First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 136

Chapter 136: Swordsmanship

Lian Sheng didn't pay much attention to the outer circles of the selection competition, so she wasn't aware.

For a grand event of this scale with such forward-looking significance, from the very beginning, there would be people meticulously analyzing the situations of various seeded contestants, investigating all collectible data, and making conjectures and discussions.

These individuals were highly likely to become the future true mech pilots. If they performed well, they might even become the new generation's representative figures of the Expeditionary Force.

After all, there was no position more conducive to earning military merits than that of a mech pilot.

In this competition, Ji Ban undoubtedly emerged as a dark horse. But what surprised people most was his manual operation of mechs, and the military school he attended was just an obscure nominal institution, destined not to take him far.

Though explosively topical, if he didn't appear on the field, he would quickly fade from memory over time.

Just as everyone was expressing regret over his departure from the selection competition, the match between Lian Sheng and Yan Shuo arrived.

The spectators were electrified. Both were contestants who had been closely watched before the competition began, and both were rare command department specialists in the selection competition.

Lian Sheng was already very familiar to them. Whether it was the promotional videos of ancient martial arts or her previous command duel against Xia Yanfeng, her reputation had already been established in the student military circle as a top-tier figure.

As for Yan Shuo, he was a student heavily promoted by the National Defense University. The National Defense University was ambitious this year, fielding a lineup that could be described as luxurious, even going so far as to have senior students repeat a year to form the most formidable finals team. Yan Shuo was the core of this team.

Unfortunately, he emerged too late. His two most important selling points—command and classical martial arts—had already been preempted by Lian Sheng when they began their promotion, causing his brilliance to dim, giving instead the feeling of being Lian Sheng's foil.

The National Defense University naturally felt this was a great pity, but Yan Shuo's target had always been seeded contestants like Zhao Zhuoluo who had risen through sheer strength.

In short, this match was absolutely packed with highlights.

Eastern ancient martial arts versus Western swordsmanship. A command duel in individual combat.

Whoever lost would create a sensation—was there any system more adept at coincidences than this?

However, Lian Sheng was currently lying in bed taking an afternoon nap, completely unaware of their excitement. When Zhou Shirui called, she still didn't feel anything particularly special.

A competition—it didn't matter who the opponent was. In any case, the goal was always to strive for victory.

After Zhou Shirui spoke at length, all he got in response were noncommittal "uh-huhs" from the other end, and only then did he remember that Lian Sheng might not have the slightest clue about the subtleties involved.

So he directly sent the previously stored materials to her via optical computer.

Zhou Shirui said, "Take a quick look at his stuff. It's completely different from yours. Your previous combat footage is all over the internet—they've probably already studied you. This puts you at a disadvantage."

After a pause, Zhou Shirui asked, "Do you know what Western swordsmanship is?"

"I consider myself quite knowledgeable about swords," Lian Sheng said. "But I've never heard of any so-called Western schools."

Zhou Shirui: "..."

Her flamboyance was enough to make her a school of her own.

Both Eastern ancient martial arts and Western swordsmanship had declined over time in their development. Mentioning them now only evoked a vague impression, a general outline.

They didn't know that within ancient martial arts alone, there were hundreds of weapons, and for each weapon, there were hundreds of schools. It was impossible to describe them all with just one simple combat style.

As for Western swordsmanship, there were single-handed swords, double-handed swords, short swords, rapiers, longswords, greatswords, broadswords, slender blades, and so on.

Weapons evolved with the times, and techniques evolved with the weapons.

Weapons encapsulated the soul of an era—they were a microcosm of humanity's past.

The current problem was that Lian Sheng didn't understand the soul of Westerners.

There was bound to be some chasmic misunderstanding in between.

Lian Sheng slumped her shoulders and carefully watched several of Yan Shuo's duel videos. They were indeed moves she had never seen before.

A completely different combat style from hers, yet equally distinctive. Too unfamiliar—she couldn't quite grasp the underlying patterns.

Lian Sheng paused the video, zoomed in on the image, and examined it closely.

His sword was completely different from standard mech sidearms. The blade was slender, the base diamond-shaped—not a flat, thin blade. Both edges seemed unsharpened, the tip tapered to a sharp point at an angle sufficient to pierce defenses.

Light, slender, agile, and mesmerizing.

From what she saw of his attack patterns, he mostly used thrusts instead of slashes.

It seemed this was a specially crafted blade for the selection competition, simulated with data.

As for Lian Sheng's own sword...

For the first time, she felt she had been too careless.

Zhou Shirui asked over the call, "How is it?"

