Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Their years of experience guarding Tar'sar'en have taught them a crucial truth: chaos does not equate to defeat.

Even if their formation is torn apart and their order is disrupted, as long as their blood is still burning, they can still grip their weapons tightly and use their last strength to form a wall. If the enemy dares to descend from the sky, they dare to meet them with steel and flesh, even if it means certain death, they will bite down hard on the fangs that are pouncing down.

However, as they surged in like a tide, the real tide appeared—'The Vanguard of Matheran'.

That was no ordinary enemy force, but a power that seemed to have been torn apart from the deep sea, carrying an aura of oppression and destruction. The waves that appeared out of nowhere swept up mud and gravel, forcefully knocking the guards who had just launched their counterattack to the ground. The sound of armor and weapons clashing was drowned out by the roaring water, like a river bursting its banks.

What followed was the raiding ship hovering at low altitude and firing its ballistae, before hovering in mid-air without immediately dropping ropes or hooks.

After all, there are no man-portable air defense missiles or RPGs in this world, are there?

Besides, rappelling under Asur's nose is a bit... ridiculous. They're treating Asur like he's blind, like he's stupid, like they're treating the bow and arrows like toys.

Of course, rappelling is part of the routine training for some of the Özil, 15th Army soldiers and Vétil's action groups. After all, no one can guarantee that there will be space when soldiers need to emerge from the raiding ship onto the ground.

When soldiers of the 15th Group Army conduct rapid maneuvers and deployments in forests and mountains, they must rappel down.

The same applies to some of the ERW and Vetill's action groups.

So, before the raiding ship even touched down, the soldiers who were already prepared on the deck jumped without hesitation. The armor whistled in the wind, and the heavy impact and the scraping of metal upon landing created a deafening war drumbeat.

At that moment, the earth seemed to tremble.

Another group of soldiers chose to remain behind the ship's hull, using the raised walls as cover to unleash a barrage of crossbow bolts. Arrows rained down like a sudden downpour, piercing the mist and whistling past the guards' ears.

Meanwhile, the spellcasters who were still airborne began to exert their power.

Walls of surging water rose out of nowhere, like twisted barriers, abruptly piercing the ranks of Asul's defenders. The massive defensive line was instantly cut apart and disintegrated, the once-intact formation broken into isolated fragments. Behind the water walls, mist slowly spread, like the breath of a ghost, casting a hazy and deadly gray-white hue over the entire battlefield.

In the midst of this chaos, the spellcasters, guided by the lucky signs gleaned from divination, led their comrades step by step toward victory. A torrent of incantations—the "Harmony of Sounds"—resonated in the air, eerie yet solemn.

The blue light then flowed across the soldiers' armor and figures, transforming into an illusory 'blue shield'.

Immediately afterwards, Weakness, Decay, Illusion, and False Shadow were cast in succession.

With the help of the Arcane Orb and a small amount of Star Stones, the magical winds in this space suddenly became dense and violent, like the undercurrents in a stormy sea, giving the spellcasters the confidence to cast spells at will.

In just a few breaths, it was like the Eight Immortals crossing the sea, each displaying their unique abilities.

The combination of the water wall and the fog repeatedly hampered the ranged attacks of the Asur guards; arrows struck the water wall only to tremble weakly, and the fog further obscured visibility. Nevertheless, several Duruchs still fell, wounded by arrows, their blood staining the deck.

The 'Blue Shield' is a protective shield. It automatically defends against one attack from a conventional weapon and adds a layer of lightning-like electric shock. As a result, any enemy who strikes it with a metal weapon will often have their heart burned through by the electric current and fall stiffly to the ground in an instant.

However, this is a single-target spell. When it becomes a group spell, its power is greatly weakened, and it can only protect soldiers from one attack at most. After one strike, the radiance vanishes, and the shield immediately dissipates.

And those illusions and false protections cannot last forever.

On the deck, a soldier who had concealed his body deep behind the ship's rail finally fell into a pool of blood and never made a sound again.

The illusory shadow blocked the first arrow for him; the arrow, which should have pierced his visor, merely passed through the phantom and continued flying away. The blue shield and heavy helmet deflected the second arrow, but the near-face-to-face impact generated a deafening force, knocking him off balance. Just as he swayed and was about to lose his balance, a third arrow, flying close to the ship's side, pierced his visor with deadly accuracy.

