Looking at the extraordinary Long Sword, Chen Shouyi felt an itch in his hands. He glanced at Shell Girl, fast asleep on the bed, then carefully began testing the sword.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but as his will washed over the sword again and again, it became easier to wield. The awkwardness he'd felt at first gradually faded, until the sword seemed like an extension of his body, perfectly in sync with him.
A few minutes later, he stopped.
I'll use this sword from now on! he thought.
As for the black sword, he'd give it to his younger sister once she grew stronger.
That black sword wasn't light either. It weighed at least ten kilograms, which was a bit heavy even for a martial artist.
He went to the bathroom, took an unused towel, and wiped the nonexistent dust from the blade. Then, with great care, he slid it into its scabbard.
At dawn, Tang Shaoquan and two martial artists climbed down from an army transport truck. Along with the soldiers, they dragged their exhausted bodies into the logistics base.
They'd taken turns fighting through the night. Most of the time, they'd simply defended their positions against the barbarians' attacks, and at most, they'd fired arrows. Close-quarters combat had been rare. Even so, after several days of this, the young Great Martial Artist was struggling to keep up. He'd lost enough weight for his whole frame to look thinner.
"Brother Quan, that shot earlier was so cool! You're amazing. How did you know the barbarian was hiding behind the wall?" asked a rather pretty female martial artist, her face full of admiration.
"Experience, observation, and instinct. It's hard to explain. Once you've seen enough fighting, you'll understand." Tang Shaoquan smiled and answered calmly. He rather enjoyed playing