Please pull the trigger for this world one more time.

......

the other side.

The Highlanders' pursuit force could clearly sense that they were getting closer and closer to the sniper, and based on the sound of firing and the arrival time of the bullets, they could roughly calculate that the sniper hadn't moved much.

However, during this period, the number of casualties in their troops also increased sharply.

In just a short while, the two squads combined lost about the manpower of another platoon.

To be honest, they all felt that with this casualty ratio, even if they caught the sniper, they had already lost—

There are 23 non-commissioned officers of all ranks: one colonel, one captain, two lieutenants, and three second lieutenants.

In his first battle in the Guangwu Empire, he was destined to be nailed to the pillar of shame by a sniper.

Finally, they caught up to the middle of a small hill. Not far ahead of them was a waterfall, with an almost vertical, smooth rock face on one side. The two squadrons split up and blocked all exits.

"Everyone, shields up, advance!"

Hidden behind a large rock, Mo Zi'an witnessed this scene and felt as if he wasn't acting in a rehearsal, but rather in an ancient-style movie...

Mo Zian stopped shooting at these people, instead carrying the Judge on his back and drawing his bakelite greatsword—

With one hand holding the wooden sword high above his head and the other hand placed in front of his chest, he left behind the large rock and slowly walked towards the other person.

Mo Zian heard a series of clicking sounds as the gun was cocked.

"stop!"

"Don't fire! Heed my command, don't fire!"

"A duel on the battlefield! A duel on the battlefield!"

Several men, clearly officers, were shouting loudly.

For a moment, all the people on the high ground were stunned. Then they looked at each other and actually lowered their guns.

Mo Zian's heart, which had been in his throat, instantly relaxed.

It's better to stay traditional!

At this moment, all two hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on the figure approaching from a distance. It was this figure who dared to attack an entire army by himself and lead them by the nose for half a day.

It not only caused them unacceptable casualties, but also created unspeakable psychological pressure.

Now, the opposing side, already trapped like a cornered beast, has launched a duel on the battlefield—an ancient tradition of the Highlanders.

"When the blade points to the sky, it represents supreme courage, and courage blesses me; even if I die by the sword, I will be honored."

This old Highland proverb, along with the ancient tradition of dueling on the battlefield, has been passed down in the Highlands to this day—ordinary soldiers don't care about such things, but officers of noble birth do.

As Mo Zian drew closer, a brown-haired man wearing only close-fitting soft armor parted the crowd.

"I admire your courage to fight against a hundred men, warrior." (Highland language)

"I am Count Philip Trema, the guardian of the small kingdom of the highlands, from the banks of the Galloping Horse River to the Valley of the Green Pine, the ruler of the Green Horse Territory, and currently the lieutenant colonel commanding the Foreign Highland Assault Force of the Fourth Army Corps in the Southwest of the Guangwu Empire."

Young man, now that you've guessed our origins and know our traditions, you should truthfully state your origins as well.

The translator beside Earl Cui Ma translated his words verbatim to Mo Zi'an, who had stepped forward to the front of the battle, giving him a sense of déjà vu, as if he were filming a foreign period drama.

Mo Zian stood at attention in front of the person who came, and then gave a proper Guangwu military salute: "Good morning, Colonel, Warrant Officer Mo Zian, reporting for duty."

"So... Warrant Officer Mo Zian, what are your demands for this duel, and what is your price?"

Count Trema stared at the young man before him and asked, "This is an exercise. We are essentially allies. The 'Duelist Life' option has been automatically removed."

If your demands and price are not met, you will be eliminated immediately.

"My demand is that if I win, you will guarantee that I will not be judged as 'killed,' but rather captured and not interrogated."

Earl of Greenhorn nodded after hearing Mo Zian's words. "Under the premise of not being able to risk one's life, it is indeed a reasonable choice. So, young man, what is your price?" (Highland language)

"If I lose, I will declare you 'killed' on sight," Mo Zian said, pointing to the [Judge] behind him, "and I will give you this sniper rifle on my back."

It was unclear whether Earl Cui Ma was staring at Mo Zi'an or at the weapon behind him.

After a few breaths of contemplation, he spoke, "Alright, reasonable demands and price, we accept your challenge... Highland warrior, bind the ring!" (Highland language)

From Mo Zian's perspective, as Count Cui Ma finished his last few syllables, the highland soldiers around him first slung their trapezoidal shields over their backs, then sat down on the ground in a small circle, their faces turned outwards.

In this way, the shields behind them naturally formed a low ring, and anyone who stepped out of this boundary would be mercilessly stabbed by the longswords in their hands—since these soldiers were facing away from the inside of the circle, this stabbing was indiscriminate, regardless of friend or foe.

Immediately afterwards, the outermost layer of highland soldiers automatically split their formation, and Mo Zian made way for them.

Mo Zian took a deep breath and strode inside.

Count Turquoise glanced at Mo Zian, then looked at his subordinate: "Gerry... no, Murphy, you come here."

The person whose name was called was a young captain with short, choppy hair and a light beard—the same person who had led the pursuit of Mo Zi'an from the very beginning.

The captain looked Mo Zian up and down, then shook his head. "My lord, in my opinion, he's still just a child who hasn't even grown his first hair..."

"But more than anything, he is a warrior, Murphy, have no doubt about it."

Count Trema immediately retorted in a questioning tone, "So what if you're seven or eight years older than him? This very child you're talking about, how many of your men did he take down unscathed? Could you have done that?"

Captain Murphy opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word; Earl Trema's words struck him to the core.

"A warrant officer is also an officer, soldier against soldier, general against general, Murphy," Earl Trema continued.

Mo Zian saw the man who had been called out exchange something with Earl Cui Ma, and then the man looked at Mo Zian with extremely complicated eyes and expression.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Baron Murphy Kenslow. To be honest, I should thank you for teaching my people a lesson."

Otherwise, these young men from my territory might very well die on the battlefield in such an inexplicable and dishonorable way.

Behind each of them is a family. You might not think it's a big deal, but I still want to thank you on behalf of their families.

After the translator finished translating this long passage, the man continued speaking.

"Similarly, you also make me very angry and frustrated, but that's why I acknowledge your strength and respect your honor, so I won't hold back."

Your marksmanship is divine, I'm deeply impressed. I hope your swordsmanship is equally formidable. Be careful, or I might break your bones.

The translator dutifully translated the message, but Mo Zian didn't react much. He simply began to silently remove his equipment—in a duel on the battlefield, only one's main weapon was allowed; everything else was forbidden.

When both sides were left with only their combat uniforms, Mo Zian picked up his bakelite greatsword and clasped his hands in a fist salute to the other side.

"Mo Zian, I'd like to learn from you!"