The two men on the field were top-tier swordsmen. The instant their blades clashed, they fell into a fierce battle, trading blows back and forth without either gaining the upper hand.
Their attacks were incredibly fast. They struck at each other more than a dozen times a second, their swords sweeping into fan-shaped shadows that dazzled the eyes.
Harlan's sword flashed rapidly, its gleaming blade weaving into a net that spread toward Xilan.
Amid the bone-chilling sword light, Xilan faced him calmly. Every counterattack came from the perfect angle, piercing through the sword net Harlan had woven.
He not only defended against every attack but also launched counterattacks.
With exquisite sword techniques, Xilan gradually seized control of the rhythm. Using broad, balanced swordsmanship, he slowly dismantled Harlan's fierce offensive.
"Has the old man run out of new tricks? Still the same old routine?"
Suddenly, Harlan's swordsmanship shifted, and he broke free from the mire formed by Xilan's sword techniques.
"Throat!" the Champion Swordsman growled. The longsword in his hand suddenly shot forward, thrusting straight at Xilan's throat.
Xilan's expression turned solemn. He did not dare relax for even a moment. He raised his longsword and deflected the blade attacking his throat.
At that moment, Harlan's longsword moved like a venomous snake. Without pausing his momentum, the blade rapidly shifted position and stabbed toward Xilan's throat like a poisonous serpent.
Harlan always did what he said. If he said he would stab the throat, he would aim directly for it.
Xilan abruptly retreated, quickly leaving the attack's range. Yet he had not expected Harlan's blade to cling to him like a bone-devouring maggot, impossible to shake off.
"Left collarbone!"
Another warning rang out beside Xilan's ear. The situation left him no time to think.
If he defended his left ribs, Harlan would feint. If he did not, the sword's edge would reach him.
As an experienced grand swordsman, Xilan ignored Harlan's taunts. He noticed the instant the thrusting sword was withdrawn, when a gap appeared in the attack, and swept his sword upward to meet it!
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The swords of the two masters rang out crisply, clashing dozens of times in a short span.
Under the tremendous force of their blows, the fine-steel longswords' edges chipped and broke, becoming jagged like sawteeth.
It was a magnificent duel! Even Doom's eyesight and analytical ability could not stop him from clenching his fists and cheering for their contest.
The spectators in the training grounds flushed with excitement, but none dared cheer or shout, afraid of disturbing the two men.
As their duel continued, the training grounds fell utterly silent. Everyone waited for that fatal strike—the blow that would decide victory and defeat.
"Heart!" Harlan's warning rang out again. Both sides knew it was time to determine the victor.
The longsword darted out like a spirit serpent flicking its tongue, sinister and swift, baring its fangs at Xilan.
A cold smile curled at the corner of Xilan's mouth. He withdrew his sword and raised it to defend, trapping Harlan's blade in the angle between the guard and the edge. Then he twisted with all his strength.
"Bang!"
The already sawtoothed blade could bear no more. It split down the middle, and the longsword in Harlan's hand snapped one-third of the way from the tip!
In that instant, all the warrior apprentices rose to their feet, ready to celebrate Xilan's victory.
In a battle between masters, even the slightest difference in attack range brought an astonishing advantage.
The longer blade held the advantage. At this moment, Xilan only needed to retreat and widen the distance, and Harlan would have no chance of winning.
That was what the spectators thought. Xilan thought the same. He swiftly retreated to widen the distance, making full use of his advantage in attack range.
Harlan let out an evil laugh. Instead of closing the distance, he threw a punch straight at the broken blade.
"You've lost!"
The two men spoke at the same time, each declaring the other's defeat.
The people in the stands froze. No one knew who had achieved the final victory or whom they should cheer for.
Xilan's sword rested against Harlan's shoulder. With a single sweep, he could take Harlan's head.
Meanwhile, the broken blade was clutched between Harlan's knuckles, pointing straight at Xilan's brow.
"If this were a battlefield, this fragment would have pierced your head. You would never have had the chance to kill me."
"Unfortunately, this isn't a battlefield. Victory and defeat here aren't decided by life or death, but by the rules."
Xilan withdrew his longsword with a grave expression. "The battlefield has the laws of the battlefield, and a contest has the rules of a contest."
"If everything can be treated as one and the same, then what is the point of having rules?"
