Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

The final swordsmanship match of Chapter 2

Imperial Calendar Year 557 [26 years after the prologue]
United Provinces Republic [Alternative name for the Piedmont Republic]
guitucheng

It was a clear, cloudless summer afternoon.

The sun turned the entire city into a steamer, suffocating all living things.

"Keep going, and you'll win soon," Winters, a third-year officer cadet at the Army Officer Academy, told himself.

He bit his lip, desperately trying to suppress the instinct to breathe through his mouth.

[Winters Montagne]
Breathe! Breathe is the key!

Winters tried his best to maintain diaphragmatic breathing, actively controlling the rhythm to make each inhale and exhale as long as possible.

Warm air was expelled from the nasal cavity, hitting the inner wall of the full-coverage helmet, and returning with a slightly pungent smell of sweat.

With the current temperature, it should be the time to take a nice, long shower and enjoy the cool breeze.
Even in this sweltering, oven-like heat, Winters was completely covered up from head to toe.

He was wearing a full set of cotton military uniform close to his body, and over the uniform he was wearing a training armor.

This training armor is cavalry plate armor salvaged from the corpses of nobles during the Sovereign War thirty years ago.

Because the Army wanted to save on teaching costs as much as possible, these secondhand supplies were all that officer cadets had.

Winters certainly didn't use the armor of the great nobles; those ornate and elaborate high-end pieces were taken home by the generals and used as decorations.

The officer cadets wore the armor of the knights who actually charged into battle on the front lines.

These lower-ranking nobles sold their ancestral property to buy warhorses and armor, and carrying their family-inherited lances and swords, followed their lords to Frosland to make their fortune.

[Forthland, now the United Provinces]
They believed the enemy was nothing more than a rebel army composed of merchants, serfs, and craftsmen.

But it was the merchants, serfs, and craftsmen who had the last laugh, while the knights were left to be buried far from home.

No one remembers who they were or where they came from; only these suits of armor, riddled with bullet holes and scratches, remain as proof that they once existed.

These suits of armor are plain in appearance, with little decoration and mostly unpolished. But their strength lies in their solid construction, as their quality is a matter of life and death for the wearer.

The Army Ordnance Department took all the accessories below the skirts of these armors and reissued them to the cavalry as brand new leg armor.

They also removed a batch of left shoulder armor from other captured armor and replaced the original right shoulder armor of these armors.

The cavalry armor had a notch in the right shoulder armpit for easy gripping of the lance, but the Ordnance Department did not want to go through the trouble of making another batch of right shoulder armor.

"Anyway, the shoulder armor doesn't have a front or back!" That's what they said.

The Ordnance Department registered this batch of second-hand assembled goods as "[Newly Built High-Quality Three-Quarter A]" and sent them to the Army Academy for use by officer cadets.

Many of the armor pieces with holes caused by musket fire were not repaired; the holes were simply hammered flat.

Having a few more gun holes isn't a big problem, since officer cadets won't be wearing that kind of armor on the battlefield.

What tormented the officers and cadets was not the bullet holes in the armor, nor the weight of the armor, but the excellent thermal conductivity of the iron armor.

In winter, it will rapidly draw away your body heat. In summer, it will efficiently transfer external heat into the armor.

Winters looked as if he had just been pulled out of boiling water; the cotton armor beneath his iron armor was soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his back.

Sweat dripped down my forehead and occasionally got into my eyes, stinging them painfully.

He was wearing a helmet and couldn't reach out to rub it, so he could only endure it.

Whenever Winters donned these training armors, which were older than him, in the sweltering summer, he felt a deep gratitude towards the Ordnance Bureau bureaucrats for not patching up the holes in the armor.

After all, with these, ventilation can be improved.

The more holes a training vest has during swordsmanship class, the more sought-after it is, and that's why.

The officer in charge of handling this batch of armor twenty years ago probably never imagined that his laziness would actually do him a good thing.

This batch of armor has been in use since the founding of the Army Officer Academy, nearly thirty years ago.

It will continue to torment Winters' juniors for the foreseeable future.

However, Winters doesn't have the time or inclination to pity his juniors right now.

He just wanted to get rid of all his burdens and then gulp down some cold water.

Before this match, he had already fought two matches against two other fencers.

He won, but it took a lot of his energy.

This match is both extremely important and extremely difficult.

After more than twenty rounds of fighting, Winters' shoulder muscles were as hot as red-hot iron, and as stiff as door hinges that hadn't been oiled for decades.

His upper arm muscles were involuntarily causing his entire arm to tremble, and his hands could barely grip the sword hilt.

