A Guide to Becoming a God Starting from a Monastery

He also carried a weapon, a long, slender rapier, or what might be called a swift sword.

Sometimes there is no need for explanation, it is clear at a glance, like this moment.

Thomas didn't hesitate, he immediately drew out his sword and threw away the scabbard.

This swift sword is probably the opponent's weapon of choice. The previous broadsword was only used to ambush the opponent in competitions.

It was not early at this time, it was already dusk.

This is a wilderness. Although there are farmlands on both sides of the stream, it is winter and no one can be seen in the farmlands.

There was no one around, so there was no need for any disguise.

After killing someone and dumping the body into the river, with the current level of criminal investigation, it is guaranteed that no one will be able to find out who did it. It is even a question whether anyone is willing to bother with it.

The Middle Ages was a truly barbaric era.

Seeing the other party holding the sword in his hand, Rousseau slowly drew out his own sword.

"Thomas," he sneered. "You don't really think you can beat me?"

Thomas didn't say anything, but stared at the man. His movements were obviously different from when he held the broadsword.

As expected, the broadsword was not his proficient weapon.

"Or did I give you an illusion?" Rousseau laughed.

He was previously disturbed and unable to kill the kid, which made him feel angry. Now is the time to vent.

"Or do you think that you, a novice... at best just an ordinary swordsman, can fight against a strong opponent?"

"Did that coach named Giuliano give you some wrong ideas? For example, the warrior levels are vague, and a stronger opponent doesn't necessarily win. It's not like those magicians, where the level of strength depends on the level of the magic network they come into contact with."

Chapter 37 Savage Age 2

"This is the first time we meet today, Mr. Rousseau," Thomas said cautiously.

There was no point in trying to show goodwill now, because now that the other party had come, they were definitely going to fight to the death. But Thomas still couldn't figure out why.

Why target yourself specifically?

Thomas felt that he was too insignificant to be anyone's target.

Born as a farmer's son, he was now a student of a knight in a monastery. Thomas didn't believe that this level of status would arouse the jealousy of someone and make them want to kill him.

I haven't taken up anyone's position, so I don't need the other party to kill me at all costs.

Knights were an unappreciated link in the church system, and other novice monks were not interested in them.

So what was the key? Thomas couldn't figure it out.

Now is the best opportunity, because the way Rousseau looks at him is like looking at a dead person.

When facing a dead person, you won't be very vigilant because the dead person's mouth is reliable enough.

"Ah, you're asking why I killed you?" Rousseau smiled. "Well, I won't hide it from you. I take money from people and help them avoid disaster. I do this for money."

“Who is it?” Thomas asked.

"Ask God!" Rousseau sneered, but refused to say anything.

He had absolutely no doubt about this victory.

After all, the two sides had fought not long ago. Even when he was using the broadsword, which was completely unsuitable for him, he was able to win (although he was interfered with in the end, he was still confident that he would win).

Everyone knows that there is a big difference in combat effectiveness when using weapons that are convenient for you and weapons that are not convenient for you.

He stood at the bridgehead but did not attack because he knew Thomas was very fast.

If we left the bridge, this key location, and gave Thomas a chance to cross the bridge and escape, then it would be hard to say. No one could guarantee that they would be able to catch up.

Long-distance running speed has nothing to do with martial arts.

Thomas took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The situation was not favorable. The problem was that there were more than just Rousseau among the mercenaries; they were all in the same group.

Delaying wouldn't work. Thomas had no backup, but the enemy might have. Given that, they had no choice but to fight head-on.

In a life-or-death battle, there's no room for compromise. You must attack with your strongest moves.

He closed his eyes and forced himself into a meditative state. Now, the magical river was right beside him, within reach.

He hadn't touched it before, but now he reached out to do so.

When I reach out, I realize that although it seems within reach, it is still a short distance away. It may take several months, or even days of meditation, to truly touch it.

But he had no time, and Thomas mobilized a ball of divine power to infuse it without hesitation.

A few seconds later, Thomas exhaled and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with determination. The next moment, he rushed forward.

Here it comes! Rousseau sneered. As expected, he was a newbie, rather impulsive.

Thomas rushed forward, raised his sword with both hands, and slashed down with a desperate force.

This move was full of flaws. Rousseau grinned and retreated at the last moment before the long sword came down. He saw that perhaps because he was too young and too impulsive, Thomas had misjudged the distance.

He struck down too early, which gave Rousseau a perfect opportunity to counterattack.

Rousseau stepped back, out of the sword's range, then thrust his sword forward, ready to pierce the young man's chest when Thomas's strike missed and he had to retract his strength.

Everything happened just as he predicted, the tip of Thomas' sword cut through the air harmlessly right in front of his nose.

But unlike what he predicted, he did not get the chance to fight back.

Because a white energy wave visible to the naked eye spurted out from the tip of the sword, slashing forward like a crescent blade.

What is this? Qi-raising Slash?!

His thoughts were permanently frozen at this moment, as the sword energy sliced ​​through his head, chest, and abdomen, almost splitting his body in two.

Thomas stopped and gasped for breath.

Perhaps due to lack of experience, it was much more difficult to perform the Qi-raising Slash than expected.

Not only magic, but also a lot of physical strength were taken away by this blow.

But the lethality was undeniable. Rousseau was nearly broken in two, blood and viscera splattered all over the floor.

