NOVEL NEXT Chapter 35.2
35.2. Skill Acquisition
After finishing training, Nord was taking an unusual route through the city streets at dusk.
Normally, he would head straight back to the Ferris estate without making any detours, except perhaps to visit the wyvern research facility.
However, today was different—Nord had an errand to run.
He needed to pick up the armor he had recently commissioned.
Nord had no habit of frivolous spending; for him, shopping meant restocking essentials or upgrading his equipment.
Like many boys born in the capital, Nord had once dreamt of becoming a knight.
Being the son of a warrior family only intensified this aspiration—he had admired his father and elder brothers as a child, imagining himself following in their footsteps.
Though he had given up on becoming a knight and taken up life as an adventurer, commissioning new armor or a sword still stirred a sense of excitement in him.
Today, he would collect a brand-new set of armor.
Crafted using materials from the general spider, Nord couldn’t help but be thrilled imagining how it had turned out.
Riding in a carriage through the dimly lit streets, Nord felt unusually buoyant.
The thought even crossed his mind to hum a tune.
But then, his vision was abruptly drawn to an unexpected sight ahead.
Nord pulled the reins and brought the carriage to an immediate stop.
──“Brrruuuuhh!!”
The horses neighed sharply, and the carriage came to a sudden halt, skidding to a stop on the cobblestone road.
After stopping, the horses stamped their hooves twice, their agitation evident.
Nord stepped off the carriage, glancing briefly at the horses before focusing on what had caught his attention.
Inside the carriage bed, Newt poked his head up. “What’s wrong?”
Nord gestured for Newt to remain in the back. “Stay put.”
“Huh?”
A group of men was loitering nearby.
Noticing the carriage had stopped, they turned their attention to Nord.
They were all dressed like adventurers, wearing leather or metal armor and carrying weapons at their sides.
These men were surrounding someone.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hah? None of your damn business! Get lost, punk!”
“That won’t do.”
“Oh yeah? Think you’re tough, huh!?”
The thug barked a warning, suggesting Nord should leave before he got hurt, but Nord dismissed him flatly.
One of the thugs strode toward Nord, glaring at him from up close.
“What’s your problem?”
“What, scared already?”
The man leaned in, his face mere inches from Nord’s, attempting to intimidate him.
Nord, unfazed, simply remarked, “Your breath stinks. Back off.”
“You little—!!”
At those words, the thug flushed with rage, his face reddening like a boiling kettle.
Reaching for his weapon, he prepared to draw it—but Nord was quicker.
“Ugh…gah…!”
“Honestly, why does it always come to this?”
Before the thug could unsheathe his weapon, Nord drove his knee into the man’s abdomen.
The strike hit right through the leather armor, knocking the wind out of him with surgical precision.
The thug collapsed, coughing and groaning, his body curling into a heap on the ground.
His comrades saw this and erupted in a chorus of angry shouts.
“You’re dead meat!”
“Kill him!”
“You bastard!”
Weapons were drawn as seven or eight armed thugs charged at Nord.
Despite their hostility, Nord felt no sense of danger.
(…Too slow.)
The first man swung down from above, but Nord sidestepped and struck his jaw with a punch. The man crumpled instantly. One down.
Another came at him, and Nord spun around, slamming a fist into the side of his face. The crunch of bone was palpable through his gauntlet.
“You bastard!!”
A thug lunged at Nord, sword at the ready. Nord calmly redirected the blade with his hand, sending it off course.
“Wha—?!” The man stumbled forward, completely off-balance.
Seizing the moment, Nord tripped him and used the momentum to toss him aside.
“Gaaah!!”
The tossed thug collided with two others, all three hitting the ground in a heap.
The remaining thugs hesitated, momentarily stunned by Nord’s swift takedowns.
Nord stepped toward the nearest one and delivered a backhand slap to his face.
“Guh…my eyes!”
The open-handed strike landed squarely, with Nord’s fingers accidentally poking the thug in the eye.
Clutching his face, the man staggered backward, only for Nord to grab his hair and smash his knee into his nose.
“Gah! My teeth!”
The man crumpled, blood and saliva dripping onto Nord’s knee. With a sharp flick, Nord released him, and the thug slumped to the ground.
Only two remained.
Terrified, one thug froze while the other tried to rally. Before he could act, Nord stepped in and delivered a palm strike to his jaw.
“Gah!!”
The force snapped the thug’s head back, and he collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
“And you?”
The last thug, trembling, took a faltering step back. “W-Who the hell are you?! We’re from the Martino gang! You think some adventurer can mess with us?!”
“Ah…well, that’s not entirely wrong, but…”
The thug, desperately clinging to bravado, had assumed Nord was just an adventurer.
Given Nord’s current appearance—a patched-up scale armor and no cloak to conceal it—he didn’t look like a knight.
“Unfortunately, I’m a knight, despite appearances.”
“Huh?”
Before the thug could process this, Nord’s fist struck his face.
Thud.
The last thug collapsed in a heap, unconscious.