153: Chapter 92 Together_2 153: Chapter 92 Together_2 “Hmm, I’ve made friends with a Mage who can help me,” Leon nodded, not revealing who it was.
Hilgard was curious, but before he could ask further, Leon heard horse hooves and Knight Balfe’s call from behind.
After putting the necklace around his neck and tucking it into his neck guard, Leon bid farewell to the Magician uncle, “Sorry, master, let’s chat another day, I have urgent matters that call me back to my estate.”
Mounting his horse, Leon, with Kovis following, caught up with Balfe’s squad and headed out of the military camp.
Hilgard watched the little knight’s receding figure, puzzled in thought.
There weren’t many magicians in the Northern Society to begin with, and they all had connections with each other.
Currently, another magician from Kosos County was also in the camp.
Besides him, Hilgard hadn’t heard of any other Society magicians heading south.
Could it be a journeyman apprentice traveling to their lands?
But an apprentice yet to earn a title, where would they find the ability to charge such complex Magic Items?
could it be that this young man indeed possessed a talent for studying magic, being noticed by one of the Spellcasters?
Hilgard, who initially held little hope for the young man’s self-claims, suddenly felt an eager fervor.
Even though the other was now just a little knight from the frontier, if both identities could be developed, a Mage who was both an Orland Noble Lord and a Society member would be extraordinarily significant for the Northern Society’s expansion of influence in Orland.
One must realize, among the Society, spellcasters of noble status could be counted on one hand.
Despite being respected by the lords of the Northern Kingdom, in reality, the political identities of most spellcasters were still civilians below the nobility.
Though they held unique statuses, it was still hard for them to influence the kingdom’s politics and power.
Such a situation is undoubtedly a long way off from the Society’s ultimate goal.
Hilgard stroked his beard, aware that it was time to write a letter asking the fortress to send someone to Selva to investigate.
On the third morning since Leon left Selva for the military camp.
In the backyard of the estate, the sound of clashing weapons and shifting Armor rang out in a metallic cacophony.
Azeryan, his head covered in a helmet and his body clad in plate armor, wielding a blunted training Spear, put forth his utmost effort against the golden-haired girl oppostie him wearing Armor and holding a training Spear.
With a “window” guard maneuver, twisting and stepping, the noble youth uncrossed his hands, skewing his spear to the left as Olivia lunged forward with a perilous thrust.
After a successful block, not daring to waste a moment, he took the chance to thrust his shoulder forward, aiming the spear’s tip at the girl’s visor.
However, Olivia, whose forward momentum never ceased, used the deflecting force on her spear shaft to hoist up the rear end in her left hand, easily diverting the incoming counterthrust.
Her right hand, in the midst of all this, had shifted its grip to the upper half of the spear shaft.
And in the instant of these countermeasures, the girl’s footwork didn’t pause for an instant, already closing the distance and changing her position relative to him.
This was the decisive moment for Azeryan’s predicament—his spearhead was now beside the girl, rendered unable to threaten the Armor-clad girl any longer.
As she entered a dangerous proximity, Olivia twisted her body and raised her shoulder, shortening the staff to a paddle-like stroke, promptly lifting the spearhead from the lower right to in front of Azeryan’s face.
The noble youth couldn’t retreat in time.
All the girl needed was to push her right hand forward slightly, and the spearhead would penetrate the gaps of the helmet and strike her opponent’s face.
The winner was clear, and they stopped their bout.
Around them, several children who had come to watch the excitement clapped vigorously.
Even though they did not understand the intricacies of Azeryan’s and Olivia’s training, the dizzying array of moves still thrilled them.
“You seem distracted, Olivia,” Azeryan removed his helmet, exhaling deeply, and took the wet towel a servant had run over to wipe his sweat.
It was noticeably obvious.
Even in armored martial training, the noble youth knew he couldn’t last three moves against the monstrously strong girl—even when clad in plate armor.
But today, throughout the morning’s armored spear training, he found himself occasionally lasting four or five moves, even managing to launch a few counters.
Although these weren’t enough to overcome Olivia, Azeryan felt that the usually exuberant girl was uncharacteristically off her game.
Perhaps she had unluckily hit her period in these last few days?
Of course, Azeryan wouldn’t voice such an impolite guess.
Olivia removed her helmet, shook her bound hair loose from behind her head, and retied it into a ponytail: “It’s nothing, just not in the best mood.”
The girl sighed quietly.
She had looked forward to a good chat with Leon the day before yesterday, to hear about his thrilling journey bringing Miss Elena back home.
But when she went to see him the next morning, she discovered that he had stayed only one night before leaving Selva again.
Already feeling dejected by missing the opportunity to reunite with a long-absent friend, her mood only worsened yesterday after arguing with her father at home…
Thinking of her father’s unyielding attitude, the girl’s pretty brows furrowed again.
Just then, Little Lina came hurrying from the hall to the backyard, beaming, “Lord Azeryan!
Brother Leon and the others have returned, he sent me to fetch you.”
Hearing of her friend’s return, Olivia’s eyes brightened, and the frustration from the decision her father had announced faded significantly.
The two of them no longer had the heart to continue training; the girl and Azeryan put away their training Spears and left the backyard.