But he was unwilling to just leave the space like that. He knew that the ten hours of cultivation time each day were his greatest hope. If he truly wanted to achieve something, he couldn’t afford to waste even a single minute or second.

“Let’s take a look at this Eighteen Strokes of Chopping Wood first!”

Taking out the saber technique that David Thompson had given him, William Foster used this hour to thoroughly study the set. Although he had never practiced saber techniques before and wasn’t familiar with the basics, after reading through it, he still had a feeling of: So this is what saber techniques are supposed to be like! That kind of realization.

This was mainly because this saber technique was designed as an introductory set; many of the moves were basic saber skills, and the techniques weren’t complicated. If you summed up the Eighteen Strokes of Chopping Wood in one word, the key would be “precision”!

To train accuracy, it even used chopping wood as practice—that’s also where the name of the technique came from. Of course, William Foster suspected that the person who created this basic saber technique was a super lazy guy, so lazy that he couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a proper name.

After memorizing the saber technique, the hour happened to be up. William Foster put the booklet away and waited quietly. After a moment, his vision blurred, and he found himself back in his own room.

“Luckily there aren’t many people in the pavilion, and everyone has their own bedroom. Otherwise, I’d have to go outside to find a quiet place!”

Muttering to himself, William Foster felt there was nothing else to do. Although his body wasn’t tired, he was mentally exhausted, so after tidying up a bit, he lay down and went straight to sleep.

He slept soundly, but was vaguely awakened by the sound of commotion.

“What’s going on?”

Shili Pavilion was a very remote place, surrounded by mountains and dense forests. Usually, not to mention at night, even at dusk you wouldn’t hear a single human voice. For it to be so noisy tonight, something was clearly wrong.

Opening the window, he vaguely saw firelight. With just a glance, William Foster immediately realized what direction it was coming from.

“It’s the jail!”

There were two bandits locked up in the jail—the very ones that William Foster and the villagers had captured.

“Could it be their accomplices got word and came to rescue them?”

If that was the case, things would be troublesome. What’s more, there were hardly any people at Shili Pavilion now—besides the pavilion chief David Thompson and constable William Foster, there was only one patrol officer and another constable like William Foster.

There had been another patrol officer, but he had gone back to the town office to report and bring reinforcements. David Thompson had planned to wait for the patrol house to send more men before dealing with the bandits lurking nearby. Who would have thought these people would be so bold as to attack Shili Pavilion directly?

William Foster was still in a daze when he suddenly heard a shrill scream. Snapping back to his senses, he quickly got dressed, grabbed the solid wooden baton issued to him along with his uniform—constables weren’t given sabers, only a baton—and rushed out the door.

As soon as William Foster stepped out, he saw the other constable, about the same rank as himself, stumbling over, his face covered in blood and full of terror. His baton was nowhere to be seen, and even his patrol uniform was so tattered it was barely recognizable.

“Run… run!”

When the guy saw William Foster, he shouted and then staggered off in another direction, disappearing in moments.

Behind their quarters was a dense forest—once you slipped in, it was easy to hide and not be found.

Seeing this, William Foster really wanted to turn and hide in the woods as well. But if he did that, wouldn’t everything he’d said before be just empty words?

“Running away at the first sign of trouble—how can I ever become a master?”

William Foster wasn’t some great hero or champion, nor was he especially brave, but at the very least, he had to go check out the situation, right? If things really were hopeless, he’d at least try to rescue David Thompson before running.

“Let’s go take a look first!”

Gripping his baton, he headed straight for the firelight. He soon arrived at the scene. Standing in the shadows, William Foster went unnoticed, and by the firelight, he could clearly see what was happening.

David Thompson stood there, blood at the corner of his mouth, holding a saber in one hand. Opposite him were just two men—one wielding a long staff, the other holding twin sabers, both grinning coldly at David Thompson.

“Chief Li, Old Bear respects you as a real man. Why not ditch that official skin and join us for a carefree life?”

The man with the staff wore only a short vest, open at the front, revealing a chest full of black hair—just from his appearance, you could tell he was no good.

The man with the twin sabers wore a long robe, standing silently, coldly staring at David Thompson as if he wanted to swallow him whole.

David Thompson sneered, “Frank Miller, I didn’t expect you, the lone bandit, to team up with others. Has someone dug out the bear gall from this black bear?”

This made the staff-wielding man furious. “You’re asking for it! Tonight you won’t escape with your life—watch how I deal with you!”

He then said to the man beside him, “Old Five, don’t interfere. I want to take this bastard alive!”