Returning to the Mysterious Era

Chapter 126 - I Used to Be Skinny

All Leon saw was muscles, muscles, and more muscles.

He gulped and looked up.

A figure, nearly 1.9 meters tall, with arms like tree trunks and shoulders that resembled solid tires towered over him in the doorway. The muscles packed on his body looked like chunks of rock and he resembled a steel tower.

Leon noticed that the man’s upper body was bare, glistening with sweat that evaporated into a faint white mist. The heat radiating from him was like a powerful wave, and Leon felt overwhelmed by the oppressive and commanding presence.

His legs felt unsteady. His waist was tense and his chest puffed out. He didn't move a single muscle.

"Why are you just standing there? Come in."

Now that they were face-to-face without a door in between them, Leon felt like thunder was rumbling above his head. The deep, booming voice made his eardrums tingle.

What the hell! This is Twilight? A member of the Bolt Sect who is known for their agility? This has to be a joke!

Leon took a deep breath and forced a strained smile. "I’m sorry, sir. I must have come to the wrong place. I sincerely apologize."

"Wrong place?" The man frowned. "Didn’t you say you were from the Black Rain Manor Archery Club? I'm a member too."

Sensing the man’s displeasure, Leon’s slim waist tensed even more. "Um... Is this Garden Street, No. 29?"

"Yeah, it’s written right there on the sign," the man confirmed. He then reached up and tore down a metal plaque from above the door, the nails holding it in place flying out as he pulled it off with ease.

"This is Garden Street, No. 29. It’s clearly written here." He waved the metal plaque, which indeed had those words engraved on it. He slammed it back into place above the door.

Bang!

Dust cascaded down. The cement wall now had a handprint indented in there, with the metal plaque firmly lodged within it.

"Cough, cough..." Leon had inhaled some dust because his mouth had been hanging open in shock.

"Yes, it is. But..." Leon glanced at the man's rugged face, wild gray hair, and unkempt beard. He couldn’t reconcile this image with the slim, handsome, and gentle Twilight in the photo. The difference was too great!

Under the man’s intense scrutiny, Leon pulled out a photo from his pocket. It was a full-body shot of Twilight, a standard Bolt Sect member.

"This is the person I’m looking for. You don’t seem to..." He paused. "This isn’t you, is it?"

The man looked at the photo and nodded. "That's me."

"Really?" Leon was in utter disbelief.

"Yes." The man held the photo up to his face for comparison. "I was much skinnier back then."

"But..." Leon began.

"Let's not waste time. Come in."

A large hand shot out, and although the Bolt Sect was known for their agility, Leon couldn't react in time. The next thing he knew, he was inside the house, and the door had slammed shut behind him.

Clang!

It sounded like the metal plaque outside had fallen again.

Leon looked up at the enormous man, feeling incredibly insecure. Cold sweat soaked through his shirt. I really, really hope he really is a member of the Bolt Sect... Otherwise, I’m doomed!

Fifteen minutes later, Leon and Cassius were sitting on a brown-yellow sofa in the living room.

Cassius's posture was the very definition of "casual," with his legs crossed and his massive body sinking into the sofa. The white porcelain cup that he held looked tiny in his huge hands. Cassius raised the cup to his mouth and downed its contents in one gulp.

Leon, on the other hand, was hunched into a nervous ball, his legs glued together like a lady’s. He took small sips of coffee while shooting the odd glance at Cassius.

Clink.

The empty porcelain cup was placed on the table.

Leon jumped, still not fully recovered from the shock. After comparing the photo with Cassius at length, Leon finally saw the resemblance in the eyes and contours of his face. Plus, he had checked the two marks on Cassius’s broad hands, confirming that he was indeed Twilight.

Compared to the Twilight now with his incredibly muscular frame, he looked like sticks and bones in the photo.

At the constant staring, Cassius spoke calmly, "Don’t be surprised. I was weak and sickly as a child, and I also fell very ill a few months ago. That's why I decided to train hard so I could build a healthy, disease-free body. It would be such a great insult to a marked-one if I died from illness rather than in battle with dark creatures."

There was a certain logic to Cassius’s somewhat nonsensical explanation. Leon nodded in understanding, although he still found it hard to accept.

Cassius didn't just look healthier with his current physique; he looked like a bear, with an even more exaggerated form than the Werebeast Sect’s high-level bloodline transformations. He was like a towering iron fortress. It didn’t quite fit the image of a Bolt Sect member. It was like seeing styles from two different dimensions.

Leon took a small sip of coffee and exhaled. "So, are you willing to join our Bolt Sect shield-level group mission? It's just in the suburbs of Nington City so it's not far. The mission starts tonight." He glanced at Cassius, fearing he might refuse.

