Lancelot

"Knight of the Lake, you are the challenger."

Leon looked down from his height, while the Knight of the Lake stood ready.

The referee outside the ring swung a hand down, and the battle between the two officially began.

Yet, more than ten seconds passed, and neither made a move. They neither attacked nor probed, remaining in their stances exactly where they stood.

"What, will you not attack?"

Leon beckoned to the Knight of the Lake with his fingers in provocation. In Leon's eyes, the knight's stance was flawless; whether defending or dodging, he could respond with ease. A rash attack would only be a thankless effort.

However, his provocation had no effect, only making the knight's expression more solemn. A dense layer of fine sweat beaded on his smooth, fair forehead.

Looking at the towering opponent before him, the knight felt that the opposing stance was riddled with openings. He could spot over a dozen ways to break it at a single glance, yet his infinite combat experience warned him: this man was dangerous!

The intensity of the killing intent and the soaring battle aura radiating from his opponent made his skin crawl. Even a mere mental simulation of the fight showed him being cut in half, leading to his defeat.

The two stood in focused confrontation, neither daring to make a reckless move.

The audience below did not have such patience. Having plummeted from the previous intense atmosphere into this stifling silence, watching the two on stage remain motionless for so long, they grew impatient and began to urge them on.

"Knight of the Lake, use your exquisite martial arts to finish him off!"

"Why aren't you fighting yet? If you don't start, I'm going home to eat."

"Boring! I want to see blood flowing like a river!"

The people longed to see a fierce battle.

They hoped to see the two knights on the stage engage in a brutal slaughter, just as the knight had easily disposed of his previous opponents in a few moves, or to see the newcomer Leon teach that foreign knight a harsh lesson.

But no matter how the audience urged or jeered, to the two on stage, it was nothing more than a breeze brushing past their faces. They ignored it, not caring in the slightest.

At this moment, they had eyes only for each other.

"If you won't come, then I shall attack."

As the words fell, Leon exerted force through his feet, cracking the ring. His figure instantly appeared before the Knight of the Lake, his iron sword thrusting forward with immense power.

The Knight of the Lake reacted swiftly. The experience and wisdom gained from countless battles allowed him to make the most correct counter-move at the very first moment.

The knight stepped to the side, missing the sword by a hair's breadth. The gale brought by the tip of the blade brushed his face, ruffling his hair.

He swung his own sword in return, aiming for his opponent's chest.

Leon had anticipated this and turned his blade to parry. The crisp sound of steel clashing rang out. He tried to attack again, only to be easily dodged by the Knight of the Lake, who once more attempted a counter-strike.

The two traded blows for several rounds, the crisp sound of metal clashing ringing incessantly. A keen observer could see that the knight's counter-attacks were light and unrestrained, while Leon was struggling to keep up.

The Knight of the Lake found an opening to break away, breathing heavily, his eyes fixed intently on Leon.

Strange, too strange.

The moment he engaged Leon, he felt it: the opponent's martial arts were mediocre, and his combat experience was minimal—not even as good as the knights he had dispatched in seconds earlier.

Yet, his strength was immense. A touch meant death, a graze meant injury. Even with his own skill, he could not take the attacks head-on and could only dodge, using his own martial arts and experience to drag out the fight.

At the same time, the opponent gave him a sense of frustration, as if an adult were pretending to be a child while wielding a sword. Whether attacking or defending, it was as if he were wearing a layer of thick batter; he was so afraid of breaking the "garment" that he didn't dare to fully extend his limbs.

The knight had been raised by the Lady of the Lake since childhood; naturally, he could see that magic had been cast on his opponent to alter his appearance.

Looking at the two-meter-tall frame before him, he wondered how someone so large could feel so restricted... could the opponent be a giant?

Recalling the miraculous rumors he had heard about the king of this country, a thought flashed through the knight's mind.

Could it really be him!

This was truly...

A stroke of luck!

He was from France, and his purpose in coming to this country was to have a battle with the legendary Lion King.

At the thought of his opponent's identity, the knight's fighting spirit soared even higher.

"What a formidable technique!"

As the Knight of the Lake guessed Leon's identity, Leon also felt a heartfelt admiration for the knight's martial arts.

In terms of pure martial arts, no one Leon knew could compare to him.

Even he himself was far inferior, and he could not help but feel a desire to recruit the Knight of the Lake.

Leon looked at his abdomen, where his clothes had been sliced open by a sharp edge, revealing the skin beneath.

Ordinary attacks were useless against Leon. Even the strength of the Knight of the Lake had only left a white mark on his skin, which quickly vanished as his blood energy surged, returning to its original state.

Seeing this, Leon, who already favored the knight, became even more eager to possess him.

"Knight, what is your name?"

The Knight of the Lake's fighting spirit and aura spilled out uncontrollably: "Lancelot."

As expected.

Leon had seen it at first glance, and now that he had confirmation from the man himself, the possessiveness in his heart grew even stronger.

Lancelot, the strongest among the many Knights of the Round Table, who could contend even with Gawain at high noon through his exquisite martial arts, and whose love story with the queen of King Arthur was widely circulated.

"Lancelot, you are indeed not bad!"

A psychedelic sensation rose from Leon's body, distorting his figure like water mist.

Or rather, he was returning to his true appearance.

Not good, Leon's true form is about to be exposed.

Seeing this scene from beneath the arena, Morgan felt an immediate sense of foreboding. The magic she had cast upon Leon was extremely crude and could be broken by anyone with ease.

Now, having been struck by the Knight of the Lake, that layer of magic had been pierced through.

Leon also realized the situation and immediately decided to attack.

It didn't matter if his identity was exposed in front of everyone, but he could not appear incompetent! Even encountering an evenly matched opponent would lower the awe people held for him!

Time to get serious!

BOOM!

Leon exerted his strength, and the solid arena collapsed on one side from his stomp.

His illusory figure, suffused with the radiance of magic, appeared before Lancelot in an instant. The iron sword in his hand, full of notches and curled edges, broke through the sound barrier and slashed diagonally toward Lancelot's body.

Leon's speed was so fast that even Lancelot, with his full attention, could not see it clearly and could only rely on his rich experience to subconsciously raise a defense.

But the moment he blocked, Lancelot felt something was wrong. The opponent's strength was too great; he shouldn't have blocked, but the opponent's speed was too fast to dodge, leaving him no choice but to parry.

I am going to lose!

The moment he blocked, Lancelot already anticipated the outcome of this battle.

Yet, when he felt the immense force transmitted from the sword and used all his strength to resist, he was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, easily crushed.

BANG!

As if crushed by a mountain, Lancelot was instantly overwhelmed by this force. His entire body was smashed into the earth, creating a deep crater in the remaining half of the arena. Cracks spread outward, and the entire structure teetered on the verge of collapse.

Clack, clatter!

The iron sword shattered, emitting a crisp metallic sound as the fragments fell to the ground.

Looking at the broken sword in his hand, now reduced to nothing but a hilt, Leon was not surprised.

The material and forging of this sword were subpar to begin with. That it still had a hilt left after his brutal exertion was only because he had been careful to hold back; otherwise, even the hilt would not have remained.

Fortunately, if the sword hadn't shattered and the blade had truly struck Lancelot, he might have been killed outright. In that case, Leon would have nowhere to turn to cry.

Watching Lancelot, who was temporarily unable to move in the crater, Leon felt quite satisfied—both with Lancelot and with his own decisive performance.

In the end, he had won this battle!