50: Snow Leopard and Training

A biting cold wind swept through, kicking up fine snow particles.

I keenly sensed a strange aura permeating the air—a scent mixed with blood and frenzy.

Alert!

The Dragon King's low growl and Randall's urgent whistle sounded almost simultaneously.

I immediately became vigilant.

I quickly plunged my spear into the snow, then took the short bow from my back, my gaze like a torch as I looked north.

John and George also quickly entered battle stances, their longswords drawn, blades glinting in the cold light.

On the distant hillside, a white shadow swooped down like lightning.

Its speed was so great that my pupils struggled to catch its outline.

Randall swiftly retreated in front of me, his shield raised high, forming a solid barrier.

The Dragon King circled in mid-air, its pure white body hidden within the mist.

Black Little Leopard arched his body, guarding my front right.

The barking of the two dogs was silenced by my command.

The white shadow was approaching at an alarming speed, but although its trajectory pointed towards the mist, it was not directly aimed at us.

This made me certain it couldn't see through the mist, but why was it rushing here so frantically?

I abandoned the idea of firing an arrow and instead chose to expand the range of the mist.

As the distance between the white shadow and the mist continuously shortened, with a whoosh, the white shadow crashed into the mist.

Within the mist, a majestic leopard appeared, its eyes glowing with a strange crimson.

The mist's concealment instantly made it lose its sense of direction, and it restlessly paced in place.

"I'll try to communicate with it," I whispered to my companions, slowly moving forward. Randall and the others maintained their vigilant stances, forming a protective circle around me.

...

At the edge of the dense forest, the mist gently enveloped like a thin veil.

I cautiously approached the lost leopard, stopping at an appropriate distance.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, gently pressed my hands together, and began to softly chant an ancient incantation.

As the incantation echoed, a warm and mysterious power surged from within me, swirling around my fingertips, finally transforming into subtle ripples that spread outwards.

When this power touched the white leopard trapped in the mist, its body trembled slightly, and its crimson eyes suddenly locked onto my direction, revealing a hint of confusion and unease.

"Lost leopard," I slowly opened my eyes, my gaze gentle and firm, and began to try to communicate with the leopard through my mind, "I am Ryan, a hunter and mage who seeks peace. I mean no harm, I only wish to communicate with you. Can you tell me what you have encountered?"

However, the leopard's reaction was beyond my expectation.

The crimson eyes did not flicker with understanding, but with madness and fear.

The leopard began to look around restlessly, as if driven by some force.

But in the mist, it could not find a clear target.

I could feel its inner struggle and pain; its sanity seemed to have been eroded by some unknown force.

"Calm down, my friend," I soothed softly, but the leopard's roar broke the silence, and it suddenly leaped forward.

Although the mist obscured its vision, its movements were still exceptionally swift.

Randall reacted quickly, blocking the fatal blow with his shield.

A strange sadness and helplessness welled up in my heart, and I decided to open a passage for the leopard to the outside world.

When it saw the passage out of the mist, it instinctively rushed out.

However, astonishingly, when it ran out of the mist, for some reason, it suddenly turned around and rushed back into the mist.

"Why? Why is this happening?" I murmured to myself.

I understood that this communication had completely failed; this leopard was no longer the elegant creature that freely roamed the forest, but had become a puppet controlled by some force.

I shook my head helplessly, raised my bow, and aimed at the blind leopard's eyes in the mist.

The arrow pierced the air, accurately penetrating its eyes, ending its suffering.

What I didn't know was that, at the moment the arrow struck the leopard, a mournful wail came from deep within the forest.

A blurry figure painfully clutched his eyes, stumbling backward.

After putting the leopard's corpse into the system space, I had everyone spread out, and I faced north alone, once again casting Original Consciousness.

I adjusted my breathing, then suddenly opened my eyes, which glowed with an unusual light.

I stretched out my hand and lightly waved it, sketching an invisible circle in the air.

Subsequently, a subtle power spread out from me as the center, instantly covering the forest within a six-li radius.

There were no abnormalities found, and I continued to sense until the spell ended, still finding nothing.

I frowned, wondering if I was overthinking.

Without dwelling on it further, I led the team to continue eastward for more than ten li, and found a dry, sheltered clearing in the forest to set up camp.

Once the camp was properly arranged, Randall once again became my sparring partner.

Today's practice was dual-sword techniques.

Under the setting sun, we stood facing each other, sword blades glinting in the afterglow.

The training began, and today Randall initiated the attack first, his longsword like a dragon, slashing with imposing momentum.

Facing this fierce strike, I shifted my body, flexibly avoiding the sword's edge, while simultaneously gripping my shortswords with both hands, counterattacking with astonishing speed.

The Fang Shortswords arced gracefully through the air, whistling as they aimed directly at Randall's vital points.

Randall reacted swiftly, parrying the blow with his longsword.

For the next hour, we exchanged blows, sword shadows intertwining.

I utilized the flexibility and ranged attack capabilities of the 'Vampire Wolf King's Fangs' shortswords, constantly changing tactics, sometimes close-quarters ambushes, sometimes long-range throws.

Randall, relying on his rich combat experience and deep strength, fought steadily, deflecting all my attacks one by one.

As the training deepened, my mastery of dual swords became increasingly proficient.

Whether it was the rapid slashes in close combat or the precise retrieval after a long-range throw, I demonstrated a deep understanding of this pair of shortswords.

And Randall also continuously adjusted his tactics in our exchanges to counter my increasingly tricky moves.

Yesterday's Red Tassel Spear training allowed me to primarily grasp the broad, aggressive, and courageous combat style; today's dual-sword practice mainly allowed me to ponder the unpredictable, nimble, and agile art of combat.

Two distinctly different combat styles are suitable for different combat environments and enemy types.

I don't know if martial artists with high skill would find different martial arts styles conflicting.

But when I immersed myself in it, it was as if by holding different weapons, I could adapt to the characteristics of each weapon.

It was as if, with the different feel of the weapons, the muscle groups activated throughout my body also changed.

When the hour of training ended, we were both drenched in sweat.

My eyes gleamed with excitement and satisfaction.

This practice not only improved my combat skills but also gave me a deeper understanding and mastery of the Fang Shortswords in my hands.

"Your dual swords are getting harder and harder to deal with," Randall said, wiping his sweat, "I've benefited greatly from it too."

I smiled slightly, and bowed to Randall with the etiquette of a gentleman.

This world is much more dangerous than I imagined, and I must always be prepared to face the next challenge.

Only, at that time, I did not know that in the journey ahead, we would experience not just fighting, but even richer and more colorful adventures.