Blood splattered on the deck, the heat and the stench of blood mingling together, becoming the coldest footnote to this battlefield.

Asur's tactical acumen and martial prowess were on full display at this moment. Even though their vision was obscured by the fog, it didn't prevent them from memorizing Duruqi's location before the fog even appeared. Well-trained, even in the midst of chaos, they could pinpoint the enemy's location using memory and intuition. So, holding their recurve bows and hunting bows, they stood still, held their breath, and unleashed a barrage of shots in the direction they remembered.

For a moment, Asur and Duruci engaged in a passionate exchange of arrows, which flew through the air like an invisible rainstorm pouring down between the deck and the ground.

The bowstrings snapped repeatedly, and cries of agony and the sounds of bodies collapsing onto the deck and the ground followed one after another.

Overall, however, Asur's side was at a disadvantage because Duruci had the advantage of altitude and was in a superior position. From the sky, the crossbow bolts fired at them were like a net of death, covering the battlefield.

Moreover, the appearance of the water wall acted like a constantly surging, crystalline blue barrier, effectively blocking most of the arrows. The rapidly flying arrows plunged into the water curtain, immediately losing their original penetrating power.

The resistance of the water caused the arrows' kinetic energy to decrease abruptly, and their direction was also changed. Many arrows were caught by the water wall, hovering and spinning like struggling fish, before finally falling helplessly. A small number of arrows, even if they managed to break through the water wall, were already limp and fell directly to the ground with a despairing "thud".

At the same time, the appearance of Weakness and Wither spells only made matters worse.

Having rushed here last night and not yet recovered his strength and spirit, Asur suddenly felt his limbs heavy, as if all his strength had been drained away. Everything before his eyes became blurry, and his body felt so weak that it didn't belong to him. Someone tried to lift his sword, but his arm trembled, and even the blade shook uncontrollably.

In this state, Duruci appeared on the ground and engaged in close combat with Asur, the collision erupting suddenly in an instant.

Duruci did not shout for kill; they were hunters, and silence was their instinct.

There was no commotion before the killing; only a cold silence.

The only sound they could hear was the soft, crisp crunching of their boots as they crushed the volcanic rocks, a sound like a cold countdown, each crunch a reminder to Asur that death was approaching.

The guards raised their shields to meet the first wave of Durucci's charge. The massive impact caused the shields to shudder violently, crackling with electricity and producing a deep, booming sound that seemed to vibrate the air itself.

The guards who participated in this wave of attack fell almost simultaneously. They were struck by the electric current emanating from the blue shields, causing their bodies to spasm, their eyes to roll back, and their bodies to slam heavily to the ground.

The second rank of guards seized the opportunity to fill the gap, stepping over the corpses of their comrades and the fallen shields to push forward, raising their shields high. But the force was too great; they were forced back half a step, their feet sliding over the rubble and mud, leaving drag marks. Even so, they did not fall, but immediately launched a counterattack, their swords and spears thrusting out, attempting to attack the visor of the charging Duruchi.

Blood gushed from the seams of the visor, splattering onto the gray-black volcanic rocks. But this slight victory did not allow the Asur even the slightest respite.

The second and third waves of Duruci followed one after another, relentlessly and efficiently. Weapons and shields clashed wildly at close range, force against force.

Sparks flew, lightning flashed, and the clanging of metal sounded like countless blacksmiths forging simultaneously, turning the entire battlefield into a giant furnace.

After a guard's spear missed its mark, Duruqi tucked it under his arm and gripped it tightly with his left hand. Before he could pull the spear back, a leaf hammer came hurtling down in his face. The heavy iron hammer embedded itself in his helmet, and with a muffled thud, the man and his armor were smashed to the ground.

However, at the same instant, another guard shouted and thrust his sword from the side, the tip of which accurately pierced the gap in the mask of the man named Duruqi, and blood gushed out.

But before he could draw his sword, the sound of wind cutting through the air suddenly appeared in his ears.

The moment the sound rang out, his heart tightened, and almost instinctively he chose to abandon his weapon and duck to avoid it. But he was still half a step too slow, and a powerful spiked club struck him squarely in the face.

The nose, exposed to the air, was smashed to pieces first, followed by the mouth, chin, and right eye. The entire face was completely destroyed in an instant, the flesh and blood exploding like ripe fruit, and warm blood mixed with broken teeth and bone fragments continuously slid down the breastplate.