"Of course," Cassius agreed immediately.

Why would he pass up the chance for dark essence? Even though he was planning an experiment involving the Black Rain Manor, it would be fine to earn some extra rewards along the way.

Leon was sincere as he warned, "Mr. Twilight, I must warn you that this group mission is quite dangerous, much more so than solo missions. People could get hurt."

"No problem. I trust in the abilities of my Bolt Sect companions," Cassius replied nonchalantly.

His confidence came from his own power, from the strength of the second-level accelerated blood flow. After over nearly six months of completing missions without rest, Cassius had restored much of his strength, and the pace had only quickened toward the end.

Since his strength had recovered so rapidly, shield-level missions posed zero danger to him. In the last couple of months, he had been steamrolling through missions, attacking strongholds directly, and eliminating all enemies. There were times when stronger foes unexpectedly appeared, but he took it in stride and dealt with them easily.

Based on some estimations and information, Cassius felt his strength had surpassed the shield-level, sword-level, and badge-level, and he was now getting closer to the knight-level. It felt like he was cheating with his level of power allowing him to complete shield-level missions. Other Hellsings couldn’t replicate his situation. The best they could do at the shield-level was to have the strength of a beginner sword-level, but no higher.

Cassius had two unique advantages.

One, the Wind Elephant Covert Martial Arts combined perfectly with the Black Rain Manor’s Soul Power, working like a chain with multiple gears. With a single powerful push, an ordinary Hellsing's low-level gears might only move forward one meter, but Cassius's advanced gears could propel him five or six meters, maybe even more than ten meters.

Although it was unclear why the Black Rain Manor didn't have the Covert Martial Arts path, it worked uniquely in Cassius's favor.

Two, the advanced mastery of Wind Elephant Fist allowed him to control his rapidly increasing power.

Normally, one would need to reach the third-level accelerated blood flow to master such power, but Cassius could do this due to his prior high-level experience. The other Hellsings had no hope of doing the same.

Regardless of supernatural powers or skill knowledge, they couldn't enhance nor upgrade too much at once. There was a cost to every method from Black Rain Manor as they were both deformed and flawed. If the power exceeded one's control, it would either drive the marked-one mad or cause them to explode.

There was an old saying among the Hellsing that had been passed down for years: "Greed is foolishness! Greed is death!"

Besides the dangerous supernatural methods, there was also danger associated with using Soul Power to quickly master skills. Cassius had practiced enough to understand each step and situation, which allowed him to expedite his progress. Ordinary marked-ones faced a different problem: the process of mastering skills through Soul Power was, indeed, extremely fast. A slight deviation in their mental imagery or a minor flaw in their skill framework could lead to disastrous results; they could either explode or wake up with a deformed body.

Training to be light on one's feet could lead to twisted limbs; training one's hands could fracture the bones; training bones could result in paralysis; and training the muscles could lead to severe atrophy. All these outcomes were highly probable.

Every method of enhancement was a double-edged sword. As good as it was to be fast, there was also a chance that one could veer off course and be unable to course correct in time. The final result was either death or being completely disposable.

Thus, the Covert Martial Arts was truly remarkable!

Then again, the Wind Elephant Sect had still been wiped out by the Blood of Fate...

"It’s almost 9 p.m. Shall we?" Leon set down his teacup.

"Alright, wait for me a moment. I need to grab something." Cassius stood up and walked up to the room on the second floor. A short while later, he came down wearing a large black cloak, carrying a bulky item beneath it. Judging by the shape, it seemed to be a mechanical crossbow.

"Okay, let's go."

The two of them opened the door and headed for the outskirts of Nington City. Half an hour later, they arrived in front of a two-story house with white walls and a black base. Two figures, one tall and robust and the other short and lean, entered.

A low wall, white plaster peeling and revealing patches of black, wrapped around the small building. There was a lot of withered grass tucked in the corners. The ground was gray, hardened, and frozen.

Crunch.

The black soles of their shoes crushed the clumped dirt. Cassius stood in front of the light yellow wooden door and rapped gently.

Knock, knock, knock.

A familiar voice, Darkblade's, called out, "Who is it?"

"It's the Black Rain Manor Archery Club, sir," Cassius said, using the code for the Bolt Sect.

"Coming." Footsteps approached quickly from inside. Before long, the wooden door opened with a click. Darkblade's familiar face came into view.

At first, he stared in bewilderment, then his gaze moved from Cassius's chest upward, finally settling on his face.

"You... Who are you?!"