The sword in his hand was the reason he had to wear a full suit of plate armor in the sweltering heat.

Swords are probably the weapons with the most subspecies in the world.

The sword Winters wields has a relatively short history, probably less than two hundred years.

It is 1.3 meters long, which is about the distance from the armpit of a 1.8-meter-tall adult male to the ground.

The sword has no hilt and is nearly 1 meter long.

Its sword guard is exceptionally large, measuring two feet in length.

The massive sword guard is the soul of this weapon; without it, many sword techniques cannot be executed.

This sword is very long, longer than most swords. Its center of gravity is a palm's width in front of the guard, and it must be used with both hands to unleash its power.

Compared to its length, its weight is surprisingly low. The sword Winters is using weighs only 1.4 kilograms.

In most cases, officers referred to it as a "sword".

If other types of swords appear in the conversation, causing confusion, the officer cadets will refer to it as "the sword we practice with."

Or it may simply be called a "longsword" because it is longer than a regular sword.

The longsword weighs only 1.4 kilograms, but if the force is applied correctly, it is enough to shatter bones and cleave flesh.

This is why Winters wore the full cavalry armor even in the sweltering summer heat, risking heatstroke.

Winters, and his opponents, all used unsharpened, genuine weapons.

Winters was practically boiled in sweat, but he didn't care.

He was focused solely on winning this match, defeating the person he hadn't beaten in six years.

And now, this is his closest chance to victory, and perhaps his last.

He glanced at the scoreboard on the sidelines through the grid viewing window on his helmet.

He scored 17 points, his opponent scored 12, and he never led the other guy by more than 5 points.

Whoever reaches 20 points first wins, and Winters now holds match point.

He repeatedly told himself, "Stay calm, stay calm, just a little bit."

His mind raced: "If Ekko wants to catch up, he has to take the initiative and attack. I can wait for an opening."

With his mind made up, Winters entered the playing area from the waiting area.

He stepped forward with his right foot, planted his lower body firmly in a T-stance, and straightened his back. He gripped the sword hilt with his right hand in front and his left hand behind, lowering his hands to the height of his navel, while the tip of the sword pointed upwards at his opponent's throat.

Winters' longsword technique originated from Ned Smith, the Founding Father, Confederate Field Marshal, and master swordsman. One of the core elements of this technique is "stance".

Winters' stance at this moment is known as the "plow," which combines offense and defense.

Moreover, he prefers to keep his dominant hand and strong side leg forward at the same time.

He knew very well that he was exhausted and his stiff posture must have looked ridiculous to the students watching, but he didn't care about losing face.

Time always seems to pass faster in our minds; a whole bunch of thoughts may be on our minds, but only a few seconds have passed in the real world.

Winters' opponent was approaching him in a similar stance to Winters.

Just as Winters had predicted, he held match point, and his opponent decided to play more aggressively and proactively.

Otherwise, a single gamble by Winters could end the game immediately.

The opponent's sword tip was also pointed at Winters' head, but he took a big step and moved to Winters' right side, trying to take Winters' side position.

Winters, of course, wouldn't let him have his way, and adjusted his pace accordingly.

The two looked as if they were looking in a mirror; their stances were identical, their steps were synchronized, and even their breathing rhythms were nearly in sync.

After circling around a few times, the distance between them grew closer and closer, and the tips of their swords began to clash.

Winters' eyes were fixed, and the tips of their swords began to clash, meaning that the two had simultaneously entered each other's attack range.

The opponent confidently took the initiative to control his longsword, clashing it against Winters's longsword, as if in a provocation.

The blades clashed, producing a crisp sound.

Such minor bumps and knocks may not bring any advantage, but they are an extremely effective psychological tactic.

An aggressive attitude can put tremendous psychological pressure on an opponent.

Winters hadn't realized that his momentum had already diminished when he decided to adopt a defensive counter-attacking strategy.

His self-perceived sound and reasonable decision-making is an outward manifestation of a lack of self-confidence.

Because Winters clearly knew that his opponent was stronger than him, and he still couldn't figure out how he was leading by 5 points.

Therefore, he sought stability.

If his opponent were leading by 5 points, he would have already launched a full-scale attack.

Seeing Winters firmly guarding the center line, his opponents began to adjust their offensive direction.

The opponent rotated the sword around the counterweight ball, turning the tip of the sword, which was originally pointing to Winters' right, to the left.

Winters immediately realized that the opponent's attack was coming!
His opponent possessed astonishing strength, often managing to knock Winters' longsword off the center line with his steel-like arms.

His opponent would then quickly step forward, block his sword with the parry, and deliver a high, downward thrust into Winters' chest.