In that instant, the sounds of bones cracking and armor shattering intertwined, like terrifying drumbeats echoing endlessly across the blood-red battlefield, sending chills down one's spine.

The Asur's body was thrown out by the brute force, crashing into his companion's shield like a scarecrow that had lost its balance, only to bounce back violently due to the elasticity of the shield.

In the moment before he was about to lose control of himself and fall heavily, he used his last bit of strength to reach out his trembling hand and grip the connection between the spiked club and its handle tightly.

He did not groan.

He could no longer make any sound; the lower half of his face was completely shattered, flesh and bone fragments mixed together, even the most primal screams were extinguished. His breathing was intermittent, and only the gurgling sound of blood churning in his throat remained.

Even so, he still gripped the joint between the spiked club and its handle tightly. The blood-stained weapon was like the last extension of his life. He staggered as he hoisted the spiked club onto his shoulder. Even as his spine trembled and his intact eye was about to plunge into boundless darkness, he still tried to buy even a moment of time for his comrade beside him.

He knelt down, his knees slamming onto the blood-soaked ground, but before he knelt, he still stared intently at Duruci, who was trying to pull back the spiked club.

His single eye burned with a fiery obsession, a gaze that tore through the shadows of death. Even as his breathing failed and his blood drained away frantically, he used his last strength to grip the weapon tightly, determined not to let the enemy take it from him easily.

Duruci was not frightened by that look; he was so scared that he collapsed to the ground.

After all, he was a member of the Eagle Flag Brigade. He had seen and experienced far too much, and even in the face of such a cruel scene, his resolve would not waver. Although there was surprise in his eyes, it was surprise at the tenacity and indomitable spirit displayed by Asur before him.

He tried to pull hard, but the spiked club wouldn't budge, as if nailed to the air by the will of the dead. After a brief hesitation, he abandoned the heavy weapon and grabbed the entrenching tool from his waist. He swung it around, spreading the blade, and before he could even secure the latch, he slashed sharply to the right.

This strike blocked the incoming sword precisely, sparks flew, and the sound was deafening.

The deafening clang of metal striking metal made his hand go numb instantly, his thumb split open, and he almost dropped his entrenching tool. The powerful impact traveled from his arm to his shoulder, even making his vision go black for a moment. Just as he was about to strike back, he suddenly heard a whooshing sound, a sharp tearing noise that made him reflexively close his eyes.

In that instant, he had a strong premonition—he was too slow, he was going to die.

But the next sound was not the sound of a longsword shattering his helmet, but the sound of steel clashing against steel!
He opened his eyes abruptly, realizing that his comrade who had filled in had used his shield to block the fatal blow at the crucial moment. The shield collided with the longsword, sending sparks flying and shards of metal scattering everywhere.

He turned his head and caught a glimpse of a guard appearing to his right.

There was no nod of thanks, no extra words.

He missed the shield, unleashing a vicious slash that struck Asur squarely in the face, blood and bone fragments gushing forth instantly. Almost simultaneously, the Evil Guard's spear pierced the enemy soldier's eye socket, instantly penetrating his skull.

Everything was swift and decisive, without any hesitation, and the Asur guard collapsed to the ground.

After the finishing blow was completed, Duruchi, who had swung the shovel, still didn't say anything. He was panting heavily, his throat burning with pain. He took a step back and finally managed to stabilize the shovel. Then, he naturally moved to the left behind Erwei, using the opponent's shield as cover.

Facts have proved that his decision was correct.

In that instant, a sharp arrow pierced the air and flew fiercely towards him. Originally aimed directly at his visor, it was blocked by the shield of the Evil Guard at the crucial moment.

With a dull thud, the arrow pierced the heavy shield, its tip stubbornly protruding, nearly striking his eye. At that moment, he felt cold sweat break out on his forehead, his heart pounding wildly. If not for that cover, he would be dead by now.

At the same time, a Duruci, wielding a long-handled battle axe with both hands, smashed the guard's raised shield. The shield clanged with a sickening thud, nearly shattering under the axe's force. The guard's arm went numb from the brute force, his hand split open, blood seeping between his fingers. Before he could regain his balance, the deathly axe was already raised high like a black lightning bolt, poised for a second strike.

