Chapter 5: Bloody Fight Without Retreat

Staring in astonishment at Wang Yu, Obi-Wan was completely unable to process what had just transpired.

The wretched old mage had been slain in a heartbeat, and the squire who should have been locked in the dungeon was standing right before him, issuing a challenge to a knightly duel.

Yet, who could explain why this fellow was now standing in his presence, demanding a trial of arms?

It all happened too fast—so fast that even this bandit leader, who prided himself on his vast experience and worldly knowledge, could not react.

However, seeing that Wang Yu did not immediately attack after raising his sword in salute, Obi-Wan quickly accepted the impossible situation.

A hideous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he spoke in a dry, raspy voice.

"Look, there is no reason for us to come to blows, is there? How about this: I let you go, throw in some coin, and we call our accounts settled."

"No. Only one of us leaves here alive today, or perhaps, we both die here," Wang Yu refused with absolute finality.

"Do not evade, coward. Face me in a proper duel; whether I die or you die, our business will be settled naturally."

Sword raised and shield held, Wang Yu was fully prepared for the fray.

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan’s innate caution prevented him from engaging Wang Yu so recklessly.

Perverts who disregard the lives of others are often, in many ways, more afraid of death than the average man.

If one does not value certain aspects of life, then taking the life of another brings no true pleasure.

"Very well, very well..." Obi-Wan waved his hands, feigning a look of helplessness. "Then, my knight, allow me to prepare myself."

He gestured for Wang Yu to perform his own pre-duel rituals.

Wang Yu remained cold and silent, neither agreeing nor speaking a word.

This placed immense pressure on Obi-Wan; cold sweat dripped from his forehead, accidentally slipping into his eyes and stinging with a sharp, sour ache.

Blinking hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, Obi-Wan suddenly roared, "Attention! Enemy attack! Central manor, assemble!"

"Sigh, I knew it," Wang Yu shook his head with feigned resignation. "How could a despicable man like you ever fight me with honor? In the end, you still resort to such disgusting tricks?"

As Obi-Wan’s roar echoed through the room and drifted out into the distance, no one answered his call.

His expression turned even uglier; what on earth had this squire done?

His men should have rushed to his side the moment they heard the signal, yet now, no one was approaching.

He glared at Wang Yu with a savage look, as if demanding an explanation for why his men remained silent.

But Wang Yu had no habit of responding to enemies; he simply maintained his stance, ready to strike, without a word.

"Fine, fine. I don't know what you did, but it seems I have no choice but to fight you myself..."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, driven into a corner and forced to make the most reluctant choice: a head-on confrontation.

If he had his way, he would never choose to face an opponent directly.

"Then, let the duel beg—" Obi-Wan began the traditional declaration.

But before he could finish, he ducked low and lunged toward Wang Yu’s shield side, his blade sweeping toward the wrist holding the shield.

Wang Yu seemed to have anticipated the treachery; his eyes narrowed, confirming his suspicions.

A common bandit would have charged head-on or attacked the side without the shield.

But Obi-Wan had gone straight for the shield, proving he had been systematically trained in fighting shielded opponents.

And as far as Wang Yu knew, the only places to learn such things were a few select fighting pits, or the military.

"This guy really is a deserter. That explains the previous layout; he must have had formal training..."

Wang Yu’s thoughts raced, using the military sword techniques taught by the old knight to predict Obi-Wan’s moves.

Obi-Wan had chosen to attack the side that was blocked by the shield but lacked flexibility, making it difficult to strike back with the weapon hand.

So...

Obi-Wan sprinted, his 1.2x human-limit physical prowess allowing him to reach Wang Yu in a single bound.

The longsword thrust toward Wang Yu’s wrist; if he couldn't break the shield, he would make it impossible to hold.

The blade flashed like a white streak, inches from Wang Yu’s left wrist.

But faster still was Wang Yu’s withdrawal; he abandoned the shield, pulling his left hand back. The shield clattered to the floor, and Obi-Wan’s lightning-fast strike hit nothing but air.

The sheer momentum prevented him from pulling back, and his body lurched forward uncontrollably.

Now! Wang Yu seized the moment of hesitation and kicked the falling shield.

"Bang!" A violent explosion of sound erupted, accompanied by the sharp pain in Wang Yu’s foot.

Struck with immense force, the shield slammed into Obi-Wan’s chest. It was a vicious blow; caught off guard, Obi-Wan took the hit, and a sickening crack echoed—something had surely broken.

Obi-Wan gasped for air, nearly winded by the impact. Seizing the opening, Wang Yu surged forward, his sword carving an arc through the air.

Basic Sword Style: Charged Sweep! The blade whistled with a piercing sound, aiming for the shoulder on Obi-Wan’s non-sword side.

The sequence was rapid, but Obi-Wan scrambled to twist and duck, angling his sword upward to meet the sweep.

With a desperate effort, he succeeded. The blades collided with a shower of sparks. "Clang!" The vibration set both swords trembling.

He had blocked it. Wang Yu offered a wry, helpless smile.

Obi-Wan, however, looked surprised, followed quickly by a mask of fury and resentment.

Too light. It shouldn't have been like this. It was a surprise attack, and he had been caught off guard, but the force... this was definitely not the strength of a mere squire.

Wait, that fellow—wasn't he just a squire?

Damn it, he had actually been intimidated by this squire.

He was an apprentice knight, and Wang Yu was only a squire. The difference between a 1.2 coefficient and a 0.8 was a full 0.4.

It was a total gap in strength, speed, defense, and even reaction time; Obi-Wan should have crushed him.

Yet, laughably, he had been spooked by the strange behavior of this bluffer, filling Obi-Wan with humiliation and rage.

"Damn you, you wretched thing, how dare you toy with me..."

Glaring viciously at Wang Yu, who stood without his shield, sword in his right hand, Obi-Wan’s face was twisted with malice. His sword swung aimlessly, as if he were about to lop off Wang Yu’s head in the next second.

Maintaining a stoic expression, Wang Yu showed no fear or hesitation, which only infuriated Obi-Wan further.

"Die." A step forward, a thrust—a standard move, Military Sword Technique: Side Upward Slash.

Obi-Wan’s swordsmanship was surprisingly high-level. Backed by his apprentice knight physique, the strike was swift and fierce.

Though Wang Yu had been vigilant, the gap in speed and strength made even his desperate parry feel incredibly taxing.

The immense force traveled down the blade, nearly knocking the sword from Wang Yu’s grip, forcing him to retreat to dissipate the energy, allowing Obi-Wan to press his advantage.

Grinning savagely, Obi-Wan followed the upward slash with a vertical chop aimed straight at Wang Yu’s head.

Unable to match the power, Wang Yu slid sideways in a clumsy dodge, but speed remained a critical issue.

The blade descended, blood spraying as a large chunk of Wang Yu’s ear was sliced away, and Obi-Wan pressed in again.

The swordplay was like a tide—not a continuous, flowing wave, but a chaotic, overwhelming barrage.

Relying on his superior speed, strength, and stamina, Obi-Wan suppressed Wang Yu, leaving him unable to do anything but dodge and parry, let alone counterattack.

Technique? He had it—the simplest of military sword arts.

Not to mention that Wang Yu had only been practicing for half a year, less time than Obi-Wan, leaving him inferior in swordsmanship.

His physical attributes, such as strength, were also suppressed, leaving him with no advantage whatsoever.

Under this brutal onslaught, Wang Yu stumbled, his body accumulating wounds from every misstep and unavoidable strike.

Blood dripped onto the ground, pooling into small rivers, yet his expression remained stern, unshaken.

In the next moment, Obi-Wan delivered an upward strike, forcing Wang Yu’s blade aside with sheer strength before swinging his arm back to thrust his sword directly at Wang Yu’s chest.

A triumphant smile played on his lips; having parried Wang Yu’s blade, he knew there was no way for his opponent to dodge or block.

But then, Obi-Wan’s pupils contracted, and he forcibly halted his momentum; Wang Yu had neither dodged nor blocked, but had mirrored his stance, thrusting his own sword toward Obi-Wan’s chest.

Undoubtedly, he would pierce Wang Yu’s heart, but in the next instant, the blade would likewise run through his own body.

Breaking into a cold sweat, Obi-Wan stumbled back, his body trembling involuntarily, followed by a surge of even fiercer rage.

"Damn you, you lunatic!!!" he roared at Wang Yu, his fury at the man’s madness mingled with a deep, chilling dread.

"..." Remaining silent, Wang Yu offered no response, gripping his sword to launch a counterattack against Obi-Wan.

Yet there was no fundamental difference; Obi-Wan’s superior physique allowed him to either dodge or easily parry Wang Yu’s strikes.

Wang Yu, however, was forced to evade and block repeatedly, unable to pose any real threat to his opponent.

As time wore on, Wang Yu did not fall quickly, his only advantage being his sheer will to fight.