"What kind of weapon is this? Why is the hilt shaped like this?" Lian Sheng said. "How is the edge made? It looks like the back isn't sharpened. Like the tip of a spear? No... not that either. But is this really a sword?"

Zhou Shirui: "...I can't really explain that, but it is indeed a sword. Western swords are characterized by agility and speed, with resilient blades primarily used for thrusting attacks."

Lian Sheng rubbed her chin. "Understood."

Zhou Shirui: "You have three hours to prepare."

Lian Sheng: "Got it."

Mastering Western swordsmanship in just a few hours? Impossible.

Regardless of the type of martial arts, one needed to personally engage in combat, observe how it responded to one's own moves, sense the power and intent behind its attacks, and only then could one comprehend the true essence within its techniques.

No one would replicate the exact same moves as you, nor would the opponent allow you to copy any previous match.

Lian Sheng watched a few more times, then got up to freshen up. After showering, she headed to the military academy's training room.

She waited at the entrance until fifteen minutes before the match, when entry was permitted.

After identity verification, she was led under supervision to a sensor, connected, logged in, and confirmed online.

Lian Sheng and her Pojun were teleported to a transitional map, waiting for the opponent to confirm before both were transferred to the duel map.

This match had many spectators. The five-digit number of visitors in the upper right corner proved as much. And it was still increasing, showing signs of breaking into six digits.

The selection competition was only in the first half of the preliminary rounds, yet it had already attracted so many people. Lian Sheng's previous matches had never exceeded a thousand viewers.

Numbers like these could easily make one nervous if they didn't have strong mental fortitude.

Lian Sheng merely glanced at them before looking away.

Their duel map was: Dusk - Path of Decisive Battle.

This was the head of a straight, broad ancient-style street. The hues of dusk spilled from above, lanterns hanging beneath taverns swayed gently in the wind, and the mechs cast long shadows on the gray-white ground.

Though it was quite atmospheric, when two towering mechs stood opposite each other in this setting, the only feeling it evoked was one of stark incongruity.

The mech selection competition primarily assessed individual combat prowess. The maps varied, but to ensure fairness across matches, the basic parameters of each map were identical.

The maps weren't very large, with straight, intersecting pathways of uniform width and length. Obstacles were generally no taller than four meters, some of which could be shot or destroyed.

The two met directly on the central path, standing opposite each other, yet neither made the first move.

The opposing mech was a black heavy-armored mech—Liba.

High power, strong defense, but somewhat cumbersome. Lian Sheng hadn't seen many of these.

Yan Shuo looked at her and said, "Hello."

Then he drew a sword from his shoulder. With a flourish, he held it diagonally before his chest.

This was different from what Lian Sheng had seen before. The blade was longer and thinner, somewhat resembling a single-edged sword.

But it looked more like a proper sword than the previous one.

Lian Sheng glanced at it and asked, "You changed swords?"

"You've watched my matches?" Yan Shuo laughed on the other side. "Sorry, seems like you prepared for nothing."

Though she couldn't see his face, his slight turn as he spoke, coupled with the lighthearted tone in his voice, allowed Lian Sheng to imagine his current proud expression.

Lian Sheng said, "It's fine. I didn't prepare much anyway. I watched a few hours ago but didn't study deeply, so it's not much of a loss."

Yan Shuo: "..."

Yan Shuo: "..."

Yan Shuo: "..."

Yan Shuo: "..."

Yan Shuo: "..."

Lian Sheng asked, "What kind of sword is this?"

"One and a half sword. Created by German swordmaster Johannes Liechtenauer." Yan Shuo straightened the sword, stepped forward into a lunge, lowered his center of gravity, extended his arm to point forward, and assumed a starting stance. "Care to try?"

Lian Sheng said, "If I say no, will you surrender?"

Yan Shuo, repeatedly rebuffed, was somewhat speechless. The spectators felt the same.

"Pre-duel banter? So intense?"

"Banter my foot? Clearly, they just can't communicate."

"If they can't communicate, why force it? Just fight—no need for conversation."

"Communication has a chance of creating mutual appreciation, you know?"

Zhou Shirui and the others watched the match, frowning slightly.

They actually deliberately concealed information and held back. So, what should Lian Sheng do now?

Lian Sheng took two steps forward. Yan Shuo grew wary. But Lian Sheng stopped again and asked, "If I don't move, will you also stay still? Maintaining this starting stance?"

He felt that continuing to stall with this person would likely lead to his death from frustration. Directly adjusting his footing, he maintained his height and thrust forward.

Lian Sheng quickly retreated, her gaze fixed on his weapon. Watching the tip of his sword draw nearer, aiming for Pojun's vulnerable abdomen.

