Testing

In the Dragonheart Empire, every imperial prince and princess had personal attendants—Royal Guards—whose primary duty was protection.
The selection process was extremely strict, rivaling even the Dragoncleaver Guards.
Thus, those who became guards were almost always exceptionally strong.

And their treatment? Extremely generous—a golden rice bowl that ordinary people could only dream of.

With Black’s strength? He wasn’t just unfit to be a guard—he wasn’t even worthy to wipe their boots.

But if the princess wanted it? There was nothing he could do.

Soon, word spread across the fleet: A Level 10 pirate had become a royal guard.

Some envied him. Some resented him.
But most? They envied him.

“This is your uniform and weapon. From now on, you serve Princess Alice. Remember: protecting her is your duty—even at the cost of your life.”

“The princess wishes to see you. Go to the training grounds.”

Maid Karina spoke seriously, eyeing the thin, weary boy before her.
She couldn’t believe this was the man who’d broken into the empress’s chamber.

But the princess believed it—so she obeyed.

“Understood…”

Black put on the uniform with zero enthusiasm, took the weapon, and trudged toward the training ground.

The uniform was high-quality fabric, intricately patterned—comfortable, expensive.
Far better than his ragged pirate clothes.

Yet not a trace of joy touched him.

He knew—becoming a royal guard meant losing his freedom.
He’d be chained to that villainess day and night!

But he had critical tasks—like sabotaging the Dragonblood Council’s plans.

For now—he’d play it by ear.

When Black arrived at the training ground, his eyes landed on a figure drenched in sweat.

The girl raised her sword—again and again, slashing at an ironwood dummy.

Each strike poured full force!

Sweat dripped from her flawless face. Her workout clothes were soaked.
The impact sent shockwaves through the blade—cracking her palms, blood dripping to the ground.

An ordinary person would’ve dropped the sword, screaming in pain.

But this girl? Silent.
Only repeating the same motion—like a soulless automaton.

This was Alice, the Sword Zealot.

Black saw she was practicing the Swordsman’s Basic Technique: [Slash].

Simple? Yes.
But true mastery lay here.
When every slash was perfectly precise, when spirit energy condensed into pure sword qi—you could slay enemies above your tier!

Master the basics—foundation first.
Without it? The earth shakes beneath you.

To ordinary eyes, Alice had reached perfection—her strikes powerful, refined.

But Black knew—she was far from it.

With each slash, spirit energy spilled uselessly.
Less than half of her sword qi reached the dummy.
Too rigid. Too stiff. Too brute-force.

She didn’t understand how to channel spirit energy—how to flow it through her body’s meridians.

Black knew this—not because he was a sword master—but from game lore.

With a few simple tips from the game’s records, he could fix many of her flaws—boosting her power significantly.

But no need.
Better to avoid trouble.

“Clang!”

Another thunderous strike—and Alice’s practice sword snapped!

The broken blade spun in the air—then plunged into the ground right before Black.

F**! Attempted murder?!

Thankfully, he’d stepped back in time—or he’d be dead again!

Wiping cold sweat, Black thought: This woman is my nemesis. She attacks me the moment I arrive!

“Sorry.”

Alice said it—but her tone held zero remorse.

She walked to Black, tossed the broken hilt at him, then wiped her hands with a handkerchief and drank water.

Black was confused. Why throw the broken sword at me?

Seeing him frozen, clueless, Alice’s delicate brows furrowed slightly.

“Get me a new one.”

Now Black understood.

Tch. Does she have no hands or feet? Nobles are so spoiled!

Still, he obediently fetched a new sword for Alice.

When in someone else’s house, you bow your head.

Alice tested the sword—then tossed it back.

“Get another. The feel is wrong.”

?

This sword was identical to the last—how could the “feel” be different?

Black realized it now—the princess was deliberately tormenting him.

Tch. A real man doesn’t fight women!

After several trips, Alice finally got a sword with the “right feel.”

She swung it once—then turned to Black.

“Come. Spar with me.”

Is there no limit to this harassment?!

Black was furious.
A Level 10 Pirate sparring with a Level 40 Swordsman?

What did Alice want?
Could she not bully people this hard?!

“Your Highness, I know nothing of swordsmanship. At Level 10, I’m unworthy to spar with you!”

Whoosh!

Alice didn’t waste words—lunged straight at him!

Black thought she’d just scare him—never expecting real sword qi!

And—he sensed it: hidden killing intent.

Alice truly wanted to kill him!

Instinctively, he dodged back—the blade’s qi stinging his face.

Seeing he made no defensive move, Alice released the sword qi—withdrew.

The killing intent vanished.

Black was baffled.
What was the princess thinking?

She definitely wanted to kill him—then suddenly stopped.

Could it be… a test?

The more he thought, the more likely it seemed.
Alice suspected him.
Believed he was hiding his strength—so she released killing intent to force a reaction.

But Black wasn’t hiding anything.
He was weak.
Her test was doomed to fail.

“If Your Highness insists—I’ll comply. I hope you won’t laugh at my clumsy skills.”

Black picked up a sword—struck a serious pose—and charged.

Sadly, the gap was too vast.
He never touched her—only gained countless small cuts.

From the exchange, Black confirmed—she was testing him!