Chapter 15: This Is What You Call a Battle

Arthur, having changed into his chainmail, donned the horse-face visor custom-made at Stone Hedge, then swung his greatsword a few times, feeling it was even more handy.

Sure enough, Weapon Proficiency could increase his mastery of the greatsword.

This feeling was indescribable; to use an analogy, it was as if the sword had become an extension of his arm.

Although Arthur's swordsmanship had not improved, higher proficiency allowed him to use the weapon with greater agility.

Confidence welled up within him.

Regardless of who Hans Darry might be, I, old Arthur, will cut him down with one strike.

The attendant led Arthur back to the training grounds behind the castle.

At this moment, a burly man with a gray, bushy beard was already standing in the arena, wearing silver plate armor of the type more commonly produced in the Westerlands, without a visor or faceplate of any kind.

He was a head shorter than Arthur, with a noticeably broader build, looking sturdy and powerful.

It seemed this was Hans Darry.

During the Usurper's War, the Darry family were royalists, having given their all for Prince Rhaegar.

After Robert took the throne, he punished royalist families like the Darrys and Conningtons with reduced fiefs and increased taxes.

Consequently, many high-paid Knights from these families came out to make a living to reduce their families' daily expenses.

Hans Darry was one such example.

Otherwise, given his ability, the Darry family would never have been willing to let him go.

Seeing Arthur enter the arena, Hendry said with a hint of smugness: "My dear Arthur, Master Hans is peerless in martial arts; you had better be careful."

Arthur thought for a moment; he still had one hundred and eighty Gold Dragons that hadn't been wagered, so he spoke up: "Hand those one hundred and eighty Gold Dragons of mine to the two soldiers I brought."

Hendry asked in surprise: "Not betting on yourself anymore? The odds are one to one this time."

Arthur firmly refused, "No more betting."

He was no hothead; he still understood the principle of asset hedging.

If he won the fight and borrowed five hundred Bracken soldiers, he could fully confront the Blackwoods head-on without fearing them at all.

If he lost the fight, at least he would have won some money and not made the trip in vain.

As for how to resolve the issues with the Blackwoods and Brynden Blackwood when the time came, it seemed he would have to go to Riverrun and ask Edmure to handle it.

The only benefit of being in the Riverlands was that the liege lord was truly a good person.

As long as Edmure Tully, that Riverrun Protector whose ears were softer than his heart, stepped in, Arthur would have no problem keeping his territory.

As for whether he could squeeze any money out of Brynden Blackwood, that was hard to say.

"Then let us begin." Hendry's tone turned indifferent.

His view of this battle was the same as most people's.

That was that Hans would win; reflected in the betting, more people had bet on Hans to win than in the previous matches.

After all, one was a long-established veteran warrior, while the other was merely a rising star.

And this rising star had only won two matches.

In the spectator stands, most people were punching the air and cheering to root for Hans, while there was almost no sound from those supporting Arthur.

In the arena.

"I watched the first two matches; you are a good talent. If you had a bit more technique and agility, perhaps you could fight me to a draw." This cold-looking Knight evaluated his opponent thus.

The implication was that the current Arthur was no match for him.

Arthur shook his head, "You should rephrase that."

"What?" Hans was puzzled.

"You should say, there are few people in the world who can fight me to a draw."

Hans did not understand, shook his head, said no more, and with a *whoosh*, drew his sword.

Perhaps because he was focused on his opponent, Arthur felt that the action of drawing the sword actually made the blade vibrate enough to make a sound.

Hans attacked first, his five-foot sword carving an extremely sharp arc, striking from the underside of Arthur's left hand.

This angle of attack was quite tricky; Arthur's greatsword could only block it, unable to exert force to stop the advance.

Fortunately, he had experience; he held the sword with his left hand and stepped forward, using his left thigh to brace against the blade to hold off Hans's sword, while his right hand swung fiercely toward Hans's chin.

Who said a swordsman couldn't use his fists?

Hans retreated a step, dodging the punch.

The distance between the two widened slightly.

Arthur hurriedly swung his greatsword with his left hand and thrust forward.

Hans was slightly taken aback, "How are you so fast?"