"Spare me the grand principles!" Harlan waved dismissively, looking completely unconcerned. "I only care about victory or defeat on the battlefield. I don't care about rules."
"Haran Ogilvy!" Xilan's heavy voice dropped low. "You had many ways to defeat this old man. You even saw through my tactics, yet you still attacked with your so-called instinct, without the slightest strategic thinking."
"It was precisely that narrow-minded focus on what was in front of you that kept your swordsmanship, despite being that of a master swordsman, from attaining true excellence."
"Stop, don't say anything else!" Harlan hurriedly waved his hands and put on a pleading expression. "I concede! I concede!"
"I'm not the protagonist today. We've already taken up far too much of Doom's time, so stop lecturing me."
In the end, Xilan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed the words.
"Resume training!" he roared angrily, dispersing the warrior apprentices who had gathered to watch. What came next was not something they could take part in.
Xilan smiled gently, drew Doom in front of him, and said, "Go to the training grounds. Haran Ogilvy will teach you the basics. Your mother and I have something to discuss."
"Okay!"
Doom nodded and left. When adults needed to discuss something, he had to give them space.
"Me?" Harlan pointed at himself and stared at Xilan in confusion, his eyes filled with bewilderment.
Seeing Xilan's solemn expression, he asked no more questions and silently followed Doom away.
"Queen Daisy." After watching Harlan and Doom walk away, Xilan turned to Daisy, hoping the Queen could provide an answer. "The royal family's educational process hasn't changed in thousands of years. Aren't you going to give this old man an explanation?"
There were no trivial matters in the royal family. Every move made by the Norwick royal family involved countless consequences. It was not something that could simply be changed at will.
The order in which knowledge was learned had a tremendous effect on a person's thinking, and it could lead to different decisions about the same matter.
A prince should first enter the Command Branch and establish a comprehensive understanding of the larger picture. He needed to know what consequences his decisions would cause and how many people's fates they would affect.
Warrior training was necessary for a prince, but it was not as important as the former.
If a warrior charging into battle made the wrong decision, he might lose his life. At worst, he might doom an entire squad.
If a commander made a mistake, the entire battle would be lost.
A commander needed rationality and had to suppress his desire for victory in order to achieve it.
A warrior needed fury to ensure he killed the opponent before him.
The difference between the two was vast. The kind of education one received first determined the kind of thinking one would use.
Xilan did not understand why Daisy had sent Doom here to begin with warrior training.
King Norwick had explicitly stated that he regarded Doom as his own child and hoped Doom would inherit the throne. Xilan was one of the witnesses.
Could this be some kind of court politics?
Xilan could not help but grow suspicious. He was not a pure warrior like Haran Ogilvy. Having served two kings named Norwick, his instincts were extremely sharp.
"It isn't what you think." Under the Court Swordsman's suspicious gaze, Queen Daisy hurriedly explained, "Norwick told me to do this."
"King Norwick?" Xilan's gaze instantly grew solemn. "Then do I have the right to know?"
Since this involved King Norwick's arrangements, Xilan maintained a serious attitude and cautiously asked whether he was entitled to know.
"He instructed me that, aside from me, you are the only other person with the authority to know."
Daisy pulled Xilan into the shadows. After making sure there was no one nearby, she lowered her voice and said carefully, "He saw the future. He believes Doom must take up a weapon first and possess the strength to protect himself!"
At those words, Xilan's pupils suddenly contracted. His heart began pounding, and cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.
Doom needed to protect himself?
That meant King Norwick could no longer be certain that his own abilities, or those of the Night Watchers, would be enough to protect Doom.
Xilan's mouth went dry. He could not understand what kind of enemy had made King Norwick feel such overwhelming pressure.
"Then we have to hurry!"
Under Harlan's instruction, Doom began learning basic swordsmanship. He moved with surprising form, leaving Harlan amazed by his learning ability.
"Doom! From now on, you'll follow my arrangements."
Xilan's voice suddenly rang out. His expression was solemn. "We have to hurry. Make full use of your abilities and learn the Way of the Warrior properly!"
Doom's excellent insight allowed him to sense the solemnity in Xilan's eyes, as well as the urgency he was struggling to suppress.
His little face grew serious, and he nodded heavily. "I can't wait any longer!"
Harlan also sensed the heaviness in the air. His instincts told him that the work ahead would not be easy.
And so, Doom embarked on his path as a warrior.
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