Chapter 60 What is going on?
Edith still stepped on the sword.
There was no other meaning, it was simply muscle memory, he stepped on the opponent's sword subconsciously when he saw it fall to the ground. But in Kingsley's eyes, this was naked humiliation.
What's more, he borrowed the sword from someone else - he didn't dare to imagine what the audience standing in the audience felt at this moment.
Stepping on the sword not only means that the opponent loses the ability to compete, but also means that even if the opponent wants to draw the sword to fight back, he must squat or kneel down. Kingsley seemed to hear the whispers from the audience, and the scene after he lost emerged in his mind.
Laughing, talking behind your back, no longer being noticed...
no!
He burst forward, leaning to avoid Edith's attack, lowering his body, twisting his wrist as he slid to the right, and grasping the hilt.
"bass--"
The sword was drawn out of the scabbard, a sharp light flashed across Edith's eyes, and she subconsciously loosened her feet to dodge.
"Shame on you! You said you wouldn't use a blade!" Heda yelled the moment he saw the light, and his voice was particularly loud in the silent crowd. "What's the point of drawing a sword?"
"Edith stepped on the scabbard and he couldn't pull it out. It wasn't intentional." Someone subconsciously refuted, but unexpectedly, Edith jumped away the next second and kicked the scabbard in the opposite direction.
The two men were in opposition again. The scabbard fell quietly at Kingsley's feet, and was kicked away by him without even a glance.
Those who defended Kingsley: "..."
Heda replied lightly: "I didn't step on it this time."
Kingsley really doesn't care about anything now just to win.
No matter whether it is justified or not, as long as you win, there is still room for excuses.
The series of awkward movements just now can be explained as teaching. The teacher even deliberately demonstrated wrong movements in class, so his level of relaxation is also normal.
"I apologize. I really underestimated your ability." He took this opportunity to stop the fighting and bowed. Then he shrugged casually. "Next, I will adjust the tactics according to your specific strength. By the way, there are too many patterns on the scabbard, and the sweeping range is too large. In order to avoid hurting you, I will directly use the whole sword next time."
He grinned, his eyes full of tenderness: "Don't worry, my back blade is facing outwards, I won't hurt you."
Edith: “…”
Does anyone really believe this reason?
It turns out that there are, but clearly not as many as originally thought.
Many people standing in the back of the audience breathed a sigh of relief after hearing this. Kingsley was indeed still the same Kingsley, gentle, reliable, and strong - and he didn't even put on airs of a senior even towards the first-year students.
They applauded and even surged forward, trying to get a glimpse of it.
As for the audience standing in front and watching the entire game: "..."
Really?
Was it really because he held back on his beating that he rolled on the ground like a potato?
This match was not as thrilling as previous fights. On the contrary, it was frustrating and awkward to watch, especially when they thought of their previous cheering and cheering. This group of people wished they could find a place to hide.
Just then, the people behind them were moving forward in a hurry. They just followed the crowd and squeezed back, successfully leaving the first-person perspective. They stood on the stage where no one could see them and breathed a sigh of relief.
"...What's wrong with Kingsley?" Someone asked weakly, "He doesn't look very well today?"
"Maybe you're not feeling well."
"I took the exam yesterday, so maybe I was exhausted."
"Yes, yes, yes. Reviewing too late will make you weak and naturally feel uncomfortable."
“Do his grades look like he worked hard?”
“…”
Good question.
When a person is over-deified, his other shortcomings will be like stars in the daytime, covered by the sun and can't be seen clearly. But Edith pushed a dark cloud to cover the sun, and Kingsley's shortcomings suddenly fell like dense raindrops.
If you think about it, he is just an ordinary guy who is good at swordsmanship.
Someone tentatively said, "Actually, if you think about it, Kingsley hasn't had a proper fight with anyone in nearly a year."
"Right, right, right. It was all coaching. The opponent had to listen to his instructions every time he made a move. It wasn't coherent at all."
"Besides, since the beginning of this semester, he has hardly come to the practice field." The boy in the corner raised his hand silently, "He only comes to give instructions. I've never seen him practice alone."
"so……"
"Do you feel..."
"Kingsley used to be quite strong but now he's getting worse because he doesn't practice." Heda suddenly appeared and spoke a string of words like a string of pearls. "His swordsmanship now is actually very average."
Everyone was startled by the sudden sound.
"Damn it, when did you come!" the girl on the left cursed. But Heda's words really entered everyone's mind. Everyone was silent for a moment, and suddenly it seemed as if the barrier in their throats was cleared, and one by one they picked up the conversation.
"What he taught me last month was of no use at all. I ended up hurting my hand after practicing for two days." Someone said, shrinking his neck.
"Actually, I also..."
The girl sighed, "He asked me to practice more sword spinning, but I use a heavy sword, and this tactic used for light swords is not suitable for me at all."
"Me too. I didn't dare to say it before because I was afraid of being scolded for 'not making progress because you're not working hard enough'. It turns out that the advice Kingsley gave me was not correct at all."
