Chapter 698: The Dawn of the Contest (Part 5) — 'Practice' on the 'Training Ground

Jier leaped into the air, immediately shedding the clumsy appearance he had while wearing armor.

He threw his Hunting Sword the moment he jumped, aiming directly at a Bandit who was not very capable of fighting. The moment the Long Sword left his hand, it was propelled by immense force, piercing through the top of the Bandit's head; the Bandit's mouth hung open, and the tip of the sword emerged from his chin.

The Bandit remained in the posture of swinging his wooden-handled Heavy Weapon to strike the ground, then collapsed directly onto the ground and died.

But Jier, whose right hand was now empty, was not without a weapon; as he reached the highest point of his leap, he drew the Magic Dagger Heart Fire with his right hand and whispered, "Scorching!"

Immediately, a meter-long, sword-shaped flame erupted from the edge of the dagger.

The next moment, Jier descended from the sky, carrying the magical weapon that shone with the terrifying brilliance of the sun.

With a loud boom, Jier landed on the ground, incidentally snapping two or three wooden handles of Heavy Weapons that had been swung into the ground and not yet lifted. He turned his right hand, sweeping the flame in a half-circle, and the three Bandits to his right fell backward with their upper bodies ablaze.

Jier then used the Shield on his left arm to parry a Long Sword thrusting toward his Helmet, then twisted his body to slash out with the flaming sword.

Weier, who was wielding a sword, dodged the surging flames that could ignite a human body by falling backward, but the other two Bandits did not understand and still wanted to strike the Knight with the weapons in their hands.

It must be said that this group of Bandits had great Yongqi; facing an enemy they clearly could not defeat, they did not give up their attack.

But they had chosen the wrong opponent.

Compared to the heavy wooden-handled Heavy Weapons and two-handed logging axes that required wind-up, the Magic Dagger in Jier's hand was much faster to wield. Especially as the sword-shaped jet of flame used for attacking, they looked large but had no weight at all; swinging them was purely a matter of following the orientation of the dagger's blade.

The relatively lightweight Magic Dagger was swung in an 'X' shape in front of Jier; the rapid and continuous strikes themselves had no impact, but the intersecting flames ignited the two Bandits on Jier's left.

"Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh—"

"Fire! It hurts—"

"Save me! Save me! Save m—"

The five Bandits who had been quickly brushed by the flames around Jier were now rolling desperately on the ground, but their messy long hair, full of hair oil, along with their greasy Beast Skin Clothing, began to burn fiercely.

Some inhaled the flames on their bodies while calling for help, swallowing fire as they wailed incessantly.

Some tried hard to pour loose dirt from the clearing onto themselves, barely extinguishing most of the flames on their heads and faces before their skin could split and flesh could tear, but the flames on their upper bodies continued to spread across their entire bodies along their Beast Skin Clothing.

The waterproof Beast Skin Clothing, which they usually treasured as if they were precious, had now become the key factor in taking their lives and combat effectiveness.

Shanlang Bani naturally saw this scene; his eyes split with rage, and he roared as he joined the battle himself.

But the sturdy, middle-aged Bandit Leader, who dual-wielded a Single-handed Axe and a Long Sword, had no experience fighting against a magic weapon and subconsciously tried to block the sword-shaped flame erupting from the Magic Dagger as if it were a real weapon.

As soon as they clashed, the intangible flame bypassed the edge of the axe and the tip of the Long Sword, quickly sweeping across the handle of the weapon.

Fortunately, Shanlang Bani was wearing a leather Glove; being brushed by the flame like that, it was scorching but did not catch fire.

Cursing, Shanlang Bani roared, "Run! He is not someone we can defeat!"

But as his confidant, Weier did not heed the advice and insisted on attacking the Knight: "I will not run again! Go to hell! You damned killer!"

He took the opportunity to kick up the handle of a two-handed axe from the ground, twisted his Long Sword to make the axe spin, and then flicked his sword, sending the axe spinning toward the Knight.

