Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Lance's current status:

Strength: 18 (14+4)

Agility: 19 (15+4)

[Constitution: 19 (15+4)]

[Perception: 20 (17+3)]

Ground movement speed increased by 10 meters per second.

[Advantage in attack checks!]

[Advantages of Attribute Checking!]

Lance's current weapon status:

[Advantage in attack checks!]

[Damage has a +1 bonus!]

Now that there's a difference in attributes, Lance pointed the tip of his sword diagonally at the ground: "Lillian, come on."

Lillian was somewhat confused by Lance's actions and chose to launch an attack directly.

She charged forward at incredible speed, her longsword whistling through the air as it pierced Lance's chest.

This is the starting stance for the [Blazing Thrust] move in the Silverblade Technique, only without the fire enchantment.

Lance turned to the side, the blade grazing his chest.

With a flick of his wrist, the blade of his training sword struck Lillian's sword spine with a soft "clang," disrupting her rhythm despite the weak force.

Lillian took a half step back, adjusted her posture, and attacked again.

This time it was a horizontal slash, aimed at Lance's waist.

But Lillian's movements seemed far too slow to Lance at this moment.

Lance parried with his sword, and the two swords clashed, sparks flying.

"Not bad strength," Lance commented, pushing Lillian's sword away with a forceful movement.

"But it's a bit too slow, why aren't they changing tactics?"

"I forgot!"

Lillian was not convinced, so she changed her sword stance, turning her slash into a thrust, aiming straight for Lance's jaw.

Lance leaned back to avoid the attack, and at the same time kicked Lillian's wrist. Lillian hurriedly withdrew her sword.

The two traded blows for two and a half minutes.

"That's about it."

During a duel, Lance, disregarding all martial ethics, used...

[Supreme Slash!]

Lillian's training sword was kicked and flew out of her hand, landing on the ground with a clatter.

The training hall fell silent for a moment.

Lillian looked at her empty hands, then at the sword on the ground, and her face flushed red.

"I...I..."

Lillian stood there, head down, her fiery red ponytail drooping.

"Don't be upset," Lance smoothed her pigtails. "You're only a teenager, a level four warrior. It's already impressive that you were able to exchange a few blows with me."

Lillian looked up, her eyes brightening. "Really?"

"Really." Lance put the training sword back on the weapon rack. "More real than real gold."

"Moreover, the more fights a warrior has, the stronger he becomes."

"In other words, the more fights you've lost, the stronger you are."

"You lost to me, which means you've become stronger, so you should be happy!"

"Huh?" Lillian was dizzy.

"Is...is that so?"

"Of course," Lance nodded matter-of-factly. "Would I lie to you?"

Lillian blinked. "Yeah, you're right..."

"Slap slap slap"

Arya walked down from the second floor, and a soft round of applause rang out.

She walked over to Lillian, ruffled her daughter's hair, and said with a smile, "Did you hear that? Your teacher is praising you."

Lillian smiled sheepishly.

Lance looked at Arya: "Are you going to tell her about tonight's events now?"

"Um."

Arya nodded, her expression becoming more serious.

"Lillian, your teacher and I are going to deal with a cult's stronghold tonight. Do you want to come?"

Lillian instantly perked up: "I want to go! I want to go!"

Arya crouched down to be at eye level with her daughter. "But this time is different from last night. Last night, those were just gang thugs."

"Tonight's group consists of real cultists; they have priests and sorcerers. It's very dangerous."

"I'm not afraid!" Lillian said immediately.

"I know you're not afraid," Arya smiled, "but be careful. You and Sissa will provide support from the outside; don't rush in."

"good--"

"Mr. Lance," Arya handed Lance a small silver badge.

"Once your location is confirmed, you can click here, and I will receive a message confirming your current location."

Lance took the badge. "Okay, I understand."

……

Lance returned to Arya's study and continued to peruse the intelligence.

Cielsa sat down next to Lance, her brows slightly furrowed.

"My lord," she said softly.

"Are you really going to go scout alone tonight? That bishop... he's at least an elite priest, what if..."

"It's alright." Lance leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes to rest.

"The 'Hungry Hands' have been running rampant for years and have become an arrogant force."

He opened his eyes, revealing sky-blue pupils.

"An arrogant army is bound to be defeated!"

Cielsa pursed her lips, sensing something amiss with what she'd just said, but remained silent.

She simply twisted her fingers together silently and rested her head on Lance's shoulder.

After a while, she suddenly asked, "Sir, do you think Ms. Arya... will really do everything she can to help?"

"Yes," Lance answered confidently.

"She may have other demands, but on the issue of 'thirsty hands,' our interests are aligned."

Arya was caught in a dilemma: she wanted to enhance her family's honor, but she also cared about her daughter's safety. Destroying the "Hungry Hand" was a difficult task for her.

"What about the other nobles? What if Balfour and his ilk really get involved...?"

"Then let's pack it all up together..." Lance said calmly.

"They're all scum anyway. Cleaning them up will raise the average moral standard of the nobles in Rield City."

"That's true."

Lance unfolded the map Arya had given him and pointed to the location of the old textile factory.

"While the old textile factory is the main location, it's not certain that it's the venue for tonight's ceremony."

Lance flipped through the records of other outposts in the documents.

There are abandoned churches, underground wine cellars, and even a place that is nominally a charitable orphanage.

"An orphanage..."

Lance squinted.

The documents state that the "House of Dawn" orphanage was funded by a widow named Margaret Wayne.

Margaret was one of the three nobles on Arya's list who had connections to the cult.

"Using an orphanage as a cover, selecting sacrificial offerings, and killing on the spot... that's quite convenient."

Lance decided to go to the old textile factory first tonight, and if the bishop wasn't there, he would go to the House of Dawn.

As for Balfour's casino and Corwin's tax office, those can wait until later.

Cielsa left quietly, and then quietly returned.

She brought up a plate of sliced ​​fruit and gently placed it on the desk.

"Lord Lance, please have something to eat first," she said. "We'll be staying up late tonight."

Lance walked over, picked up a piece of apple, and put it in his mouth.

"Hmm, not bad, it's crunchy."

Sissa smiled: "Would you like another piece?"

"No, leave the fruit for now, I'll eat it when I get back."

Lance stood up.

"I should go now."

Sissa stood up and straightened his collar.

Her fingers were a little cold, and she moved very gently.

"You need to be careful," she said, only one sentence.

Lance nodded, turned and went downstairs, pushed open the door, and quickly disappeared into the night.