This is the other person's specialty—the two know each other so well that they can understand each other's intentions with just a subtle gesture.

Winters reacted instinctively, and seeing that his opponent's sword had moved to his right, he changed his posture and swung to the right in advance.

This will be a head-on clash, and whoever gains the upper hand in the ensuing swordplay will score.

However, the tip of the opponent's sword spun in the air and returned to its original position.

It was a feint. Winters' hands and feet went cold, and only one thought crossed his mind: "Oh no!"

There is never any "battle of three hundred rounds".

Swordsmanship without armor can decide the outcome in a single move.

If you fall for a feint, then it's all over.

Although Winters had no time to think, his swordsmanship instincts remained.

Instinct replaced thought in controlling his muscles; he changed his sword swing from right to left, trying to correct his posture.

Too late, the opponent had already launched an attack from Winters' left flank.

Instead of aiming directly at Winters' torso, he first used his strong blade to strike Winters' weak blade.

Winters' longsword was knocked out of its place.

At the same time, the opponent's left leg muscles burst forth with powerful force like a spring, while his right foot took a large step forward.

The longsword in his hand quickly circled back to its starting position; "Thunderbolt from a Clear Sky" was coming!

Winters is about to face a brutal, top-down slash.

The sword traced an arc of light, moving so fast it made a whooshing sound.

This time, the longsword was aimed at the neck.

Without the slightest pity or restraint, the sword struck Winters squarely on his left collarbone.

"when!!!"

A deafening roar that was too horrible to hear.

Even the students watching subconsciously squinted their eyes.

Whistle blows!

Valid score.

Winters' opponent, however, was not careless at all. He quickly withdrew his longsword and used a horizontal sword position to block Winters' possible counterattack.

He didn't give Winters any chance to "counterattack".

A counterattack, or a strike within one beat after losing a point, is considered a draw in the competition rules of the Army Academy, meaning neither side scores a point if this occurs.

Winters' opponents will absolutely not give him a chance to retaliate.

However, the opponent was overthinking it. Taking a full-force "Thunderbolt from the Blue Sky" attack head-on was like being beheaded through armor.

Winters had no way to retaliate because he was in so much pain he was almost suffocating. Winters' neck armor, shoulder armor, and breastplate distributed the force of the impact across his entire torso—otherwise, that single strike would have cleaved half of his shoulder, even if his opponent was using a blunt sword.

However, the spot on his collarbone where he was hit still hurt like a toe that had been squeezed hard by a door.

The intense pain paralyzed Winters' muscles, leaving him almost unable to move for a moment.

His central nervous system responded to this strong stimulus, rapidly releasing large amounts of adrenaline and endorphins into his body.

After a brief but intense pain, Winters was suddenly able to breathe again.

He was panting heavily, and pointed to his left neck guard, indicating to the referee that he had been hit there.

The referee immediately awarded 3 points, and the scorer changed the score to [17:15].

A thunderous round of applause erupted in the training room.
This applause was not an insult to Winters; it was a tradition at the Army Academy where officer cadets would applaud and cheer for a brilliant battle.

In fact, even Winters wanted to applaud the opponent's attack.

It was absolutely amazing: simple and effective feints, clean and crisp slashes, and flawless defense. The whole routine was incredibly stylish.

Of course, it would be even better if the backdrop wasn't Winters himself.

From the moment their swords clashed to the moment Winters was struck, less than two seconds had passed.

The outcome was decided in the blink of an eye, and many students watching from the sidelines couldn't even see the actions of either side due to the poor angle.

All I saw was Winters take a hard hit in the blink of an eye, and he was so badly hit that he couldn't even stand up straight.

Beyond the pain, Winters was mostly filled with frustration.

Marshal Ned's swordsmanship emphasized the initiative, encouraged simple and direct attacks, praised the preemptive strikes that suppressed the enemy, opposed flashy but impractical sword techniques, and criticized all unnecessary feints.

Because Field Marshal Ned believed that a qualified fencer would never be easily deceived by feints, while an unqualified fencer could never defeat a qualified one.

When facing a skilled swordsman, randomly using feints is tantamount to giving the opponent an opportunity to strike.

In Winters' eyes, being hit by a feint was more humiliating than standing still and taking a beating.

"Are you alright? Should we rest for a bit before calling again?"

The opponent did not return to the waiting area in the corner of the field. Seeing Winters becoming unsteady, he asked Winters with concern.

The opponent's voice came from one helmet and then into another, sounding muffled.

Winters endured the pain and tentatively moved his shoulder a few times to make sure the bone was okay.

Thus, the young man's passionate and combative nature overcame the pain.

Although he really wanted to sit down and rest for a while, he couldn't bear to give up his pride.

"It's okay, let's continue," he said, rubbing his shoulders and gritting his teeth.

"Let them fight first, we'll come back later." The opponent was still worried.

Winters repeated, "It's okay, continue."

After saying that, he walked back to the waiting area with heavy steps.

The opponent sighed and walked back to his waiting area.

The whistle blew again, a new round began, and the two stepped back into the arena.

Blood surged and boiled in Winters' chest, and his fiery nature gradually suppressed his reason.

He thought that if he was on the defensive, he would be at a disadvantage and would be vulnerable to feints.

We must attack! Attack! Attack! A fierce thrust to the head will win us the game.

So in the new round, as soon as the two sides clashed, Winters immediately launched a surprise attack.

A decisive, high-step thrust, aimed straight for the opponent's face.

The principle behind this thrust is to raise the sword after the swords meet, using the parry to block the enemy's attack path while simultaneously threatening the opponent's head.

To be fair, Winters' fierce and reckless thrust did indeed take his opponent by surprise.

Before this, Winters' playing style had been exceptionally solid, so solid that he had almost no chance to capitalize on it, and so solid that he was unusually down by five points.

However, the opponent's instincts as a top-class swordsman remained, and his swordsmanship instincts overshadowed the panic caused by Winters' thrust.

As Winters stepped forward, his opponent nimbly took a step back.

The blades clashed, sparks flew, and a crisp sound rang out.

Immediately afterwards, as the blades scraped against each other, the opponent pushed his strong blade towards the tip of Winters' sword. Then, with a sudden burst of force, he pressed Winters' sword downwards.

The stronger blade has a natural advantage in torque over the weaker blade. Winters was unable to effectively counter it in terms of strength. His blade was lowered, and the tip of the sword left his opponent, pointing towards the ground.

At the same time, the opponent twisted his longsword to block Winters' possible slashing path, giving Winters no chance to change his move.

Apart from that, the opponent only did one thing.

He gently moved his wrist, keeping the tip of his sword pointing towards Winters' abdomen.

The next instant, Winters crashed into himself.

Whistle blows!

Thunderous applause and cheers erupted again, for yet another brilliant performance, lasting less than two seconds.

The outcome was decided in the blink of an eye.

The opponent seemed to easily score two points by hitting Winters' torso, but how many people know the tactical maneuvering involved?

Winters pointed to the spot on his training armor where he had been poked, and quickly walked back to the waiting area.

The score became 17-17, a tie.

The referee and the opponent looked at each other, and both shook their heads helplessly.

After spending six years together, both of them noticed that Winters' fiery temper had resurfaced.

In this state, Winters is a completely different person from his usual self; he is no longer the gentle, easygoing Monsieur Montagne who always seems to want to yawn.

He is now irrational and his mentality is on the verge of collapse.

But the competition must continue.

When the two returned to the waiting area, the opponent began to seriously consider a question: "Should I let Winters win this time... after all, this might be the last match."

It was another round, and Winters entered the arena in the "Rage" stance.

The "Angry Stance" is a posture for accumulating energy. Just as retracting a fist allows for a more powerful punch, the same applies to swordsmanship.

The swordsman would tuck the hilt of his sword to his shoulder, raise the longsword high, and be ready to launch a downward slash at any moment.

The furious slash is incredibly powerful and has a long swing distance, but the intention and direction of the attack are all too obvious.

At this moment, Winters' mind was occupied by one thought: "Attack."

The game was already tied; Winters was inferior to his opponent in terms of stamina, technique, and patience. To win, he had to rely on bold and fearless attacks—at least that's what he convinced himself of, and there was some truth to it.

When everyone thinks someone has lost their mind, they may actually have a twisted logic that convinces them, and it may even be quite convincing.

The idea of ​​attacking is not wrong in itself.

However, Winters failed to realize that his intention to attack was so obvious that it could not be ignored.

The next second, the opponent also adopted an angry stance.

Once again, the two stood face to face, their movements perfectly synchronized, as if looking in a mirror.

Winters understood the other person's thoughts; the [Angry Style] was the gesture Winters had given the other person when they first met.

For the past six years, the two of them have always practiced a few sword moves from the "Angry Style" first in their sword lessons.

Yes, Winters has practiced Ned longsword since childhood, while his opponent only started learning it six years ago.

However, his friend standing opposite him has now surpassed him.