Thomas took a quick breath, then forced himself to calm down from the heat of battle and enter a meditative state.

The magical river still flows calmly and is still within reach.

He had already unleashed the Qi-Boosting Slash, and based on what he knew before, everything should have started over from the beginning. He should have been far away from the Demon Net again.

But the reality is that the distance has barely changed. In other words, he can still touch the magic network.

If he wanted, he could also switch to the next wave of Qi-raising Slash.

As expected... is this the effect of divine power?

Thomas hesitated, coming back to reality from his meditative state.

The pungent smell of blood was overwhelming, and the stench of blood was nauseating.

Contact with the first layer of the magic web would unlock three Qi-boosting slashes. He had already expended one, and the energy for the other two was stored in some indescribable way within his mind, or perhaps within his soul, ready to be unleashed at any time. However, if not unleashed, it would be stored forever.

This is magic...a wondrous and rare power!

Thomas thought about the battle. If it weren't for the bridge's unique terrain, he wouldn't have used the Qi-Boosting Slash.

Because the Swift Sword cannot parry against the sharp blade slashing from mid-air, the only option is to dodge. There are three ways to dodge: left, right, and backward. If you use the first two, the Qi Slash will also miss.

But this is a bridge. Rousseau is guarding the bridgehead, so he can only choose to retreat.

If he knew that Thomas was also a core player, if he knew that Thomas had mastered the Qi-raising Slash, then none of this would have happened.

The bottom line is that he underestimated the enemy.

In a life-and-death battle, one must be lenient with the enemy. He must not make the same mistake as Rousseau.

After a short rest, Thomas pushed the other's body into the river. Of course, before doing so, he searched the loot to see if there was anything valuable.

Sure enough, a purse was found, but inside it were not the various metal coins that Thomas was familiar with, but a few silver bars.

In addition, there is the opponent's swift sword.

This is a fine sword. Compared to Thomas's rusty sword, this Swift Sword is a high-end product that can be recognized at a glance.

Thomas knew that the sword was probably worth a lot of money, and that was why he couldn't keep it.

Looking at the setting sun, Thomas instantly decided what he should do. He turned around, changed direction, and headed towards the city.

He went to the cathedral every week to receive the sacrament, so he was very familiar with the way to the city and could not get lost even at night.

The blacksmith was a good businessman, which meant that he never cared about his customers as people, only about their money.

Chapter 38: Strategy 1

It was already late when we returned to the monastery.

Thomas was questioned at the abbey gate but ultimately cleared.

After all, he was a knight's apprentice, so it was normal for him to go to the blacksmith shop specifically to buy a sword.

It wasn't a good sword, either. It was clearly secondhand and poorly maintained. It matched Thomas's status.

Back inside the monastery, Thomas immediately went to find Rostislav.

The Ross man was still awake and opened the door as soon as Thomas knocked.

He was still a little surprised by Thomas's visit.

"Brother Rostislav," Thomas said bluntly. He pulled out his purse and took out three silver rods. "I want a box of potions."

Rostislav had previously quoted him a price of three florins for a box of ointment, and 30 florins for the formula.

He hadn't known what the silver rod was, but when he got to the blacksmith's shop, he learned that each rod was worth one florin. At least that was the exchange rate in that place.

That way, he could afford a box of ointment.

Rostislav stared at Thomas for a few seconds, then took the money and went back to his room. Ten seconds later, he handed Thomas a box of ointment.

As expected of a military man, he was honest in his dealings. This was a box of completely unused ointment.

"This is the only box I have left," Rostislav said. "Next time you need one, please let me know in advance. I'll have to spend a few days making a new one."

Thomas returned to his quarters with the ointment, and Joshua looked surprised.

"Thomas, are you back?"

"Is it surprising that I came back?" Thomas asked curiously. It would be surprising if I didn't come back, right?

"You don't know yet?" Joshua sighed. "Someone was killed."

"What?" Thomas asked. "What's going on?"

"They found two monks on the roadside outside the monastery. They were both killed by bandits." Joshua sighed. These days, God's authority is increasingly being disrespected. "Thank God, you're lucky you're okay!"

……

Outside the monastery, in a wasteland.

In those days, the practice of "rotating cultivation" was common. Due to backward agricultural technology, some arable land had to rest for several years after each round of cultivation before it could be replanted. Therefore, despite being farmland, weeds and shrubs could grow as tall as half a person. People lurking within could be invisible from outside.

This wasteland is close to the river and there is a big tree growing there.

It is very eye-catching during the day and can serve as a landmark even at night.

Two figures have arrived here, one is under a tree, and the other is hiding in the farmland, one is bright and the other is dark.

The night grew darker.

Two more figures walked quickly to a few meters in front of the figure and stopped.

These two men were burly men wearing tattered armor—not the metal kind, but the cheaper leather armor that regular soldiers wouldn't wear and was more popular among mercenaries. It was obvious at first glance that they weren't ordinary people.

These people obviously didn't have night blindness, as the two sides were only a few meters apart and didn't get any closer.

These are not some close friends.

"We've finished the work. Isn't it time to pay the bill?" said the leader of the two burly men in old leather armor.

"Do you know that you killed the wrong person? And now you have the nerve to ask me for money?" The figure under the tree spoke with emotion in his voice.