Activating his [Concentration] Trait, Roland burned the contents of the worn-out scroll into his mind, then carefully compared it with the copy he had transcribed.

After confirming there wasn’t the slightest error or omission, he solemnly rolled the ancient Sheepskin Scroll shut.

Just then, a crisp knock sounded at the door, followed by Nelson’s voice from the other side.

"Mr. Roland, have you finished transcribing?"

At the sound of his voice, Roland immediately got up and opened the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Nelson..."

He thanked him softly, handing the time-worn Sheepskin Scroll back to Nelson.

"I’ve finished."

"Are you certain you didn’t miss anything?"

When Roland nodded confidently, a smile spread across Nelson’s face.

"In that case, if you have no other business, Mr. Roland..."

He gestured toward the mountain of papers piled by the wooden table and continued apologetically.

"Then I’m afraid I can’t keep you company any longer. You see..."

Roland understood Nelson’s polite dismissal, but he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he spoke up.

"Pardon the interruption, Mr. Nelson, but there is one more thing I’d like to ask you."

"In that case, please, have a seat."

Nelson gestured for him to sit.

Once they were both seated again, he personally lifted the teapot and filled the empty cup in front of Roland. Steam began to curl up from the hot tea.

Only then did he speak.

"What is it you wished to ask, Mr. Roland? I will tell you everything I know."

"Well..."

Seeing that Nelson showed no signs of impatience, Roland briefly explained his intention to track down some nearby pirates.

After listening to Roland’s explanation, Nelson furrowed his brow slightly. He pondered for a moment before speaking slowly.

"I apologize, Mr. Roland, but before I answer your question, allow me to ask one of my own..."

He raised his teacup and took a small sip.

"Do you have some sort of... history with the pirates in these waters?"

"Not at all."

Roland shook his head lightly.

He simply wanted to fulfill the requirements to take on the [Pirate] Profession.

Of course, he couldn’t possibly reveal the existence of his Professional Panel to Nelson, so he had to choose his words carefully and come up with a somewhat flimsy excuse.

"Mr. Nelson, I just... want to hone my Combat Skills."

"I see."

Nelson didn’t press the issue upon hearing this reason.

Having worked at the Knight Academy for many years, he had grown accustomed to young men like Roland who were eager to improve themselves through combat.

"In that case, Mr. Roland, you really don’t need to go looking for trouble with those seafaring outlaws. In fact..."

The white-haired man’s brow was tightly knit, his voice slow and grave.

"Are you aware of the villain known as the Wolf King, whose rampages have grown more frequent of late?"

He continued only after Roland nodded.

"By some unknown means, he has recently consolidated all the pirate forces in the surrounding waters under his command."

"Under his strict orders, those pirates are all holed up near the Land of Mist. That area is close to the Wolf King’s lair, and combined with the strange phenomena of the Land of Mist itself, it is extremely dangerous."

"We have already begun preparations for a joint operation to eliminate the Wolf King, but this is not a task that can be accomplished quickly, so..."

Looking at the exceptionally talented young man before him, Nelson advised with great earnestness.

"If you wish to hone your Combat Skills, you would be better off seeking out the bandits that roam the Kingdom, or perhaps smaller clusters of Demons. In my opinion, those are far safer targets."

"I understand."

Roland nodded slowly after hearing Nelson’s warning.

His intelligence gathering over the past few days had already made him understand that the "Wolf King" was no pushover.

The danger of a target that forced the Merchant faction, which had Extraordinary Powerhouses in its ranks, to make such meticulous preparations went without saying.

To venture deep into that treacherous Land of Mist alone with his current strength, which had yet to reach the Extraordinary level?

It was akin to sticking his neck in a noose.

’Looks like becoming a [Pirate] will have to be put on hold for now...’

He thought to himself, but Nelson’s words had sparked another idea.

’But... perhaps I could apply to join the Merchant faction’s operation to eliminate the Wolf King?’

’I could let them engage the Wolf King head-on while I sneak into the Pirate camp and go Plundering their ships...’

