Chapter 37: Moonlight Meditation Method

Library.

“Your Highness, there are seven meditation methods: Sun, Storm, Thunder, Moon, Dream, Earth, and Ocean.”

“The meditation method I practice is the Moonlight Meditation Method—it’s the easiest to begin with among all methods. My father, Viscount Hughes, hired a mage at great cost to teach it to me. I can teach it to Your Highness.”

Elise spoke softly.

Hearing this, Xia Mingyu immediately sat cross-legged on the floor, urging her with his eyes to hurry.

“Your Highness, not now. Beginners learning meditation methods—except Dream Meditation—must see the actual object in person. At midnight tonight, please come with me to the Zhong Lou to contemplate the moon.” Elise explained, half-amused, half-frustrated.

Coughing twice, Xia Mingyu stood up to mask his embarrassment.

He couldn’t be blamed—after all, as a man from Blue Star, how could he not be excited at the chance to become a noble mage?

“Anilia, come with me to read some books.”

“It is my honor, Your Highness.”

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

In the castle’s training yard.

Scorching sunlight poured onto the white stone floor, turning the entire yard golden-red.

Beneath the blazing sun, the crisp clang of clashing blades still echoed here.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Boge, clad in leather armor, wielded a steel longsword, relentlessly attacking the cloth-clad Knight Solin before him.

His swordplay lacked form, yet was fiercely sharp.

The ordinary steel sword in his hands moved like a venomous snake, striking from every treacherous angle at Solin’s eyes, heart, and groin—vulnerable points all.

Since Solin wore only a linen tunic with no armor, any strike from Boge’s blade would mean grave injury—or death.

Yet this was impossible.

Even as Boge’s attacks grew fiercer with each strike, Knight Solin still blocked them effortlessly, as if strolling through idle clouds.

Thud!

Seizing his chance, Solin raised his sword and struck upward, sending Boge’s weapon flying clean from his hands.

“I lost again…”

Boge stared at his empty hands. Exhausted beyond endurance, he collapsed onto the ground.

Sweat poured from him like a geyser, soaking his leather armor.

Again, his weapon was knocked away—just like when he failed to protect his lord before.

Boge clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his flesh, yet he felt nothing.

Shame, self-reproach, inferiority—these negative emotions had already dulled his pain.

“Boy, are you really using a sword for the first time?”

Knight Solin tossed him a wool towel and forcibly pulled him to his feet.

“The training yard floor under this sun is like a furnace. Lie there any longer and you’ll be cooked.”

A smile creased his weathered face, as if offering kindness.

“Yes, I’ve only used bows and daggers before.” Boge wiped his sweat and replied.

In just a few swipes, the pure white wool towel was already stained beyond recognition.

The boy’s face flushed with embarrassment—he’d never used such a fine towel before, coming from a village.

Seeing this, Knight Solin burst into laughter, snatched the towel away, and tossed it carelessly to a nearby attendant.

“To be honest, I thought you were just a lucky boy who’d soon be discarded by that noble Highness.”

“But now I see—it’s the Highness who has true insight, while we coarse men are blind.”

Knight Solin sighed.

In the battle just now, though Boge’s swordplay had no form, he always struck precisely at Solin’s weak points.

Solin had won easily, but only because of his overwhelming physical superiority. If their physical stats were equal, Solin might have been thrown into chaos—or even killed.

This wasn’t sword talent—it was more like a killing instinct.

Glancing at the boy's head, where the word "Hunter" glowed, Knight Solin's eyes flickered with regret.

“Boy, have you considered changing your vocation?”

Hearing this, Boge froze as he struggled to remove his armor for cooling.

“With your talent, if you train under me as a knight, with sufficient resources, you could advance to knight rank within a year at most.” Knight Solin said gravely.

“Can’t I continue advancing to the upper vocation of Hunter?” Boge asked in return.

“Hmph. From the way you speak, you don’t even know what the Hunter’s upper vocation is.” Knight Solin shook his head in disbelief.

“The next vocation after Hunter is Hunter Master—a lineage said to have been passed down by the Great Storm and Hunting Deity.”

“But for ordinary people, it’s no good path. If you follow it to the end, you might not even remain human.” Knight Solin spoke with deep implication.

“Sir Solin, could you explain in detail?” Hearing this first concrete information about vocation advancement, Boge immediately bowed and asked earnestly.

“Knights strengthen themselves through cultivation. But the Hunter Master path requires consuming potions made from monster organs—and eventually, you must replace your own organs with those of monsters, becoming neither man nor monster.”

“Among all vocations, Hunter Master is among the most despised. The stronger you become, the more you’re feared and discriminated against—and there’s a risk of losing your sanity.”

“Therefore, since you still have some talent, I advise you to switch to the knight path early. With your lord here, you’ll never lack resources.” Knight Solin said coolly.

Boge fell into long silence.

He finally understood why he had failed to advance for three full years, despite training relentlessly day and night.

To advance to Hunter Master, one must consume monster potions—and further advancement requires replacing organs with those of monsters. Was this path my father left me truly right for me?

His heart began to waver.

“Rather than hesitate, why not ask your lord? After all, as servants, we must obey our lord’s commands above all.”

Seeing the boy’s furrowed brow, Knight Solin offered his advice.

“Keep training.”

“Yes.”

Moments later, the clashing sounds of swords and blades echoed again through the training yard.

At dusk, the yellowing slanting sun finally set, replaced by a star-strewn night sky.

The massive castle, bathed in moonlight, looked especially majestic—like a silent, black giant.

The banquet hour had arrived.

In his room, Xia Mingyu took the white formal robe offered by the manservant and declined his assistance.

He had no interest in dressing in front of men—this wasn’t a northern bathhouse.

“Hmm, good.” He nodded in satisfaction at the tall, handsome youth reflected in the mirror.

“I wonder what Elise would look like in her formal robe…” Xia Mingyu thought suddenly.

He had read books in the library until afternoon, then returned to his room to rest after feeling dizzy and drained—partly because he had to attend Viscount Hughes’s banquet, partly because he needed to meet Elise at midnight for meditation.

“Take me to the grand hall.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The manservant bowed deeply.

(End of Chapter)