Chapter 26: A Double Duel
The Spartan warrior, Tullius, held the training stick horizontally in front of his chest with both hands.
Then, a straight thrust.
The thrust was swift and fierce, almost exceeding the limit of what the naked eye could see.
Eleanor raised her shield to intercept. The stick and shield collided, and the force of the impact made her left hand numb.
A word popped into her mind.
Rigidity.
“Two ways to create rigidity,” Asker’s voice echoed from the memory of their daily training on Furnace Island. “One is parrying, the other is blocking. The state of rigidity is the best time to counterattack.”
“But, according to what you said, when the enemy’s weapon hits my shield, because force is reciprocal, both of our arms will enter rigidity, so how can we counterattack?”
“Idiot!” Asker knocked her on the head with the hilt of his sword. “He’s holding the weapon with his right hand, and you’re holding the shield with your left hand. Trade your left hand’s rigidity for his right hand’s rigidity, and then your right hand can attack with a weapon.”
Seize the rigidity, counterattack.
Eleanor’s right hand thrust out, the training stick aiming straight at Tullius’ chest.
With his arms in rigidity, he couldn’t block, he could only take the hit!
“If you judge that the opponent can only take the hit, then you have to consider how to turn the opening move into a combo.” Asker’s voice seemed to echo in her ears.
“A normal attack will cause flinching, but flinching is different from rigidity, it doesn’t directly affect the arms.”
“Therefore, the enemy can still make defensive actions. If they successfully parry or block, then your first-mover advantage is wasted.”
“Don’t think about damage, think more about using control skills. Of course, the enemy will also anticipate this.”
“So you have to vary your moves, deceive your opponent, and your thinking must be flexible!”
Tullius’ pupils constricted, staring at the stick thrusting towards him.
The timing was too perfect. His arms were still numb from the impact of the block, unable to raise the training stick to parry the attack.
So, dodge or take the hit?
If he dodged, the opponent would definitely pursue.
How could he end the fight quickly then? And in the eyes of the onlookers, it would look like he was being pressured!
He couldn’t dodge! As a woman, the opponent’s strength must be limited.
He could withstand multiple hits from her, but as long as he hit her once, the fight would be over!
Tullius didn’t dodge or block, but just took half a step back, preparing to take the hit.
And counterattack.
The opponent’s training stick had already reached his chest, and his arms had also recovered from the numbness.
It was too late to dodge. He swung the stick horizontally with both arms, aiming for the opponent’s fair neck.
As long as he hit, with his strength, he would definitely knock the opponent unconscious…
No!
The stick reached his lower chest and suddenly seemed to transform into a spear.
Eleanor twisted her wrist slightly and lifted the spear upwards.
Dragon Spear!
A sharp pain spread from his abdomen throughout his body, and Tullius was lifted into the air by the force of the stick.
This pain wasn’t fatal to him, but the danger was that he had been lifted into the air, his feet off the ground.
While airborne, he couldn’t exert the strength of his waist and abdomen, and the force of his counterattack would be greatly reduced!
Wait a minute!
His expression instantly changed because Eleanor had already dropped the shield in her left hand and taken a step forward with the stick in both hands.
She dragged the training stick to her right side, twisted her waist and abdomen, and swung her weapon forcefully.
Iron Cutter!
Tullius in mid-air couldn’t dodge, he could only hurriedly block with his stick horizontally.
This Iron Cutter swung a 90-degree arc and directly hit Tullius’ block.
With a bang, both training sticks instantly broke in two under the powerful impact.
The broken ends of the sticks then hit Tullius hard in the abdomen, sending him flying backwards.
The surrounding Spartan warriors immediately erupted, even the bald, muscular man who had been sitting motionless behind the recruitment table suddenly stood up.
Tullius flew seven or eight meters before landing, rolling on the ground awkwardly to dissipate the force, and then stood up unsteadily.
