Chapter 24: Stuck Between a Rock and a Hard Place
“Master, are you alright?” Nuremberg once again produced a small folding stool from behind him, set it up on the ground for Richard Tennar to sit on, and quickly poured him some tea.
Richard Tennar sat down with his eyes closed, took a sip of tea, and said slowly:
“My strength is exhausted, I cannot fight again. You shall enter yourselves, and do not tarnish my honor.”
This translated to: the old Sword Saint had just used power beyond the magic tide limit, and now he had to suppress his spirituality on the verge of losing control. He wouldn’t participate in the battle anymore, they should go in and resolve the anomaly themselves, and they should do it cleanly and efficiently, so as not to embarrass him.
“Yes, I will stay here and watch over Master.” Nuremberg said respectfully, turning his head. “Then, Hans…”
He was about to order Hans, his second-in-command, to lead the team as usual when he suddenly seemed to remember something and changed his words:
“Chief Asker, could you perhaps lead the team on my behalf? I need to stay here with Master, so…”
“What?!” Except for Hans, all the swordsmen were in an uproar.
Just letting this guy hold the title of chief was one thing; they could tolerate it since it was Master’s decision, though they were still disgruntled.
But now he was going to lead them into battle! What if he was a weakling? Wouldn’t that lead them all to their deaths?
Some hot-headed ones, like swordsman Martin, went directly to Hans’ side, urging him with their eyes to protest.
“I have no objections,” Hans said. “Chief Asker, do you have any problems?”
The swordsmen were dumbfounded. Hans, where were your usual snarky remarks and sharp tongue? Your command had been taken away! Shouldn’t you be making some sarcastic comments right now?
“No problem,” Asker said. “But I’m not familiar with everyone’s strength yet, so let’s have everyone report their swordsmanship level first.”
Well, this guy really takes himself seriously as the leader. The swordsmen were even more disgruntled. Hans stepped forward and said:
“I’ll go first. My name is Hans Dubliner. I am currently the second-in-command of the Swordsman Group, level 7, practicing Master’s ‘Fury Sword Style’.”
“Hmm.” Asker nodded. Richard Tennar’s swordsmanship had five major styles. “Fury Sword” was focused on frontal assault and suppression, considered a rather aggressive style. “Show me a few moves.”
A live demonstration? He’s treating us like circus clowns! The swordsmen felt indignant. However, Hans nonchalantly drew his sword and skillfully swung it on the spot.
Double Moon Slash, a swift lunge, a spinning throat cut, finishing with a backward leaping Mountain Splitter.
“Is that enough?” Hans asked, stopping.
“I have a general understanding,” Asker nodded. “Next.”
No swordsman spoke up. Hans sheathed his sword and pointed at a swordsman in the crowd:
“Andrew Jordan, the third-in-command, step forward!”
Why are you acting like his subordinate?! Andrew thought, exasperated, as he walked forward listlessly. “I’m Andrew Jordan, third-in-command of the Swordsman Group, practicing Master’s ‘Splitting Sword Style’…”
Regardless of the swordsmen’s resistance, arrogance, or provocation, Asker remained calm, and with Hans’s help, he learned about their respective sword styles, levels, and combat habits.
“What about these two ladies? No introductions?” Hans turned his gaze to Medea and Nuo, his tone clearly implying, “What about your two arm accessories?”
“This is Medea, our team’s Arcane Fire Mage,” Asker introduced. Since Psychics were sensitive in the West, it was better to pretend she was a Fire Mage.
Medea, understanding, snapped her fingers, and flames erupted from her fingertips.
“Ooh.” The swordsmen’s expressions softened slightly. After all, Medea was a great beauty with a fiery figure and could manipulate flames. Her combat power was clearly guaranteed, instantly earning her their initial goodwill – of course, it would be better if she wasn’t in this annoying guy’s team.
“The other is Nuo, our team’s healer,” Asker continued.
“Hello everyone, if anyone gets injured, you can come to me,” Nuo said with a gentle smile.
“Whoa!” The swordsmen became even more excited. A doctor! A true friend to swordsmen, after all, who could guarantee they wouldn’t be injured in battle? They usually had to rely on each other for patching up wounds. Now, with such a pure and beautiful young girl, the pain of treatment would be reduced by half!
“Finally, there’s me, Asker. Currently the leader of the Azure Longsword mercenary group and, at your master’s invitation, also the honorary chief of your Swordsman Group.” Asker said finally. “I’m proficient in various weapons and also know a bit about tactical command. I hope everyone will cooperate, let’s have a pleasant collaboration.”
The swordsmen coldly turned their heads, looking everywhere but at Asker.
“Alright, let’s move out!” Asker, ignoring their coldness, said cheerfully. “Everyone, line up and go through the door!”
So Hans led the swordsmen through the gap in the iron door one after another. Although Franks had large frames, these swordsmen seemed to be underfed, and with their high training intensity, they were all lean and thin, quickly passing through the narrow gap.
Nuo squeezed through the gap with some difficulty… Have I gained weight recently? Alarm bells immediately rang in her mind, and she silently deleted her dinner plans.
Then came Medea. She shrunk her body and carefully tried to squeeze through the gap…
…and got stuck.
“Stuck?” Medea was dumbfounded. Nuo, waiting on the other side, and Asker outside, were also stunned.
“You’re stuck.” Asker tried to push her. “You’re too fat.”
“Me? Too fat?” Medea felt a surge of anger and almost cursed out loud.
It couldn’t be helped. The gap wasn’t wide. Sometimes you could just barely squeeze through if you held your breath, but if you relaxed even slightly, you’d get stuck.
However, for women, figure was a sensitive topic. The fact that those swordsmen could pass through, while she, a delicate woman, couldn’t, made it even more embarrassing.
Am I fat? Medea really wanted to curse. I’m just…curvaceous, okay?
Under everyone’s awkward gazes, she held back her curses and just glared at Asker.
Asker borrowed some sword oil from Nuremberg outside (usually applied to the sword blade to prevent rust) and used it as a lubricant, finally pushing Medea through.
She collapsed into Nuo’s arms, pale and silent, as if she had suffered a major psychological blow.
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