The winter sun gradually rose to the center of the sky. After the snow melted, the black soil on the ground was still a little wet. The final was taking place in the center of the arena.
Tokolin swung his sword with both hands, the ice-blue sword light reflected several afterimages in the air, and slashed towards his opponent. Rock, who was unable to dodge, could only block it with his two swords.
The heavy force was transmitted from the sword to his wrist, and the intersection of the blades produced a slight spark and a sharp friction sound. Tokolin did not sheath the sword, but continued to press forward. Strength was his strong point.
The tilted sword was only 2 inches away from Rock's forehead. Holding two swords was not as easy as holding one sword. As Tokolin advanced, Rock could only retreat step by step.
This couldn't go on. Rock turned around, moved the sword in his hand to the right, and took back one sword and slashed it towards the opponent's wrist.
Seeing this, Tokolin still did not put away his sword and dodge, but instead slashed the sword diagonally upward from the lower right, exchanging injury for victory.
Rock nimbly rolled to the left, his sword only inflicting a shallow wound on the opponent's wrist. Blood began to flow from the wound, staining the cloth wrapped around the hilt red. Seeing Rock tumble to the side, Tokolin didn't pursue the fight, but instead distanced himself and prepared for battle again. Rock was so agile that engaging him in close combat was unwise.
He swung the sword in his hand again, raising it high in the air. The sword body glowed with ice-blue light, and a gust of cold wind blew towards Rock along with the sword, making Rock feel as if his blood was frozen and his body stiffened. Before he could use his magic power to remove this negative effect, Tokolin rushed over again.
clang--
A sword flew directly into the sky with a clear sound of collision. Rock reached out and pulled out the dagger from his boot and rushed directly into Tokolin's arms. The dagger flashed with a cold light of magic. Although it was not sharpened, it still had considerable lethality.
Tokolin stepped heavily on the ground, and sharp ice spikes protruded from the ground, piercing Rock's shoes. The ice spikes shattered, but many of them also pierced into Rock's feet. A biting cold and pain came from his feet, which slowed him down. Tokolin widened the distance again and swept the sword across.
Fuck, this guy has no weaknesses. Rock turned around, picked up the fallen rapier, swung the two swords together, and rushed forward again.
Because of his foot injury, Rock no longer had the agility he had before, and he couldn't fight for a long time. He could only fight quickly and decisively. The bright red magic power began to spread on the sword, and the blood vessels in his body bulged. In the winter, bursts of white steam rose.
The crimson sword shadow clashed rapidly in mid-air with its icy blue counterpart, sparks flying and ice shards occasionally falling, then melting. With the violent collision, cracks began to appear on the already frail rapier, finally breaking with a thud. Rock gripped the remaining sword tightly and continued to flip and strike.
Tokolin held the sword horizontally, an icy blue light flowed, and the cold wind blew back, generating waves of suction, which slowed Rock's figure, and then he swung it down with all his strength.
It was the same move. Rock was surprised and didn't have time to think about it. Just like the last time he fought with Isaiah, he quickly approached and in a flash, the rapier broke into pieces. Then a dagger was placed across Tokolin's collar. A slight blood mark appeared on the opponent's neck, and trickles of blood began to flow down the neck.
"Rock wins, the finals are over!"
The referee immediately called a stop when he saw this, and then asked someone to rescue Tokolin. After all, he was the son of a viscount and a genius, and he couldn't die here so easily.
After a moment of silence, Tokolin slowly put down his sword and stared at Rock with burning eyes, as if he wanted to remember this opponent.
"I'm sorry, I took advantage of you, but I won't give up and relinquish my qualification," Rock thought to himself, staring back without hesitation.
The college competition in Ike City finally ended in a very exciting final. After the competition, Rock noticed the warm cheers from the audience. Some spectators shouted that it was very exciting and worth the trip.
"Rock!"
"Rock!"
"Rock!"
"Rock!"
A group of students gathered around, lifted up the rising star and threw him high into the air, with cheers and celebrations all around. Although Rock usually didn't care about the opinions of people around him, the taste of victory was still so delicious that it made his heart relax, just like the dark clouds that had been suppressed for a long time were pushed away, revealing the beautiful sun and future.
Emenas, the glorious and heroic name, the dream of countless people, will open the door to him today.
In stark contrast to the enthusiastic cheers nearby was another silent young man. Tokolin covered the wound on his wrist and slowly walked into the dark passage, quietly leaving this bustling place that had nothing to do with him.
A shabby carriage was parked outside. The decorations on it were faded, and many of them were mottled and falling off. Tokolin got on the carriage without saying a word.
"Is the young master's wrist okay?" the old coachman asked with concern.
"Well, it's nothing serious. Let's go, Uncle Fitch."
"Okay." The old driver stopped asking questions after seeing this. He knew his young master's temperament. Since his master passed away, he became more and more indifferent and stubborn.
I failed this time, but I'm still young. I'll definitely come back next year. Wait, Rock, I'll beat you again, just like I have countless times before. This time you were just lucky. Tokolin stared out the car window at the arena until it slowly disappeared from view.
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Behind the Burris house, in the woods for training.
"So, this is why you asked me to spar with you for the past month?"
Rock's feet were bandaged. Although it was not noticeable because he was wearing shoes, he still felt pain from time to time.
"Indeed, Tokolin and I once studied under a master of the Wind-Swept Sword sect. He learned this move very quickly and loved it. There's no reason not to use it in battle. I simply familiarized you with it in advance."
Isaiah answered as a matter of course.
"But that's not fair," Rock replied.
"Fairness, what is fairness? There has never been perfect fairness, Rock." Isaiah answered in a rare serious tone.
"Your father is the captain of the guards. You will be exposed to swords from a young age. You will not have to worry about food and clothing, and you will have adequate nutrition. You will have a teacher to guide you when you start, and you will have plenty of time to practice."
"But those children from poor families don't have such conditions. Many of them have never touched a real sword in their entire lives. Not only do they have no teachers to teach them, but they also have to help with housework at home, so they have no time to practice at all."
"Even if you win, it's not fair to them. Why should they allow you to qualify? What kind of result are you pursuing to be considered truly fair?"
"I admit that I'm not as talented as you, but I have a good sister and was born into a better family. I don't reject these things. On the contrary, I will make good use of the conditions I already have."
"I don't think it's simply hard work that made me who I am. There are more complicated reasons behind this, but should I be ashamed? No."
"I will live a good life, and I will work hard to make the lives of those around me better. I want to be a hero and shine a light on everyone around me."
"Instead of dwelling on your narrow sense of fairness."
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