34. Time Flies

A gust of hot air blew by, and Shen felt a tingling sensation.

He squinted, remaining absolutely silent as he lay prone on the ground. Dust billowed, and heavy cables, as thick as pythons, stretched out into the distance across the mine floor.

After a while, Shen Wei raised his head and peered out from the pile of rocks where he was hiding. He didn't see anyone. Another breeze blew by, still carrying the heat, but it was different. This time, it brought a slight sound.

Monotonous and dull, it sounds boring.

Shen listened patiently for a while, then pushed aside the pile of rocks and crawled out.

His left knee was throbbing, an injury inflicted two hours earlier by the guards on patrol—the second squad was always ruthless, but Shen didn't think it was a problem.

He dragged his injured leg, bent over, and began to limp forward. The darkness of the cave did not affect his vision; the muscles in his right hand bulged, and an unsharpened short sword was pressed against his wrist.

The cold touch lessened the terrible feeling of sweat and dust mixing together, bringing Shen some comfort. He walked for seven minutes and thirty-two seconds before a bleeding person stopped him from continuing.

The man was hung up, and the person who did this to him used a specially made rope to pierce his wrists and ankles. His neck was slashed open; he wouldn't die immediately, but he was still bleeding profusely.

The sound originates from this.

Shen looked up and recognized him.

"You stupid fool," Shen said sternly. "Where are they?"

Kassati Nuang gave a weak, cold laugh, "None of your business, Shen. Run! That bastard Sevatar is looking for you everywhere, and he's showing no mercy."

"Training shouldn't be taken lightly." Shen maintained his seriousness and rationality. "Let him look for it if he wants; let him do as he pleases."

"Ha." The man hanging there laughed even harder. "I bet he's almost found you by now, Shen. What does the sound of my blood dripping on the ground sound like?"

"Just as stupid as you are."

"But I've started to stop the bleeding now," Casati Nuon said. "And we've started talking— Jago Sevatarion couldn't possibly miss such a detail."

"I know."

"Then I must remind you first. The weapon he chose to bring this time is a tiger cudgel, giving you an advantage in attack range. Try to make him suffer a bit, Shen. This bastard has been arrogant for too long."

"I'll give it a try," Shen said calmly, though he sounded hopeless.

He didn't tell Kasati Nuang about his knee. He simply turned around quickly, the short sword leaving his wrist in an instant and being held in his palm.

Kasati Nuang looked up at Shen's back and burst into laughter.

The laughter was cruel, echoing coldly through the cave.

A hot wind blew, and sweat dripped down. Shen cautiously gripped his short sword.

Jago Sevatarion, who appeared out of nowhere, slowly grinned and smiled. Blood still clung to his cheeks, but the spiked brass knuckles in his hand still gleamed.

"Hey there, brother," Jago Sevatarion greeted casually. "Long time no see, missed me?"

"Where's your squad?" Shen was unfazed by his feigned good-natured mockery and instead asked about something else with a serious expression.

"Oh, they went after the others." Sevatar shrugged. "So, now it's just the two of us. You know what that means?"

"I have no interest in fighting you," Shen said. "Besides, you abandoned your team for your own selfish desires."

"Yes, yes, here we go again!" Sevatar shouted. "Typical Shen style! Judgment, evaluation, calm and rational—no wonder they say you should join Ultramarines, Shen, where are you like us?"

"Your words are useless against me." Shen frowned, and the short sword began to slowly dance in the air.

Kassady Nu'ang was still chuckling in a low voice, adding an eerie absurdity to this unusual duel. Sevatar laughed, clenched his fists, and jumped lightly on the ground.

"Oh, Shen, forever rational, forever calm," Sevatar exclaimed, his feet moving without slowing down at all.

He lunged fiercely at Shen, the Veil the fight with a blocked jab. Shen remained completely unmoved by his incredibly fast punch.

He deflected Sevatar's fist with the blade of his short sword, then twisted his wrist, making the blade spin once in the air.

The accumulated power was unleashed through his skill. The short sword flew through the air, whistling. Sevatar immediately turned and swung his elbow, blocking the attack with his left elbow. The price was a clear cracking sound.

The captain of the first squad smiled cruelly. He stretched out his right hand and grabbed Shen Wojian's wrist with terrifying speed, then kicked him hard in the left knee with his right leg.

The sound of bones breaking rang out, and Kassati Nuang whistled in surprise. Sevatar gave him a cold glance, then with a forceful pull of his right hand, he slammed Shen towards the ground.