Obi-Wan did not want to die, nor did he dare to, but Wang Yu was indifferent; he never had to consider defense in his attacks.

Obi-Wan could not afford the same; even if he found an opening to deliver a killing blow, the consequence would likely be a fatal wound in return.

In an era where medical care was primitive, a grievous injury often meant death or lifelong disability.

Growing increasingly irritated, Obi-Wan did not lose his composure; their blades clashed in the air, emitting metallic shrieks, though one side was clearly failing, retreating and dodging while the other pressed the assault.

Yet every time he sought to end the life of his opponent, the madness of the weaker man in the face of death forced him to retreat.

This seemingly fragile duel reached a bizarre equilibrium, but Obi-Wan’s stamina was ultimately superior to Wang Yu’s.

Obi-Wan changed his strategy; he was no fool, and he understood that his strength lay in his physical superiority.

He no longer rushed for the kill, but began to whittle Wang Yu down, letting him bleed and lose his capacity to fight in the grueling exchange.

The reality unfolded as he expected; Wang Yu began to breathe heavily, and Obi-Wan’s attacks shifted to a war of attrition.

A blade a fraction faster than his own seized every mistake, carving bloody gashes into his flesh before retreating.

The dripping blood represented Wang Yu’s waning strength, a process accelerated by the high-intensity combat.

Dark spots began to cloud his vision, which swayed and blurred—the result of blood loss and cerebral ischemia.

He could rely on his will to endure, but once that will could no longer support his shattered frame, he would lose all power and be unable to fight.

Wang Yu’s resolute face remained without a ripple.

As the battle progressed, Obi-Wan, who had the leisure to observe, began to notice Wang Yu’s small habits.

When forced to retreat after a heavy blow, Wang Yu would instinctively wave his left hand to maintain balance, leaving it defenseless.

Noticing this, Obi-Wan devised a plan: if he could sever that left hand, the increased blood loss would render Wang Yu unable to threaten him further.

Action followed thought; after parrying Wang Yu’s blade once more, Obi-Wan did not rush, but took a deep breath, roared, and channeled his strength, his sword accelerating as it struck Wang Yu’s defensive blade.

The increased speed made the trajectory impossible to avoid, and the terrifying force sent Wang Yu stumbling backward.

This time, it was not a tactical retreat, but a desperate struggle to stay upright.

Having cleared the way, Obi-Wan unleashed his power for the first time; the undeveloped, meager battle aura of a novice knight surged from his core, flowing through his limbs—a basic technique of continuous force.

Before one strike ended, another began!

Obi-Wan had already committed his full strength, but with his aura circulating, his muscles tightened again for a follow-up.

The sword descended in a vertical arc at even greater speed; "Squelch," blood sprayed out...

The blade severed Wang Yu’s left hand without resistance, the wrist cut clean through, blood gushing from the stump, the exposed bone and flesh a horrific sight.

The hand flew off and landed in the filthy dust, a pathetic, tragic sight.

For the first time, Obi-Wan saw shock on Wang Yu’s face, which filled him with uncontrollable joy and excitement.

This expressionless man who had caused him such frustration was human after all, with weaknesses; even this damned lunatic could feel shock and fear!

A savage grin spread across Obi-Wan’s face; he was obsessed with the feeling of driving others to despair, and breaking the man who had frustrated him was a supreme pleasure.

"Pfft!" Meeting Obi-Wan’s delight was Wang Yu’s cold expression returning; the hellish man was not shaken by the pain or the wound.

He wanted Obi-Wan’s euphoria, his momentary lapse in focus; that split second of excitement was enough to bridge the chasm of physical difference, at least in terms of speed.

The moment Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in shock and terror, he was met with the bloody stump of Wang Yu’s left arm.

Wang Yu seized the moment of distraction, his exhausted body erupting with peak speed as he slammed the stump into Obi-Wan’s face.

Blinded by blood! Obi-Wan could see nothing, and he kicked out in panic.

To his delight, he struck something; "Bang," a body collapsed to the ground.

Obi-Wan, unharmed but blinded by gore, grew furious again... this man, time and again, he would make him die, absolutely... since he hadn't killed him with that kick, he would never let him rise again, let him die there!

He blinked hard, clearing the red from his eyes with tears, and the blurred figure on the ground finally came into focus; the sword lay aside, the wrist still bleeding, looking utterly pathetic. He raised his blade, "Die..."

Then, a subtle sound of air being torn apart rang out—the whistle of a crossbow bolt!

A duel? Fairness? Really? Wang Yu would never believe in such things...