Translator: CinderTL
"You're going to the River Domain Nations?"
Sean's reaction was completely different from everyone else's.
When Roland revealed his plan, this honest and devoted friend showed neither concern nor sorrow, nor did he offer any blessings.
He simply paused, then asked with a voice filled with worry, "Just you alone, Roland?"
"I heard Uncle Peyton say the River Domain Nations aren't exactly peaceful. Commerce thrives there, but it's also a melting pot for all sorts of people, with various factions constantly vying for power."
His brow furrowed deeper, and his words tumbled out faster.
"Roland, Uncle Peyton compared it to a gilded powder keg—glittering on the surface, but riddled with hidden dangers."
He counted off the rumors he'd heard on his rough fingers, one by one.
"During the day, the canals carry spices and silks. By night, they might carry corpses. Caravans laden with southern pearls and northern furs enter the city, only to be robbed clean moments later."
Overcome with emotion, he suddenly sat up in bed and grabbed Roland's arm.
"A stranger like you, unfamiliar with the place, would be like a fat lamb wandering into a den of hungry wolves!"
Roland had already investigated the situation Sean described thoroughly when he agreed to join Colin's recruitment.
Therefore, his dear friend's warnings didn't make him hesitate in the slightest.
For Roland, obtaining the Knight's Breathing Technique through the most direct and efficient means was paramount.
Even if the River Domain Nations were truly a dragon's lair or a tiger's den, he was willing to brave the danger.
Seeing Roland's unwavering expression, Sean's brow furrowed deeply, his face etched with inner conflict.
After a moment of tense silence, he finally gritted his teeth and declared with resolute determination:
"If all else fails... I'll go with you! With both of us there, we can watch each other's backs if anything goes wrong..."
Roland was momentarily stunned by this declaration.
He knew better than anyone how much Sean idolized Lord Beckham.
Though he didn't know exactly how his friend had risen from a mere militia member to become Beckham's personal guard, he could imagine the hardships involved.
Now that Sean had finally achieved his dream, he was willing to abandon everything he had fought so hard for, all for Roland's sake.
This profound loyalty warmed Roland's heart.
"Enough, Sean..."
Roland playfully flexed his arm, showing off his bulging muscles with a mischievous grin.
"Just like Uncle Peyton always says, look at me now! Who would dare mess with me?"
"But..." Sean frowned, hesitating.
"Besides, our situations are different," Roland continued, resting his arms behind his head and gazing calmly at the ceiling, his voice tinged with seriousness.
"Uncle Peyton and your dad, Gary, are both in the Golden Valley Kingdom. If you come with me to the River Domain Nations, you might not see them for a long time."
He paused, then turned to Sean, his tone gentle but firm.
"And didn't you just become Lord Beckham's personal guard? That's been your dream forever."
"But I feel..." Sean's expression wavered slightly, but resolve quickly replaced it. He clenched his fist, his voice low and resolute.
"Nothing is more important than you, my brother! Uncle Peyton and Dad don't need me to worry about them. As for Lord Beckham..."
As Sean recalled his days in the military camp, a flicker of reluctance crossed his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it.
"Alright, let's not dwell on that!"
Roland nudged Sean with his shoulder, trying to lighten the mood, a carefree smile spreading across his lips.
"You focus on doing well here. If things don't work out for me in the River Domain Nations, I might just have to swallow my pride and come crawling back to you! Don't turn me away then, okay?"
"How could I ever do that?"
Seeing Roland's resolve, Sean finally stopped trying to dissuade him, letting out a soft sigh before his usual hearty smile returned.
He puffed out his chest, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Just a few days ago, Lord Beckham promoted me to knight's squire! If you ever come looking for me..."
He winked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"I'll have you help me train the horses! It's an easy job! Then we can..."
"Wait!"
Roland suddenly sat up, his eyes gleaming as he stared at his best friend, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement.
"Are you Lord Beckham's knight's squire now?"
"Y-yes... yes, I am..."
Seeing Roland's reaction, Sean assumed he had misunderstood his joke and quickly waved his hands in explanation.
"Sorry, Roland, I was just kidding. How could I ever make you my stablehand?"
"No, that's not the point!" Roland gripped Sean's shoulders tightly, his eyes burning with intensity. "Since you're a knight's squire, you must be incredibly skilled with polearms, right?"
"Of course..." Sean scratched his head, looking puzzled. "How could a knight's squire not be proficient with the most effective polearms for mounted combat?"
He straightened his back, a hint of pride in his voice. "Lord Beckham promoted me ahead of schedule precisely because of my exceptional skill with polearms on horseback..."
"Fantastic!" Roland burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
This was an unexpected stroke of luck! He had originally planned to ask Colin to find someone to teach him polearms after reaching the River Domain Nations. But now, just by visiting his old friend, he had stumbled upon a ready-made instructor!
At the same time, he couldn't help but marvel at Sean's remarkable progress. Just six months ago, when they had last parted ways, Sean had struggled even with the most basic sword techniques. His only notable asset had been his superhuman strength.
Yet in just six months, Sean had not only mastered horsemanship but also become proficient in using long-handled weapons.
Considering that Beckham, as a transcendent professional knight, would undoubtedly have extremely rigorous standards for selecting his squires, Sean's ability to pass the assessment proved his genuine skill, without any exaggeration.
"Sean..."
Roland suddenly threw his arm around Sean's neck, tightening his grip forcefully.
The overwhelming strength momentarily left Sean gasping for air.
He glanced up at Roland, whose relaxed smile made his expression turn peculiar.
If he remembered correctly, they used to have similar interactions, only with their roles reversed.
"This guy Roland..."
As the pressure around his neck intensified, a thought flashed through Sean's usually slow-witted mind.
Could he be retaliating for all those times I used to choke him too hard?
Roland watched Sean's face gradually flush crimson, the corners of his lips curling upward. He tightened his grip further before abruptly releasing him, his expression earnest as he said, "Bro, teach me how to use long-handled weapons!"
"Cough, cough, cough..."
Finally able to breathe freely, Sean couldn't help but cough a few times, glaring at Roland with mild resentment before straightening his posture.
"I don't mind teaching you... but Roland, which polearm do you want to learn?"
"Which ones do you know?"
"Uh..."
Sean cracked his thick fingers, counting earnestly.
"Spears and lances are the basics, of course... Because of my strength, Lord Beckham personally taught me how to use poleaxes and polehammers..."
Roland's eyes lit up at this, and he rubbed his hands together excitedly.
"Sean, I want to learn them all!"
"All... all of them?"
Sean paused, scratching the back of his head, and said hesitantly, "That's no problem, but Roland... mastering these polearms is already difficult enough, let alone using them on horseback. Do you really have enough time to learn them all?"
Roland nodded vigorously, his eyes shining with determination.
"Absolutely!"
There were still nearly three months until the ship to the River Domain Nations set sail.
By now, his Riding Skill was already at its peak. Although his mounted combat techniques were still a bit rusty, with the boost from his Focus trait, he had plenty of time to master several polearms.
"Alright then."
Since it was Roland's request, Sean naturally couldn't refuse.
Roland scratched his head, a hint of apology in his voice. "But I have to train at the military camp during the day. I probably won't be free to teach you until evening."
"That's fine. That much time will be enough."
Roland nimbly flipped out of bed, casually ruffled the Red Squirrel dozing on the wooden table, and strode over to his pack to rummage through it.
Moments later, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he pulled out a slightly yellowed parchment scroll and waved it at Sean.
"To express my gratitude, Sean, I want to give you a gift!"
(End of the Chapter)