"It's Twilight! It's only been a few months, Darkblade, and you've already forgotten me?" Cassius raised his right hand to show the mark on his hand.

"Twilight?! What?" Stunned, Darkblade gawked at him. But as he stared at Cassius's serious face, he scrutinized him more closely. Gradually, the slender figure from his memory matched up with the strong physique before him.

Holy shit! What did that elegant and handsome youth from a few months ago do to transform into such an appearance? Though, he did seem quite powerful now...

"My old friend! Come in, let's talk."

Cassius and his imposing physique pushed his way in, draping one strong arm over Darkblade's shoulder and dragging him inside. Leon sighed and quickly followed.

In a spacious reception room on the second floor, eight or nine members of the Bolt Sect sat in yellow armchairs around a large round table. Some looked hesitant to speak, creating a somewhat eerie atmosphere. Most of their gazes were fixed on a spot near the window where a burly man, clearly a head taller than the others, sat. His broad body blocked the sunlight, casting a distorted, massive shadow on the wooden table. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The organizer of this shield-level task was Darkblade, who had been at the shield-level for a long time and was a seasoned Hellsing. Finally, Darkblade couldn't resist asking, "Twilight, how did you become so, um, muscular?"

Cassius explained his previous reasons once more. Since Darkblade was familiar with Twilight's past, he found no reason to question it.

An orphan who had essentially raised himself and his sister, and was all too familiar with the concept of hunger. After suffering that devastating blow from losing his sister to malnutrition and poor living conditions, it was natural that he sought out ways to develop a strong physique. It was indeed reasonable!

"Actually, I was exploring a different combat direction for our Bolt Sect, like muscle-powered mechanical crossbows." As Cassius spoke, he reached behind him.

Thud!

The table shook.

A mechanical crossbow appeared before Cassius. Its shape and decoration were similar to a regular crossbow, except it was much larger—about twice the size of a normal crossbow! The arrows were similarly twice as thick. Just the sight of it gave off a heavy, menacing feeling.

"I believe that our Bolt Sect’s Deng Tingda Storm of Arrows has taken a wrong path!" Cassius looked around. "Storm of Arrows focuses on archery techniques and body techniques, but the Bolt Sect has placed too much emphasis on body techniques, resulting in many members having slender and agile figures that allow them to evade and hunt dark creatures. But this is precarious. We should reconsider and return to the primary focus of Storm of Arrows—arrow damage. This means we need thicker, heavier steel arrows. To shoot these arrows, we need larger and heavier mechanical crossbows. And to handle these crossbows comfortably, we clearly need to have a robust physique!

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying just because you have a stronger physique, you should start fighting in close combat with dark creatures. That's unrealistic. Even the most enhanced Hellsing physique can’t go head-to-head with them. But we can enhance the firepower of the crossbow, and make it into a siege crossbow capable of firing massive arrows. The dark creatures will be minced meat! For this, a strong physique is necessary; my muscle training just came hand-in-hand when I was trying to improve my archery skills."

Cassius solemnly laid out his points amidst the skeptical looks from the other Bolt Sect members, though he was just putting on a show for the sect. He was essentially saying, "I’ve been building up my muscles to become a better archer!"

"Well, what you said is one way of doing it." Darkblade nodded. "My idea is slightly different. Instead, we could design a high-power, large crossbow that requires two or three people to operate. This could provide the effective long-range fire support we need in dangerous group missions."

Cassius paused, then shrugged with a hint of amusement.

Afterward, Darkblade and some other members of the Bolt Sect hashed out the details of their night mission. Cassius also received specific information about the target: a family of eight Blood Races.

No wonder the Bolt Sect had been gathering members before the mission; their number was almost equal to that of the Hellsings. If they didn't, the sect would suffer heavy losses.

One after another, three to four more members arrived, making a total of thirteen Bolt Sect members in the hall. They were now roughly one and a half times the size of the target and could now move out. There would likely be many casualties, but that was inevitable.

Cassius ate a simple lunch and dinner there. By the time he checked the time, it was already around 11:30 p.m.

The reason they decided to strike at night was because although sunlight did weaken vampires, it was minimal. Additionally, the vampires scattered during the day, making it hard to capture them all at once. At least, when night fell and the clock struck at midnight, they would gather in one place to enjoy their meal.

In Nington City, at the Plinka Manor in the suburbs, the night was deep and the sky was pitch-black. The wind pushed huge clouds across the sky, obscuring the moonlight. On the road outside the manor, there was the thundering sound of footsteps.

Several shadowy figures moved quickly toward the manor, with a particularly large figure cloaked in black amongst them.