Flame Cross

"It takes three to four years for a talented warrior to promote to a Flame Warrior, while those with poor talent require five to ten. In the church records, there are absolute monsters who promoted in less than a year; we can only dream of how ferocious such people must be."

"After becoming a Flame Warrior, if the breathing technique advances again, it can temper our internal organs and bones, eventually allowing us to promote to a Flame Fighter."

"Beyond the Flame Fighter, I don't know," Marshall said, spreading his hands and shaking his head with a smile.

The thin warrior pointed to the parchment in Kraun's hand and said, "What is recorded above are the movements of the breathing technique. Without sensing that flow of life, practicing these movements is of little use. I still suggest you warm up and try to feel that flow of life during combat."

Kraun opened the parchment upon hearing this and found that, just as the other had said, it contained drawings of little people in various postures, rendered in bright red pigment.

These figures were performing different actions, giving off a rather strange feeling.

He nodded, "Shall we continue practicing swordsmanship then?"

He was still mindful of his Basic Swordsmanship and Cross Sword technique, which were on the verge of leveling up; he couldn't ask for a better opportunity to spar.

"Of course, but your opponent is Savas. He insists that he couldn't let loose yesterday and didn't dare to fight you with full strength; losing while feeling restricted was too embarrassing for him."

"That's fine," Kraun smiled generously. It didn't matter who his opponent was, as long as they could accompany his progress.

These two warriors didn't charge for sparring, so he could use them without worry.

"Hey, Red Beard, come here! I've created an opportunity for you. The new warrior is willing to spar with you. I'll bet two Spirit Coins that he can hold out for fifteen minutes. How about it?"

Damn it! Kraun's face darkened. He felt like a fighting cock, being surrounded and bet upon.

"I'll take that bet!" Salma shouted in a booming voice. "He won't last fifteen minutes!"

"You might bite your tongue if you talk too big," Marshall quipped, then turned to the other side of the combatants. "Kraun, do you want to join in and bet on yourself to win?"

"Looking at him, does he seem like someone who has Spirit Coins?" Red Beard shook his head dismissively and tossed two coins with a white jade luster to the thin warrior.

"Gold Shields work too. One Spirit Coin is worth about 110 Gold Shields. Want to take a crack at it? You have to have confidence in yourself. Red Beard only promoted to a Crusader Order warrior two years ago; he's not much more seasoned than you."

"Then I'll join in to show some support. I bet I can last fifteen minutes—one Spirit Coin."

"Alright! Did you bring the money?"

"Can I put it on credit? Who carries a hundred Gold Shields around for no reason?"

"That's not impossible," Marshall said, tilting his head. "If you bet on yourself to win, it can't be calculated by the fifteen-minute mark. You'll have to last twenty minutes to win."

He wasn't worried about the other party not having the money; if a transcendent wanted to make money, as long as they were willing to set aside their pride, earning a hundred Gold Shields a month wasn't a problem.

"The match begins," Marshall announced in a strange tone, and the battle between the two commenced.

Kraun lunged forward to attack. After so many training sessions, he had discovered that if he wanted to maximize his swordsmanship training and increase his proficiency, offense was the best choice.

Red Beard showed no signs of contempt on his face and responded steadily. Yesterday, he had suffered from failing to break through the defense despite a long assault; today, he decided to play it safe, first exhausting his opponent's stamina before taking him down in a clean fashion.

The two traded blows, and the scene was lively.

Ten minutes passed, and Kraun's stamina showed no signs of waning. His attacks remained swift and fierce, his swordsmanship fluid and well-rounded, pressing forward step by step.

Savas felt anxious. His original plan was to adopt a defensive stance and counterattack once the opponent's stamina dropped, but instead, he was being suppressed from start to finish—and it was a genuine, total suppression.

Compared to yesterday, his opponent's strength and speed had increased significantly, and he even felt that the opponent's swordsmanship had improved quite a bit.

The enemy's sword struck from all sorts of tricky angles, and he was truly struggling to cope.

He couldn't let this continue. If he didn't regain the initiative, it wouldn't just be a matter of losing two Spirit Coins; he would lose face entirely.

Marshall, that big mouth, would definitely spread the word that I couldn't subdue a newcomer.

Thinking of this, Red Beard gritted his teeth and swung his sword upward, parrying his opponent's strike. The hand gripping his sword began to glow with red flames.

This radiance spread to his weapon, bathing the surroundings in a red light, like blood under a setting sun.

"Red Beard, that's not honorable," Marshall said, exasperated. He hadn't expected the other party to actually use the Flame Cross Sword Technique.

This sword technique was meant to be used in conjunction with the Flame Breath Breathing Technique; it could stimulate the human body and greatly enhance a Crusader Order warrior's strength.

The sword technique had the drawback of being extremely taxing and unsustainable, meant only for life-or-death struggles or breaking through defenses.

He had calculated everything, but he hadn't expected this guy to abandon sportsmanship and use such a powerful move against a newcomer who had just finished his promotion. He should have made the rules clear.

Marshall suppressed his anxiety, ready to support the new warrior at any moment.

With this level of attack, Savas might not be able to hold back.

Upon sensing a burst of violent energy, Kraun immediately stepped back, preparing to avoid the brunt of his opponent's edge.

The other party blocked his downward slash with his sword, the remaining force undiminished, numbing his entire arm.

He realized the opponent had unleashed his ultimate move.

Lacking the ability to go head-to-head right now, he wisely chose to fight on the move.

But the opponent, in his desperate state, wouldn't let him escape so easily. The red radiance detached from Savas's sword, slashing out a curtain of light.

Kraun lowered his waist and turned to the side, but the light curtain grazed his right arm, tearing away a large chunk of flesh.

Stung by the pain, he felt a surge of ferocity.

Instead of retreating, he charged forward.

He utilized his time-stop ability, timing it precisely for the moments when his opponent transitioned between attacks.

Savas felt incredibly awkward. His attacks clearly should have reached their mark, yet the enemy always seized the initiative, suppressing his offensive rhythm before he could land a blow.

A strange scene unfolded: a novice warrior was suppressing a veteran who wielded the Flame Cross swordsmanship.

Marshall looked at the pocket watch in his hand; fifteen minutes had already passed.

"Time's up, Kraun wins!"

He shouted, but neither combatant paid him any heed.

Kraun's attacks were like a continuous river, surging and endless, while Red Beard was like a reef in the middle of the current, submerged by the waves.

He had an intuition that a strange power was sprouting within his body, and combat was the best way to vent that energy.

His speed had not increased, nor had his strength grown, but the rhythm of his offense was becoming better and better.

He discovered a unique method: after blocking multiple times in succession, that overwhelming force was completely exhausted.

A moment later, even without the power of the Time Hourglass, he was able to suppress Red Beard.

Kraun felt a faint, warm current coursing through his entire body. As this warmth flowed to the soles of his feet, a sudden flash of inspiration struck him. He lunged forward, his sword moving in sync with his body, and struck the opponent's rapier. Utilizing the force of the recoil, he easily brought his sword tip to rest against Savas's Adam's apple.

"This time, I've won again."