Fantasy Writers 1860

Disrifei had somehow reached the edge of the training field and was watching this scene with great interest, like an outsider enjoying a spectacle.

Almost instinctively, Dorian also gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, held it out with both hands, and pointed the tip of the sword at his opponent.

When Lily swung her sword downwards at him, Dorian did not block. Instead, he instantly stepped back, swung his sword to the upper left to dodge, and immediately followed up with a downward slash to the right.

It looks like this sword is aimed at Lily's head.

But just as the sword was about to fall, Dorian instinctively twisted his forearm to the other side, and the sword actually fell towards Lily's hands.

It was a feint.

However, Lily was clearly not fooled by this feint. After her initial downward slash failed, she kept her longsword upright in front of her in a defensive stance, successfully using the lower part of the blade to block Dorian's attempt to steal a hand.

Lily raised her sword with perfect fluidity and thrust it at Dorian. After being deflected, she continued to slash downwards. Dorian, on the other hand, accelerated towards Lily, raising his longsword high above his head, which blocked Lily's downward slash.

The two walked towards each other, switching positions, and the blades of their two longswords rubbed together violently, producing a screeching sound.

After switching positions, Dorian imitated Lily's initial move, raising his longsword high above his head and slashing downwards. Lily skillfully blocked with the middle of her own blade, successfully entangled the two swords together. Then, she quickly pushed her sword upwards, allowing her guard to catch the opponent's blade.

Immediately afterwards, Lily flipped her wrist, held the sword horizontally, and aimed the tip at Dorian's neck.

Neither of them moved, as if time had stood still.

"You haven't learned any swordsmanship before, have you?" Lily sheathed her longsword.

"Yes..." Dorian felt a thin layer of sweat seeping out on his back.

Only then did he realize that in the past ten seconds, he had almost transformed into a code-like being, his body moving entirely on its own, every movement seemingly instinctive, as if he were born to wield the sword this way.

"This is the embodiment of 'Sword Inspiration'." Lily adjusted her top hat; the "battle" hadn't even ruffled her clothes. "Even a magic book can't make you a sword master overnight. You still need to read more, understand more, reflect more, practice more, and engage in more real combat."

Dorian nodded solemnly; those few seconds had almost exhausted all his strength.

It seems that even the Phantom Book can't improve physical strength. Even if I can enter the entrusted fighting mode, it won't work if my physical hardware isn't good.

Afterwards, under Lily's guidance, Dorian did some more training and chatted happily with everyone for a while. It wasn't until the end of the workday at the Academy of Literature that he left with everyone.

They took a different route than they had come by.

The only slightly uncomfortable thing is that I always feel a sharp, resentful gaze watching me from the shadows.

In the past, he might have thought it was just an illusion, but now, after being empowered by the "Self-Manifestation Ability" of the Secret Long Poem, he could no longer deceive himself like that.

He could even sense the source of that gaze: Polina.

"What kind of situation is this..." Dorian sighed helplessly as he sat in the public carriage.

……

Today is the release date of the latest issue of the "Lentinion Weekly".

Clancy had been preparing for this day for a long time.

He told security to stop any suspicious persons who claimed to be looking for him or their newspaper, reinforced the two doors leading to the editorial office, removed the new sign that had only been in place for a few days, and sealed the windows from the inside with a thick layer of duct tape.

"Editor-in-Chief Clancy, why are we doing these things?" The young editor, who had been busy working under Clancy's direction, asked while standing on a stool and applying tape to the window.

"Once this issue is released, our enthusiastic readers will likely come knocking on our door, so we need to be prepared," Clancy replied with an air of certainty.

"This... can't be, right? Although that 'Million Pound Note' was indeed annoyingly broken, it shouldn't be enough to cause someone to block the door because of it, right?"

"Young man, you're still too young. Our newspaper's readers aren't some elegant gentlemen and ladies; they're mostly... ordinary people. They... often possess unimaginable drive." Clancy seemed to recall something.

In addition, he arranged for other members of the editorial department to prepare for potential shocks.

The more senior editors obediently followed Clancy's instructions, while the younger editors generally felt that this was making a mountain out of a molehill.

"Trust me, gentlemen, you will soon meet our enthusiastic readers," Clancy said confidently.

When everything was ready, the latest issue of the Lentinion Weekly was also released.

Clancy was completely embedded in his office chair, his eyes fixed on the closed door of the editorial office, his ears listening for any sound outside.

Time passed slowly, and the faint morning light gradually grew brighter. In the editorial department, everyone worked as usual, while the young editors occasionally exchanged puzzled glances.

"Editor-in-chief..." a young editor finally broke the silence, "It seems... no one really is coming? You're making a mountain out of a molehill, aren't you?"

Clancy frowned but didn't answer. The shouting and banging on the door that he had imagined certainly didn't happen.

"I knew it! It can't be that exaggerated. Would readers really come knocking on our door because of missing chapters?" Seeing that no one was coming, another young editor said confidently, "Maybe this kind of thing used to happen, but now everyone is more civilized and wouldn't do such childish things."

"Impossible, absolutely impossible!" Clancy jumped to his feet. "Those readers who are following the story are like sharks smelling blood, how could they be so calm? They must be planning something bigger! Yes, that must be it!"

He felt incredibly conflicted, fearing that angry readers would actually come and block his door, demanding to know why he had ended the story there; but at the same time, he was also afraid that things would really be calm outside, with no one coming to block his door.

If it can't even provoke readers' anger, doesn't that mean no one reads the Lentinion Weekly?

Does this mean that "The Million Pound Note" isn't actually as interesting as it seems?

Does this mean that his decision to free up all his publishing space for Dorian's novel was a mistake?

He considered many possibilities, but he never thought that readers would become more civilized and wouldn't block the door for such a reason.

In Clancy's mind, this was even less likely than the green sun rising in the west.

"Maybe they haven't finished reading yet... Go listen again! Is there any movement?" Clancy pointed to the door and looked at a young editor.

The young editor shrugged helplessly, walked to the door, cautiously peered through the crack, pressed his ear against the door and listened for a long time, finally shaking his head: "Editor-in-chief, there really is nothing. The streets are normal, even... even calmer than usual."

Clancy's face grew even uglier; he wished there was already a huge commotion outside.

Just then, a gruff voice rang out from outside the door:

"Who let Mr. Hakimi die here! Come out! I want his life!"

Clancy felt a huge weight lifted from her shoulders, but at the same time, a stone flew out of the editorial office window.