However, just as the axe blade was about to fall, dazzling sparks burst from Duruci's helmet as an arrow struck it hard, but was deflected by the helmet's hard curve.

The arrow grazed the metal surface, producing a sharp scraping sound and sparks. The immense impact made his vision blur and his ears ring, almost causing him to lose his footing. But even so, he suppressed his dizziness with his remaining fighting instincts and roared as he brought his battle axe down with tremendous force.

Almost simultaneously, the shaft of an arrow appeared on his visor.

But the arrow came too late; it could not stop the devastating axe strike.

The heavy axe blade, carrying the weight of certain death, struck the guard without deviation.

The breastplate shattered like a fragile terracotta pot under the immense force, revealing flesh and bone beneath the cracks. With a dull cracking sound, the battle axe embedded itself deeply in his chest cavity, knocking him to the ground.

Blood gushed down the axe blade, staining the rubble and soil red. In his final struggle, he let out low, labored breaths, his hands pounding the ground in vain, as if grasping at nothingness.

Just as he was convulsing violently, Duruchi, who had been shot in the face, also collapsed with a thud, crashing heavily onto his body. The battle axe, which had not yet been pulled out, was forced even deeper by the weight, cruelly pushing open the broken bones. His last struggle was torn apart, his breath suddenly stopped, and his body fell silent completely upon impact.

Blood mist spread between the two stacked corpses, the guards' blood mingling with the blood splattered by Duruci, dripping onto the ground through the gaps between the axe blade and the armor, making a pitter-patter sound, as if the battlefield were tolling a cold death knell for their deaths.

A Duruci kicked aside the fallen corpse, brandishing his battle axe as he approached. His movements were swift and ruthless, as if he wanted to tear open an opening in the shortest amount of time. Just as he raised his axe blade, another guard stepped forward, his heavy long shield slicing horizontally to block the momentum of the axe blade.

The impact sounded like an anvil being struck, and Duruqi's arms jerked, almost causing him to drop his axe handle. Before he could catch his breath, the guard's longsword pierced along the edge of the shield, a flash of cold light, the tip of the sword grazing his throat guard, leaving a shallow white mark.

Duruci let out a low growl, twisting his body sharply and swinging his battle axe in a backhand sweep, forcing the guards back, but in doing so, exposing his flank. Another guard had already seized the opportunity, crouching low as he thrust his spear forward. The spearhead found an opening in the gap in the armor and pierced Duruci's thigh. He groaned, almost collapsing to his knees, but he persisted, swinging his axe in a backhand swing to shatter the spear shaft. As splinters of wood flew everywhere, he dragged his injured leg and continued his attack.

Just then, a third guard stepped in from behind. Instead of slashing directly, he raised his shield and rammed it. The long shield, made of iron and wood, crashed down on Duruchi's back, pressing him against the pierced corpse of his comrade.

Duruci knelt in the pool of blood. Just as he was about to get up, another Duruci rushed over and blocked his way, his spear like a venomous snake aimed straight for the guard's throat.

In the critical moment, the sword-wielding guard spun to parry, sparks flying, the impact numbing his hand. Before he could regain his footing, the enemy's spear swung up from below, attempting to stab him in the chin. In that instant, his comrade beside him swiftly plunged the broken shaft of his spear into Duruchi's ribs, as if to nail him to the battlefield. The spear deflected, grazing his throat guard.

The local battle quickly descended into chaos as Asur and Duruci became entangled, the sounds of clashing weapons merging together. Blood, dust, and sweat churned in the confined space, and every parry and attack triggered the next person's movement.

Just as one guard deflected the battle axe, another Duruchi's one-handed axe pierced through from the side. He had to dodge to the side, and in his moment of slowness, his comrade behind him stepped forward with his shield, saving him from the fatal blow.

Immediately afterwards, the replacement Duruci swung his flail and smashed it down. The chain head struck the shield, causing the guard to stagger. Another Duruci took the opportunity to thrust, but was deflected by the guard hiding behind him with a sword. The sword cut through the visor and sprayed a cloud of blood.

After his comrade-in-arms, who had been shielding him with a spear, fell to the ground, Duruqi, whose thigh had been stabbed, was still struggling. He clung tightly to the edge of a guard's shield, trying to drag the man down into a pool of blood.