But to his surprise, the flame sword in the Knight's right hand disappeared, and the now-empty right hand caught the spinning two-handed logging axe sideways.

Jier stowed the Magic Dagger, the flames vanishing instantly, and caught it with his left hand behind the Shield, then reached out with his right hand to catch the handle of the axe flying toward his face.

What a joke; the weapon he was most proficient with was the two-handed axe, especially since his own axe could rotate and fly around on its own to kill enemies; he had long been accustomed to catching axes spinning toward him with his hands.

"Any other tricks? Hmm?"

Casually throwing the two-handed logging axe he had just caught toward the fleeing Bandit Leader, Jier strode toward the sword-wielding enemy who was staring at him in a daze.

The two-handed axe, thrown at an angle, whistled as it caught up to Shanlang Bani, who hadn't run more than two steps, passing directly behind his left knee and easily severing the Bandit Leader's lower left leg from his body.

With a thud, he fell to the ground, and the Bandit Leader looked down at his left leg in disbelief.

"Huff, huff, impossible, impossible, I must survive, I can survive!"

He was stunned for a moment, then dropped one of the weapons in his hand and hurriedly tore off the hem of his upper garment, tying it tightly above the knee where blood was spurting out in small spurts.

Whether from blood loss or fear, this Bandit Leader, who had always been confident and somewhat famous for his cunning and meticulous planning, was now pale-faced.

On his rough face, cold sweat was seeping from his forehead and dripping down the ends of his neatly groomed hair.

Once he had slightly stanched the blood loss, he grabbed his severed left leg and began to tremble all over.

Above his head, nocturnal birds smelled the fresh blood, flapped their wings, and landed on a branch not far from Shanlang Bani, their red eyes looking down, coldly sizing up the Human's situation.

In the clearing, the two stood in a standoff.

It was not quite a standoff, because the young Knight standing in the center of the clearing clearly held the absolute advantage in momentum.

And the sword-wielding expert opposite him, who was crouching low, was incredibly agitated.

A pair of glowing eyes inside the Steel Helmet sized him up, making Weier realize that throughout the battle from the ridge, the opponent had not used his full strength to face him at all.

"You damned arrogant killer."

He gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath.

"Killer! Killer! Killer? I have a question: why do you think a Knight like me would be a killer?"

Jier tossed the Magic Dagger from his left hand to his right, his steel-clad fingertips spinning the gorgeous and dangerous Magic Dagger, before inserting it into the dagger sheath on his right waist.

Weier noticed the opponent's movement and only then realized that the previous magic weapon was actually just such a small dagger.

This discovery made his heart sink; he did not know how many more preparations and Magic Tools the enemy had.

It seemed he would only die tonight.

"I have a request."

Weier's face finally changed from its previous expression of hatred; instead, he pressed his lips together and timidly stated his final request.

A soft snort came from beneath the Knight's Faceplate, and then he extended his right hand, opening his palm: "Hunting, return!"

A buzzing sound of the Long Sword vibrating rang out, and then the Long Sword that had pierced through a Bandit's head broke free from the 'shackles' of the Human Head, bounced a few times on the ground, and finally sprang forcefully into the Knight's open palm.

"Hmm, still not quite there; it would be better if it could just fly back directly."

The Knight opposite muttered to himself, which made Weier speak up again, his voice a bit louder: "I have a request!"

"Speak."

The opponent's blunt tone made Weier pause.

He then said: "After I die, please take my remains or ashes back to my family; even if the family cemetery has been destroyed by you, please send my remains there."

Jier's face twitched beneath his faceplate; he felt this person truly had some mental issues.

First, he indiscriminately slandered him as an assassin—what a joke, you are nothing but a robbing bandit yourself, how do you have the face to say anything about him? Then, when the Bandit Leader told him to run, he didn't run, insisting on confronting a Knight like himself. Now, look, the Bandit Leader didn't get away, and neither did he.

Finally, there was that strange request, talking about taking his ashes back to some inexplicable family cemetery.

"Are you crazy, you guy?"

Jier then swung his Long Sword casually: "It seems that when humans live in the Forest for a long time and do things that go against their conscience, their mental state really does go wrong."

