Witch's Embrace

"The Witch's Convent" by DaoistaHADNk

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One month later.

This was originally Die's room, but it had now been transformed by Hawthorne into another building called the "Training Ground." Thus, it now looked like a small gym, with treadmills, heavy barbells and dumbbells, and adjustable benches. At first glance, it seemed no different from a modern gym.

However, on the other side, there were also makeshift archery targets, and various poundage longbows hung on the walls. Below were arranged a row of longswords, stilettos, greatswords, and other unsharpened metal weapons, indicating that this place could be used for physical training as well as weapon skills!

Currently, Hawthorne was standing in the center of the Training Ground, shirtless and wearing weights to simulate real armor. In his right hand, he held a metal longsword, and on his left arm was strapped a small round shield. Following Die's teachings, he was trying to control the sword and shield with his magic power instead of the abilities of the "Pact of the Blade," allowing him to direct the blade without using the muscle strength in his arms.

This was the training method for a Spellblade, and once he fully mastered it, he would obtain this advanced occupation.

He had been training like this for a month. After all, this was based on the methods Die had given him for specialized training, not directly receiving power and knowledge from a powerful entity of the Shadow Abyss. Therefore, even with the assistance of the Training Ground, he required a significant amount of time for practice to master it.

However, he wasn't anxious. After all, all six witches in the convent had already been subdued by him, and Selene didn't return often. So now, this place was completely under his control, allowing him to learn, train, and develop at a leisurely pace.

The exhaust fan at the top of the Training Ground rotated automatically, keeping the air fresh in the room. The afternoon sunlight streamed down on his body, and his previously emaciated physique now had some noticeable muscle definition.

During this month of training, his physical condition had also improved further. Not to mention, wearing a full set of weights and doing vigorous exercises here every day was naturally much better for improving his physique and cardiovascular function than sitting in the study reading books.

A drop of sweat trickled from his forehead, running down his cheek, turning his silver hair into strands that stuck to his forehead, and his back was already soaked in sweat.

He had been training for two hours without taking a moment's rest and was now quite fatigued. However, the physical fatigue brought about a mental exhilaration. He felt his soul was incredibly sensitive, skillfully controlling the flow of every inch of magical power, using it instead of muscle strength to direct the sword as he swung it—

Whoosh—!

Suddenly, the longsword in his hand swept through the air, then quickly twisted, creating a flourish with the blade.

Throughout this process, he did not exert any muscle strength in his arms or hands, but that heavy metal longsword moved as flexibly as his fingers, responding to his thoughts!

Success!

Hawthorne sheathed the sword, then opened his eyes, breathing slightly faster, with his heart filled with joy.

He then opened the system, and sure enough, a new feature had appeared.

Hexed Warrior: You can continuously apply your will to your weapons. When you use non-heavy melee weapons, you can use your casting ability instead of your physical strength to drive their movements. If you later choose the Pact of the Blade, this effect will extend to each of your Pact Weapons, with no restrictions on the type of weapon.

In gaming terms, this description means that when using melee weapons, you use your spellcasting attribute to replace strength for various checks—such as whether you can lift certain weapons, whether you can respond in duels, and calculating damage numbers, and so on.

Hawthorne's casting attribute—his charisma—was as high as twenty points, putting him at the pinnacle of mundanity!

This indicated that he could smoothly use any weapon without barriers!

Filled with joy, he removed his shield, then took down a greatsword over two meters long and weighing more than six kilograms from the wall. He grasped it with both hands, linked it to the Pact of the Blade's power, and then began to swing it.

At this weight, the greatsword had nearly lost its practical significance, as its heavy weight made it difficult for even a two-hundred-pound strongman to handle it skillfully.

However, at this moment, under the influence of magical power, it was as light as a small stick, freely swinging up and down in Hawthorne's hands, cutting through the air with a whooshing sound.

After playing around for a bit, he returned the sword to its place, feeling no exhaustion in physical strength or magical power, as if he was using his fingers with ease. His expression was extremely satisfied.

Thus, starting today, he could completely call himself an excellent melee fighter...

Oh, well, not yet. After all, his physical condition still hadn't reached the average level of melee adventurers.

Thinking this, he opened his attributes panel again.

Host: Hawthorne

Gender: Male

Race: Human Subspecies (Green-Silver Clan)

Age: 15

Height: 1.71m

Weight: 60kg

Strength: 8

Agility: 9

Constitution: 10

Intelligence: 13

Perception: 12

Charisma: 20

Occupation: Spellblade Level 4

Supernatural Gift: Poison Immunity Gift

Professional Abilities: Pact Magic, Hexed Warrior, Curse of the Spellblade, Eldritch Invocation, Pact of the Blade

Remaining Mana: 17/17

Highest Spell Slot: Second Circle

Eldritch Invocation: Eyes of the Rune Keeper, Magic Energy Will

Specialization: Extended Effect Spell

Spells:

Cantrip: Blade Ward, Magic Missile, Light, Shocking Grasp

First-Level Spells: Create/Destroy Water, Mage Armor, Shield, Absorb Elements, False Life, Sleep Spell

Second-Circle Spell: Create Wind

Remaining Purification Points: 4729

A month of diligent training had improved his constitution a bit, and he had also undergone considerable growth in height and weight. However, he still only reached the level of a normal human, remaining some distance away from those excellent melee adventurers.

It was like that Kentez, who was as sturdy as a wild boar, seemed completely unharmed after withstanding five or six of his Magic Missiles that night, even while enveloped in poison gas; it didn't affect his combat ability at all.

This resilience in combat truly surpassed him by an unknown margin. Roughly estimating, his constitution must be at least sixteen points, if not higher!

At this thought, Hawthorne couldn't help but let out a sigh. There's a saying in the past that the rich are skilled in weapons while the poor focus on literature. Although in this fantasy world, the true wealthy have gone to learn magic, those who truly practice martial arts have a significant need for nutrition, and their expenses cannot be low.

Thus, in a poor place like the Slum, where ample nutrition cannot be obtained, the fact that Kentez could have such a robust physique and a Warrior level even higher than Portel's shows that he must have exceptional talent, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a martial genius.

However, this genius never accomplished anything in his life, spending his entire existence in this Slum, struggling alongside the lowest thugs, fighting desperately just to put food on the table, wasting his talent and abilities…

Thinking this, Hawthorne couldn't help but look out the window, through the walls, toward the direction of the Slum.

In this chaotic South Harbor District, how many exceptionally talented individuals are there who, because of this unreasonable world, have futilely buried their talents and led mundane lives?

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