His other leg had been waiting for a long time, and as soon as Shen landed, he would press down on his neck without hesitation.

Victory is within reach.

However, Shen, the captain of the seventh squad, was never one to give up easily.

Sevatar's smile froze on his face with an unmistakable cracking sound. The short sword fell to the ground, and Shen staggered backward—he had just used Sevatar's strength to break his right wrist, thus escaping Sevatar's grasp.

A flicker of barely concealed anger crossed Sevatar's face. He stepped on Shen's sword with his boot, trampling it, and said coldly, "Why won't you just admit defeat?"

"Winning or losing isn't important to me." Shen calmly gripped his right wrist, assessing his injury.

His right hand was basically useless, but he could still use the bones in his wrist to attack Sevatar in place of his fist, and that was enough. He stood still, stretched his shoulders and neck, and assumed a fighting stance again.

But this time, Sevatar didn't rush over immediately.

"Two years have passed, you idiot!" the first squad leader growled. "And you haven't changed a single thing!"

Shen smiled slowly.

"Our mission objective is to retrieve that piece of Adamantium ore. Squads 5, 6, and 7 will be the attackers. Squads 1, 2, and 3 will be the defenders. Squad 4 will be the hidden third party—the fewest in number, but the best equipped."

Sevatar interrupted him mercilessly, "I'm not in the mood to hear you repeat the mission briefing again—tell me, what's wrong with you, Shen?"

"My team is splitting up to search for Adamantium," Shen said unmoved. "Winning or losing isn't important. Whether I can personally defeat you, or whether I'll spend another two weeks in the infirmary, doesn't matter."

"Without your guidance, the First Squad can't possibly outshine my squad in stealth. They'll just scatter like headless flies, wasting their time in the mine. You can beat me, but you'll still lose, Sevatar. You'll lose every official training session because you're always trying to beat me, but I only want to win this war."

Shen lowered his head, took a deep breath, stood crookedly in place, and raised his shoulders.

"Now, come on," he said solemnly. "Loser."

Sevatar bared his teeth.

Kasati Nuang burst into uncontrollable laughter.

--

"It's always like this."

Xianni shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment. "Why does that idiot Sevatar always have to pick on Shen? He only needs to protect his mission target."

Richter Nair crossed his arms and spoke noncommittally, "Haven't you heard about the rivalry between Shen and Sevatar? Back when Shen was still a recruit who had never even had a surgery, he already gave Sevatar a taste of his own medicine."

A smile appeared on the face of the Eighth Company's swordsmanship master, "Back then, our Jago Sevatarion had already basically completed his transformation, only lacking the implantation of the Black Carapace after he reached full physiological maturity. That proud kid could never accept such a disparity."

"What gives him the right to be so arrogant?" Xianni frowned. "He fails seven out of ten training missions, and his players still willingly follow his nonsense."

"Isn't that what hunting squads are like? They're a bunch of beasts that have only recently grown fangs and claws, Xianni, take it easy. They haven't even had official names yet."

Xianni nodded silently, lowered his head, and continued to stare at the holographic projection.

In the scene, Sevatar and Shen fought for a while, and in the end, Sevatar won as always, but at a heavy price.

One of his hands was twisted behind his back like a pretzel, and his left foot was fractured starting from the ankle, with the pale bone fragments piercing through the flesh and exposed to the air.

Shen didn't hold back, but so did he.

Shen, lying on the ground, was in an even worse state. His jaw was almost smashed, and his neck was pierced by Sevatar's brass knuckles. Not to mention his left knee and right wrist.

Sevatar carried out what Xianni had taught him very well—he took the concept of bullying the weak to its extreme. If Shen hadn't been an Astartes, he would have been completely crippled because of it.

The more Xianni looked, the more somber his expression became. The Night Lords had no objection to the need for the training to be as realistic as possible; Sevatar's behavior was not problematic, nor was Shen's. The only difference between the two was that their actions differed in one crucial way.

Sevatar did this out of spite, to lessen the pain of his defeat. Shen, on the other hand, only wanted his team to win.

After a long silence, Xianni turned his head and looked at the third giant in the room.

"I think Jago Sevatarion needs to have his 'graduation' ceremony redone, instructor. Otherwise, how can anyone be at ease with him like this?" Xianni said, unable to hide his indignation.

Karyl nodded thoughtfully.

"I don't think we need to be too harsh. It's a good thing that young people have some energy." He smiled slightly. "Let them get treatment first, then come to my office."

One more chapter to come