"If it weren't for the fact that your Sword Technique is superb and I wanted to practice, I would have chopped you down on the hillside earlier to avenge my new subordinates."

Jier lifted his chin and said finally: "Madman, I'm talking to you, why don't you be a good sport and let me practice a few moves on you before you die?"

The young Knight's contemptuous attitude completely infuriated Weier, who had just set aside his dignity to make a request. He gripped the hilt of his beloved Long Sword tightly, then gritted his teeth, pulled the sword back, lowered his body, and arched his legs.

He assumed a most standard rear-guard fighting stance.

"You will pay the price for your insults," he said.

Jier chuckled and glanced at the Bandit Leader not far away, who was still trying to crawl away with only one leg left: "Hurry up and come, show me your real skills."

Inhale, exhale.

The young Swordsman let go of the grudges brought about by the annihilation of his family, the years of wandering and displacement, the self-reproach of killing the innocent, and the surging rage of having his skills looked down upon at this moment.

These experiences and emotions were all suppressed, leaving only the purest state of mind and thought.

Whether the Knight before him was an assassin sent by a hostile family no longer mattered; he seemed to have returned to the past, to those peaceful times when he was a student at a renowned Swordsman Academy, learning Sword Technique from a Swordmaster who served as his sparring partner.

The dim Shulin faded away, and a bright training ground appeared before his eyes.

Around him were no longer wailing, burned bandits, but the discussions of excellent children from various families, dressed in crisp swordsman uniforms.

"Gantnier Family, Weier, please enlighten me."

Jier was stunned for a moment, then chuckled: "Kendall Expeditionary Army, Qiao-Jier."

The tip of the Hunting Sword touched the ground, tapping lightly against the loose soil with the rhythm of its master's breathing.

Seeming to sense the opponent's momentum, Jier placed his Hand Shield in front of his left side, turned his body sideways, and stood with his legs staggered.

The two maintained this for several breaths, until the moment a bandit burned by the flames nearby clawed at his scorched throat and died of suffocation, the battle began.

Jier kept in mind the martial arts he had learned haphazardly, moved forward with small steps, and launched an attack.

The tip of the Hunting Sword grazed the ground, leaving a thin, long mark.

Facing the incoming 'Swordmaster', the youth Weier kept his teacher's teachings in mind; he dared not meet the enemy head-on, but instead avoided the sharp edge first, seeking the powerful enemy's weaknesses and vitals through entanglement.

He crouched slightly, then quickly dodged to his right, opening up a bit of distance before using small hops to accelerate his change in direction.

Weier was defending the perimeter, so when facing the 'Swordmaster' attacking the inner circle, he needed to move more to match the opponent's slight turns and maintain a consistent relative orientation; to increase the threat and possibility of attack, he even had to move faster, staying one or two steps ahead of the opponent's slow turning.

But Jier was not the defender; he was the attacker. How could he let the madman enemy named Weier succeed in avoiding the battle or finding an advantageous position by circling at a distance?

Glancing at the ground, Jier kicked, sending a wooden-handled heavy hammer on the ground toward the spot where the madman Weier would be next.

"Despicable."

'Youth Weier' shouted, but the 'Swordmaster' in front of him just gave a mocking smile: "How can you call tactical matters despicable?"

He stopped moving his body, letting the heavy wooden-handled hammer whistle past his side, but the moment his rapidly moving body slowed down and paused, the 'Swordmaster' opposite him charged straight up.

"You look down on me too much, take this!"

Jier was somewhat surprised. After the madman Weier shouted, he quickly swung a strike, slashing at his Hunting Sword's blade, but this strike was merely a feint; the opponent's left leg planted and bent, and a direct kick to his shield-bearing right leg was the true goal.

The Hunting Sword, having been parried, could not reach in time to sever the opponent's leg or force him back by slashing at his head.

Jier had no choice but to take a half-step forward with his left foot and brace the shield to take the kick.

Bang!

