Chapter One: A Good-for-Nothing in a Dream

I had a dream.
In the dream, I was no longer myself, but Salvador.
I was neither in the Black Coffin nor in the Weeping, but rather inside the Shadow-Sun Bunker of the Order of Sword and Shield.
Strange, why would I dream of Salvador? Undeniably, he bore a slight resemblance to his older sister, but surely not enough for me to dream of him.
I hoped the progression of this dream would remain normal, free of any uncomfortable scenes.
I must also make every effort to control my hands and keep them away from my foreign appendage.
......
Salvador was jolted awake by the reveille. He leaped up from his bunk, taking less than twenty seconds to dress fully and less than thirty to make his bed.
Shining muscle groups, sturdy silhouettes, rich sweat, and rough shouts filled the air as the squire-knights of the Order of Sword and Shield ran past the bedroom to wash up by the troughs.
They were the bottom-tier trainees of the Order, enduring an intensely rigorous life and training regimen.
Salvador was tripped by someone and took a tumble, causing the other boys to laugh. Someone mocked, "Spy! Don't panic! We haven't suspected you yet."
His nickname was Spy.
Life indeed did not seem to be treating Salvador very well, though that came as no surprise. Protagonists in underdog stories never had it easy.
Being an underdog was not the issue; the real worry was if this turned out not to be an underdog story at all.
Following that, they began practicing their training swordsmanship.
They gathered in a hall cast entirely of iron, swinging longswords and shedding sweat. Strike after strike, repeating the exact same movement a hundred times, a thousand times, until their muscles formed a conditioned reflex. Then, they moved on to the next movement, all while binding heavy weights to their swords.
Salvador had once practiced Mind-Blades under Harsin, but this training was entirely different. Harsin had honed Salvador's willpower, whereas this session focused on foundational physical conditioning. Enduring bodily suffering could strengthen one's willpower, thereby inducing the manifestation of a Mind-Blade.
If these youths failed to pass the Mind-Blade test of the Order of Sword and Shield before turning twenty, they would be cast out into the wilderness to fend for themselves, which usually meant death.
Once morning training concluded and lunchtime arrived, Salvador collected his body-tempering secret potion, bread, and porridge from the Order, then sat down at a table. Another squire of the Order shoved him roughly and shouted, "Spy, stop eavesdropping on us!" The motion knocked the potatoes right off Salvador's spoon and onto the floor.
Salvador glared at them angrily. Those squires stared back in defiance and snapped, "What? Want to throw punches? Fine, come on then!"
Salvador closed his eyes, suppressed his anger, and sat off to the side to eat alone.
At that moment, the female cadets of the Order arrived, causing the eyes of the male squires to light up instantly.
Young men and women in the prime of their youth, sculpted by rigorous training into aesthetically pleasing physiques brimming with vitality, used their youthful charm to attract one another while testing each other's endurance.
This dream felt far too vivid, vivid enough to make me lose my grip a bit...
A fair-skinned maiden of about eighteen years old, still carrying the faint fragrance of sweat, lingered in the crowd for a moment before coming over to sit beside Salvador.
I had no idea whether Salvador and Betty had ever experienced things they shouldn't have, but faced with such a girl, Salvador suddenly lost his composure.
This was a dream, after all; why not be a bit bolder, why not steal a kiss, why not pull her away into some secluded patch of bushes....
While I was lost in fantasy, the girl asked, "Why does everyone call you Spy?"

Salvador replied, "I came from the allies."
The girl smiled, revealing pearly white teeth, her eyelashes glistening with sweat as if illuminated by her eyes. She said, "My name is Nideriel, you can just call me Nily."
She asked again, "With so many people in the Black Coffin, why is it just you who came here?"
Salvador answered, "I applied for it voluntarily."
Nily lowered her voice and said, "I know you're very close with Milsay, aren't you?"
Salvador said, "Yes, I know him."
Nily smiled and said, "Milsay is a transcendent genius and such a handsome guy, too! How can someone be promoted to Viscount at such a young age? We girls often talk about him at night."
Salvador gave a faint smile and buried himself in his meal.
Nily asked, "Could you put in a good word for me and introduce us?"
That scoundrel Milsay—to think he was this popular within the Order of Sword and Shield? Ah, what a pity that I...
Ah, I am already married, and realistically I should be free of desires, but envy, jealousy, and hatred are only human nature; blocking is worse than channeling. If I were awake, I would have already started sticking pins into a little straw doll of Milsay.
Salvador said, "I wouldn't know. Sir Milsay and I don't see each other very often."
Nily let out a soft "oh," leaned in a bit closer, and asked, "What is it like over at the Black Coffin? Will you tell me about it?"
Salvador asked, "What would you like me to tell you?"
Nily reached out and began counting on her fingers, saying, "Isn't it a skyscraper over there? What is it like? What do people there wear? What do they eat? Do they know anything about our situation here in the Order? Are you considered a big deal over there?"
Salvador said, "I am not considered a big deal at all."
Nily pouted playfully and scolded, "Are you really not going to leak a single thing, Spy?"
Salvador wore a bitter expression and simply stopped paying attention to her. Nily hurriedly added, "Hey, I was just joking with you! Why did you take it so seriously?" She paused, then whispered in Salvador's ear, "Actually, you're quite handsome too! Because a foreigner like you is so good-looking, many of us girls think highly of you, and that's why those boys are mean to you, right?"
Suddenly, the earlier provocateur picked up his rice bowl and hurled it straight at Salvador. Salvador sidestepped to avoid it, and the potato soup in the bowl nearly splashed onto Nily.
Nily jumped to her feet and shouted, "Gao Zhi! Have you got a death wish?"
Gao Zhi wore a ferocious expression, his face practically plastered with the word "jealousy" in plain sight. He barked, "Why are you sitting so close to him?" A group of the Order's squires stood up in unison behind him.
This was where human society intersected with wild animals: males bickering over a female. This cliché scenario reenacted itself in my dream. To think I actually believed something marvelous and unprintable might happen between Salvador and Nily.
At that moment, Salvador's gaze shifted toward the entrance. He saw Milsay walking in alongside a middle-aged man with trimmed stubble.
The squires bowed respectfully and shouted in unison, "Count Serska, Viscount Milsay!"
Serska was silent at first, but his gaze was as sharp as a sword; wherever it swept, every squire wished they could bury their head deep into the ground.
Serska suddenly chuckled and asked, "Nily, is it you causing trouble again?"
Nily retorted, "There's no such thing! I was just exchanging a few words with the new guy! I couldn't stand watching Gao Zhi and the others bullying someone!"
Serska stated, "Men have their own ways of resolving men's matters. Do you think acting like this is helping Salvador? No, you are humiliating him, making people think he can only rely on a girl to get himself out of trouble!"

