As the distance narrowed, Ianâs face came into view.
Smiling.
He looked so calm that it was hard to believe that it was a battle.
Of course, Irene wasnât offended by that.
His opponent is the best on the continent. Perhaps, the strongest in the world.
It didnât matter to him if Ian was smiling or standing still with bare hands.
âWith full strength!â
Ireneâs eyes lit up. It wasnât just his eyes.
The flames which ignited during the fight with Lance Peterson had now spread throughout his body, making him look like an active volcano.
The opponent didnât care.
He chose the attack which best suited him then.
Having made a decision, he vigorously swung the greatsword.
Kwang!
Sword and sword collided. A considerable shock was transmitted to Ireneâs hand. But it wasnât painful.
Rather, it was enough to make him more excited.
Instead of going head-on, Irene swung his sword in the opposite direction.
And the 2nd and 3rd attacks followed.
Judithâs sword appeared again.
Kwang!
Kwang!
Kwanng!
Loud bursts kept pouring out left and right.
The mouths of the swordsmen watching were wide open.
At first glance, it looked like random attacks, but they were blows that could turn the tables.
And with Ireneâs strength added to it, the roaring sound made the spectatorsâ bones tremble.
However, those with sharp eyes didnât just look at Irene.
Rather, they were focusing on Ian, who was taking those attacks.
So was Lance Peterson.
He retreated to a corner of the hall and mumbled with a serious expression.
âHe is predicting the sword in advanceâŠâ
It was exactly as Lance said.
Ian was anticipating Ireneâs next attacks.
The opponentâs eyes, muscles, joints, the swordâs angles, and countless other things were being observed. It was close to foresight.
The faster he analyzed the information, the faster he was prepared. After thinking ahead, he would be more relaxed and secure.
That was what Ian was doing.
With a smile, he said.
âThe attacks are too monotonous.â
Kwang!
âItâs nice that you are reversing the force during attacks. Itâs good for adding speed and strength. But to be honestâŠâ
Bang!
âItâs no different from gambling.â
Ian, who said that, lowered his sword.
The sword moved without warning, like a ghost, making Irene step back in surprise.
The speed at which the opponentâs sword was approaching was faster than his own.
However, the gaps in the forced transition from offense to defense were too large.
Ian, who came close, slashed the opponentâs sword and then closed the range.
His left hand hit Ireneâs stomach.
Puck!
âKuakâŠ!â
âVery interesting. Is that Brattâs swordsmanship? The degree of perfection is quite high too. Actually, I was going to hit your hand with my sword.â
âHuk, HuâŠâ
âBut the flow got cut off. Your transition from offense to defense is too clumsy. Even if the swordsmanship is changed, itâs only meaningful when the transition is smooth. Actual battles arenât tests.â
Ianâs teachings.
Irene didnât answer.
His sword was stopped for a moment, but he was fine.
If the previous blow had been a fist instead of the palm, he would have collapsed on the spot.
It wasnât upsetting.
Rather, it was enjoyable.
It was the first time he felt something while facing someone with a sword.
However, Irene wasnât aware of those feelings.
He was just focusing on the opponent in front of him.
â⊠Iâm coming again.â
Phat!
Irene, who was pushed back, rushed in again. The tip of his sword drew a new trajectory.