Lu Mingfei, become the King of Elden!

Chapter 52 Daily life
The watchman chuckled, interrupting Angers:
"Alright, alright, that kind of stuff might be good for fooling those idiots on the board of directors, but you're saying it to me?"

"The alchemical warhead that the Storm Torpedo was supposed to carry was destroyed at the beginning of the war. The main body of the torpedo was probably just enough to graz the skin of that second-generation dragon.

"I want to hurt a Dragon King."

The night watchman shook his head:

"Only alchemical weapons of the 'Seven Deadly Sins' level can do it."

"So this is what's really worth studying."

Angers pulled out several photographs from his pocket and threw them in front of the Night's Watch.

"I seized them all illegally. According to the execution department's regulations, everyone involved in the mission was also required to keep quiet."

The old cowboy flicked off his cigar ash, stood up to check, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

In the photo, a boy, shrouded in a storm, leaps out of the river, his limbs covered in black scales, and the shape of bone spurs faintly visible at the end of his spine.

Its appearance was almost beyond human comprehension, as if a ghost or deity had returned to the mortal world in a human body.

The attic fell into a deathly silence, with only the sound of the night watchman guzzling tequila.

"Since the Secret Service began to have records, only three types of people have exhibited bone spurs in combat."

The night watchman held up three fingers:
"Deadpool, the first humanoid species, and..."

Angers slowly uttered four words:

"The Road to Becoming a God."

The old cowboy said:
"I remember all the information about 'Bloodlust' in the Lionheart Society was destroyed, right?"

Ang nodded slightly.

"I destroyed it myself."

However, we should not underestimate those who come after us. Chu Zihang, the current president of the Lionheart Society, is suspected of having mastered the 'Bloodlust' technique, which he most likely deduced himself.

But Mingfei is a freshman and a member of the student council, and he has no connection with Chu Zihang. Who will teach him 'Bloodlust'?

The old cowboy pulled a new bottle of liquor from the ice bucket on the table and popped the cap off with his bare hands:
"You mean"

Angers gently pressed the folding knife against the report cover, the cold glint of the blade flashing across his face:

Do you remember what happened in 1945?

"You mean that group of Japanese? No, that's impossible."

The old cowboy shook his head:
“He could not possibly be a descendant of the White King, nor could he possibly inherit the ‘royal blood’.”

The sound of raindrops hitting the attic window grew more and more frequent.

"He is certainly not a descendant of the White King. But his peak mental threshold is 3.2 times that of a normal S-rank, which briefly pushed him past the critical blood limit."

The principal used a folding knife to turn the page to a new report and said calmly.

"His mental attributes far surpass those of others, and his control over his body, muscles, and senses is almost superhuman. Theoretically speaking, it is possible to do so."

The watchman's hand trembled, and cigar ash fell onto the cover of Playboy.

"Good heavens, do you mean this child accidentally pushed open the door at the brink of death?"

Angers didn't reply, but simply picked up the tequila on the table and slowly poured himself a glass of wine.

“The Nibelungen Project can be put on the agenda now, using Constantine’s ‘Dragonbone Cross’. I will try to get Lu Mingfei to come into contact with the Bloodlust; he will be our ‘Hybrid Monarch’.”
-
Kassel College, Cold Weapon Training Hall. The air was thick with the mingled smells of sweat and metal. The whistling of wooden swords cutting through the air, the crisp clash of blades, and the stern commands of the instructors mingled together, jarring the eardrums.

Snapped!
There was a crisp sound.

Jason felt a sudden tingling and numbness in his wrist, and his fingers gripping the sword instantly lost their strength! The longsword clattered out of his hand and fell to the floor of the training hall.

Jason clutched his wrist, staring at Lu Mingfei with shock and disbelief.

The training hall was completely silent.

Even the sounds of practice from other areas in the distance seemed to have subsided. All eyes were focused on the S-rank freshman in the center of the arena.

He held the eight-sided Han sword, his expression a mix of helplessness and boredom.

Two moves, one to deflect the attack and the other to disarm the child, were made with almost too much ease. To those around them, it looked like an adult playing with a child.

This wasn't because the opponent was too weak. Jason de la Luna, who was facing Lu Mingfei, was a member of the Lionheart Society. Although he was Spanish, he possessed exceptional German swordsmanship and was virtually invincible among the first-year students due to his overwhelming strength. He was personally invited to join the Lionheart Society by its vice president, Lancelot.

But he was no match for Lu Mingfei.

For a long time, Lu Mingfei practiced swordsmanship, fought, killed, or was killed day after day in the border area. He abandoned morality, dignity, and everything related to civilization, all for two goals: "to survive" and "to move forward".

Lu Mingfei had already suppressed most of his "sensing", but in his eyes, his opponent's speed and reaction were still too slow.

The instructors had already reached the sidelines at some point.

He wasn't tall, but his eyes were sharp as an eagle's. He didn't look at Jason, but stared intently at Lu Mingfei, as if he were seeing this student for the first time.

"Lu Mingfei," the instructor's voice was deep, "who taught you swordsmanship...?"

Lu Mingfei opened his mouth, his mind flashing with the old knight's weathered face and the heavy feel of the Storm Knight's greatsword.

"...Self-taught, just practicing blindly."

He said vaguely.

The instructor clearly didn't believe him, but he didn't press the matter. He picked up the eight-sided Han sword from Lu Mingfei's hand, weighed it in his hand, and then looked at the extremely faint footprints Lu Mingfei had left behind when he moved.

"Lu Mingfei," the instructor's voice was low but clear, "what were you thinking when you held your sword?"

"what?"

Lu Mingfei looked completely bewildered:
"I wasn't thinking about anything."

The old knight had taught him that when you swing a sword, you swing a sword; when you kill, you kill. In battle, you shouldn't think about anything other than your opponent. Storm Swordsmanship has no fancy dodges or exaggerated parries, yet the Lost Knights can still roam freely in the borderlands, perhaps relying on their astonishing combat skills.

The instructor scrutinized him intently, as if assessing a weapon.

Lu Mingfei felt a little uneasy under his gaze and subconsciously wanted to scratch his head, but then lowered his hand halfway through.

The instructor shook his head, his tone resolute:
"You're wasting your time staying here."

His gaze swept across the entire training hall, finally settling on the more intense, more realistic sparring sessions taking place in the upperclassmen's area in the distance. He pointed and said:
"Starting tomorrow, report to the second-year 'Advanced Combat and Cold Weapon Application' course. I will explain it to Professor Schneider."

Lu Mingfei was stunned.

Second year? Advanced practical training? He just wants to quietly collect his credits!
“This is the best place for you.” The instructor interrupted him, his gaze falling on the calluses on the back of his hand. “There’s something in your swordsmanship.”

He paused and added:

"It's something truly useful. Don't waste your time here."

(End of this chapter)