He had to dodge to the side, simultaneously swinging his sword to slash at Arthur.

"I have always been this fast; I am a fast man."

Arthur shifted his toes and heels slightly to adapt to the need for leg power, then used the thrusting sword to parry.

Under the expectant gazes of dozens of spectators, the two swords rushed toward each other.

The sound of metal clashing rang throughout the arena!

Then Arthur seized the momentum, swung his greatsword, and began to slash.

Hans was not only highly skilled, but his raw strength was also very high; this greatsword confrontation was not a bit weaker than Arthur's.

Both men displayed an unstoppable momentum.

"To slay a general in formation, to suppress mountains and rivers—these are the words to describe such a scene. This is what you call a battle!" Ma Ke said with his mouth slightly agape, sighing sincerely.

He was completely captivated by the two men's battle; in just one exchange, the brilliance of the changing moves exceeded the sum of the previous two matches.

Hendry, sitting next to him, looked on in disbelief, "How is it possible? How can he withstand Hans's moves?"

He knew just how strong Hans was.

Whether in technique or strength, he is at the pinnacle of the guest warriors of Stone Hedge.

I wouldn't dare speak for other places, but at the very least in the Riverlands, the number of Knights who could defeat Hans can be counted on one's fingers.

Although this has to do with the Riverlands not being particularly martial, Hans's strength is beyond doubt.

At the very least, he is at the level of a first-rate warrior in Westeros.

If it weren't for the fact that Hendry is currently the Castellan, he wouldn't be able to order Hans to fight for him.

Yet Arthur, who was previously unknown, is actually able to fight Hans to this extent.

Even if he loses this match, he is about to make a name for himself in the Riverlands.

And considering the potential Tourney, such a powerful warrior would be recruited and favored by many great lords.

Making Blackwood House stop coveting a few villages would just be a matter of a favor from those great lords.

Hendry suddenly realized that he had not handled Arthur's plea for help very well.

Watching Hendry's shifting expression, Kalier Fansi felt his mood, previously dampened by Dilun Weishui's defeat, improve significantly.

After all, the person he chose had lost, which was roughly equivalent to telling others that his judgment was poor and the Knights under his jurisdiction were also subpar.

It was still a bit embarrassing.

If Arthur won, then he would be just like the two people beside him, and the strange looks from others would diminish significantly.

A clang rang out on the field again as the two became entangled.

Arthur knew well that his combat experience was far inferior to his opponent's, so he used offense as defense, hacking away like a raging storm.

Hans defended flawlessly, like a needle unable to pierce through and water unable to seep in.

Among the dozens of spectators, there were fewer cheers; many people widened their eyes, watching Hans's textbook-level defense.

Such live observation is an excellent learning opportunity for some lower-ranking nobles who cannot afford a good Master-at-arms.

Just as commoners have no way to systematically learn martial arts, lower-ranking nobles are also resource-deprived in this regard.

Unless one is the foster son of a great lord, such as Petyr Baelish, a minor noble from the Fingers who became the foster son of Riverrun Protector Hoster Tully, one could enjoy the instruction of the Riverrun Master-at-arms.

But clearly, Lord Baelish, nicknamed Littlefinger, did not learn any profound martial arts.

PS: Some readers mentioned the issue of the Gold Dragon; I feel my setting is not significantly incorrect.

The exchange rate of one Gold Dragon to two hundred and ten Silver Stags is very inaccurate; in Martin's books, there are various basic currencies such as Gold Dragons, Silver Stags, Silver Moons, Copper Pennies, Copper Halfpennies, and Copper Stars, with exchange rates varying according to local prices.

When Tyrion Lannister hired the Second Sons, a sergeant cost one hundred Gold Dragons, an officer one thousand Gold Dragons, and the commander one hundred thousand Gold Dragons plus a castle and a noble title.

Everyone can use this price for reference.

I don't know the source of the claim that seven hundred Gold Dragons could hire a small portion of the Golden Company, but it is likely baseless.

The leader of the Golden Company is a descendant of Blackfyre and has Targaryen blood; they are not that cheap.

Finally, asking for recommendation votes and monthly votes.

(End of this chapter)