Feng Derick stood on the second floor of the manor, just in time to see the early-rising farmers already working in the fields. The golden morning sun was so dazzling that Derick squinted his eyes.
“What a pity… it’s not my turn to enjoy this beautiful day.”
Derick felt a bit regretful. He had crossed into this world for several days and had initially adapted to this new identity. In this world ruled by nobles, although the material conditions were as backward as the Middle Ages, the life of the aristocrats was still quite comfortable. As a descendant of a baron, Derick was also considered a noble.
Unfortunately, as the second son of the family, none of this was for him to inherit. The manor before him was entirely unrelated to his family. For the sake of his future, however small the hope of promotion might be, Derick's father sent him to the local Earl of Perez’s household as a knight's squire.
As a local powerful earl, he could afford to support a well-armed knightly order. Independent nobles in the area and vassals of the Earl of Perez often sent their second sons here as knightly squires. One reason was to establish connections, and the other was to seek a future. After completing a series of knightly training, whether joining the Earl of Perez's knightly order or using this experience to pursue other careers, it would be an excellent choice. Even if he returned home to assist his brother, a knight trained by the earl's household would be respected.
As his predecessor, naturally, the first choice was to join the Earl of Perez's knightly order, looking for opportunities to establish achievements and become a noble of the fief. For the current Derick, this seemed like a perfect choice, provided that… there were no cheats involved.
Derick shifted his gaze; the task here was just beginning. The final lesson of knight training involved independently training a group of militiamen. As a knight, having proficient martial skills was enough to earn a place. However, one could not afford to be ignorant in other areas. Otherwise, one might end up living their life merely as a qualified thug.
“Panel!”
With Derick’s thought, a light screen unique to him suddenly appeared before his eyes.
Feng Derick
Profession: Knight Level 5 (11/100)
Experience Pool: 0/100
It was simple to the point of being shocking. If this was all the data he had, Derick figured he would have to go home and farm.
In reality, after a few days of exploration, he had grasped the general effects of this golden finger. First, it provided real-time feedback on progress. Training could enhance knight experience, and daily training would yield overflow experience points that could help boost levels. The most intuitive effect of leveling up was the increase in personal abilities. Moreover… it wasn’t just effective for him.
After a simple wash-up and finishing breakfast sent by the manor's servants, Derick headed to the training ground. This training ground belonged to the Earl of Perez and was one of his estates. The entire manor was farmed by serfs, numbering at least four to five hundred people. Due to the rampant bandits and various dangers in this era, there was naturally a standing guard.
However, in the manor, there were only five full-time soldiers, while the rest were temporary conscripted militiamen and farmers wielding pitchforks. Derick's task was to complete a militia training. The time frame was one month, and the number of trainees was merely a squad of ten.
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By the time Derick arrived, the disorganized militiamen were just managing to stand up. Even with several days of relatively adequate nutrition, they couldn’t quickly strengthen themselves. As for their mental willpower… that was an even bigger mystery.
Fortunately, Derick had enough patience and approached, using a short stick to prod each one who stood unevenly. “Stand straight, line up!”
Derick's training was very straightforward: they needed to line up, distinguish left from right, and front from back, raise their spears to thrust, and then practice their physical fitness. Any other training would be a waste; after all, they were just a squad of militiamen, not that complicated, nor did it need to be.
The dull, tedious training continued, and the level was merely average; any person who had undergone a complete knight training course could do this. What was rare was the keen sense during the training process, finding a better training rhythm, which could be considered a talent.
However… Derick secretly opened the data panel again. The simple homepage remained unchanged. But flipping to the second page, the army section revealed its status.
“Farmer squad → Militia squad.”
After a few days of training, the panel finally acknowledged the change. It even expanded to show each militiaman's avatar vividly, including their names and basic stats. Of course, the most important part was the experience pool.
At first, the word “militia” was still somewhat vague, but as training progressed, it gradually became clearer. Finally, the profession was fully established. Derick thought about expanding the information of the hardest-working militiaman, and a simple panel appeared before him.
Pitchfork
Profession: Militia Level 1 (2/100)
Experience Pool: 1/100
The normal experience gained from training was 2 points, with 1 point overflow stored in the experience pool. He tried adding the overflow experience to the level, and the panel changed instantly.
Pitchfork
Profession: Militia Level 1 (3/100)
Experience Pool: 0/100
He closely observed the situation of the militiaman named Pitchfork, but he could hardly see any changes, nor was there any reaction to his added points. “It seems that without the panel, there won't be any special reactions,” Derick silently noted. Of course… if he added a lot at once, perhaps there would be changes?
But with his caution, he would only progress gradually, ensuring that no flaws were evident. As for using the power of the experience pool to create illusions? In this medieval-like world, religion was a double-edged sword that could lead to backlash. After all, this panel couldn’t let him dominate the world; it was better to develop in a low-key manner.
The militiamen trained for only a short time each day, just one morning. Lunch provided a coarse meal, which, while lacking in oil, was enough to fill them up. Under Derick’s intervention, they could accumulate between ten to twenty experience points a day. With the interference of supernatural powers, the training progressed rapidly.
Although it became harder to gain experience as training continued, a month’s time allowed this group of militiamen to reach levels 3 to 5. Based on Derick's experience, they were already comparable to militiamen who had undergone six months of full-time training. In reality, many village guards were not even as skilled as this squad of militiamen.
After all, they could barely coordinate their movements, their skills and stamina were up to standard, and if they encountered a few battles and continued training for a few more months, they could even compare to seasoned veterans with 3 to 5 years of experience.
The panel's attributes were also limited; for instance, a level 5 militiaman might excel at spear thrusting but could be taken down by a farmer with a pitchfork in a one-on-one fight. Furthermore, becoming a militiaman didn’t mean they would stop farming.
So, the panel could only serve as a reference. In fact, Derick felt that the panel's abilities were already quite extraordinary. Excluding combat experience and willpower, it had increased the training efficiency by four to five times. After all, a normal person would experience fatigue during training; simply doubling the training volume wouldn’t yield double the results, and there was no panel to reutilize the overflow experience.
In summary, Derick felt that he could make a real effort now.