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"Dammit, they even want a low-level Magic Stone for this nameless, crappy Body Forging Technique!"
Ronan gritted his teeth as he walked out of the market.
He ended up buying it anyway.
The young wizard who sold it to him guaranteed as he was leaving that it would certainly strengthen the body, claiming he himself had practiced it for a while and even secretly told Ronan that this Body Forging Technique could also somewhat benefit spiritual cultivation.
"Really?..."
Ronan was somewhat skeptical.
Actually, he had planned on looking elsewhere, but in the end, that young wizard vendor released his own spiritual power, subtly pressuring Ronan with an almost threatening demeanor, suggesting there would be trouble if he didn't buy it.
Ronan had no choice but to pinch his nose and swallow this bitter pill.
"Without strength, even buying something means getting bullied..."
Ronan returned home to his place in the forest, filled with gloom.
This trip out, he easily sold two [Clean] runes, but in the end, he returned with his pockets just as empty.
It was truly a case of earning money at the market just to spend it there, not expecting to bring home a penny.
Because he was provoked at the market, the moment Ronan got home, he threw himself into rune engraving with all he had.
In three days, he had engraved all twenty newly acquired blank Rune Stones in one go, successfully completing six.
Then, he sold them off in several batches and bought a large stock of blank Rune Stones.
The last time he went, the rune collector's look had changed when he saw Ronan, which made him decide never to go back.
"Phew—"
Ronan held a Rune Stone and gently blew away the stone dust from its surface, then looked it over with a measure of satisfaction.
"Successfully made another one."
Although his Proficiency level in [Clean] runes remained at the entry-level, his success rate was already quite high.
Sometimes, if he was in a good state, Ronan could successfully make two or three in a row; if he was not in a good state, it was common for him to fail five or six times consecutively.
Overall, his success rate has stabilized around thirty percent, meaning he could succeed once every three tries on average.
"In the future, I must set up a quiet and undisturbed workspace... Several times it was the sudden bugs flying into the room and the birds' calls outside that caused my failures..."
Ronan thought as he put the rune in hand into a special pocket.
He had already accumulated three or four [Clean] runes again.
Since he had plenty of materials on hand, he planned to save up a bunch at once and go directly to the Dwarf Market, to a proper Rune Store to sell them.
"Six [Clean] runes sold for four and a half low-level Magic Stones, one Magic Stone paid as the entrance fee, and the rest was all spent on materials..."
The last time he sold runes, Ronan bargained hard with the vendor, almost completely burning the bridge of their limited acquaintance, with the unmistakable resolve never to return.
He had hoarded... almost a hundred blank rune stones, enough to last him a good long while.
Stepping out of his home, Ronan stretched a big yawn.
He had spent almost all his energy on Rune engraving recently except for meditation; he had paused all other daily routines.
Now that he was free, he felt a strong sense of oppression in his chest, thinking about going out for a breath of fresh air, and unconsciously wandered along the forest trail until he reached the lakeside.
"Whoosh!"
A blue-hued Light Ball whooshed and flew into the lake, creating a "boom" and a several-meter-high water column.
Then came the second, the third...
Ronan threw four or five [Energy Missiles] into the lake in one breath, then took off his shoes, rolled up his robe, and waded into the lake barefoot to gather the fish that had been startled to the surface by the Energy Missiles.
"Tonight's dinner is sorted..."
Ronan caught a few fish, wrapped them in his robe, planning to make one into a soup, grill another, and dry the rest into fish jerky.
After staying by the lake for a while, letting the breeze and beautiful scenery gently sweep away his weariness of body and mind, Ronan walked back with the fish in tow.
Dinner was sumptuous, with fish soup paired with leftover deer meat and wild fruits from home; Ronan treated himself well.
After dinner, with a clear moon and sparse stars, since he wasn't planning on engraving runes tonight, he didn't create a Firefly Lamp Bag. Ronan sat under the oak tree, flipping through the ancient Body Forging Method book purchased earlier, used by Ancient Ascetics to temper the body under the moonlight.
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"Just follow the instructions."
Ronan flipped through the entire booklet from beginning to end, just a dozen or so different poses and accompanying explanatory text, nothing out of the ordinary.
Being accustomed as a Rune Master, he made sure to memorize the first page's illustrations and text before attempting the exercises.
"Such an awkward position."
After getting into it, Ronan began to realize the difficulty.
It was probably because this body's foundation was too poor, stiff in the limbs.
A posture that seemed simple enough in the diagram, he struggled for a long time to get into position, working up a sweat.
"Huff huff—"
Ronan was panting heavily, but his mindset was pretty good.
"Not bad, not bad, this amount of exercise is almost on par with my usual one or two hours of training, worthy of a genuine Body Forging Technique..."
Ronan didn't care at all that he was still a long way from even entry-level for the first pose, he nonchalantly stood up and wiped his sweat.
"Enough training, the sooner I meditate and sleep, the better!"
...
Life returned to its routine and mundanity.
Meditation, Rune engraving, exercise, Spell practice...
The only change was that Ronan had swapped his running routine for practicing the Body Forging Technique.
This ancient Body Refining Method, which cost him an entire Low-level Magic Stone, was progressing slowly, but the effects were quite noticeable.
Ronan's appetite increased day by day, and his body became noticeably stronger.
"Damn damn damn!"
"Ow ow ow!"
Ronan was half prostrate on the grass under the tree, his body in a rather awkward position, face contorted, one hand rapidly slapping the ground, much like signaling surrender in a boxing match.
"Slap!"
Ronan released the position and sprawled out on the ground.
It took a while to catch his breath before slowly sitting up.
"Dammit, why does it hurt more the deeper I get into practicing..."
Ronan wiped the sweat from his face, his eyes filled with dissatisfaction.
The closer he got to mastering the first movement of the Ancient Ascetic's Body Forging Method he bought from the market, the more intense the pain became during practice.
Just like just now, Ronan felt like his body was almost being ripped apart, the pain was so intense that tears and snot were everywhere.
"If it's this kind of pain... it's not at all helpful for spiritual cultivation."
Ronan gritted his teeth, knowing full well that the young wizard from the market had tricked him.
In fact, he should have realized it sooner.
The physical practices of the Ancient Ascetics...
What kind of practice did the Ascetics undertake?
Extreme heat, severe cold, fasting... the more extreme, the better.
This was essentially a method of self-torture, designed to increase one's tolerance to pain.
It might have a certain effect on Body Forging, but it definitely wasn't a legitimate Knight Training Method.
Unfortunately, it was too late for Ronan to realize this now, so much time had passed, and it was certain that they wouldn't accept a return.
"Never mind, keep practicing for now. When I have more money, I'll switch to something else..."
Ronan sighed helplessly.
Mainly because he was already quite close to entry-level of the first position, and although these exercises were painful, he felt pretty comfortable after each session when he sweated profusely.
The effects of strengthening and conditioning his body... were also pretty good, I suppose.
Ronan touched his own cheeks; without noticing, the puffy and swollen fat on his face seemed to have reduced a lot.