The legendary warrior

Chapter 54 Bertha

"Aren't you that guy everyone's been talking about in the Snow Sect? The one doesn't have the spiritual meridian?" Bertha came to the front of Ricky, put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him and said with a sly grin.

Ricky's heart raced. Bertha's sweet fragrance engulfed the atmosphere. The trees and the flowers in the mountaintops, the sweet nothings, and hearts started to pop in Ricky's mind. He flushed a bit, turning his cheeks pink. This made him feel a little bit embarrassed.

"Yes, I am," Ricky responded respectfully while taking a step backwards. The embarrassing scene kept on repeating in his head. Was it romantic? He felt more and more embarrassed as he thought about it. This made him the little awkward boy you'd see who's clearly crushing on an idol. He averted Bertha's eyes during conversations as much as he could.

"It seems like that the legend is true. Maybe you really are a genius. And because of that, you might get to the eighth grade of Skin Refinement even without the spiritual meridian." Bertha continued, "Since Grace entrusted you to me... well, before anything else, let's test your power!"

Suddenly...

Ice started to surround Ricky. Icy cold crystals formed around him which made him shiver to the core, including his breath which he puffed out like a cloud.

In an instant, he felt the powerful cold palm generated by Bertha. This cold palm mixed with strong blood vitality and rushed to his system.

Time was of the essence. He did not overthink about what he was about to do, as he was running out of time. He crossed his arms and immediately tried to resist the strong attack made by Bertha, but it was not that effective. He was still being frozen literally.

Ricky's powers rendered useless to Bertha's attack. He was trembling, with his insides crunching and twisting in pain. There was a loud thud as he fell on the ground crying in pain.

The disciples stopped on their tracks upon seeing Ricky on the ground. They were confused as to what it was all about. They all stood there, waiting for an explanation for they had no idea what grudges Bertha could possibly hold against this Ricky.

All of the disciples knew that Grace and Bertha were very close. They were like sisters, as the disciples thought, but even if there was a chance that Bertha did not like Ricky, this did not give her any right to treat him like this, not for Grace's sake!

'Is there any feud between Ricky and Bertha?' Many disciples thought. All of the disciples took pity on Ricky who was on the floor in excruciating pain. His face was scrunched like a paper you'd throw out. His arms were holding his stomach where all the pain was concentrated. He was beaten into a pulp. Everyone just felt sorry for him.

In the area of the Snow Sect, Bertha had a strong reputation for being the ill-tempered that she was. Anyone who would dare cross her path and offend her would suffer the consequences. No one would be spared, and it never ended well.

Bertha took a step back as soon as she felt the pleasure in seeing Ricky suffer. She drew her hand back, and watched Ricky unfold as he felt the pain lessen.

Ricky was battered and bruised--his hair down to his toes was a complete mess. His clothes were torn from the excruciating pain he went through, not to mention his face that was contorted in pain, and his arms were bruised from all the wriggling he did on the ground as he screamed in pain. He was catching his breath. He was tired from what Bertha did to him.

There was no doubt that Bertha was strong and powerful, but this only landed superficial bruises on Ricky--no internal damage compared to what she was used to see from other foes.

This made Ricky think that the pain he felt was somewhat rational.

"Wow, you're stronger than I expected!" she said with a smile and applauded.

"Do you see that bundle of firewood over there? You have to chop them all tonight. And when you are done, you can start to see how I cast." Bertha pointed her finger towards the casting area and said, "This is where the magic happens." Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

Ricky was stunned at the pile of trees that he would chop. They were like small hills! So many of them! There were about a thousand trees over there with a diameter of about a meter. Letting out a sigh, he thought he should grab the ax and start working, but he just couldn't move.

Hearing what he had to do, all eyes were on him again. The disciples just kept on staring at him with pitiful eyes.

"Bertha, I'm not watching anymore. I just want to leave." He turned his head around listlessly, looked at Bertha and said sadly.

At this moment, he truly understood the meaning of "good will be rewarded with good, and evil with evil".

"I do not agree with you. Grace entrusted you to me and I cannot let you go back without learning anything!" Bertha let out a laugh

and then smiled at the disciples next to her and said, "Remember, you guys can't help him and do not let him leave this courtyard. Otherwise, you will not have a good end."

