Chapter 55: Fiery Sparring Match
“Ka——”
The first time the two swung their swords at each other, they broke the wooden swords in each other’s hands. Rough wooden splinters flew from the broken ends. Having lost their weapons, the two had to resort to fists, but such a fight lacked any elegance and was called to a halt by the instructor.
“Stop. Now switch to unsharpened iron swords.” He announced again.
Soon, thick-edged iron swords were brought over by excited students and handed to the two.
Gripping the iron swords, the two swung them a few times simply to adapt to the change, then stepped back into the battlefield.
This time, without the instructor announcing, they charged at each other.
“Zzz——”
In the first clash, the iron swords scraped past each other, leaving deep spark scratches. Then the two separated and crossed again.
Their footwork was steady and powerful, their sword techniques extremely proficient. Since they shared the same instructor and the same set of sword techniques, there was no obvious gap between them.
“Clang——clang——”
The iron swords clashed and vibrated continuously, with bits of shattered sparks flying from the edges. If one looked closely at the two swords, one would see faint nicks already appearing on them.
The two went back and forth. Suolin occasionally circled around, then suddenly burst with power. That intense force made it hard for Mike to block each time, forcing him to defend with all his might. Sometimes Mike even had to retreat several steps to cushion the massive impact.
However, from Suolin’s perspective, it looked entirely different. He had unleashed all his abilities and techniques. Despite his huge advantages in power and speed, he still couldn’t defeat Mike or even injure him. This situation put immense pressure on Suolin.
After advancing to First Order, what he could previously use only twice a day—’power burst’—could now be used ten times. Yet under this continuous assault, the opponent actually withstood it?
First time……
Second time……
Third time……
The more he fought, the more shocked Suolin became. His strength at enrollment was not much different from Mike’s—in fact, he had been superior. Moreover, Mike had a particularly poor foundation in knowledge like secret histories, so he hadn’t taken him seriously.
It had only been half a month since their last clash in the assessment tournament, yet not only had the gap between them been closed, Mike had even surpassed him.
How was this possible?
Though from a commoner background, Suolin’s father was an experienced veteran warrior. He was proud and arrogant, believing that among the students, aside from Iona who relied on her family background to surpass him, no one else could match him—not even Baron, who held only a slight edge thanks to his noble father’s lingering influence.
As the fight progressed, Suolin’s mindset gradually unbalanced. He lost the steady confidence of the opening and began anxiously seeking Mike’s flaws, convinced that this guy’s sword technique foundation was weaker and must have imperfections.
To deny Mike any chance to breathe, Suolin began using power burst continuously. In this situation, Mike’s position became perilous.
Both used iron swords. Even unsharpened, under the force and hard material, they still had lethal power. This made the duel far less safe than past ones with wooden weapons, turning it dangerous.
The battle entered a stalemate. The watching students held their breath, and the instructor focused intently.
Off to one side of the battlefield, Komiya clenched her fists cheering for Mike, then turned her head.
“Tiya, do you think Mike can win?”
This black-haired maiden watched the two on the stage, a faint glow swirling in her eyes. After a few seconds, she spoke softly: “He will win, but he might get injured.”
“Clang——”
Another chop after a power burst—the fragile iron sword chipped off larger fragments, slicing Mike’s eye corner and adding a fierce edge to his already menacing face.
Under repeated suppression by Suolin, he could no longer hold back his frustration and began clashing swords with full force. Under their combined power, the iron swords couldn’t bear the strain.
Seeing Mike dare to fight back, Suolin’s rage exploded. Driven by inner anxiety and restlessness, his attacks became reckless. This fight had deviated from ordinary training duel into something closer to real combat against an enemy.
The instructor watched, one hand slowly moving to the sword hilt at his waist. But he didn’t intervene immediately, instead quietly observing the developments.
It was rare to see such a thrilling match—why rush to stop it? Like a lion pride, there had to be a strongest one. Forcing it down held no meaning.
“Shh——”
The sword blade slashed across Mike’s training leather armor, tearing a long gash and even drawing blood.
After being injured, Mike didn’t pause at all. Seizing the brief opening from the opponent’s hit, he kicked fiercely at Suolin’s waist, making him grunt in pain.
After that, the two clashed again, with sword technique and power contest reaching a fever pitch. At this point, the subtle gap began to show.
Perhaps Mike’s current sword technique was indeed slightly stronger than Suolin’s. In the intense exchange of wounds, he sustained fewer and shallower injuries, while Suolin began showing fatigue.
Using abilities came at a cost. He was simultaneously activating breathing technique and power burst, already under greater strain than Mike. Moreover, his breathing technique was only at the second stage, not as enduring and coordinated as Mike’s third stage. After a few minutes of clash, this gap emerged.
Then, Suolin’s stamina dropped rapidly, his power gradually unable to suppress Mike, and he was overtaken in all aspects step by step—until finally, Mike struck heavily to knock his weapon flying, then kicked him off the stage rolling.
“Huff——huff——”
Mike thrust his sword into the ground, taking deep breaths in big gulps. His forehead and back were covered in sweat, his leather armor torn and disheveled, exposing sturdy muscles with some sticky blood slowly trickling down, mixing with the sweat.
Very tired, very painful, but also very satisfying.
The past sweat and efforts had paid off. The pent-up frustration was released, leaving him refreshed and eager to roar.
Applause came from all directions at that moment. Everyone looked at Mike on the stage, clapping in deep admiration.
Both sides in this match had given their all, letting the on-site students see the true gap between themselves and these two on stage. Their complete mastery of techniques, refinement of power and speed—none of it was comparable to half-baked efforts.
Suolin had indeed lost, but it wasn’t shameful. The other students wouldn’t think they could perform better than him.
“Good, very good, you two.” The instructor walked over, helped Suolin up from the ground, and praised loudly.
“Finally showing some warrior temperament, heh.” He supported Suolin onto the stage, his iron-like arm pulling the two together, then burst into laughter.
After all, they were both trained by him—how could he not be proud?
“Training ends here today. You two, come with me. I’ll apply medicine for you and go over some areas for improvement from that match.”
“Yes, instructor.” The two were gradually coming down from that blood-pumped state, returning to normal.
“Now those two are stealing the show.” Komiya propped her chin with her hand and turned to the maiden beside her.
“If you went up, Tiya, wouldn’t it scare everyone?”
“How could that be? I haven’t advanced yet.” The maiden brushed back the stray hair by her ear with one hand, shaking her head with a beaming smile.
Still, seeing the companion she tutored achieve such progress made her very pleased and happy.
After all, it was a return on her efforts too.
She needed to step it up herself. Madam Fran should be back soon, right?
