Grandmaster Of All Job Class

His father rested a bit for the time being until afternoon. Joan exercised a bit after he digested his stomach's food. Not wanting to make his food become fat but muscles.

Inside his room, he was in the lotus position and improving his mana well.

Cultivating his mana well for some more until he reached the bottleneck of the third stage. He will be breaking through in several minutes and so he rested a bit.

It needs more willpower to break through this time around. He drank water to replenish his stamina and focus in small amounts then went back to cultivating.

The specks of mana in his surroundings were absorbed and were circulating inside his body. Making them form in his mana well inside his abdomen. .

In this case, he will have more mana points and mana regeneration. With him doing it, he was gonna break through to the third stage Earth realm.

Focusing some more, he succeeded in his attempt to breakthrough.

It was one of the most memorable breakthroughs in his life and seemed challenging.

Wiping his sweat on his forehead then saw many black impurities in his skin. Thinking of it, he felt lighter than before and can feel the mana rushing through his veins.

Stronger and purer mana was what he felt and it only made him smirk at the moment.

Thinking of things to plan, his father was sitting outside their house, caressing the feathers of the chicken pet he has. Looking at the wheat from afar where it was not yet harvested.

Joan then went to their chicken house then fed the chickens with cracked corn. Collecting eggs to be their afternoon meal. The chickens were clamouring when he fed them outside their home.

Picking up the eggs, he went inside to boil them. Picking up sticks to make a fire then put water on the pot they have.

For some time, he waited for the food to be cooked and he created a makeshift wooden sword. Just for a practice tool. It was the only weapon he has for now. Not having the luxury to buy an iron sword to practice with it made him do such a thing.

Of course, it was just a tool. He also has a staff to practice with and he knows diverse weapons to use as his weaponry.

Conjured weapons were also one way but it takes mana to maintain. Also weaker than ordinary iron swords if you have low mastery of the skill. In great masteries, the weapons can be imbued with enchantments. Of course, real weapons can be enchanted too.

This sums up his conclusion as he has been back to basics. If you will ask Joan, he mastered it in the past but didn't have the mana well suited for him.

So while he was crafting a wooden sword, he was cultivating his mana well.

It was not easy as it uses up a great amount of willpower. Not advisable for newbies who lacked the focus trait for it to be usable.

Even though it was hard, Stephen proved to be a genius. He managed to know such techniques at his young age. After creating his wooden sword, he went to swing it left and right to test its balance and weight.

If it was perfectly made or the distribution of the weight was fine. After several swings, he concluded that it was light as it was made with wood. An ordinary sword with a handguard and a signature on its hilt.

Inscribed with Joan's signature, he smiled as he stared at it. Practising with several swings, he went to show his swordplay to his father. Who went to enjoy his performance.

It was a great display of manoeuvre of the sword. Sadly, his father can't be his sparring partner as he was a farmer. The reality struck with more helplessness on his part.

Joan was semi tired after practising with a sword. Sitting on the chair they have outside, he placed his sword on the table and rested a bit.

The wind blew stronger as it was noon and the sun's radiance was blocked by the clouds. A breezy day without the heat of the sun to harm their skin.

His father was sleeping outside their home and covered his head with his straw hat. Snoring while in the depths of his sleep.

Joan was observing the heavy wind sway the wheat field as he felt troubled by what he has seen. A darkened imagery from afar was what trouble up his mind.

"Dad! There is smoke coming from the east!" Joan exclaimed when he shakes off his father who was snoring.

"Wha....what?" He jolted in his surprise and he saw the fire rising in the east.

"Fire! Fire! No, no, no! The wheat! We must save the wheat!" John shouted as he runs to his carriage.

His face was troubled and was like a crumpled paper as he turned pale. Expressing great worry plastered on his face and eyes were almost going to shed a tear.

He seated on his chair and whips his horse so loud as the whip sounded like a cracked crisp cracker.

Leaving immediately when he saw the wheat field burning. A sense of dread struck Joan as he realized all of their efforts for almost a season to harvest the wheat will be wasted.

Paying their debt for the last year was what they thought and all will be for naught if it was not prevented from turning to ashes.

Their horse neighed as it galloped along the way towards the burning wheat field. His father whips her nonstop.

Joan felt alarmed as he heard the warning bells sound as the tower saw the fire.

Ting ting ting ting!

"There is a fire at the wheat field! Everyone!" Shouted the tower guard on the tower.

Every villager went to put out the fire as they carried buckets of water. All seemed to be panicking on the process.

Joan hastily went to the tower and saw that the fire was being blown by the wind. Black smokes rose from afar and he can only shake in despair. As for his skill of being Mage has not yet reached the level of being able to call up storm and hail.

He still wanted to help but he can only offer a water ball for supplying the water ration in the meantime.

He helped give water to the villagers to put out the fire but the wind was not helping. Blowing the fire towards them and boosting it up. Making it reach the villager's houses nearby.

Soon enough, while they were still fetching water. Shouts from afar were heard, seeing them having weapons and crude armours with them signified that they were bandits.

Descending were armed men patched with axes and swords. Crude shields made of wood and faces painted with red dye in their cheeks. If not dye then blood was on their faces. Some of them already made it as facial wash that made their faces gruesome and spine chilling.

"Bandits!" Shouted one villager.

"They started the fire! They were the ones who did it!" Shouted by the village girl in her mid-thirties.

Soon the bandits flooded the vicinity and they went running towards them. A couple of bandits numbered thirty was descending on the hills and was approaching them.

Joan can only curse on their predicament and so he prepared his wooden sword for the beatings. He was in a bad mood so helping himself to let out steam will do the thing.

On the tower of their village outpost, he can only stare at the burning wheat and for him, time stopped for a second. They were fast approaching, running towards their direction and so Joan inhaled a handful of air then closed his eyes.

"I will make them pay for what they've done." He opened his eyes and jumped from the tower.

Landing on the ground and dashed to meet the perpetrators. Bandits or barbarians, they were alike and Joan didn't care what will happen to them.