Raising an eyebrow, Jier felt it was nothing much. The opponent's strength was not small, but it was only at the level of an ordinary person. Jier, having suppressed his own strength to the level of an ordinary person, easily blocked the opponent's attack; the shield being kicked did not cause him to retreat or lose his balance.

But this was merely one part of the opponent's killing move.

Jier suddenly felt that the shield was not being kicked, but that there was force stepping down on it. It turned out that this madman Weier actually intended to use his shield to gain a high position and attack his head and shoulders!

"Hmph!"

Jier could not let this person have his way. Although this move was quite unexpected, it might work against an ordinary person, but it wouldn't work against a Knight. He exerted force with his left arm, abruptly lifting the shield upward along with the opponent's step, and his right hand directly released the hilt of the Long Sword, clenching his fist and punching hard behind the shield.

Bang!

You want to step on my shield to leap up and attack? Then I'll let you step on the shield and go to the sky! Off you go!

"Eh?"

'Youth Weier' was rejoicing that he had made the 'Swordmaster' suffer and fall into a crisis; after all, once his Long Sword touched the vital point of his sparring opponent, he could declare victory in the practice.

But the 'Swordmaster's' subsequent action took him by surprise.

Following his kick and leverage on the shield, the opponent did not passively bear the force, but exerted strength to lift him up, sending him upward!

'Youth Weier' was sent several meters into the air in one breath.

At this moment, he could clearly see the amusement in the eyes of the boys and girls looking over. At the same time, some whispers reached his ears.

"Look, the Gantnier kid is just like the circus clown from my house, hee hee hee."

"He's flying, but will he be skewered on the Swordmaster's Long Sword next?"

"Haha, like a clumsy fat turkey, he's lost all the face of the Gantnier family."

'Youth Weier's' face turned red with shame. He was anxious to explain something, but before the words could leave his mouth, the other boys and girls from various families, who were the same age as him, all covered their ears with their fingers, watching him with mocking faces, waiting for his ridiculous finale.

No, it can't be like this! It can't be like this! It can't be like this!

In an instant, the clean and tidy academy training ground disappeared, replaced by the dark and ugly Forest.

The mocking words and figures turned into the charred bandits writhing in pain on the ground.

The 'Swordmaster' also turned back into the arrogant Knight assassin who humiliated him.

"Ahhhhhhhh!!!!"

'Youth Weier', no, the twenty-something young man who had escaped in a sorry state from a family annihilated in a southern kingdom, roared and furiously threw his beloved sword downward.

The weapon fell downward a step ahead of its master.

But it was easily deflected by the young Knight, who had long been standing at the ready, using his Metal Shield; the Swordsman's furious strike did nothing more than leave one additional impact scratch on the silvery-white shield.

Subsequently, the love from Mother Earth captured every tiny Human who wished to fly.

Weier, empty-handed, roared and raged, viciously swinging his fists and kicking toward the direction of the fall.

Fortunately, Jier's Long Sword had been knocked from his hand just a moment ago; now, facing the young man who was likewise falling empty-handed, Jier spat in disdain.

Thud! First, he used his shield to block the opponent's fierce kick, then he shoved the shield forward; the madman unexpectedly was not knocked away, but instead used his ten fingers to grip the top edge of Jier's shield tightly, and after stabilizing himself slightly, he slammed his head into Jier's Steel Helmet like a wild beast.

"Crazy, he's definitely crazy!"

Cursing, Jier gathered strength in his right fist and, amidst the vibrating impact on his helmet, delivered a solid blow that sent the seemingly confused Weier flying.

Pfft.

Weier was struck in the left arm, and the immense force carried his entire body flying off to the side; even though his ten fingers tried their best to grip the edge of the Knight's shield, he was still knocked away heavily, spinning like a piece of tattered trash before crashing onto the soft, loose soil of the open ground.

With his left arm twisted, Weier, who had been knocked to the ground, stiffened his neck, his eyes rolling upward with effort to reveal a large expanse of whites.

He loudly muttered the name of a family, along with the names of various men and women, then rolled his eyes and collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness.