Brando didn't use his sword again. After blocking Boban's sword with Flaming Edge, he used Frost Chant Cinna's Phantom to quickly counter with Cruz's Short Sword Technique. He was very familiar with the swordsmanship passed down by Cruz and Erouine. Although these swordsmanship couldn't be said to be amazing, after the precipitation of history, they became more concise and clear. They were truly practical swordsmanship.
With his understanding of swordsmanship and the Nine Luminaries Sword Technique as a footnote, it was enough to turn something rotten into something magical. After seven consecutive strikes, Boban had no choice but to give up on using Flash Strike Sword Technique because there was still Flaming Edge eyeing him. At this time, Boban's heart sank as he understood that he had lost his last chance.
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang. After seven consecutive strikes, the two swords would cross seven or eight steps in the direction that Boban had retreated. By the seventh strike, there was a complete difference between offense and defense.
At this time, Phoenix Fire could no longer see the exquisiteness of the swordsmanship.
She only felt that Mr. Brando's swordsmanship was just right.
Because it was indeed just right.
Boban's heart was filled with joy. Looking at Brando's sword, his eyes shone with a strange light. Of course, he could recognize that this was the Fast Sword Technique of the Anzeruta region. It was one of the swordsmanship that the locals used in duels.
Only people who were familiar with these two countries, and only people who truly understood swordsmanship, could display this plain and simple swordsmanship to such a level. It wasn't as grand as Flash Strike Sword Technique or Nine Luminaries Sword Technique, but it was just right to be used here.
There was no need to use anything more magnificent.
Swordsmanship was the art of battle. A real battle didn't have any extra burdens.
He had retreated to the limit, and the Phantom's Fast Sword Technique had also reached the limit. This was the limit of human strength, but there were still some things in this world that couldn't be guessed by human strength, and that was the Nine Luminaries Sword Technique.
A miracle witnessed by the Moon of Magic.
A swordsmanship that used magic as its basis.
When Boban finished the last step of the Fast Sword Technique, he saw a bright golden line flash in the darkness. It was a long and narrow sword blade. It was so bright that it seemed to be brighter than his entire life.
His mind was intoxicated, as if he had seen all the truths of the world. If it wasn't for the resolute will of an old soldier that made him wake up at the last moment and shout out that name, he would have died.
This sword not only drew a trail of blood on his shoulder, but also pierced through his neck.
Because it was Flash Strike Sword Art.
It fanatically pursued offensive swordsmanship. Its blade was like a raging inferno, shouting to break free from all the shackles of this world, to pursue blood and victory.
After a long while.
Brando opened his eyes again. The eyeballs wrapped under his eyelids trembled slightly, as if he had just recovered from the dream of the previous battle.
His eyes met Huang Huo's. The little girl bowed to him respectfully, not because of the complicated etiquette of the Nine Phoenix Imperial Family, but because of the respect of a senior.
He looked at Huang Huo's dark hair and realized that not everyone in this world was lucky enough to witness an extreme sword.
Huang Huo could be considered lucky, as this battle would bring her many things. However, her luck did not lie in the fact that she had witnessed two Limiteers fight without holding back. Instead, it lay in the fact that she had enough talent to understand all of this, even though it might take some time.
However, to the Knight, the guards, and Lord Rosaleen who had also witnessed this battle, this battle was indeed exciting, but other than that, it was meaningless.
This was undoubtedly a pity.
These people might never understand what they had missed out on in their entire lives.
He was also lucky.
When he saw Huang Huo's eyes just now and recalled the battle, he realized that there was something more in his heart. Some things on the path of swordsmanship seemed to have suddenly faded to him. The desire for victory and defeat was no longer something that he had originally calculated in his heart.
It had become a pure pursuit and desire. Brando suddenly realized that his fighting talent had begun to evolve from acquired to innate, into something more pure and intuitive.
That kind of thing was not to calculate the gains and losses of each strike, but to know that he wanted to win and how to win. It could not be quantified, nor could it be described with words, but it was an understanding in his heart.
If he were to rehearse the previous battle again at this moment, when Boban used the Mirror of Still Water to suppress him, his first choice might be to strike directly with his sword, instead of cautiously putting away his Lines of Law first.
The former was intuition, the latter was experience.