Indeed, the attack was extremely fast. But...

So long!

Lian Sheng once again felt the disparity in visual distance.

The mech's arm length, plus the upper body leaning forward, plus the sword's length—all extended, it was much longer than Lian Sheng had anticipated.

Lian Sheng arched her back, activated the thrusters, and quickly propelled herself backward to create distance.

Seeing the pursuit slow and having retreated to a safe distance, a red light flashed at the upper edge of her peripheral vision.

She had always been confident in her ability to distinguish colors and static objects. Without thinking, she raised her left arm to block in front of the cockpit and increased thruster output to retreat at full speed.

Pojun and Liba were fundamentally different. To pursue attack speed and reduce weight, its overall defense was quite weak. The sturdiest part was its left arm—resistant to high-speed impacts, high temperatures, and electric shocks. Nearly indestructible.

Her left arm was her shield.

In that instant, Yan Shuo seized the opportunity during his attack to fire a shot at her vital point.

The blast struck her arm, flared up violently, then quickly dissipated. Pojun's left arm dented from the impact, the wrist area seemingly melted by the heat, with clear concentric marks radiating outward from the point of impact.

Lian Sheng didn't linger—she needed to avoid being pursued while at a disadvantage. While retreating, she began searching for Yan Shuo's figure.

She briefly glanced at her arm.

A combination of cold weapons and hot weapons? That seemed quite impressive.

Mechs couldn't perform close-range, high-destructive explosions because the energy would also impact the mech itself, essentially resulting in mutual destruction.

Using the sword's length to first expand the attack range, then when the opponent retreated beyond that range, bringing in hot weapons to achieve full-range attack coverage.

So that was it.

Yan Shuo watched her emerge from the flames, seemingly unharmed.

He hadn't expected to win with a single move, so blocking that shot felt normal. But reacting and countering at such close range wasn't easy either.

Lian Sheng stopped and faced Yan Shuo.

So, how would he handle her attacks?

She took two steps forward, charging rapidly. Raising her sword, she pointed it forward.

The exact same starting stance, the exact same angle, thrusting toward Yan Shuo.

However, as she closed in, she first fired a shot, hoping to force him back and observe flaws in his movement.

Yet, faced with Lian Sheng's attack, Yan Shuo neither dodged nor avoided. Gripping his sword with both hands, he chose to confront it head-on. Deliberately avoiding the blade's tip, he struck Pojun's edge with the middle section of his sword, pressing toward Lian Sheng.

The shot struck his body, light and heat spreading across him before transferring to Pojun.

Startled, Lian Sheng retreated again.

Ah, right—he was a thick-skinned heavy-armored type.

Yan Shuo continued his pursuit, seizing the attack opportunity. As she focused on retreating, he slashed at Pojun's shoulder. But missing the weak point, only a crisp clang rang out.

Yet he didn't pull back, letting the blade slide along the surface toward the mech's joint.

Was he trying to sever Pojun's right forearm?

Lian Sheng twisted her body and delivered a spinning kick, knocking him to the ground.

She used the thrusters' force, yet Liba only staggered before collapsing heavily.

The entire ground shook with a dull thud.

The mass of a heavy-armored mech was truly... something else.

Breaking off the engagement, Lian Sheng didn't immediately leave. She stepped forward, testing with a follow-up attack, only to be deflected again by the base of his sword.

Yan Shuo's mech, though overweight, was remarkably agile. Even while falling, he used his left hand to brace himself, his body already halfway up. His right hand held the sword defensively, always maintaining combat readiness.

Given the choice between a longsword and artillery, she'd pick the longsword. At least that was familiar. So she fearlessly advanced again.

Yan Shuo defended while rising. His mech's weight prevented him from quickly springing up like a carp leaping from water, but his thick, resilient armor could withstand a few stray hits.

Lian Sheng didn't understand Yan Shuo's sword or his school. It was too different from her existing knowledge.

Understanding could only come through combat.

Lian Sheng defended against some attacks while relentlessly pressing forward, prioritizing attack frequency. Even when struck, she chose close combat, aggressively closing the distance.

Yan Shuo frowned slightly.

The initial fervent anticipation he'd felt for her gradually cooled into disappointment.

He admired the strong. Everyone said Lian Sheng was strong, but he didn't see it.

True strength was honed through day after day of monotonous training, year after year of accumulated scars that healed only to form anew. The sword gleamed with brilliance, but the body bore the marks of hardship.

Not through so-called talent, basking in others' praise, effortlessly reaching the pinnacle.

He didn't believe in talent—hadn't for a long time. Only through effort came reward. When you reached greater heights, every shortcut you'd taken would be exposed.

