Asher wrapped his fingers around the knob of a wooden door and pushed it in. His eyes wandered over the small study, over the shelves with scrolls and books neatly arranged, over the odd stone table, and finally at the mirror.
The sight of the mirror shocked Asher because mirrors were a rare sight. Only one nation in Boundless produces glass and has mastered the technique of creating mirrors, and that nation was far away from the wasteland.
There was no way his father got such a treasured object.
This must have been from the period of Zenas, as he was the greatest Ashbourne in Asher’s opinion.
He walked into the room, running his fingers from one book to the other, one scroll to the other, while his eyes were fixed on his reflection on the mirror.
It was the first time he got a good look at his new body.
He looked like an 18-year-old young man with a chin as smooth as a baby’s bottom. He was already 22 but not a strand had popped out!
He couldn’t say his face was the most handsome face to ever exist, but he was definitely handsome. His grey hair matched his dull golden eyes, and both prominent features were seamlessly fitted into his face.
Looking at his face, Asher could see a warrior. His face wasn’t like that of a gigolo, despite being pale.
His frame was also worth 8 stars. Looking at himself, clad in white tunic tucked into his brown pants and brown boots, Asher smirked.
His arms were muscular and not as thin as in his previous life.
After admiring his looks, he looked at the stone table and saw a sunken palm print with foreign words etched above it.
The words were foreign and not the normal Tenaria language, but he could perfectly understand what was written.
“Palm stained with your blood.”
His brows knit together.
Asher leaned down and squinted. He discovered there was a tiny needle inside the sunken place. After deliberating for a while, he put his palm, and it pricked him, but his expression remained the same.
However, his teeth were clenched.
Shortly after, there was a soft rubbing, and the mirror went in and slid to the side, revealing a dark, narrow passage with stairs leading downward.
Asher descended and found a small space with a tome on top of a column and two longswords hung on the wall.
The swords were sheathed in black scabbards.
Ashbournes were known for being able to wield two swords with both hands.
They were ambidextrous, but Asher wasn’t. He just wasn’t right handed on both sides, no matter how hard he tried.
On the tome’s cover was ‘Shura Blade Battle Force Art’.
The moment Asher set his eyes on the name, his heart skipped a beat. This was battle force art for a swordsman, and it must have been from Zenas, the very first Ashbourne.
He flipped through the pages and saw different sword arts and how to train his body to match the insane requirements of the Shura Blade Battle Force Art.
First he must swing his sword a thousand times in the dark hours of the day, when the two moons were at their peak.
He was to attach stones to his limbs while training to build his strength, stamina, and speed.
‘What sort of cruel man was Zenas?!’ Asher gaped.
Although the methods were harsh, Asher was determined to train and become a swordsman. Having powerful troops didn’t mean he should allow himself to be weak and helpless.
Asher took the swords and unsheathed them. They were the swords his grandfather used. He could remember talks about them during his younger days.
[Shura Twin Blades: silver-grade weapons forged by the best blacksmith in Tigris county. The blades are as dark and gleaming like glass because they were forged from a strange rock of unknown origins.]
Upon seeing the description of the swords, Asher knew there was no way his grandfather could pay to have a sword this unique forged. It was probably passed down from the past rulers.
[Host isn’t ambidextrous. Would the host like to upgrade the ‘Shura Twin Blades’ by fusion? Yes or No.]
Asher clicked yes, and the weapons were fused by a blinding light. When the light died out, a simple yet exquisite black and silver scabbard with the sword’s hilt protruding out of it appeared in his hands.
[Devourer: the gold-ranked product of fusing two inherited twin silver-grade swords. Can pierce and damage all equipment below the gold rank.]
Shing!
Asher unsheathed the sword from the scabbard, and the black blade appeared. The sword was almost leaving the boundaries of longswords as it was four centimetres wide and 120 centimeters long.
As he swung it, Asher heard its subtle whistle as it tore the air. “Quite heavy, but I like it. With a gold ranked sword and a gold-ranked pet beast, I should be safe from any secret attack.”
Gu gu!
Right at this moment, his stomach rumbled.
Rubbing his stomach, Asher left his study with his sword and the tome in both hands.
“Good evening, Lord Asher.”
Said Mary as she saw him heading toward her. She stood right in front of his room, so it was no surprise they would meet.
“Is my meal prepared?”
“Yes, Milord.” She lowered her head. She saw the sword in his hand and gasped. Was he about to start training again?
She remembered when he used to train before falling ill.
“Let’s go.”
He went to the dining room with the sword and tome. The first thing that hit him in the dining room was the aroma of the meals on the table. For the first time in a long while, this body perceived the smell of meat!
Kelvin stood, neatly dressed and wearing a broad smile.
“Your lunch is ready.”
Asher hurriedly sat. ‘Finally! A meal a Lord deserves.’ While eating, he took the cup of Moonlit Starhorn milk, and as he drank it, a warm sensation spread throughout his body, nourishing his bones and muscles in a comfortable way.