His abdomen was covered with bloody marks from the broken stick, although it looked terrifying, he wasn’t actually seriously injured.
But in the eyes of the onlookers, in this exchange that lasted less than five breaths, Tullius had lost completely.
“Tullius, are you alright?” The bald, muscular man asked coldly.
Tullius’ face turned red.
It was just a hit from a broken stick, what could happen? The bald man asking him this question was clearly mocking him.
Spartans despised the weak. Tullius, who had lost to a woman, was undoubtedly labeled as weak.
“This lady, your combat strength has passed our approval.” The bald man said with a straight face. “Next, Bitias, you’re up.”
Bitias stepped forward and picked up a wooden sword from the side.
“Sidlipha, it’s your turn.” Asker said.
“Okay!” Sidlipha stepped forward excitedly, looked at the wooden sword in the other party’s hand, and said, “Since you’re not using a real sword, I’ll also switch to a wooden sword, so as not to be accused of bullying you southerners.”
Northerner? Bitias stared at her light golden hair, narrowed his eyes, and said nothing.
Sidlipha picked up two wooden swords from the side. Just as she straightened up, Bitias had already rushed to her, his wooden sword slashing down heavily.
“Aha!” Sidlipha shouted, her right-hand wooden sword already swinging out in a backhand slash.
The swords collided, Bitias retreated to dissipate the force, and saw Sidlipha’s left-hand wooden sword slashing again.
Bitias immediately raised his wooden sword to block. His arms went numb for a moment, and just as he was about to counterattack, the opponent’s right-hand wooden sword swung again.
“Something’s not right.” The bald man watching suddenly said.
“Suppressed?” Another Spartan asked.
“No, he’s been tricked.” The bald man shook his head.
“Tullius, facing the spear and shield warrior before, chose to take the opponent’s thrust attack head-on. As a result, the opponent temporarily changed their move, catching him off guard, lifting and throwing him.”
“This gave Bitias the illusion that this northern woman might also be a skilled warrior, so he focused too much on defense, not giving the opponent any chance to change their moves.”
“Focusing on defense is not a problem.” The Spartan warrior said, “As long as her attacks can’t break through his defense, the attacker will undoubtedly consume more stamina. Plus she’s a woman, she will eventually be at a disadvantage against Bitias.”
“What if the opponent’s stamina is stronger?” The bald man said coldly. “What if this northerner’s physical strength is higher than Bitias’?”
If their stamina couldn’t compare to the opponent’s, and they were still blindly maintaining a defensive posture… the Spartans’ hearts sank.
Wouldn’t that be being suppressed to death?
“Why don’t you attack?” Sidlipha asked, slashing down with her double swords.
This is a trap to lure the enemy… Bitias thought to himself, focusing even more on blocking and defending, looking for opportunities to counterattack.
“If you don’t attack, I’m going to speed up!” Sidlipha said.
Speed up? What, she can still speed up?
Bitias was stunned for a moment and suddenly felt the frequency of impacts on his sword double.
Mantis Cut!
Sidlipha attacked alternately with her left and right swords, the rhythm completely staggered, forming an attack speed twice the normal rate under the high-frequency strikes.
Bitias felt his hands aching, his wooden sword trembling constantly under the storm-like attacks, as if it would break in the next second.
“Whirlwind Slash!” Sidlipha roared, her waist twisting, driving her arms, and her wooden swords spinning at high speed.
Bitias hurriedly jumped back, dodging out of her attack range.
Sidlipha suddenly stopped spinning, her left wooden sword already thrown forcefully, whistling towards Bitias.
The latter lifted his wooden sword, deflecting the thrown wooden sword. Sidlipha had already rushed to him, slashing at his lower abdomen.
Bitias could only hurriedly strike downwards with the hilt of his sword. Before he could hit the opponent’s head, he felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen, his entire stomach seeming to spasm.
He involuntarily dropped his wooden sword, clutched his abdomen, and vomited a mouthful of sour water.
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