The plan flashed through his mind, but he didn’t propose it to Nelson just yet.

It was just a rough outline, after all.

Never mind whether Nelson would agree; his own knowledge of the Land of Mist was limited to the horror stories and scraps of information circulating in taverns.

The Merchant faction hadn’t launched their assault yet, which clearly meant they were still gathering information and lacked confidence in dealing with the Wolf King’s lair and the treacherous Land of Mist.

So, it was better to wait.

It wouldn’t be too late to make his request once the Merchant faction had everything ready and was about to move out.

With Avril, the ever-uninvited member of the Shadow Veil, around, he would never miss the moment the Merchant faction sounded the horn for their attack.

Having made up his mind, Roland exchanged a few more pleasantries with Nelson and left the room.

The moment the door closed behind him, he set off on his way back without a moment’s hesitation.

Upon returning to his residence, he greeted Galvis and Bronson, telling them not to let anyone disturb him unless it was an emergency. Then, Roland slipped into his room.

Bright sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a golden hue.

He carefully unrolled the transcribed Breathing Technique Scroll on the sturdy oak table. Taking a deep breath, he dispelled the lingering excitement in his mind and immersed his full attention in the introductory guidance at the beginning of the Scroll.

That was the starting point of the "Basic Rhythm."

He sat upright at the table, his [Concentration] Trait activating instantly.

His spine was straight as a spear, and he banished all distracting thoughts.

Following the Scroll’s instructions, he first needed to adjust his posture, making his spine an invisible core of support while his muscles remained relaxed yet held an inner tension.

This seemingly simple adjustment demanded a level of subtle bodily balance he had never experienced before.

Then came the breathing.

"Guide the breath of life; let it travel the inner path..."

Roland closed his eyes and began to attempt the rhythm described in the Scroll, one that was precise to a demanding degree.

Inhaling wasn’t a simple expansion of the lungs. It required his consciousness to guide his breath—like a warm trickle of water—slowly flowing in through his nose and down along the core Energy pathway between his chest and abdomen, just as the Scroll’s diagram illustrated.

He had to precisely control the speed and depth of his breath, making an almost imperceptible pause at a specific, extremely subtle node.

The Scroll called this "node suspension."

On his first attempt, his breathing fell into disarray.

Even with the help of his [Concentration] Trait, his mind couldn’t clearly locate the so-called core pathway. His breath simply swelled aimlessly between his chest and abdomen, making the "node suspension" completely out of the question.

He felt a strange tightness in his chest and his breathing rhythm was instantly shattered. He was forced to open his eyes, gasping for air as fine beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

’Mastering the Knight’s Breathing Technique is even harder than I imagined...’

Roland wiped the sweat from his brow. There was no trace of discouragement in his eyes; instead, they burned with an even more intense focus.

He stared at the Scroll again, burning every twist and pause of the illustrated path and its textual descriptions into his mind, as if memorizing the most complex of Spell Runes.

A moment later, he closed his eyes and began his second attempt.

This time, he slowed down, focusing his entire mind inward.

He was no longer aiming for speed, but for precision and stability.

His consciousness became a fine-tipped probe, carefully tracing the sensation described in the Scroll.

Inhale, guide, descend...

He struggled to perceive the path of his breath inside his body, trying to find that critical node somewhere near the bottom of his sternum.

Exhaling was no longer a simple expulsion.

Instead, it required his consciousness to guide the wisp of Energy his body had seemingly begun to awaken, spreading it slowly and evenly along another, more subtle path that felt as if it connected to his very extremities.

The Scroll called this "Aftershock Infiltration."

However, just as the breath was about to transition from the core pathway to the peripheral ones, his concentration wavered for just an instant. The faint, newly-gathered sense of Energy flow suddenly dissipated, snuffed out in an instant like a candle in the wind.

At the same time, the bicep of his left arm twitched uncontrollably, a sore, numb sensation spreading through it.

This was a sign of a failed attempt to guide the Energy—the dissipated power was lashing out at his muscles.