Waiting always felt interminable, especially for outsiders watching experts. Yet before the "rhythm" displayed by the two Grandmasters, time seemed to pass particularly quickly. Before the audience could fully savor that marvelous sensation, two hours had already gone by.
On the weapon-forging tables before Chen Rui and Saman lay a sword each. Had they not witnessed it with their own eyes, they might have thought the two swords had been made by the same person, for their length, shape, and even the impression they gave were almost identical. Though they were merely Excellent-grade, they possessed the air of great skill concealed beneath seeming simplicity, like princes wandering the mortal world—though clad in coarse cloth, they still carried an extraordinary, peerless bearing in their bones.
The reason the two longswords felt so alike was entirely because the judgments and choices of the two Grandmasters had been astonishingly similar. Given the two-hour limit, these specifications should have been the optimal choice for meeting the conditions of the contest.
But just as only one of them would ultimately survive, only one of these two swords could remain.
Next came the result of this round.
The two swords slowly rose into the air on their own, tugging at the hearts of countless spectators. Then they turned into two streaks of light and clashed together like lightning. Sparks flew everywhere, and the audience's hearts trembled without cease.
After more than ten exchanges, a clear clang finally rang out. One sword snapped into two and fell into the dust, while the other, though riddled with chips, endured to the very end.
That sword slowly flew before Chen Rui. The spectators erupted in cheers. The three-discipline genius master... no, Grandmaster Arthur had won!
Compared to that unfathomable one-eyed Grandmaster, this genius Grandmaster who had once been famous