First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 146

Chapter 146: Exposed

Ji Ban's hand was severed, but he didn't seem particularly concerned. Shaking it to adjust the length, he kept asking: "Why was I banned?"

Lian Sheng said exasperatedly: "What do you think?"

"I really don't know," Ji Ban said innocently. "I didn't do anything."

Lian Sheng: "..."

The organizing committee: "..."

The organizing committee: "..."

Lian Sheng looked up and asked: "Why hasn't anyone made him shut up yet?"

They chose silence.

The blatant favoritism was suffocating.

Lian Sheng said: "You're not at a disadvantage here—I am."

After Ji Ban's earlier barrage of high-frequency attacks, his weapon reserves were nearly depleted. Though Lian Sheng had exhausted her cannon rounds, her energy reserves were still ample, and her energy gun had plenty of uses left.

Ji Ban's manual operation placed a heavy burden on him, making prolonged combat difficult. In the later stages, she could have used her energy gun to control his movements, forcibly increasing his strain while looking for openings to strike. That would have been the safest approach.

Now, they had no choice but to engage in direct confrontation.

Of course, for sensor-controlled mechs—especially for Lian Sheng—this also had its advantages.

When it came to combat experience, Ji Ban was no match for the cunning veteran Lian Sheng.

Lian Sheng drew her blade again and charged forward, accelerating straight toward Moshi.

Cornered against a row of storefronts, Ji Ban glanced left and right. Without thermal weapons to clear a path, he couldn't avoid a head-on clash with Pojun.

He braced for defense, waiting for an opportunity.

Moshi blocked again.

But this time, Ji Ban didn't raise his right arm. Instead, he lifted his left first.

Lian Sheng's eyes flicked to his newly regenerated right arm. Just as her blade was about to descend, she forcibly twisted its trajectory, swinging horizontally to the right before redirecting it straight toward his right arm.

Ji Ban was already dodging left. Lian Sheng kept her eyes locked on her target, pressing forward relentlessly, determined to land the hit.

Though she met fierce resistance, the mech's raw power ultimately prevailed—the arm was severed again.

Good. The outer layer of the mech was tough, but newly extended metal was far more fragile.

The freshly reattached arm was cleanly severed once more. Ji Ban shook out another length of metal, then grabbed the end with his left hand and pulled it free.

The socket where the right arm had been now gaped empty before being sealed shut by spring-loaded plates.

The section near the upper arm began to morph after being extracted. The sides pressed together, forming a blade.

That fragile segment was now clutched in his hand. The severed right arm had become his new close-combat weapon.

"I think this works pretty well—waste not, right?"

"Quite the waste. Are you proficient with both hands?"

"Uh..."

"Wait, think about it. Most right-handed people fight with their right and defend with their left, so the arm most likely to get cut off would be the left. So if I yank out the left arm, why would I need to be good with it? That's just showing off, isn't it?"

"Right, right! That makes sense. You almost had me fooled."

"Fooled how? Have you all lost your minds? Sensor mechs come with built-in weapons! If the left arm gets cut off, so be it—keep it as a souvenir if you want. Why go through the trouble of pulling it out? You planning to dual-wield with one hand or something?"

"Ji Ban doesn't have custom close-combat weapons, probably to reduce weight. I think it's great—look at how much ammo he's packing! Why can't sensor mechs learn from this?"

"Learn what? You gonna dismantle your legs, your arms, or your bones? Manual and sensor mechs aren't even comparable. They share some similarities, but you've got to acknowledge their differences!"

The audience devolved into debate over whether this feature could be adapted for sensor mechs, with opinions split and arguments raging.

Meanwhile, Lian Sheng and Ji Ban clashed again.

Their weapons locked at chest height, Lian Sheng scanned his frame for vulnerabilities.

Ji Ban maintained the stalemate with his left arm, then suddenly lifted his right leg and kicked at Lian Sheng.

This biomechanically improbable move was impossible for sensor mechs. But thanks to the mech's unique construction, Ji Ban's input made it happen.

In a normal fight, this would've been impossible to counter. But Lian Sheng's eyes had been tracking his limbs, so she caught the movement instantly. Her foot thrusters flared, propelling her leftward to evade.

Ji Ban reined in the motion, stopping short to avoid overcommitting and sending himself spinning from the recoil.

Manual mechs lacked balance feedback, leaving pilots to compensate on the fly—a common pitfall in combat.

As Ji Ban adjusted, his movements stuttered. Seizing the opening, Lian Sheng slid her blade along his weapon straight to the fragile metal segment at its base.

Activating the force-amplifying energy surge in her weapon, she cleaved through Ji Ban's makeshift blade without hesitation.

Quick as lightning, she stomped on the severed piece and kicked it away.

Ji Ban was now disarmed.

But he carried more than one close-combat weapon. The auxiliary thrusters mounted on his back could also be drawn.

Seeing his weapon destroyed, Ji Ban released his grip and reached for the backup. But Lian Sheng's long blade was already piercing his flank, angling upward to sever his left arm.

He couldn't afford to lose another limb. Abandoning the defense, he input the retreat command. Lian Sheng gave no quarter, leaving him no time for complex maneuvers.

Ji Ban realized then that Lian Sheng was unlike any opponent he'd faced. She matched his speed, refused to be shaken, and attacked with such ferocity that he had no chance to rest or recalibrate.

At this level, weaknesses once obscured now lay bare.

Ji Ban was fast, but his movements lacked structure. His improvisational style, while unpredictable, left him vulnerable when suppressed, with little room to recover.

Patterns existed for a reason. Combat-tested techniques were the most direct, efficient, and powerful.

Ji Ban lacked both patterns and the knowledge to counter them. Trapped in Lian Sheng's onslaught, he found her attacks overwhelming, seamless—no openings to exploit.

His fingers had limits. Forced to track her blade's ever-shifting angles, retreat was his only option.

Ji Ban's expression tightened.

If only he could go faster. But mech acceleration had hard limits. The faster he pushed, the greater the risk.

Undeniably, Moshi was now thoroughly outmatched.

"The pursuer's changed, but how long are they going to keep this up?"

"I beg for mercy—just re-enable thermal weapons. How much longer is this going to take?"

"Where's the thrilling battle? Cat and mouse? Great General, you're just chasing Ji Ban around stabbing at his backside—where's the dignity?"

"Lighting a candle for Ji Ban. Don't feel bad—you're not the only one. Lian Sheng's got a whole warehouse of them, trust me."

Finally, after circling the map to avoid dead ends, Ji Ban backed into a corner.

He fired a grappling line to scale the wall, but Lian Sheng severed it mid-flight with a slash from behind. Then she closed in, unleashing a flurry of sword techniques.

Swordplay was all about speed—blade work, footwork, body shifts—everything in unison.

Ji Ban couldn't even block properly. All he saw was a storm of steel flashing before his eyes.

He was buckling.

Vision, reflexes, fingers—something always lagged. After the earlier frenzy, his fingers had stiffened. With no respite, his responses grew sluggish. Strike after strike landed.

"Ah... the decline begins."

"So the way to counter manual mechs is with speed?"

"Must be. Sensor mechs translate body movements directly into data. Manual mechs require input, processing, then execution. And he probably doesn't have adamantium fingers either."

"Even adamantium fingers have limits. Humans can only go so fast."

Manual mechs hit human limits sooner. But all technology was bound by human capability. Tech that outpaced its users was useless. Thus, manual mechs faced an insurmountable barrier in their development.

Every new feature had to account for practicality.

If resources were limited, investing in sensor mechs—with their greater potential—was the obvious choice.

Yet Lian Sheng suddenly realized her rapid strikes weren't very effective.

Moshi's armor was too thick. Sword techniques worked on humans because flesh wasn't that tough. But against mechs, shallow slashes barely made a dent.

Ji Ban noticed it too.

A few scratches—what could they do? If she had to choose between speed and power, this wasn't so bad after all.

Ignoring her attacks, he swiftly drew his weapon.

Close-quarters combat had its perks too.

But Lian Sheng abruptly shifted tactics. Twisting a hilt, her blade retracted slightly, extending a needle-like spike at the tip.

Then she bent her knees slightly, gathering momentum before driving the spike forward with full force.

This strike was different. The concentrated tip amplified the impact, focusing all damage on a single point.

A crisp metallic clang rang out.

Lian Sheng withdrew, feinted, then thrust again.

The same spot.

This time, the cockpit visibly dented, cracks spiderwebbing outward.

It was working!

Alarmed, Ji Ban tried to block with his weapon. But the blade's extensions and retractions were lightning-fast, paired with Lian Sheng's erratic footwork—impossible to predict. Faced with techniques he'd never seen, Ji Ban was helpless.

The spectators recognized the style instantly, buzzing with excitement.

"Ahhh! This—this is that thing! What was it called?"

"That move! The one from before!"

Yan Shuo, hunched over his console, blinked in disbelief before slapping his thigh. "Damn!"

"Western fencing! From that match ages ago!"

"The Great General's... ability to absorb techniques is monstrous! She actually remembered!"

If it worked, who cared where it came from? Wasn't the point of experience to adapt and adopt?

Mix and match—the more varied, the harder to counter.

Ji Ban's defenses crumbled under the assault. Cornered and worn down, his cockpit was finally pierced.

The match ended.

As a manual mech, he wasn't ejected from the combat interface.

The crowd assumed Ji Ban's legend had been shattered by Lian Sheng. His humiliating defeat in the final moments laid bare all his flaws, leaving him powerless.

Someone of his skill must have pride. Such an outcome should've been unbearable—anger and excuses were expected.

Would he log off immediately or try to save face?

Sure enough, Ji Ban spoke.

"Sigh."

The audience: "..." That sigh spoke volumes.

They leaned in, eager for more. Instead, the two launched into a civil technical discussion.

Lian Sheng said: "Good match."

"I didn't go easy," Ji Ban replied. "I just lost. It's a shame. But sensor mechs are seriously impressive. Do you guys practice fighting every day? Is it exhausting? Does it hurt? The stronger the mech, the stronger you are—that's amazing."

Lian Sheng said: "It's manageable. We're not allowed to fight normally. You've got plenty of room to improve."

Ji Ban: "How?"

Lian Sheng: "Tactics, for one."

Ji Ban asked: "You need specialized tactics for one-on-one combat?"

"Of course," Lian Sheng said flatly. "Shamelessness is a mandatory course in every warrior's growth."

The audience: "..."

Though Lian Sheng and Ji Ban's match had concluded, the crowd remained electrified. In viewing rooms across the network, strangers and acquaintances alike dissected the battle.

The fight had laid everything bare—no room for denial. Discussions now centered on objective analysis.

Manual mechs' modularity allowed greater weapon versatility. But all technology was bound by human limits. Manual mechs' constraints were too severe, while sensor mechs still had far to go. Both needed to find their paths forward.

After her match with Ji Ban, Lian Sheng fought once more. Then, midway through the 3 PM session, the committee abruptly halted the competition, declaring the preliminaries over.

The list of qualifying academies appeared in the system.

The selection had ended shockingly fast—half a month of delays, yet finishing a full month early.

The usual marathon of narrow victories and legendary comebacks was absent this year. The skill gap between students was unusually stark.

Past tournaments ran until finals week. Now, with schedules upended, Military Academy students found themselves with a month of unexpected free time.

Qualifiers were immediately assembled for intensive prep under instructors, analyzing opponents and strategizing formations.

Alliance University secured thirteen slots—a strong showing, though the faculty grumbled. Last year's fifteen had set higher expectations. This "decline" warranted criticism to motivate underclassmen.

But this year's selections covered more specialties: snipers, scouts, even commanders. The roster's flexibility had actually improved.

This summer, however, would be grueling. Every student faced relentless training to master new mech capabilities and push their limits further.

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