for the Shepherdess to act, Baron manipulated his own blood, formed a Blood Blade, and stabbed himself in the heart!

Wake up, doze off, Flower Sea, grab a sword, and go get killed... go kill!

The slaughter (one-sided beatdown) continues!

Unconsciously, the twin moons outside the window had disappeared. The day of regression was over.

But Baron was tireless. He entered the dream again, ready to fight another three hundred rounds with the Shepherdess!

What he lacked right now were Combat Skills and the techniques of a real life-or-death battle. Having the Shepherdess teach him in his dreams was a godsend, exactly what he needed. How could he not gladly endure it?

’It doesn’t matter if my masochistic side is flaring up, as long as this helps me survive the fights to come!’

The next day, after a full night of being "tutored" by the Shepherdess, Baron woke up early. While eating in the main hall, he "happened" to run into Mayor Gorman, who had brought people for a visit.

Mayor Gorman introduced Baron to a Bounty Hunter he had brought with him.

As the Bounty Hunter sized Baron up, Baron was sizing him up as well.

Curly gray hair, a leather cowboy hat, a Hunting Outfit covered in slash marks, skin as rough as stone, and a pair of— 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Ludwig, an Advanced Silver Hunter from the First Hunter Association of Steel City. He’s hunted enough Demons to gather the ingredients for the Magic Potion to advance to Bronze Tier, and is just waiting for the Association’s approval to undergo the Magic Potion Trial."

Gorman said, "He’s come this time to take charge of the investigation into the Blood Therapy incident in Yan Nan Town."

"Blood Therapy?"

The mayor said: "To be frank, Mr. L, most of those Blue Blood Cultists suffer from the corruption sickness. The purpose of their ritual was not to resurrect the member of the Blood Race you mentioned, but to use the ritual to convert the sacrificial victim’s blood into that Blood Race member’s blood."

"Then, they would use the Blood Race’s blood to treat and slow the progression of their own corruption sickness."

Ludwig cut in coldly, "These Blue Blood Cultists have probably encountered the Undead of the Immortal Church. I can smell the aura of the Immortal Goddess on them."

"Mr. L, to make a long story short, I didn’t just come here with the mayor to pay you a visit. I have some questions that I need you to answer."