The Student Held Back

"Everyone, line up and rest!"

"Clear!"

The entire support team came out of the Octagon and found a place to rest.

Compared to the current Night Lords, the members of this squad had it much easier; they only broke a sweat.

At the far end of the plaza, the Night Haunter and his high-ranking officials watched the scene unfold.

"It's absolutely appalling."

This was Sevatar's only assessment of the Night Lords' fighting prowess.

Sevatar originally thought it was normal for there to be a gap between the two Legions, but he never expected the gap to be so large.

"The Eighth Legion of that world is fundamentally different from the Eighth Legion of this world. Don't be too harsh on them, Sevatar."

Even the Night Haunter didn't know which type of technology Trazyn used when he gave Nostramo the Necrontyr technology.

"Father, since your Resurrection you have not only become rational, but also merciful," Sevatar said.

The Night Haunter simply shook his head, looking intently at Sevatar.

"I told you before, Jago, as the Legion of Dalian in the Company Commander, you can't go off to spar."

"Father, is this to save face for the Legion?"

"Yes and no."

Night Haunter to preserve is not only the Legion's face, but also Sevatar's confidence.

"Father, let me go."

The Night Haunter looked up at the sound and saw it was Sahar, the Master of the Claws.

"As I just said, senior commanders of the Legion cannot go; that's an order."

"But Father, you must try to save face for the Legion, won't you?"

"Sevatar Company Commander can't really show up, but I'm a cripple after all. Even if I lose, it's understandable, isn't it?"

The Night Haunter looked at Sahar, then at the other Company Commanders. He knew that if they weren't allowed to participate in this competition, it would become a thorn in their side.

In truth, the Night Haunter did not wish for them to be compared to those who were subject to the Midnight Reapers.

Compared to those who participate in the Midnight Reapers, they lose not only in terms of strength, but also in terms of character.

Compared to those who Midnight Reapers, the people of the Night Lords have far more dark histories.

But now it's clear I can't stop it.

"Alright, Sahar, that's enough."

"Yes, Father!"

After receiving the Night Haunter's approval, Sahar arrived at the support team's rest area.

"Hello, Your Excellency Slazov."

Who are you?

"Night Lords, Master of the Claws, Zo Sahar."

Upon hearing the name, Slazov hesitated for a moment, muttering it to himself.

"Sahar? Hmm, I should recognize that name."

"Zo Sahar, a renowned international student at Nostramo Public University of Judiciary."

Nova's reminder came at just the right time, reminding Slazov of such a person.

"Oh, right, Nova is absolutely right. I remember now, Sahar is indeed the most famous international student."

International student?

"Company Commander Slazov, that's not how you use the term 'international student'," Laxus reminded him, sitting beside him.

"My words may not express my meaning clearly, but I hope you understand."

Slazov looked at Sahar, but not at his whole body; he looked at his replaced arm.

What happened to your arm?

"These are necessary losses in war, Your Excellency. Also, what do you mean by saying I repeated a grade?"

Sahar was actually quite interested in what kind of experiences his counterpart had in the other world.

"Oh, you mean the thing about repeating a year? Actually, it's not a big deal. He could have graduated perfectly well with his abilities, but he wanted to take it a step further."

Simply put, due to our living conditions, we Nostramo-descended are always in the Reserves once we join the Legion.

"Other non- Nostramo-descended who want to become Reserve must start as low-ranking Enforcer."

"Sahar himself is very capable, so he wants to try to become Reserve directly, but his combat experience and fighting ability still need to be improved."

"So he kept repeating the year."

Sahar nodded, understanding the changes he had undergone in that other world. He also thanked Slazov.

"Thank you for your kind words, Your Excellency Slazov."

But Slazov didn't give him any face at all.

"You're thanking me too soon. Slazov of the Midnight Reapers has absolutely nothing to do with you, Master of the Claws of the Night Lords."

Sahar was speechless.

They're still part of the Eighth Legion, after all. They should at least show some respect and give us some face.

However, Slazov has his own set of behavioral logic.

I wouldn't even give the Imperium Chancellor face, who do you think you are?

Do you know what machine guns are used for?

It's for shooting people, of course.

"Old Company Commander, he's embarrassed," Weiss reminded him from the side.

"What does this have to do with me? He asked unnecessary questions. Would this have happened if he hadn't asked?"

Forehead...

Although Slazov is a veteran with a strong mental fortitude, he was still unable to handle this situation.

"What do you need me for?"

"Sir Slazov, I would like to have a friendly spar with you, not in the Octagon, but right here in the square."

To everyone's surprise, Slazov shook his head and refused outright.

"Forget it, Sahar, at least the one from the Midnight Reapers could hold his own against me."

"As for you, Night Lords, you might not even be my match in the Octagon, let alone in an open environment."

"Then please enlighten me, sir."

Tsk.

Why is Sahar, the Night Lords, so stubborn?

"Old Company Commander, why don't we give him some face? After all, he's Master of the Claws, which is quite prestigious around here," Weiss said.

Slazov glared at the other man. "If you want to rest, then rest properly. Don't be so talkative."

These two guys have been living in the Octagon ever since they were so talkative, and they still dare to talk back now.

They really don't learn their lesson.

"Alright, out of respect for you, Master of the Claws, I may spar with you."

Slazov could clearly see what Sahar was up to.

It's simply because he lost an arm and is using a prosthetic arm as a replacement; even if he loses, he can at least salvage some dignity.

However, Slazov didn't expose the other party. Since the other party needed to save face, let him save face; it made no difference.

"Same as always, in the Octagon."

"Your Excellency Slazov..."

"If you want to achieve your goals, come with me into the Octagon. No more nonsense."

The environment Octagon is relatively simple and enclosed, so even if the opponent loses, they can still have something to say. This is the opportunity that Slazov gave him.

In an open environment, the opponent's head will fly off within five moves.

"No problem, please, sir."

The two entered the Octagon. Slazov looked at Sahar, and the Night Lords outside the Octagon surrounded them again.

Sahar is no ordinary man; he is Master of the Claws.

The Night Lords have reason to believe, and already believe, that this veteran of the Night Lords will bring about a different outcome to the situation.

"Let's begin." Slazov assumed a fighting stance.

Sahar did not hesitate and rushed forward when he saw the opportunity.

Slazov easily dodged his attack, but Sahar couldn't dodge the machine gunner's next attack.

"Wrong angle, too little pressure, keep going."

Sahar was taken aback when he heard this.

The other person wasn't just sparring with me; they were intentionally guiding me.

Sahar would have considered this an insult if it were anyone else, but Sahar didn't have that thought when facing Slazov, nor would he dare to.

From the very first moment they clashed, Sahar knew he was no match for this Retired Veteran.

There's even a bold guess.

This so-called Retired Veteran is actually the real commander of this squad.

"Don't stare into my eyes, stare into my joints, watch my movements."

The moment he spoke, Slazov attacked again.

Sahar barely managed to dodge it after exerting all his strength.

"You're learning pretty fast, keep going."