The guard beside him roared and swung his longsword in a counterattack, but the blow was blocked by his armor. Almost simultaneously, his wrist was sliced ​​open by another Duruci's one-handed axe, blood spurting out, and his longsword immediately slipped from his hand.

He roared in pain, slamming his forehead against the enemy, managing to knock him to the ground. But he lost his balance, staggering as the third man, Duruci, grabbed his chin, his iron arm tightening around him. He kicked wildly, his still-functioning left hand desperately trying to pull away from the twisted arm, but finally, with a blow from the hammer to his face, a resounding crack echoed as his spine snapped, and his body went limp.

Enraged by the sight, the nearby guard raised his shield and shoved Duruci, who was clenching his chin, away.

However, Duruci managed to hold on, but that was all. A spear pierced his visor, and he died right next to Asur, who had been thrown into his arms.

The guard who had just finished off the enemy drew his spear, preparing to charge. But the instant he pulled out his spear, another Duruci seized the opportunity to pounce, his dagger plunging into his armpit. He groaned as he released his spear and retaliated by striking his opponent's face. Unfortunately, the power of a punch is limited. As Duruci pulled out his dagger, he jolted and plunged it into the guard's eye socket. With a twist of the dagger, the guard felt nothing more.

The battle lines were like a bowstring being stretched taut, each link connected to the next, their offense and defense mutually restraining each other, leaving no way out for either side. Each collision was like a fully drawn bowstring suddenly snapping, producing a piercing vibrating sound, only to be stretched taut again in the next instant.

Ultimately, the Duruci who appeared on the ground gained a local advantage, and like a torrent, they forcefully dispersed the guarding ranks.

The guards held out tenaciously, but even so, they were forced to split into small groups, fighting back to back. In this chaos, they maintained an almost instinctive coordination: some raised shields to block the heavy blows of the axes, some seized the opportunity to thrust their spears straight into the enemy's abdomen, and some swiftly drew their short swords to deliver the fatal blow to their comrades in the intricate melee.

The cruelty of the battlefield cannot be concealed.

Some screamed and fell, shields slipping from their grasp and crashing onto the ash-muddy slope, instantly crushed into twisted pieces of metal; others gritted their teeth, even with Duruci's spear piercing their chests, still gripping the enemy's arm tightly, using their last strength to buy their comrades a chance to retaliate. Blood mixed with the black ash of the slope, along with the previous tide, formed a viscous swamp, where each step felt a dull, stagnant suction.

Screams, roars, and the sharp sounds of weapons slashing and tearing mingled together, as if the entire volcanic cone slope was shrouded in a frenzied symphony of blood and iron.

This was a close-quarters battle that degenerated into a complete bloodbath.

Between the guards of Tar Saln and Duruchi, there was no way out and no time to catch their breath; every breath they took was a struggle for survival on the edge of a knife.

Relatively speaking, these Asur are considered "lucky".

At least they could fight Duruci face to face, and have the opportunity to plunge their swords and spears deep into the enemy's body. Even if they ultimately could not escape death, at least they would die knowing why and for what they deserved.

Those Asur who were isolated and trapped by the water wall fared much worse.

The nearly transparent wall of water was like a silent curse, separating them from the battlefield. Some refused to believe it and gritted their teeth, trying to break through the wall, but only a few managed to get through. Most of the warriors were frozen in place the moment they rushed into the wall, like solidified amber, trapped and dying in the semi-transparent water curtain.

At this moment, the captain, still on deck, turned around, his gaze cold and resolute. He looked at Lylas, who had finished casting the spell and was maneuvering the raiding ship, a silent understanding in his expression. After confirming that Lylas had nodded slightly, he returned a very short but meaningful nod.

Then, he slowly drew his weapon.

It was a curved sword, but to be precise, it was a uniquely designed double-peaked broadsword.

The guard of the blade is decorated with a large shell pattern, which is both beautiful and can perfectly protect the hands during frontal combat; the middle section of the handle is slightly ridged, which makes it easy to grip firmly and exert force, and the silver counterweight ball inlaid at the end is finely twisted into a spiral, reflecting a sharp light when shaken.

The blade forks into two peaks, with the false edge extending outwards, giving it a fierce yet strange appearance. The entire blade is about 1.3 meters long, but its center of gravity is shifted towards the rear, allowing for extremely fast swings that are both swift and penetrating. It is far more agile than its bulky appearance might suggest.

