Why did the referee call out his own name? Shouldn't he be playing the Black First Mate right now?
While thinking this, Xia Lun politely took the short sword from the attendant's hand, then incidentally glanced at the back of his hand—it was not black, this was indeed his own hand.
Although Xia Lun was not a so-called war hero, the audience at the scene seemed not to care about his past resume. Following the referee's introduction, a thunderous wave of cheers suddenly erupted by Xia Lun's ear.
"Sir, it's your turn." The attendant reminded him.
Xia Lun nodded, took the safety cap from the other person's hand, and then slowly walked onto the arena.
"Clack."
His boots landed on the arena, and the floor was quite slippery.
The giant opposite him sneered, then flicked his hand, tossing the black-satin starlight cloak outside the arena; extending his left foot forward and his right hand outward, he struck a standard long point-stance.
"Dawdling so much, I see you lack basic courage." His opening line was a taunt.
Xia Lun lowered his head, slowly inserting the safety cap into the tip of his sword, then touched his face with the back of the blade to salute the opponent with a sword salute.
"Flashy nonsense." The opponent refused to appreciate it and continued to provoke him, "Start quickly, end quickly. A glorious occasion like this is no place for a weakling like you."
Accompanied by this gunpowder-laced remark, the audience below the stage once again burst into a jubilant cheer, as if they greatly approved of the opponent's remarks.
Although the opponent launched a provocation, Xia Lun acted as if he hadn't heard it. He lowered his blade slightly, his black eyes gazing calmly at the opponent.
Over the past few days, in order to obtain the "Nonhuman Toughness" specialty, Xia Lun had been continuously entering dreams. Although in the later stages of the dream he had reversed his relationship with the guards, he was suffering all the same after all.
Therefore, he had long accumulated a bellyful of dissatisfaction and anger in the dream, and at this moment he desperately wanted to vent this kind of anger.
His heartbeat accelerated. Accompanied by the overwhelming cheers, a certain blood-stained desire to fight was slowly rising. Deep in his heart, he yearned for the subtle sense of lag when a blade cut through flesh.
Thump, thump... Thump, thump...
"Our current odds for winning are 5:1. It seems everyone has no confidence in contestant Xia Lun." The referee fanned the flames. "But a fencing match is, after all, a place that looks at hard strength."
"Beat him to death!"
"Surrender quickly, coward!" The bloodthirsty audience shouted loudly, but the vast majority of them were not optimistic about Xia Lun.
"Your apprentice doesn't seem very good, Brigadier General." On the viewing platform, the plump Bird smiled and shook his head.
The brigadier general's expression remained cold and indifferent. He slightly turned his pale blue, nearly transparent pupils and then said, "You are even less patient than your daughter. The dice hasn't even been cast yet."
"Experienced commanders can tell the outcome of a war just from the formation of the army." Bird said with a smile, but the core of his tone was deliberately placed on the words "experienced", "The outcome is already doomed."
--At this moment, the atmosphere below the viewing platform had brewed to the extreme. The referee violently swung the vertical rod in his hand: "Start!"
Although the burly man opposite Xia Lun appeared extremely disdainful, in reality, he was extremely cautious.
He didn't rush at Xia Lun right off the bat, but instead very cautiously pointed his sword at Xia Lun's throat, maintaining a threatening posture while slowly moving closer to Xia Lun's left hand.
The burly man's strategy was quite common. He wanted to seize the flank to gain an angular advantage over the centerline. This was a fairly conservative strategy.
However, before he had taken two steps, a sharp piercing sound accompanied by a cold gust of wind rushed straight at his face!
The seemingly amiable and steady Xia Lun made a move that was aggressive to the extreme. While both sides were still at a safe distance, he suddenly kicked off the ground and lunged forward, executing a step-lunging direct thrust at the opponent's eyeballs!
"Buzz--bang!"
The buzzing sound of the blade flashed and vanished, followed immediately by a dazzling spark. The burly man only felt as if he had been rammed head-on by a warhorse, staggering backward involuntarily.
Through the scattering sparks, he caught a glimpse of Xia Lun already closing in like a frenzied ghostly shadow!
Just as he steadied his footing, the next moment, another diagonal slash carrying a muffled piercing sound chopped toward his neck and shoulder from the upper right. He concentrated, slightly lifting his wrist to cross-block the sword instantly.
He blocked it!
A flash of joy crossed his heart, and he immediately wanted to use his strength advantage to counterattack. However, the next moment, the impact transmitted from the handguard suddenly dissipated...
What is going on?!
Before he could recover his wits, abruptly, a wave of pressure suddenly came from the blade again—at some unknown point, the opponent's sharp edge had already shifted to the underside of his own blade.
The next moment, he only felt a sour pain in his wrist, and immediately his whole body was thrown off balance by the sudden lifting strike, leaving his centerline wide open!
The burly man was taken aback and hurriedly brought his sword back to block, but by then he realized that the opponent's blade had somehow shifted again, pressing down on top of him and tightly locking his force-exerting route as well as his sword path!
The cold gleam of the blade flashed and vanished.
"Clack, snap!"
The next moment, Xia Lun slapped the opponent right in the face with his sword. Accompanied by a teeth-aching sound of bone cracking, the burly man clutched his nose and collapsed to the ground in pain.
At this moment, the burly man's nose was already broken, and a reddish sword imprint had appeared on his face, looking exceptionally bizarre.
The crowd suddenly burst into roaring laughter, and the sounds of whistling, mocking, and cheering went on without end.
"Xia Lun, scores three points!" The referee announced.
On the viewing platform, Geliide, holding a green apple, curiously leaned her upper body out. She blinked and asked curiously, "What just happened? How did the winner suddenly get decided?"
"After blade contact, by sensing the transmission of the blade's force, you control the opponent's actions, then rely on the brute force of a lifting strike to break the centerline, and finally transition to a sword slash." The plump Bird opened his smiling eyes and said in a serious tone, "This is a skilled swordsman."
"How is it possible to control the opponent's actions?" Geliide turned around and looked at her father.
Bird raised the Cenwood Cane as if he were holding a sword: "The sword is an extension of the body. If you can feel the power of the blade, you can feel the opponent's actions. Knowing what the opponent is going to do, you can control the enemy's actions."
"Well said." The brigadier general glanced at Bird, then a hint of a smile actually crept into his tone, "In certain exotic fencing schools, this is called "Listening Force". It's a very practical close-quarters sword-crossing technique."
"Then why can't Horn similarly "listen to force"? Logically speaking, after sword contact, isn't the perception of force two-way?" Geliide continued to ask.
"He lost the initiative, so naturally he's bound to fail." Bird shook his head and said no more, "Keep watching, there are still 5 points left."
PS: The above fencing technique of listening to force is not something I wrote blindly; this move genuinely exists in the Meyer Fencing School.
If you wish to read the reference materials, you can post a paragraph comment here. If it exceeds 100 within today, I will post them in the review section.
Before you continue