He'd never had much respect for this girl who walked unsteadily and lacked physical stamina.

As expected, Lian Sheng disappointed him.

Her technique wasn't exceptional. Her strength wasn't impressive. Her movements weren't precise.

He despised the weak.

Why was he wasting time here?

A nameless fury rose in Yan Shuo's heart, his expression twisting into something ferocious.

"This is your level? You should just forfeit now!" Yan Shuo barked, slashing down with renewed force.

Lian Sheng's left arm, which had blocked numerous attacks, finally went flying.

As the arm detached amid sparks, the spectators gasped.

They stared at the scene, stunned for a moment, at a loss for words.

"Is it... over?"

"Wasn't the General's long-range combat also formidable? Why insist on close-quarters with a heavy-armored? Is she stupid?"

"Pojun is more agile than heavy-armored—she didn't utilize that at all, just kept charging forward. What was the point?"

"Is Pojun not suited for Lian Sheng?"

"Didn't see any of her usual agility. Did she choose Pojun to apply ancient martial arts? But wanting and suiting are two different things. You don't know if it fits until you try it in combat. And now it's proven unsuitable."

"Kind of disappointing."

"Who recommended Pojun to her? I'd like to beat them up."

"She can switch mechs! Though it might be too late now... Didn't Alliance University's coach give her advice? Just let her go in half-prepared like this?"

"Played too much Sanyao, got carried away. There's always a limit to skill—there are mountains beyond mountains."

"Hey, don't drag all of Sanyao into this! Shameless!"

Yet Lian Sheng stood still. She didn't seem surprised or panicked.

Yan Shuo watched her and tightened his grip on his sword.

Was she too shocked to react, or pretending to be calm?

Lian Sheng suddenly spoke: "Your sword is very long."

Spectators: "..."

As the ancients said, "An inch longer, an inch stronger." Thus, this longsword's offensive power far surpassed that of the mass-produced, nondescript sword Lian Sheng wielded.

More importantly, it likely felt more natural in Yan Shuo's hands. And a weapon that suited its wielder could terrifyingly enhance combat prowess.

Lian Sheng asked curiously, "What school does this belong to?"

"Spanish swordsmanship footwork, Italian swordsmanship tempo, German swordsmanship power." Yan Shuo's tone grew impatient. "Not something you'd know."

Lian Sheng said, "True, I don't know. There's too much I don't know, yet I also know."

"What are you talking about?! Are you deflecting or obfuscating?" Yan Shuo didn't advance to dismantle her mech, opting to spare her dignity. "Just surrender. I don't want to fight you anymore."

"A sword isn't some mystical weapon—it's just an extension of the arm. Using a sword is like using your own body. So all swordsmanship ultimately shares similarities." Lian Sheng raised her hand. "After all, studying the sword is essentially studying people."

Yan Shuo raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"Well, I've already figured you out." Lian Sheng cracked her neck and smiled. "I like it. It's impressive. Interesting."

"Oh?" Yan Shuo knew she wouldn't give up and resumed his stance. "But I don't particularly like you."

Through continuous exchanges, Lian Sheng had used attacks to probe and confirmed two things.

He emphasized footwork.

While standing, he hardly ever stopped. Constantly shifting in small steps to adjust his posture and position, concealing his vulnerabilities.

In martial arts, only speed is invincible. One kind was attack speed, the other was variability—keeping opponents guessing, unable to discern patterns, thus ensuring victory.

Secondly, his attacks were extremely precise. Somehow, every move felt like the result of perfect calculation.

The positions where his sword blocked her attacks showed no variation. Stride length, body height, posture—all maintained at an eerily consistent level. Though his movements appeared fluid and fierce, each technique broken down seemed like a replay.

His sword was likely light at the front, heavy at the back. The tip sharp, the blade thin—for attacking. The base thick, the blade sturdy—for blocking.

Perhaps the term was "lever." Quite similar to the ancient martial arts concept of "using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds."

If Lian Sheng's ancient martial arts embodied free-spirited adaptability, then his Western swordsmanship was rigid adherence to disciplined training.

That Yan Shuo could combine multiple sword styles suggested they shared common ground.

Western swordsmanship strictly emphasized what ancient martial arts also ultimately sought—using force to suppress opponents, gradually drawing them into one's rhythm.

A case of different paths leading to the same destination.

Yan Shuo looked at her in surprise. "You still think you can win?"

"Don't know." Lian Sheng said. "But at least, I don't think I've lost yet."

Yan Shuo: "Then what would count as losing to you?"

Lian Sheng: "What does the system count as losing?"

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