Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

Andrew's attacks became increasingly fierce, but he could clearly sense that his opponent's breathing had become erratic, he was using speed spells less and less, and he hadn't used Flash spell at all.

Clearly, his magic and physical strength were nearing their limits.

Sure enough, in the next minute, Andrew's attack frequency slowed down significantly, and he retracted his sword more slowly after each thrust than before.

Nozer noticed this detail and seized an opening when Andrew sheathed his sword. He slid forward and used his magic threads to precisely stabilize the swaying sword tip, placing it firmly against the seam of Andrew's breastplate at his waist.

"Spotted! Noze Stella, 1 point! Score tied 1-1!"

Time ticked by, and the referee's timer had only thirty seconds left.

Both of them were on the verge of exhaustion. Noze's vision was starting to blur due to physical exhaustion, his mask was filled with white mist from his breath, and his armor was already soaked with sweat, so heavy that it seemed to be pulling him down.

Andrew wasn't in much better shape; his pale lips were pressed tightly together, each breath accompanied by the rise and fall of his chest, and his fingers gripping the sword hilt began to tremble uncontrollably.

In this final moment, an eerie calm descended upon the arena. Both players assumed defensive stances, recovering their stamina and mana on the spot, preparing to unleash a powerful attack.

The entire training hall fell silent, like a volcano before it erupts.

Even the most cowardly person wouldn't consider giving up at this point, let alone Norze and Andrew.

"Ten seconds left!"

The referee shouted a reminder.

The training hall fell completely silent. Everyone held their breath, staring at the two players on the court. With ten seconds left in the deciding game, the score was tied 1-1.

Andrew could naturally continue to stall until the time runs out, thus winning the match with more valid total hits.

But he didn't do that, or rather, he disdained to do so. A truly courageous soldier would not allow his victory to have any flaws.

That was an insult to a soldier.

"Five seconds left!"

In that instant, Andrew moved first.

He used the last bit of magic power remaining in his body to unleash a second flash spell in front of the tip of his sword. It was brighter and more sudden than the first one, and it exploded almost right next to Nozer's mask.

At the same time, he poured all his remaining magic into his feet and the blade of his sword, lunging forward like an arrow released from a bow, his lunge extended to its limit, the tip of his sword aimed straight at the gap in Nozer's throat guard.

The simplest form of the lunge thrust is concise, fast, and easy to use.

This was his final, desperate strike, a gamble that Norze wouldn't have time to react under the bright light.

"Four seconds!"

The moment the intense light burst forth, everything went completely white before Noze's eyes.

He could only judge whether the opponent's target was his throat by feeling the sound of the sword tip cutting through the air.

"Three seconds!"

In this life-or-death moment, Noze mobilized all the remaining magic power within his body.

Instead of blindly searching for Andrew's sword, he divided all the magic into two parts.

"Two seconds!"

Some of them, with a bit of anticipation, blocked Andrew's sword tip, using the force of his forward charge to slightly deflect to the side.

The other part of the magic was all wrapped around his sword, and he used it to cast an acceleration spell.

Using the momentum of Andrew's forward charge, he suddenly turned to the side, and at the same time, he twisted his wrist, using the last bit of strength in his body to send the sword out.

"One second!"

Two soft sounds, almost overlapping, rang out one after the other.

The first sound came from the tip of Andrew's sword, which grazed the top edge of Norzer's throat guard and struck the helmet with a crisp "clang," failing to hit the target area.

The second sound came from the tip of Norze's sword, which, following Andrew's forward momentum, precisely struck the narrow gap between his breastplate and shoulder armor, coming to a steady stop.

"Beep—Time's up!"

The referee blew his whistle simultaneously, "Successful! Noze Stella, 1 point!"

"Noser Stella wins the third game! Overall score 2-1! Noser Stella wins!"

The moment the whistle blew, Noze's taut nerves snapped completely.

The swift sword in his hand clattered onto the wooden floor, and he collapsed backward, falling heavily to the ground.

The cold steel armor slammed against the floor, sending a shiver down his spine. He didn't even have the strength to move a finger; he could only gasp for breath, his lungs burning with pain, and his vision blurring.

He lifted his mask and tossed it aside. The sunlight streaming into the training hall was so bright he could barely open his eyes. All he could hear was the deafening noise and Lucas's excited shouts from inside the arena, but he couldn't hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.

Andrew, who was standing to the side, could not hold on any longer. His last attack missed, and he had already exhausted all his strength. He could not regain his balance in the bow stance, staggered two steps, and fell to his knees, the sword in his hand slipping to the ground.

He took several deep breaths, then finally sat on his side on the floor, and eventually lay down, less than a meter away from Norze, panting heavily like a fish out of water.

The noise in the training hall continued, almost lifting the roof off, but the two people lying on the ground could only feel their own heavy breathing.

A breeze blew in through the training hall window, carrying a slight chill, and onto his sweat-drenched face, finally giving him a little much strength.

Noze turned his head to look at Andrew beside him.

Andrew happened to turn his head to look at him.

Their eyes met, and they both saw in each other's eyes the exhaustion of near collapse, and the final recognition of their opponent.

"You win."

Andrew spoke first, his voice hoarse and breathless, "In the end... I never expected this."

Noze coughed twice before recovering. "I almost lost... Your flashbang still makes my eyes blurry. If I hadn't taken the gamble, I would be the one who lost now..."

Andrew smiled gently; this was the first time Norze had seen him smile so relaxed.

Sweat clung to his pale face, and his light golden hair lay disheveled on his forehead, but he had lost the aloofness that had kept people at arm's length before.

The two lay side by side on the floor, neither of them having the strength to get up.

The surrounding noise, the discussions on the sidelines, and the sound of Lucas running towards them all seemed to become distant background noise.

The duel between sword and magic just now exhausted all their strength and trump cards, and also shattered that invisible barrier.

At least for now, there are no "magical geniuses" or "descendants of traitors of the Kut tribe" here, only two opponents fighting tooth and nail.

"Well done! Well done!"

Lucas rushed over, squatted down next to Nozer, slapped him on the breastplate, and laughed deafeningly, "Cum levi ambulatione! You really weren't bragging!"

Noze coughed twice after being patted, and shoved him irritably, "Stop patting me... Luke, you'll break my ribs if you keep patting me... Help me up, I can't get up."

"Why should I help you up? Andrew should help you up. The losing side should show sportsmanship and take the initiative to raise the winning side's hand. That's the rule."