This knife was not a standard military weapon; it was custom-made using his points.

This was actually Darkus's idea. Apart from Kledan, Soulbreakers, and a few special units, the vast majority of officers and soldiers used standard equipment, uniformly issued. If they wanted more powerful, more suitable, or more personalized weapons, they had to exchange them for points.

What are points?
Points are money, and money is points.

Undoubtedly, this is an extremely ingenious consumption mechanism. Otherwise, why not save them for breeding, and then exchange them all for land, real estate, and wealth after the war?
Thus, after obtaining an official position and accumulating a certain number of points, exchanging those points for a suitable magical weapon gradually became a trend in the military. The officers knew perfectly well that compared to the points that could only be redeemed after the war or upon retirement, the sharp blade they could hold in their hands right now was the real talisman.

A well-chosen magical weapon can give its wielder a greater chance of survival when facing powerful enemies, increasing their chances of killing or surviving. Against ordinary foes, its suppressive power is amplified many times over. Over time, it becomes not only a weapon of choice on the battlefield but also a symbol of status, something they are willing to spend points on and even pass down through generations.

As for the armor...

Armor is sufficient, and the best defense lies in taking the initiative and eliminating threats before you are truly safe. Why wait until the enemy's blade is upon you before passively defending yourself?

Instead of waiting, we should strike first and eliminate the threat completely.

in fact……

Custom-made armor is too expensive, making it much less cost-effective compared to weapons.

At the same time, the Reaper ballistae at the bow roared, firing splitting arrows. Like venomous snakes, the arrows pierced the air with a sharp whistling sound, bringing with them the scent of death. Just then, Lyrath's assault ship slowly descended, the deck striking the volcanic slope with a dull metallic clang.

Whether it's the Eagle Flag Brigade or a regular brigade, the flag bearers are always in groups of five.

One of them carries a shield to protect the flag, while the other four are always vigilant and guard the flag bearer.

On ordinary days, they do not participate in engineering or labor. In terms of the points system, they have an independent reward system, just like the battalion commander and other battalion-level officers.

Of course, they don't just sit around doing nothing. Every flag bearer has to undergo Blood Bowl rugby training, experience high-intensity physical and teamwork training, and also study tactics, martial arts, and various theories in depth—to prepare for becoming Kredan or the Black Knight in the future.

Yes, in the Army system, Blood Bowl rugby players almost always come from the ranks of flag bearers; it's a symbol and a testament to their strength.

The moment the raiding ship came to a stop on the volcanic slope, the flag bearer at the gunwale did not hesitate. He quickly unfastened his safety harness, nimbly flipped over the gunwale, and landed with the precision of a sharp blade.

As a result, those Asur who were separated and surrounded by the water wall were no longer in a bad situation, because they could now engage the enemy in direct combat.

When the captain, who was in the middle of the deck, jumped down, the flag bearer who had jumped first had already fallen to the ground, his body slamming heavily into the mud and water, trying to get up, his panting mixed with curses of pain.

He saw the fallen standard-bearer, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, but he didn't hesitate. He knelt down, gripping his double-edged sword tightly. When he straightened up, his presence was like a silent warning, like a bonfire lit in the darkness.

According to Total War: A lord-level, hero-class infantry unit has entered the battlefield.

This local battlefield was instantly ignited.

The captain's every step was imposing. He brandished his double-edged sword, meeting Asur's charge head-on. The blade cleaved through the air, severing the tips of oncoming spears, sparks flying, the sharp screech of metal scraping echoing across the volcanic slope.

There was no hesitation in his eyes, his consciousness as cold as if it had been soaked by a torrent of blood. The moment the killing mode was activated, every movement of his was precise and deadly, as if his body and the blade had become one.

An Asur, facing him, swung his longsword with all his might, attempting to block his attack. However, he slipped, slightly turned his body, and his double-edged sword slid like a snake along the tip of the longsword, severing the guard and knocking the Asur to the ground.

Before he could catch his breath, the blade swept across repeatedly, repelling the next guard who charged at him. The tip of the blade sliced ​​through the shoulder armor, splattering sparks and blood.

At this moment, the practicality and cost-effectiveness of this double-edged broadsword were on full display in his hands; every swing and thrust delivered direct and immediate power. (End of Chapter)