The opponent's angry stance was telling him that he could choose to score three points with a straight thrust, because a straight thrust is always faster than a powerful swing—a point that Winters himself had told the opponent.

He's giving away points.

Winters' rival, classmate, and closest friend wants him to win this time.

However, Winters suddenly lost his strong desire to win, not because he was angry. On the contrary, his rationality was gradually returning.

This was the last time the two would compete in swordsmanship class, and it might even be their last match.

Because graduation means that partners who have spent every day together realize that they may never see each other again.

Winning or losing doesn't matter anymore; Winters suddenly didn't care.

So in this round, the two of them didn't use any fancy tricks.

The opponent, with greater strength, forced open the center line and delivered a straight thrust that hit the target.

This was the expected outcome. Winters threw down his longsword, stretched out his arms, and walked toward his opponent.

Whistle blows!

He gradually realized something was wrong; it wasn't 3 points, it was 2 points!
Winters was hit in the chest, not the head.

The score is now 17-19, one point away from ending the game.

Winters' shoulder injury, which had been easing, started to throb again, and he coughed violently. He had intended to end the match gracefully with a warm hug, but suddenly realized he had to fight another round.

The level of embarrassment was comparable to going to the funeral next door and bursting into tears.

Luckily, I didn't hug him yet, otherwise I would have been extremely embarrassed.

Winters picked up the longsword and strolled back to the waiting area.

It's another new round, and I'm starting with the Rage move again.

The opponent slashed diagonally, and Winters parried with the blade of his sword.
The opponent drew his sword and switched sides, and Winters also switched directions to block;

The opponent drew his sword again and switched sides, and Winters instinctively used the blade of his sword to continue parrying.

In the blink of an eye, the two sides exchanged three sword strikes, a seemingly lightning-fast exchange.

Winters is now fighting on instinct, but he has already vaguely sensed the smell of a conspiracy.

So when he realized that the distance between him and the other person was rapidly closing, he panicked.

He understood everything at once.

In his desperation, he burst into a tirade: "[Vicious filth]! You want... [Even more vicious filth]..."

It was too late; his personal attacks failed to reach his opponent effectively.

The other party could only hear a faint, mournful wail coming from inside his helmet.

The opponent switched to wielding the sword with one hand, using his left hand to control Winters' blade with the guard, while his right hand suddenly grabbed Winters' shoulder.

At the same time, he tripped over his own feet.

A simple leg-spinning throw, followed by a full-body overhead smash.

Poor Winters was knocked down, armor and all, and pinned down by his opponent.

The opponent chuckled and lightly tapped Winters' helmet with the hilt of his sword.

For the third time, thunderous applause and laughter erupted in the training room.

Since it's a swordsmanship competition, boxing obviously can't score points, and wrestling certainly can't score points either.

But after throwing and controlling the opponent, use the sword to damage the target.

Valid! One point awarded.

Wrestling is also part of swordsmanship – Marshal Ned Smith.

The whistle blew, and the referee announced loudly: "The winner is Axel of Orange!"

And so, the final swordsmanship match ended with a wrestling match.

Winters collapsed to the ground, panting heavily with a bitter smile, too weak to even move a finger.

[Q: Isn't practicing swordsmanship without armor while wearing armor akin to trying to find a lost sword by marking the boat where it was moved?]

[A: Winters and his companions learned unarmored swordsmanship, but because they didn't have the lightweight composite protective gear we have today, they still had to wear armor during practice for safety.]

[Q: Military academies don't teach combat, they teach swordsmanship? Are you kidding me?]

[A: No joke, military academies even teach dancing. The Brienne Military Academy's schedule included two dance classes, two reading classes, and two periods of recreational activities per week—that's 19th-century stuff. Brienne Military Academy has two famous graduates: Napoleon and Davout.]

The swordsmanship courses at the Allied Army Academy are more of a sport than a practical exercise.

[And: Wrestling is indeed part of swordsmanship]
[Strong blade/weak blade: The strong blade refers to the part of the longsword near the hilt, and the weak blade refers to the part near the tip. When your strong blade strikes your opponent's weak blade, the lever principle and impulse theorem show that your force is proportionally amplified, making it easier for your opponent's sword to lose its original position. There is also a distinction between true blade and false blade in longsword techniques, which will not be elaborated upon here.]

The counterattack is designed to simulate a potentially fatal situation in real combat. Extensive records show that people do not become instantly incapacitated when they suffer fatal injuries. They still have a chance to launch a final counterattack.

Therefore, in the sword fighting rules of the Allied Army Officer Academy, if the fighter who has been hit can successfully retaliate within one move, neither of them scores a point.

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(End of this chapter)