Weston's words left Yuri and the other two stunned.
For a Wizard to abandon refining his magic and instead train his body felt like putting the cart before the horse—yet the three had to admit Weston's idea made some sense.
"To fix the weakness of close combat, I started looking for ways to build their stamina years ago, but systematic training affects growth, so we settled for plain old brawls."
"Huh?! Brawls?!"
"Crude, but it works."
"No wonder your guild's always so rowdy, it turns out the Guild Master encourages it!"
After a bit of banter, Yuri officially began his lesson.
Weston finally saw the "Fighting Techniques" he'd spoken of.
In truth, it was simply how to regulate breathing, condition the body, throw punches, generate force, anticipate the enemy's next move, and strike where it hurts most.
Yuri explained it all earnestly; after dozens of minutes many kids looked enlightened, though some still seemed lost.
"Dry talk is boring, anyone want to spar so we can see this in action?"
"Who's up for a fight to test the lesson and give everyone a demo?"
Realizing the "students" hadn't absorbed everything, Yuri switched methods and invited the kids to fight.
"A fight?"
"Me, me!!"
"No, let me…"
"I love fighting!"
Everyone here today was a battle-lover; hearing Yuri wanted a partner, they all leapt at the chance.
Just then—
"Quiet, all of you!"
"Let me!"
Weston barked, silencing the kids, and stepped out of the crowd.
"Huh… Guild Master?!"
They froze, then broke into gleeful grins at the prospect of a show.
Weston's surprise move not only hushed the guild but also startled Yuri's group.
"Weston?! You're fighting personally?"
"Yes,do you have any objections?"
Weston tossed off his coat, clenched his fists, and smiled eagerly.
Yuri blinked. "Er… not really, but why?"
"As I said, I've trained in fighting, but for three years no one in Tenrou Village has been worth facing."
"Even the strongest adults last under a minute, let alone these kids."
"Today a real expert shows up, how could I miss it?"
"Well then… all right!"
Yuri had hesitated, but changed his mind at those words.
From the crowd's reaction, Weston wasn't bluffing.
If he really was the village's strongest, testing him now would help when they tried to steal the Tenrou Jade later!
They took positions two meters apart; Precht stood as Referee while everyone else backed off five meters, breathless with anticipation.
"Relax, I'll stick to pure technique, no magic."
"Heh… don't regret it!"
Precht glanced at both, confirmed the rules, then shouted, "Ready? Fight!"
The instant the word fell, Precht sprang aside and the two fighters rushed each other with sharp cries.
Punch!
Sidestep!
Kick!
Duck!
Fists whistled, legs whooshed.
Yuri, a professional Treasure Hunter, packed thunderous, razor-sharp moves.
Weston's skills were self-taught: tips from village elders, brawls with guild kids, hunts against huge beasts, pure street-brawling ingenuity.
In a word: unorthodox.
Yet unorthodox had perks: most of all, uncanny foresight.
Each time Yuri prepared an attack, Weston read the angle from a toe's tilt, a glance, a twitch of muscle.
Just before the fist landed, he distorted in an awkward yet perfect evasion, turning the momentum into a surprise elbow or knee.
This foresight came not only from experience but from Super Archive data analytics.
With the Super Archive, Weston could simulate every bodily change in combat—
to throw a left hook, the body simply couldn't mimic the motion for a right cross.
Feints might fool the face, but bones and muscles don't lie; watch closely and the tells were obvious.
The text combined those cues, instantly calculated the strike point, and crafted the perfect counter.
Over the years Weston compiled these counters into a manual he called the "Battle Guide," memorizing every page.
He'd just never had the chance to use it.
The villagers were too weak; none lasted long enough for practice.
Now that Yuri's group had arrived, he could finally sate his craving for a real fight.
Slap-slap-slap… thud-thud-thud… they traded solid blows for ten minutes; Weston went from barely holding on to gradually adapting, even starting to reverse the pressure.
If Yuri was a tiger, Weston was a cheetah, both apex hunters, each with strengths: the former raw power, the latter blinding speed.
The onlookers were dazzled, blood pumping, faces flushed, itching to jump in themselves.
"They're both amazing!"
"Look! Big Brother Yuri's matching the Guild Master! Didn't he say he was a Sea Merchant? How's he so strong?"
"Of course! A Sea Merchant is a man out to conquer the ocean—think about it, you can't be weak if you're challenging the sea!"
"O-oh! That explains it…