Morning Drills at the Supply Depot
After a long day of travel, even Victor, who had superhuman stamina, was a little tired. After inspecting the outpost in the evening, he went back to the room arranged by the garrison officer to rest.
The next morning, Victor got up early for his morning exercise as usual, and his guards, who were aware of their viscount's habit, followed suit.
However, perhaps due to the exhaustion of the men and women over the past two days, these guards were physically and mentally exhausted, and when they clashed with Victor again, they all collapsed at the first touch.
The soldiers at the outpost who were watching the sparring match found it strange and privately believed that the guards had deliberately lost to Victor.
The soldiers were all outspoken, and quite a few blurted out their ideas, which were overheard by the guards who were resting nearby.
Several guards immediately spoke up in rebuttal, but since they were all low-ranking officers, the surrounding soldiers naturally dared not refute them.
However, they didn't believe what the guards said was true; on the contrary, they looked unconvinced.
Victor noticed these disputes and, considering that the morning exercise had not yet ended, simply asked the garrison officer to organize the soldiers of the garrison to participate.
Victor also offered a prize: if you could encounter him one-on-one, you would receive a gold coin; and if you survived ten rounds against him, you would receive a Silver Coin.
This prize was naturally very attractive to all the soldiers. They all believed that Victor's skills were certainly not weak, but not too much stronger. Even if they couldn't actually fight him, they could still get a Silver Coin after ten rounds, which was almost enough for a month's salary.
Not to mention that a Silver Coin was a generous sum for the militiamen, who only received pay during wartime and were given only rations at other times.
Soon, twelve soldiers, confident in their skills, donned cotton armor and wooden weapons and marched onto the Drill Ground. Just when they thought they were about to face Victor one-on-one,
Victor announced, "Time is of the essence. I have other things to do in a moment. You can all come at me together. As long as one of you manages to touch me, everyone will receive a reward."
When they first heard Victor say that, even though they knew the man in front of them was their lord, the soldiers were still resentful.
When they heard that there would be a reward even if everyone participated together, everyone got excited. Wouldn't it be a chance to make a big score today?
Soon, under the command of a squad leader, everyone lined up in a small horizontal formation. The front row consisted of three soldiers carrying shields and short sticks, while the back row consisted of nine soldiers carrying long sticks.
Although there were both regular soldiers and militiamen among them, they were stationed at the outpost and worked together very well. At the platoon leader's call, they cautiously surrounded Victor.
Looking at the well-organized formation before him, Victor couldn't help but nod in approval. It seemed that the soldiers stationed at the outpost had not neglected their training.
However, Victor didn't care. If it were real combat on the battlefield, he would definitely have to be careful, since regular troops wearing heavy armor and wielding spears and blades would be really difficult to deal with.
However, these soldiers wielding wooden sticks in front of me, well, at most I'll get hit a few times, and even if my cotton armor is sturdy, it might still hurt a bit.
Victor exhaled and held his training sword horizontally in front of him.
"Charge!" the captain roared. The three men in the front row advanced like a wall, their wooden shields raised, while short sticks sneered from under the shields' edges, aiming for Victor's knees and ankles.
Almost simultaneously, nine long staffs from the rear row, like venomous snakes spitting their tongues, burst forth from the gaps in the shield, aiming straight for his chest, abdomen, head, and face. The shadows of the staffs blocked all angles of evasion.
Instead of retreating, Victor advanced. He stomped his left foot on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust, and at the same time, his heavy training sword delivered a swift upward thrust!
"Snap! Snap! Snap!"
Three sharp cracks rang out almost simultaneously! The three thick wooden shields in the front row shattered instantly, as if struck by a battering ram! The enormous impact struck the three shield-bearers as if they had been struck by lightning. They groaned and staggered backward, their right hands gripping the clubs cracking and the short clubs flying out of their hands.
The moment the shield shattered, the long staffs from the back row arrived! Victor's greatsword, still swung with momentum, spun around! The heavy blade, carrying immense and unstoppable power, swung out like a giant iron broom!
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang..."
A series of dull thuds! Seven or eight long clubs that had been thrust at him were bent and broken by the sword! The shadows of the clubs instantly dissipated. The soldiers holding the clubs felt an irresistible force coming from the clubs, their arms trembling and going numb. Some lost their grip on the clubs, while others were thrown about, club and all, and the tight formation was instantly torn open.
Victor moved like lightning, bursting through the gap in one step! He did not use the blade to hurt anyone; the huge sword was as light as a wooden stick in his hand.
The sword's spine struck a soldier's lower back precisely as he tried to regain his balance, causing him to fall to the ground. The guard slammed into another soldier's elbow joint, causing his entire arm to go limp instantly. The counterweight at the end of the hilt, like a venomous snake, struck a third soldier under the armpit, causing him to groan as half of his body went numb.
The remaining soldiers wanted to regroup, but Victor was already like a tiger among sheep.
The heavy training sword in his hand transformed into a dazzling black blur, striking, bumping, tapping, and sweeping! Each contact was accompanied by the cracking of wood, the thud of leather armor, and the groans of soldiers in pain.
It possesses astonishing strength and strikes with cunning and precise angles, specifically targeting joints, tendons, and the wrists of those wielding weapons.
In less than ten breaths, no one was left standing on the Drill Ground.
Twelve soldiers lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, with broken wooden shields and stick fragments scattered everywhere.
Victor stood leaning on his sword, his breathing steady. He looked at the squad leader struggling to his feet, walked over, and patted him on the shoulder. "The shield wall was a beat too slow. When the long staff is thrust, the rear ranks should keep up a bit more."
Although you lost, you performed quite well. One Silver Coin each.
After speaking, Victor turned to the side, revealing his back. There was a white ash mark on his shoulder, which was the white ash stuck to the wooden sticks in the soldiers' hands. They had finally run into Victor.