At the center of the battlefield, the duel between "spear" and spear continued.
To be frank, Sovell's spearmanship was neither particularly polished nor exquisite. Others might call the way he wielded his weapon spearmanship, but Sovell himself preferred to call it "efficient techniques for dealing with enemies."
By comparison, his swordsmanship was far more outstanding.
But against Achilles, a Greek hero who likewise hailed from the age of gods and was even older than he was, Sovell was not arrogant enough to turn his Holy Spear into a "Holy Sword" and pit his weakness against his opponent's strength.
Likewise, Achilles was under considerable pressure.
He had learned his spearmanship from the Greek sage Chiron, and it formed a complete system of combat.
His stance, the timing of his strikes, and even certain habits were all optimal solutions developed from the same underlying combat logic.
Compared with Sovell, who had taken up the spear halfway through his journey, Achilles was leagues ahead in technique.
Yet precisely because of that formal training, his spearmanship inevitably bore traces of set patterns.
Chiron had taught Achilles methods, while Merlin had "taught" Sovell awareness-the awareness of how to face an enemy, honed through countless rounds of forced practice.
When an enemy attacks me with a weapon, how many ways can I respond?
What is the logic behind each response?
Which is the best response? Which is the worst?
If I choose one of them-even the worst-what can I gain? What will I lose?
Rather than confining himself to a single line of thought, he racked his brains to make the weapon in his hands shine in ever more varied ways.
The ability to connect, blend, and integrate different approaches to combat was Sovell's true strength.
Tormented by his opponent's ever-changing spear-tip trajectories until his composure