Before him lay a floor strewn with shattered items, remnants of his fury.

"Master, we are currently at Green Castle. Our main purpose here is to secure the iron mine as per the lord's instructions... so please avoid unnecessary conflicts," one of the guards cautioned, fearing his next move.

"I know! I'm not an idiot!" Olysis snapped, his anger gradually subsiding at the guard's well-meaning reminder.

"Hmph! If it weren't for the crucial role that iron mine plays in my father's plans, we would have swallowed this insignificant Green family long ago. And that woman... how dare she treat me this way!"

The mere thought of Freya's cold and beautiful face reignited Olysis's smoldering rage.

"Master, in the end, she's just a woman. As long as our plan succeeds, does she really matter?" the guard consoled the viscount's second son, trying to calm him down.

With a slow breath, Olysis regained his composure, a glint of malice in his eyes. "Once the plan is complete... Green Castle, the baron... they will all perish! And that woman, I will make her regret being born female!"

In an empty room, Freya, clad in brown hunting gear, sat quietly on a chair by the sword stand, her eyes closed. Her hair, damp with sweat, clung to her face, and her modest chest heaved with heavy breaths, evidence of intense training.

Before her lay a familiar cross wooden sword and two identical red books. One was "On the Practicality of Noble Swordsmanship," and the other, painstakingly found in the library, was "Fencing Exercise Methods," both authored by the same person.

As her strength returned, Freya opened her eyes and frowned at the two books. Realizing the limits of basic swordsmanship, she had intended to seek the baron's guidance. However, she reconsidered, knowing that the baron's grand and powerful style was too different from her own.

Aware of the consequences of adopting an unsuitable sword style, she noted that while her strength hadn't increased significantly, her agility and flexibility now matched the baron's. This meant she had to pursue the path of swift swordsmanship.

Reflecting, Freya found that the noble swordsmanship outlined in "On the Practicality of Noble Swordsmanship" suited her current abilities and experiences best. "Perhaps I should give it a try," she mused, touching the red book. "Otherwise, I'll have to take my chances at the noble academy Father mentioned."

"Fencing Exercise Methods" was much thicker, filled with various techniques and training elements. Although not as effective as personal instruction, it was detailed enough for Freya to deduce its content accurately.

After a quick scan, she committed its contents to memory. Flexing her wrist, Freya stood and picked up her wooden sword. With a sharp exhale, her eyes suddenly focused.

A slight whistle of wind followed as she lunged a meter forward, her cross sword's tip pointed straight ahead. Her speed lifted her golden hair momentarily before it settled.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"This is a lunge!" she observed, her eyes serious. "Next is... a double lunge..."

A swift thrust, faster than before, sent her sword flying towards the target again, the tip emitting a faint sound as it cut through the air. She then leaped back, her sword quickly retracting and slashing upward, followed by another rapid strike.

In under two seconds, she executed four precise strikes at the same spot. She seamlessly transitioned between guard, pursuit, evasion, and counterattack positions, each move swift and precise, like a fierce wind.

Breathing heavily, Freya resumed her seat, exhausted from the intense exercise. "To think, just three minutes drained all my energy... It seems fencing demands not only agility and flexibility but also explosive power. Otherwise, I'd collapse before defeating my enemy."

Half-lying in the chair, she unbuttoned her top, revealing her damp skin and white chest, the tight hunting outfit constricting her heavy breaths.

This fencing method was much more challenging than basic swordsmanship but far more powerful. The book claimed that mastering fencing could create moves as elegant and deadly as a waltz of blades, shattering everything in its path.

Though Freya didn't know if the author, the noble swordsman Leonardo, ever achieved this, his pursuit of fencing perfection was undoubtedly formidable. Fencing required less strength than basic swordsmanship, favoring precise, rapid thrusts and slashes, often in quick succession, easily drawing opponents into a relentless rhythm.

After a brief rest, Freya gained a preliminary understanding of this swordsmanship. Noticing the approaching dusk, she decided to report to the baron about the second son of the Belta family's earlier provocation.

She tidied up, sheathed her wooden sword, and left the room.

The baron's private study was modest, with two bookshelves filled with books and a full suit of silver armor hanging nearby, glinting in the candlelight. This room served both for the baron's work and for discussions.

At that moment, the baron and Olysis sat at a round table, each with a white cup, the drinks inside cooled but still fragrant with mint. They had been conversing for some time.

Sipping his drink, Olysis frowned slightly before smiling. "Uncle Green, my father is determined to secure the iron mine on your land. Our family has spared no expense."

"Indeed, the viscount's offer is very tempting. If it's genuine, I will consider it," the baron replied calmly, his tone revealing nothing.

Watching the baron's impassive expression, Olysis grew frustrated. He had been trying to persuade the baron with his father's offer, a deal so lucrative that only a fool would refuse. Yet, the baron remained noncommittal, offering no indication of agreement.

Unable to fathom the baron's thoughts, Olysis gritted his teeth. "Uncle Green, what's there to consider? If you find the offer insufficient, just name your price, and I'll inform my father."

"Hmm..." The baron frowned slightly, as if contemplating something. Seeing this, Olysis's hopes rose, only to be dashed by the baron's next words.

"If there's nothing else, please leave," the baron said coldly.

"You..." Olysis's eyes widened in shock at the baron's blunt dismissal. Though he wanted to lash out, he restrained himself, knowing the baron's superior strength. Rising to his feet, he glared at the baron. "Fine! I'll relay your response to my father. Beware of the consequences."

The baron waved dismissively, signaling the end of the conversation. Even as the viscount's son, Olysis couldn't afford to challenge the baron openly. If not for avoiding unnecessary conflict, the baron could have ended Olysis's life then and there, leaving the viscount no choice but to accept it.

With a heavy slam, Olysis left the study, his face dark with anger. Outside, his four guards and a bear-like man named Howard Bailey waited. Without a word, Olysis stormed off, followed closely by his guards, who likely guessed what had transpired. Howard watched them leave, expressionless, lost in thought.