As an NPC, having a lot of skills is quite reasonable, right?

The cold wind howled through the rift valley as Moen stood at the camp entrance, holding his ironwood sword.

In the distance, twelve mutated corpses that Gray had deliberately left behind were wandering aimlessly in the darkness.

Moen picked up a piece of gravel, flicked his wrist, and the stone hit the nearest rotting corpse on the head with pinpoint accuracy.

The corpse turned around, and in the moonlight, one could barely see that its muscles were swollen, clearly indicating that it was a mutated corpse with enhanced strength.

Startled, it roared and charged at Moen, each step leaving a deep crater in the ground.

Fortunately, the other corpses were scattered and were not attracted to the area.

Moen did not retreat, but charged forward, his wooden sword slashing hard at the corpse's shoulder.

However, the wooden sword struck it with a dull thud, and the recoil made Moen's hand go numb.

Moen immediately sensed something was wrong and dodged the heavy punch coming from the rotting corpse.

"madness."

On the watchtower, Gray, holding a flask, leaned against the edge and pointed, "Since the sword you're holding has no blade, use it for thrusting, concentrating your power on one point."

"Joints, eye sockets, and throat are all weak points; don't try to cut its muscles with a stick."

Moen realized the tactical mistake long before Gray spoke and quickly changed his habitual thinking.

As the corpse swung its fist again, Moen ducked into its embrace, thrusting his wooden sword straight at the corpse's cervical spine.

The pointed wooden sword, at extreme speed and precise angle, unleashed powerful penetrating force.

The sword tip pierced precisely into the spine, which had little flesh to protect it, producing a crisp cracking sound.

The incredibly strong, decaying corpse instantly lost control of its body, collapsing to the ground like a lump of mud, unable to get up again.

Moen then stomped on its head, crushing it.

[Slayed: Mutant Corpse Lv.11]

Experience points gained: 210

Because Moen had already farmed all the fragments of this monster before, no loot dropped this time.

Furthermore, because the mutated corpse is an elite monster, it has unique conditions for unlocking statues.

[Refuse to Recycle: Use "Frozen Shatter" (freeze and then shatter) to deliver the final blow]

The condition is that the mutated corpse must be frozen and killed using ice magic, but now Gray is asking Moen not to use any skills, and Moen doesn't want to break this rule and lower his standing with the old man.

You can kill monsters again, but it's not so easy to restore a lost favor level.

"Forget it, let's focus on improving our skills first."

After getting rid of a few cumbersome power-type monsters, trouble began.

A nimble, enhanced zombie that crawls on all fours like a spider has its eyes on Moen.

It was incredibly fast, leaping back and forth between the rifts. Although Moen's agility was already quite high, because he had focused his stat points on stamina, he couldn't keep up with its pace.

"hiss!"

A dark shadow flashed by. Although Moen tried his best to dodge, his wooden sword missed its mark, and his sleeve was instead torn by its claws.

What nonsense are you spouting?

Gray's voice came again, tinged with sternness: "If your eyes can't keep up, use your ears; if your body can't keep up, rely on your senses."

"Don't chase after its shadow. It's a monster, driven only by primal fleshly desires. What you need to do is wait for it to come to you."

"Adjust your breathing and pay attention to your footwork."

Gray's words were like a bucket of ice water, instantly waking Moen up.

So that's it. He finally realized where the awkwardness he had felt during battles all along came from.

As a former top player, his combat logic is based on data and trial and error.

In the eyes of players, death is nothing more than a data reset.

Because he was not afraid of death, he lacked reverence for death; because he could start over, his attacks lacked a sense of ferocity.

His technique is like a floating pavilion in the air; although it is magnificent and precise, it lacks a foundation called the instinct for survival.

What Gray taught was not how to perform flashy maneuvers, but the invaluable experience gained by an old man who had spent decades fighting his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, with countless scars.

Moen immediately stopped the pointless chase, stood still, and closed his eyes.

His breathing quickly calmed down, and the sounds of the wind around him seemed to become clearer: the sound of rubble rolling, the scraping of the rotting corpse's claws on the ground, and even the nauseating panting of the rotting corpse.

To the left rear, the sound of sharp claws cutting through the air!

Moen turned slightly, took a small step to the right rear with his left foot, and held the wooden sword horizontally in front of him.

