After traveling a few more miles, another checkpoint appeared ahead. William Ford quietly lay in ambush nearby for a while and felt greatly relieved: there were only four masked servants and a single heavy swordsman here. That heavy swordsman wasn’t even wearing a red cloak, and his heavy armor had been set aside.

At that moment, he suddenly realized that the powerful and mutating heavy swordsman he had attacked earlier was clearly the leader of the heavy swordsmen in the evil Duke Galipodi’s army nearby. Only this could explain why he had eight masked servants attending him, and why his bearing and resilience were so different from the one before him now.

William Ford thought for a moment, then rolled in the nearby mud, deliberately making heavy footsteps as he ran, panting, toward the masked servant on guard. The man was naturally startled and immediately shouted, “Who goes there?”

William Ford, looking utterly disheveled, stumbled and crawled forward a few steps, then his legs gave out and he rolled down the slope into a hollow, intentionally landing face down and pretending to be unconscious.

It was nighttime, and with his face covered by a mask, who could tell if he was real or fake in such a tense atmosphere? He only felt someone turn his body over a few times, then heard the heavy swordsman hurriedly putting on his chainmail, anxiously urging, “You three, go to the camp over there right now. Leave one to help me with my armor. I’ll be there immediately.”

The three masked servants quickly drew their short swords and rushed off. William Ford waited until they had gone some distance, then suddenly stirred, groaning and mumbling, “Sir, sir…”

This action naturally drew the attention of the remaining heavy swordsman and masked servant, who gathered around him. William Ford deliberately struggled as if on the verge of death, his whole body trembling, fingers stretching and curling with great difficulty as he gasped, “Sword… sword…”

The masked servant beside him couldn’t wait any longer and handed him his sword. William Ford gripped the sword tightly, holding it level at his chest, as if finally gaining a sense of security, and whispered to the heavy swordsman, “Before he died, the lord said you would inherit his position.”

His words were vague, yet just clear enough to be understood. The heavy swordsman was startled, then overjoyed, and couldn’t help but lean in and ask, “What?”

At that instant, William Ford easily swung the sword and slit his throat!

Next, he only had to deal with a single terrified masked servant. With the double attribute bonus in this world, it took him less than half a minute to finish him off.

After that, he lay down and played dead again. For him, this was not only a repeat of an old trick, but had become a habitual tactic. Using the same method, and at the cost of half his health bar, the three masked servants were also killed by William Ford. After the initial awkwardness and unfamiliarity of killing, William Ford found himself gradually adapting to this way of life—choosing between killing or being killed, surviving under the shadow of death. Not only did this thrill and excite him, it also allowed him to escape the pain and troubles of the real world.

After clearing out this camp, the quest “Mission 1: Enter the world of the Round Table Knights, familiarize yourself with its rules, and near the Village of the First Act of War, kill seven masked servants and two heavy swordsmen, and earn more than 300 points” was nearly complete—he was only 30 points short.

William Ford played with the intermediate short sword in his hand, thinking for a while. In the wooden chest before him were three decorative silver ornaments, specifically for exchanging for 70 points. He hesitated for a long time, then put them away instead of selling them, and turned to head back to his dwelling outside the town. His intuition told him that it wasn’t time to crazily rack up points to finish this first mission—at least, not yet.

William Ford went straight back to his shabby little cabin outside the village, lay down, and fell into a deep sleep. He wasn’t worried at all about being attacked. He was alone, a newcomer to this world, still getting used to this survival mode, and facing enemies on two fronts. If there were to be some organized night raid as well, then the description of this map could hardly be called “easy”!

After a good night’s sleep, William Ford woke up feeling not only full of energy, but also completely healed, and even his digitized personal stats had improved significantly. They were now: Strength 4 (3), Agility 5 (4), Stamina 6 (4), Spirit 13 (13). The numbers in parentheses were his stats when he first entered the world. Strength and Agility had each increased by one, Stamina by two, while Spirit remained the same, likely because he hadn’t used it at all.

However, William Ford was not overly optimistic about the future. The reason his attributes had grown so quickly was that his body had untapped potential to begin with, which was fully brought out after last night’s battle. From now on, further growth would only come through his own hard work and training.

He stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the chilly yet incredibly fresh morning air in the countryside. Having grown used to the concrete jungle of the real world, this lush and tranquil medieval countryside was truly intoxicating.