The back row was murmuring, and the sound gradually expanded, attracting many people to join the crusade. But the sound here could not reach the front row for the time being.
The match between Edith and Kingsley continued, and the fanatical supporters in the front row were staring at every move on the stage.
"I refuse to take a break." Edith also learned Kingsley's tricks and explained considerately, "Your time is precious. I still have to teach other students swordsmanship later. I won't waste your time."
Kingsley forced a smile: "Don't worry about me, your feelings are the most important."
Damn it, the halftime break was because he needed to heal his injuries! Now he had a strained arm and a few scratches on his legs that were constantly transmitting pain to his brain. He was completely different from Edith, who was in good spirits.
He finally dawdled until the intermission, walked off the stage, and pretended to accidentally rub his wound in front of his classmates, who invited him to heal his wound.
His ability in spells was not enough for him to perform quick healing, and asking for help directly was too embarrassing, so he could only seduce in this way.
"All right." The student who helped with the treatment put down his wand, panting. The healing spell was not too difficult, but if you want to compress the effect time to within a few minutes, the magic power consumed will increase several times.
Kingsley had long lost his patience. Edith stretched on the stage without stopping, which made her rest seem undignified. He seemed to hear some mutterings behind him, and when he looked up, he was surprised to find that the number of people watching had nearly tripled since the beginning.
Why are there so many people!
Most people were attracted by the noise. The whole school was on holiday, and everyone was bored. When they found out there was a game to watch, they rushed out immediately.
Kingsley was suddenly overwhelmed by the pressure.
So when his classmate let go, he immediately pulled his arm back and jumped back to the ring like a fly, without even having time to say "thank you". The exhausted classmate was about to say "you're welcome", but he swallowed it back.
Why no thanks?
He frowned, feeling a thorn in his heart.
Kingsley stood on the stage, and the audience in the distance who were unaware of what was happening cheered when they saw a familiar face, adding a bit of atmosphere to the competition.
"Let's get started." With his body feeling comfortable, his sword unsheathed, and the encouragement loud, Kingsley became confident again. He wiped his hair and said, "No more instructions this time. Just fight seriously."
Edith raised an eyebrow: "No more guidance?"
Kingsley suddenly had a bad feeling in his heart.
"Begin!" The teacher had no ability to read people's minds, and he announced with a stern face that the game would continue. This time Kingsley learned his lesson and squatted down at the beginning, hoping to use his speed to dodge Edith's fastest opening attack.
Then he ran forward, supported himself with his hands and turned around—
——Why is it empty?
Kingsley looked in astonishment at the direction where the sword was pointing. There was no one there, and there was no Edith crying and begging for mercy as he had imagined.
At this moment, a cold spike pressed against his neck.
"Who said I was going to replicate the moves from the last game?"
A devilish voice sounded in his ears. Kingsley glanced at the audience in horror and found that everyone seemed to be hesitant to speak.
"Why is he doing this? Summoning a demon?" a passerby who knew little about Kingsley complained.
In her view, Edith did not move after she started giving the command, while Kingsley suddenly squatted down, turned around gorgeously, and then stood up as if he was acting in a drama. His movements were sharp and the overall flow was pleasing to the eye.
——If we ignore the air enemies he is fighting against.
Edith slowly stepped forward when the other man stood up and put the stick on the boy's neck.
Kingsley reacted this time, leaping forward, turning and swinging his sword, the metal scraping against the magic-reinforced stick, finally getting the better of him, chipping off a few wood chips.
The cheering people in the audience realized something was wrong. Why would a normal sparring match involve one wooden sword and one iron sword?
"It's not fair to the students with wooden swords." Someone said subconsciously, "They were immediately destroyed after being chopped down by the iron swords in two hits."
But Edith was not as bad as passers-by thought.
She pulled back in time, making Kingsley's second strike miss, and took advantage of the opponent's downward strike to stab upward. Kingsley tilted his head back to avoid it, and pulled back his sword to try to counterattack, but Edith turned her wrist and cut his hair rope.
The half-long hair slid down, and as Kingsley pulled his body back, it spread forward and blurred in front of his eyes. Edith kept her back foot still, and slowly pulled her body back with her front foot, leaving room for her arms to stretch out. She held the bottom with her palm in a semicircular shape, and pushed forward flatly.
Kingsley, who had lost his vision, was unable to move his head away instinctively this time. All this happened in a flash. The darkness in front of him suddenly broke into a gap, and the halo pierced in from the gap, bringing in a gradually expanding circle.
——It’s not round, it’s pointed.
Kingsley's pupils suddenly contracted, but the sharp wooden thorn had already pierced his forehead. The first thing that came into his brain was a sharp pain, followed by the teacher's sharp whistle: "End the game, end the game!"
The world fell into darkness.
"I was afraid of this, so I chose a wooden stick specially! It's not very sharp, he was just scared!" Edith didn't expect that the man would fall down with just one blow, so she quickly explained. The teacher looked at the not-so-thick wooden stick in her hand, at Edith who was jumping around, and then at the unconscious man and the sharp rapier in his hand, and couldn't help but cover her forehead.
What is going on?
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