Pioneer Wizard's Notebook

【Name: Windmill Slash】

[Type: Knight Combat Art]

[Description: An advanced version of the Whirlwind Slash, this sword technique utilizes the power of the entire body, unleashing a powerful, windmill-like strike.]

"Remember to lift your feet off the ground during the swing of your sword, rather than jumping up and then swinging." — Knight Lind

Linde recorded his new findings in the wizard's journal.

He looked ahead.

The Icefield Ghost Knight, who had been ferocious not long ago, now had his raised left arm shattered into pieces.

He was completely cut off from the left shoulder down, splitting his body in two.

The head, which had fallen to the ground, looked up at the sky. The madness in its murky, lifeless eyes faded, replaced by a sense of relief.

The windmill slash was incredibly powerful. Lin De closed his notebook, his expression satisfied.

A glance around revealed that the Icefield Ghost Knight was dead, and the remaining monsters had also perished under the solar winds and rain of arrows. Victory was now assured.

The distant icy forest still harbors a crisis.

But at least the most difficult first wave of attack was successfully blocked, buying time for development.

Cheers of the militiamen, who had survived the ordeal, echoed from the walls.

Linde approached William, who was panting and had stopped to rest, and found him staring blankly at the corpse of the Ice Demon, as if he was still immersed in the battle just now.

"Just as I said, you made the right choice, and our ending has changed."

Linde patted him on the shoulder with a smile, "The past is no longer important. Now it's time for us to take control of our own destiny."

William glanced at his blond hair, sheathed his sword, and bowed with a complex expression:

"You led the Sunflowers to hold back the Ice Demons, and the Senlight family will be proud of you."

"Please allow me to scout the Ice Mist Forest; we need to know when the next wave of attacks might arrive."

William is the only remaining ranger in the manor and is familiar with the terrain around the Ice Mist Forest, making him undoubtedly the most suitable person to conduct an in-depth investigation.

Linde asked, "When do we depart?"

William replied, "Let's go now; it's not yet noon, the perfect time."

"You're getting a little rushed. Shouldn't you take a break?"

"Don't worry, there are temporary huts on the outskirts of the forest. The most important thing now is to check on the Ice Demon inside."

"Alright, I hope you return safely."

William hurried out of the manor stable, led a maned horse, and, carrying food supplies, headed towards the Ice Mist Forest.

As he watched his figure disappear into the distance, Linde smiled and shook his head.

"Are you having trouble making a decision, so you subconsciously want to avoid me?"

Lind could see the complex emotions William was feeling at that moment.

As a knight, he once served Baron Jefferson.

The second son, who is now left to guard the manor, expresses independent thoughts in his words.

With the pressure from the Ice Demon temporarily subsided, Knight William had to face the problem: what should he do if the Baron returned in the future?

The knight's insistence prevented him from lying to Lind, and his unwavering loyalty made it difficult to betray the Baron, so he had no choice but to remain silent.

Linde didn't care that he didn't get the answer he wanted.

William has already demonstrated his determination to defend his territory through his actions; as for whom he pledges allegiance, that is no longer the most important thing.

Lind appreciated his loyalty and was willing to wait for time to change his mind.

"Clear the battlefield and treat the wounded!"

Linde shouted at the wall.

The door opened with a creak.

Led by soldiers Philip and Judd, the women and militiamen got to work.

Clean up the corpses of the Ice Demons, collect the remains of the fallen, and bandage the wailing wounded.

Now the townspeople finally know what the enemy the manor is guarding against is.

They looked at the fallen monster, a sense of lingering fear washing over them.

Countless militiamen embraced their wives, celebrating their survival.

They dared not imagine how terrible it would be if they and their families were still in the town when these monsters attacked.

It was precisely because they were clearly aware of the enemy's identity.

The residents' faces gradually flushed red, overwhelmed with excitement at the victory they had personally participated in.

They were incredulous, they cheered, the monster of the northern ice plains, the legendary Ice Demon, had died by their own hand.

This is a warrior's glory worthy of being sung by tavern bards!

The joy of victory dispelled the gloom.

The militiamen quickened their pace, and as they approached the dashing figure on the battlefield, they bowed respectfully, expressing their heartfelt gratitude.

Lind nodded in response.

He could clearly sense the change in how people around him treated him.

He was no longer the dispensable second son of the manor, but a respected leader.

The barrier of distrust has been cleared.

Of course, he cannot replace Baron Jefferson's position yet.

But as long as the upcoming Ice Demon attack can be resolved and the town's backward and primitive living environment can be completely changed, Lind believes that these residents will make the right choice.

At that time, these militias, under his development, will transform into an invincible army's blade, tearing apart all obstacles in their path.

The Flourishing Flower Territory will become the starting point of its expansion, announcing its return to the world.

Everything is moving in a positive direction.

......

Above the wall, there was a lot of noise.

At this moment, the place is filled with the excited shouts of militia members boasting and celebrating their survival.

They talked about their aspirations for the future, believing that their names would spread to other parts of the kingdom and become the talk of the town in the local taverns.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Pullman leaned against the wall, but felt only a chill in his body.

As the manor's butler, he also participated in the defense, which nearly crippled his right arm.

His wife was bandaging him, and his seven-year-old son was lying on his chest, looking at him with concern.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine."

Pullman stroked his son's head, comforting his family.

But he knew very well that the crisis at the manor was not over, and it did not come from those terrifying Icefield Demons.

In places unseen by others, an even greater disaster is brewing.

This land has witnessed countless events in the past, and it is destined to continue to do so in the future; no one can change that.

Thinking of this, Pullman lowered his head and met his son's innocent gaze.

His eyes were unfocused, as if he had returned to his childhood.

That year, a sudden heavy snowfall disrupted the territory's ice fishing plans.

The family huddled around the stove, the mother holding him tightly as she fed him cold, hard raw fish that she had saved up the previous year.

Pullman vaguely remembered that his mother later placed a jar of fish in front of him, then shrank into the corner of the quilt and never made a sound again.

The usually taciturn father picked up the hunting bow on the wall and stepped into the wind and snow outside without looking back.

After the heavy snow, he became an orphan.

Pullman looked up at the Ice Mist Forest, which is also where the Mecca River is located.

A white, misty ice storm was raging and howling there.

Memory and reality overlap at this moment.

But he knew one thing clearly.

Icefield Demons are not edible.

Pullman's gaze swept over his tightly bandaged right hand, and he instinctively hugged his son tighter, murmuring softly:

"Don't blame me, someone has to survive..."