"Okay, Bertha. We got it!" The disciples agreed out of fear. They all nodded their heads in respect after hearing Bertha's instructions. Clearly, they were used to being overpowered by Bertha.

"And one more thing... If you can't finish this task by tomorrow, you will also not have a good end."

She told to Ricky, and walked back to her room, only left Ricky and other disciples in the courtyard.

"Ricky, although we do sympathize with you, you have to chop this firewood on your own. We are so sorry. " One of the disciples came in front of Ricky, held out his hand and placed it on his shoulder, and let out a big sigh.

"You have to finish it as soon as possible, or there will be severe consequences."

After all the instructions and the sympathy expressed by the disciples, they all went back to their own casting areas with heavy hearts. They can only help Ricky with words and not by any action. They felt for Ricky and never wished that on anyone. They could only hope the best for Ricky at this point.

He gathered up all his strength and desire to finish the task. He then walked up to the enormous pile of wood and hard trunks, and started chopping the wood as fast as he could.

All because he didn't want to give Bertha another reason to beat him into a pulp. He might not survive the next one, he thought.

As for leaving, it was impossible for him at this moment, because all disciples casting here were inner disciples and Blood Purification warriors, and he couldn't defeat them all. Should he try to escape, he would not be able to defend himself since everyone would not want to dare defy Bertha's instructions.

In the casting area, there was another sound of chopping wood could be heard, with a rhythm on it. "Chop...chop. chop. chop...chop."

In fact, if you were observant enough, you could hear that there was a rhythm hidden in the sound of chopping wood.

Cruel as it might seem, it wasn't really that bad for Ricky to be chopping wood. After all, the process of chopping was not just some punishment for Ricky. He could also practice the Devouring Skill while

doing it.

This was also an avenue for Ricky to enhance his abilities, an experience that might actually bring something for him--more control, more grasp of his power and skill.

It was not until dawn the next day that he completely chopped the pile of hard trunks and coniferous leaves into firewood. But he found that he was not tired at all; instead, he was full of energy.

"It seems like the manual can eliminate the fatigue of the warrior," he murmured, while smiling faintly.

In the early of the morning, Bertha came.

Contrary to what she wore the day before, she was looking chic as ever. She wore a black dress, which showed her perfect figure, unlike the skirt that she wore yesterday. She tied her hair up in a bun which showed her beautiful and regal face. She was a prancing queen that morning.

Her promises to Grace were never forgotten. She wanted to start the casting today, as she promised her best friend.

Knowing Ricky, she was not surprised to see that he was able to finish all the chopping. After all, she knew him to be that guy who could not be beaten, who proved to everyone that he was the best in what he does.

"Ricky, today's casting process would rely on how much you learned from the rhythm and artistic concepts of yesterday's task. Do you understand?" Bertha said solemnly.

Casting was a sacred process for any casting master. It developed the values of a true warrior and more importantly hones a warrior's skills and abilities. Bertha devoted all her time that day that she had to abandon any other task that she had. She was focused on this lesson.

"Yes, I understand!" Ricky said firmly, and nodded after seeing her serious eyes.

Meanwhile, all disciples in the yard gathered around. Obviously, like Ricky, they all came here to watch the process of casting.

Bertha was a special disciple of the Elder Samuel, which was why she was very proficient in casting. She was a casting master in the intermediate Mortal Level. Apparently, all disciples around here would be able to benefit a lot from watching this done especially by her.

Under the fire, the molten hot casting material in the tripod had melted and boiled as she began to make her own cast implement. All eyes were on her, on her hands and how she doing the procedure. She was very careful with handling the pots and avoiding spills.

Ding~

With the rhythm sound of the beat, all disciples beside began to watch her attentively, including Ricky. He was not able to talk the whole time he was watching the casting process. His jaws were a gape, he almost drooled at the beauty of the whole process!

What he did yesterday was not that far from what Bertha was doing now. It was a fact that all manuals in the world were born for casting--a stepping stone, if one must put into words. Just like different paths led to the same destination. The manual labor that he did yesterday would do him good for casting.

Over and over again, Bertha continued to use the method of manual, beating the cast implement, just like how Ricky chopped wood in the courtyard. The rhythm, the beat, it was there. The heat, the pounding of the material, everything was magically in sync.

The process was not manual labor to the eyes of Ricky and the disciples. From what they saw, it was not casting at all. It was art in its purest form.