This move blocked the corpse's wrist. Before the corpse's claws could press down, Moen simply turned sideways and tilted the wooden sword.

The impact, which had not yet subsided, caused the rotting corpse to fall heavily backward onto the ground.

Moen opened his eyes, turned around, and thrust downwards.

The sword pierced the eye socket, shattering the corpse's brain, and the battle ended.

Moen looked at the corpse on the ground, feeling as if he had touched something just a moment ago.

"Interesting." On the watchtower, Gray took a swig of wine, a smile playing on his lips.

This kid's comprehension is simply outrageous. He only needs to give a word of guidance on many techniques, and Moen can immediately grasp them and apply them in actual combat.

This talent is even more terrifying than Arya's back then.

As time passed, the moon gradually sank in the west, and the eastern sky began to lighten with the first light of dawn.

Inside the canyon, the last rotting corpse lay on the ground, and Moen sheathed his sword and stood there.

The oak sword in his hand, apart from some wear on the tip, was still as clean as new, and not even stained with much putrid bodily fluids.

This means that every attack he made afterward was precise and effective, without a single unnecessary movement.

[System Notification: Through the guidance of a Saint-level expert and practical experience, your combat skills have been elevated.]

Congratulations on learning the passive skill: Silent Discipline

[Skill: Silent Discipline (Passive)]

[Rank: Mortal]

[Description: A required combat skill for Judgment Knights; true judgment is often silent, just as death needs no fanfare.]

【Effect】

[Silent Execution: When you attack enemies with sword-type weapons, your critical hit rate is increased by 15%]

[Potential Energy Control: Your parry judgment no longer relies solely on Strength, but you can use technique to deflect 20% of the impact force]

"Great stuff!" Moen looked at the panel, overjoyed.

Although this passive skill does not directly increase attack power, it greatly enhances actual combat, especially the force-dissipating effect, which gives him the ability to challenge high-strength bosses of higher levels.

Unexpectedly, old man Gray taught him this skill right away. Although this skill does not involve divine power, it is still considered an internal skill of the Church of Judgment and cannot be passed on casually. Old man Gray is really kind!

Moen carried the wooden sword and walked back to the camp step by step.

Gray had already jumped down from the watchtower and walked to the door, waving a half-empty jug of wine in his hand.

"Well done." The old knight handed over the wine jug. "Half an hour faster than I expected."

Moen took the flask and, without any hesitation, tilted his head back and took a swig. The spicy liquor went down his throat and took away all his fatigue.

He wiped his mouth and laughed, "A good teacher produces excellent students. The old man taught me well, and of course, my foundation wasn't bad either."

"Hahaha! You've got a thick skin!" Gray burst into laughter.

He found himself feeling exceptionally comfortable around this unruly kid.

After laughing, Gray said seriously, "The foundation is almost there. Now it's time to increase the intensity."

Moen's eyes lit up, and he offered, "I know a good place nearby. There's a [Sulfur Cave] west of Nohanville. The terrain there is complicated, and the monsters are very troublesome. I heard there's even a [Molten Throat] deep inside the cave!"

"Molten Throat?" Gray seemed to remember something upon hearing this.

"You mean that kind of Molten Throat with a huge mouth and flames flowing from its body?"

"Yes." Moen nodded in response.

"Great! That's fantastic!" Gray rubbed his hands together excitedly.

"That thing's [Flaming Gallbladder] is a real gem! I've heard that when used to make liquor, it's several times stronger than wolf blood liquor! I've wanted to try it for ages, but it's always been out of stock on the black market."

He immediately decided, "We'll go there tomorrow! But..."

Gray looked at Moen, his tone turning stern:

"Since this is special training, there must be rules."

"Tomorrow you are only allowed to bring recovery potions, no antidotes."

"Huh? No antidote?" Moen was taken aback. "It's full of sulfur gas in there."

"Don't worry, you won't die."

Gray waved his hand and explained, "Since there are monsters living in the cave, there must be air currents running through it, so the poison gas isn't everywhere."

"What I want you to practice is controlling your breathing and sensing the airflow in combat."

"As for the high temperature."

Gray glanced at Moen's equipment: "With this mammoth leather armor and your physique, you're untouchable."

Perhaps fearing that Moen still had doubts, the old knight patted the holy-marked greatsword at his waist, which had never been drawn, and added, "Don't worry, with me here, I guarantee you won't be in danger."