Nily's face turned completely red, and she retreated back among the female cadets. As she passed by Milsay, she cast a flickering glance his way, but Milsay stared straight ahead, unmoved.
Nily looked disappointed as she rejoined the girls. The girls let out a collective sigh, surrounding her like stars around the moon, suggesting Nily held quite a high status.
This was yet another cliché trope. I suspected Nily might be the daughter of some Marquis or Duke within the Order of Sword and Shield.
Serska announced, "Lunchtime is over. Salvador and Gao Zhi are to stay behind to clean the mess hall. Everyone else shall return to their dormitories to rest, and training resumes at two o'clock this afternoon!" With that, he turned and strode away.
Milsay walked up to Salvador, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "You performed very well. Langji will be proud of you."
Proud of my foot! If it were me, I would have thrown Gao Zhi into a cesspit long ago.
This dream was simply dragging on too long. I had to sit through the entirety of Salvador and the others' afternoon training, which was so boring it made me want to yawn, while painfully realizing that I was trapped in a dream.
Dinner time remained as dull as water. The girls chatted from afar and refrained from bothering Salvador this time around. What kind of karmic retribution was I enduring to be forced to watch Salvador's tedious male apprentice life?
Gao Zhi and his cronies were conspiring in the distance. Salvador concentrated his mind-power and overheard them plotting: "Tonight, cover him with a quilt and beat him to a pulp! Make sure he has no idea who did it."
"Just make sure you don't cripple him, or how will we answer to Serska?"
"His friendship with Milsay is no ordinary one!"
"They won't care. Didn't you hear Serska say he has to overcome it himself?"
They burst into laughter, and Gao Zhi sneered, "He's going to overcome us? Who do they think he is?"
Hearing this, I couldn't help but sigh: He is the protagonist of this dream, while you lot are nothing more than non-player characters. In fact, your screen time has already become annoyingly excessive.
When night fell, Salvador lay down in his bed. Surprisingly, he had no intention of fighting back; instead, he planned to use a Mind-Blade technique resembling an iron lotus for self-protection.
He was unwilling to display the Mind-Blade taught by Harsin in plain sight, as that might invite even greater trouble. Harsin had once let slip a hint that he might be a massive traitor to the Order of Sword and Shield.
Gao Zhi and his gang slipped out of bed in absolute silence, creeping closer on tiptoes. Salvador took a deep breath, steeling himself to receive the beating.
Suddenly, a piercing alarm wailed, sounding like the howl of some oceanic beast. Every single squire in the room was jolted awake. Believing it to be an emergency assembly, they began scrambling to put on their clothes.
Salvador shouted, "No, there are enemies outside!"
Several pale demons burst through the door, grabbed a squire who was still trying to pull up his trousers, and slammed him down until he drew his last breath.
Everyone was terrified out of their wits, screaming, "Demons!" "How can there be demons here?"
Salvador infused his fists with a Mind-Blade and struck a pale demon squarely in the face. The demon staggered back, its face bloodied. Then, he snatched a longsword from beside his bed and, with a single thrust, left the pale demon bleeding profusely.
The rest of the squires were nowhere near as capable. The squires closest to the door were pounced upon by the pale demons and instantly mauled into bloody pulps. These demons were difficult to handle even for armed men, let alone this group of half-baked beginners from the Order of Sword and Shield.
Gao Zhi rushed forward, gripping his longsword tightly, and leaped with a warcry toward the demon Salvador was confronting. However, he only managed to scratch the demon's hide. The demon whipped around and slashed him with a claw, leaving Gao Zhi covered in blood as he crashed into a bunk bed.
I thought to myself, is this a dream or reality? Surely Salvador wasn't actually in danger. I yelled out, "Stab the demons in the eyes, stab their eyes!"
Salvador was an expert marksman, and his swordsmanship training had sharpened his hand-eye coordination. With a forward lunge, his blade pierced straight into the demon's eye, and his Mind-Blade burrowed into its brain, dispatching the creature once and for all.