In front of the Castle Bridge, on the spacious white stone square.
When Lucian walked out of the castle gate with his two henchmen, the edge of the square had already been cordoned off with wooden stakes and ropes.
Outside the enclosure, nearly a hundred villagers had gathered, most of whom were farmers who had been drawn there after get off work.
The three of them finally managed to squeeze to the front of the crowd and saw what was happening inside the venue.
At this moment, ten militiamen are standing in formation on one side of the square.
On the opposite side of the field, at the other edge, stood ten human-shaped targets made of bundles of straw.
"Preparation--"
At Mito's command, the militiamen immediately unloaded their bolt-action rifles from their backs, knelt on one knee, and aimed.
"Shooting!"
Bang bang bang--!
A thick cloud of white smoke billowed from the gun muzzles, quickly spreading out and obscuring the shooters' figures.
This gun has many drawbacks, such as low accuracy, easy damage, difficulty in holding, and the production of a large amount of smoke during firing. Its only advantage is its extremely high power within its firing range.
A hundred meters away, six of the scarecrows had been torn to shreds by bullets, while the other four remained intact.
"Put your gun away!"
As the smoke slowly dissipated, the militiamen simultaneously pulled back the bolts to reload their rifles, then slung them back over their shoulders.
Without pausing for a moment, they split into pairs, and ten Ceramic Steel longswords were drawn simultaneously.
bite!
Swords flashed and shadows danced in the square as militiamen slashed and parried at each other with practiced skill.
The onlookers erupted in gasps of amazement.
"Good!"
"Pretty!"
"Mid lane, cut through his mid lane!"
In the eyes of ordinary villagers, these militiamen were already quite skilled with their swords, no worse than the veterans who had come from the battlefield.
But Lucian's expression remained unchanged.
While the soldiers of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind were fairly orderly in their formations and marching, their equipment was far too outdated.
Bolt-action rifles require ejecting the spent cartridge and reloading after each shot, but automatic rifles don't give them a chance to chamber a round.
Not only were they lacking rifles, but these militiamen also lacked the armor necessary for close combat.
When facing guards clad in Ceramic Steel armor or hard-shelled Sea of Corruption worms, the enemy can simply withstand the Ceramic Steel ' attacks, rendering their swordsmanship completely useless.
Is that all?
Lucian muttered to himself, unable to see anything remarkable about these soldiers.
"Stop!"
A deep voice rang out, Yupa strode into the square.
The militiamen immediately sheathed their swords and stood at attention, and the villagers outside the wall also quieted down.
"I once said that to protect the Valley of the Wind, you must become elite. I ask you, what does it mean to be elite?"
Yupa slowly swept his gaze over all the militiamen, his look stinging their skin.
Before anyone could answer, he continued:
"Their movements were sloppy, their formation was crooked, and they could even miss the target. They were holding swords, but their movements were like children playing with sticks."
"Do you really think this is what elite troops should look like?"
"It's a good thing we didn't send you out to rescue the refugees; with your level of skill, you'd be sent to your deaths if you encountered the bandits."
Yupa's voice was very calm, yet he belittled all the militiamen to the point of utter worthlessness and utter humiliation.
Lucian frowned.
Yupa had known his father, King Deus, for a long time.
Although he greatly admired this powerful explorer and knew of the master swordsman's prowess.
But this time, he felt that Yupa was being a bit too harsh.
In fact, these militiamen have done a very good job, not much different from the elite soldiers of Tolmekia or Pejite.
What these soldiers really need is to upgrade their outdated equipment, not to improve their ability to respond to orders and move in unison.
No matter how fast your reaction is, can it be faster than a bullet?
Lucian's doubts were finally voiced by a militiaman.
"Master Yupa, what you've described... is there anyone who can actually do it?"
Good question.
Yupa smiled; these were the words he had been waiting for.
"You can't do it simply because you haven't tried hard enough, and you're not tough enough on yourselves."
"Have you all been wondering why Por and the others were able to become Blessed Warrior?"
"Today, I'll show you what true elite status is!"
He turned to face the edge of the square, and only then did people notice that ten figures had been standing there the whole time.
How long have they been standing there? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes?
They remained motionless, making no sound, like ten sculptures blending into their surroundings.
" Blessed Warriors Squad, step forward!" Yupa commanded.
Ten people stepped forward simultaneously, their steps perfectly synchronized, onto the White Stone Square.
If you close your eyes and listen, it's as if you're walking alone.
They walked to the center of the square, turned around, and stood at attention.
The entire process was seamless, without a single word exchanged, not even a glance.
The moment those ten people stood still, their aura changed, giving people a sense of stability like a mountain.
The entire training ground fell silent, and everyone's attention was drawn to these Blessed Warrior.
"Such a powerful aura..."
Although Lucian had never witnessed Por and the others fighting, he could tell from their demeanor alone that these people were worlds apart from ordinary militiamen.
This quality stems from a "sense of discipline".
In this situation, a normal person would subconsciously glance at the crowd of onlookers, adjust their posture, or swallow saliva due to nervousness.
But these ten people kept their eyes fixed straight ahead, making no unnecessary movements, and their pupils showed almost no emotion.
Like a sharp sword sheathed, all its edge is concealed, yet it is all the more unsettling.
Even the guards personally trained by his father would find it difficult to reach this level. How did these people of the Valley of the Wind manage to do it?
In the center of the arena, Yupa walked up to the Blessed Warrior.
Do you remember what I said?
"We remember!" the soldiers answered in unison, their voices ringing out firmly.
"If you can defeat me, everyone will get a three-day holiday. This agreement still stands."
Yupa tossed the hem of his cloak and drew two swords from his waist.
The scabbard was just an ordinary leather product, but as the sword was slowly drawn out, the surrounding light seemed to dim, and the sound of the sword ringing out followed.
The two swords, one long and one short, are pure white.
" The Ohmu Twin Swords... Master Yupa is getting serious!" Lucian exclaimed in a low voice.
"What's that?" Tom asked curiously.
"Weapons crafted from the shell of the Corrupted Sea King Insect can easily pierce ceramic armor."
Lucian spoke very quickly, his eyes never leaving the room.
Those Blessed Warrior look very strong; this is going to be interesting.
As expected, Por and the other warriors also drew their swords and displayed their imposing presence.
Wasn't all that hard training over the past two weeks all for this day?
Upon seeing this, Yupa's lips curled into a smile.
He slowly raised his left-hand longsword, pointing it forward, while his right-hand shortsword was held horizontally in front of his chest, assuming a starting stance that combined offense and defense.
"Fighting--"
"Start!"