He relied on his own experience, which was the most valuable asset to him, whether it was his understanding of swordsmanship, his understanding of combat, his understanding of the past history, and his understanding of everything in the Amber Sword game.
They had been his greatest reliance, and also his pride in the world.
He was once afraid that if he lost all of this, or if all of this no longer worked, what would he do?
Now he had the answer.
When Brando opened his eyes, it was as if he saw a smooth path in front of him. The inspiration he gained from the battle with Boban was almost second only to the gains he gained from the battle with his grandfather in the dream.
The former gave him the answer to Brando's life, and the latter gave Brando the answer to his future.
Only victory –
But he was not too surprised in his heart. He was even pleasantly surprised, because he knew that his battle with the Deputy Marshal was not the result of all of this. It should be said that it was just a trigger.
Ever since he had left the Elemental Barrier, or rather, ever since he had battled the Silver Queen and the many Limiteers of the empire, the constant battles and the constant increase in his knowledge had finally allowed him to surpass his past self.
Perhaps his strength was still not enough.
But he understood that it was just an illusion formed by the power of the slate. One day when he had a perfect body again, he would get more than that power.
When he understood this point.
He suddenly felt the Holy Sword Oderfeiss in his hand tremble slightly, as if it was responding to the feelings in his heart. Then, under his astonished gaze, he felt golden lines that spread like flames appear in his mind, and then lines of words appeared on them.
Brando suddenly understood.
That was the Flash Strike Sword Technique.
The complete inheritance of the Flame King Gretel.
It was displayed in front of his eyes.
…
Incirsta and Tarkus stood silently on the messy street. After the Lord of Rosaleen was unconscious, the noisy scene did not affect these two spirits at all.
After witnessing the battle between Boban and Brando, the Knight would not continue to attack the latter even if they used their knees instead of their brains to think. Thus, even though the street was noisy, the chaos mainly revolved around the Lord of Rosaleen. Brando was followed by the captain of the guards, and under the watchful eyes of the two, the others behaved in an 'orderly manner'.
The guy who had cursed out loud earlier had already run off to some unknown place. It seemed that he wanted to shed the skin of a Knight and would never dare to return to this place again.
Incirsta felt that the Earl of Tónigel might not be so petty as to argue with such a guy, but he also understood his thoughts. After all, there were not many people in this world who dared to gamble with their lives.
But among these people who could be called desperadoes, he felt that he should be considered one of the best. Not only did he dare to joke about his' existence '— to the spirits, life was meaningless, only existence had value — he even dared to joke about the head of the supreme ruler of the empire.
If he failed, he would not be the only one to lose his head. His close friend Tarkus' family would be uprooted, and even the kingdom in the darkness that he thought highly of might not be able to recover from this setback.
But there were always lunatics in this world. He was one, Tarkus was one, and he believed that Her Majesty was the same.
He could see the insanity in the depths of her beautiful eyes. She did not come to this world with the Mercury Staff to save Madara, but to satisfy the uncontrollable desire to rule over everything in her heart.
He believed that the Mercury Staff's favour towards him originated from the same madness.
"Because we are dull and monotonous existences, and we know it very well. Although we try our best to avoid seeing it clearly, sometimes we have to admit that time and life have lost their meaning to us. Apart from a few fellows in Wolmin who treat the hundreds of years of boring experiments as fun, most of us are crazy and prone to self-destruction …" Lucien said. He was a little surprised by Lucien's words. Lucien nodded.
"It's just that this kind of destruction is rather special, obscure and difficult to be discovered by others. We wage war, not to fight for survival resources, but simply to prove the existence of the empire."
"Because existence is too heavy for us …"
Incirsta muttered to himself, repeating the words spoken by the Great Lich Ocaso a few hundred years ago. He turned to look at his partner and asked, "What's the matter?"
"I'm thinking, when the two of us made this plan, did we also have such subconscious thoughts in our hearts?"
Tarkus shook his head. He was a serious person, and life was as strict and regular as a wind-up clock to him. There was no meaningful or meaningless dispute. "According to the age of humans, you are only twenty-five years old, and I am two hundred and fifty years old this year. I am in the new generation of vampires. For us, this kind of feeling is inevitably a little sad, and most of it is not from our own feelings."
… …
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