Chapter 122: Chapter 122

Mika was the most prominent apprentice in Ron’s current batch.

However, Mika harbored grand ambitions but possessed a remarkably shallow perspective. He had formed a ten-person squad destined to fall apart, perfectly missing the previous outdoor survival training, let alone the Domain of Chaos trial.

In Ron’s eyes, even if it wasn’t him, Mika probably couldn’t even defeat Justin in a life-or-death battle.

Justin had drawn blood during the outdoor survival training and tempered his willpower in the Domain of Chaos trial. If he somehow still lost to Mika, Ron would have to question whether the person who went into the wilderness was even Justin at all.

At this moment, seeing Ron acting so casually dismissive, Mika’s emotions were instantly provoked. In truth, Ron disdained using such psychological tactics against a mere apprentice like Mika.

But Mika was indeed far too green, completely unable to stomach what was merely a normal attitude rather than a calculated tactic. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes as he raised his sword and charged.

Ron shifted his foot slightly and simultaneously thrust his sword in retaliation. His blade struck late but arrived first, accurately hitting the weak point of Mika’s incoming longsword. Accompanied by a sharp, ringing vibration, the sword was knocked clean out of Mika’s hands.

“Oh…”

The surrounding crowd immediately erupted in startled gasps. Even Ron himself hadn’t expected his opponent to be so completely outmatched. Since that was the case, he certainly wasn’t going to give Mika any room to breathe.

Taking a swift step forward, he pressed the tip of his blade against the neck of a still-bewildered Mika. Even though the training sword lacked a sharpened point, taking a sudden jab like that was far from comfortable.

Mika instantly flushed crimson, making it impossible to tell whether the reaction was from the shame of being defeated in a single strike or the sudden blunt trauma to his throat.

Just then, Foss timely announced:

“Ron, wins!”

“Oh!”

Seeing Ron claim such a crisp and decisive victory, not only his friends and acquaintances but even many unfamiliar quasi-Knights cheered for him.

As Ron stepped down from the arena, he even spotted a few Formal Knights nodding at him with expressions of approval, and he nodded back in acknowledgment.

He soon spotted Jason waving enthusiastically at him from the crowd. At this moment, Jason appeared far more thrilled than the younger teens like Justin. Not content with just waving, he was even pulling at his companions beside him, excitedly narrating the play-by-play.

Faced with such fervent enthusiasm, Ron didn’t dare look in that direction any longer. He simply offered a brief wave before turning his focus to preparing for his next match.

Out of the thousand or so members of the Territory Guard, nearly everyone would fight at least one or two matches. Those with exceptional talent or those who caught the eye of the higher-ups would participate in more rounds. Even those who displayed impressive spur-of-the-moment performance might be granted temporary additional bouts.

After all, the purpose of this Martial Tournament was not to determine a final ranking, but to bolster the combat readiness of the personnel for the impending decisive battle. As long as someone possessed the ability to stand out from the crowd, what did it matter if they were given a few extra rewards?

Before Ron’s first match, Foss’s instruction to perform well hadn’t just been empty words. Truly outstanding performances genuinely meant a chance at better rewards.

And for an apprentice to have a shot at winning the Bloodline Secret Art he desired the most, he needed to secure at least ten consecutive victories.

In reality, many participants wouldn’t even get ten matches in total, let alone ten consecutive wins. A single loss or two would likely spell the end of their tournament run entirely!

Therefore, Ron fought to win every single match, striving with all his might to secure the Bloodline Secret Art.

…

He rested for roughly ten minutes; although his performance in the previous match meant he didn’t actually need that much time, he was still given the full duration to recover.

During these ten minutes, five or six pairs of apprentices took their turns in the arena. A match lasted about two minutes on average, which didn’t seem like much time, but there were over a hundred apprentices in this batch!

“Next match: Ron versus Jude!”

Hearing Foss’s announcement, Ron immediately grabbed his sword and stepped into the arena. He happened to see Jude emerging from a group of his companions. The two walked to the center of the ring and only then exchanged their first glance.

There was fighting intent, but it was sufficiently calm.

That alone made him far superior to Mika. Jude was, in fact, one of the apprentices who had participated in the Domain of Chaos trial alongside Ron.

Yet Ron’s gaze remained as placid as still water, as if nothing and no one at this moment could cause even the slightest ripple in his mind.

“Come, let the sword do the talking!” Ron repeated the exact same opening line he had used against Mika.

Jude responded in kind, raising his sword to point at Ron and uttering a single word: “Good.”

Without a moment of hesitation, the two began closing the distance rapidly. The gap shrank from ten paces to about three in the blink of an eye, placing them well within striking range of their longswords.

For two swordsmen, this distance was exceptionally close and dangerously tense. Yet neither Ron nor Jude seemed to realize it.

Ron thrust his sword straight forward. Jude swung his blade to deflect Ron’s strike, using the momentum to accelerate a slash toward Ron’s shoulder. Ron’s expression remained utterly unchanged. He immediately raised the bracer on his left arm to block the blow while simultaneously driving his right hand forward to thrust at Jude once more.

Two metallic scrapes rang out as both combatants used their bracers to deflect the other’s attack. Jude chose not to retreat, opting instead to engage Ron in close-quarters grappling.

The corner of Ron’s mouth ticked upward. “You noticed? Too bad it won’t help!”

He shifted his stance once more, abandoning any pretense of winning through finesse. Instead, he opted to overwhelm with brute strength. Sweeping his blade horizontally, he rammed it straight into his opponent. Because Jude was locked in such close proximity, he had no time to bring his longsword up to defend.

Ron’s sheer physical power sent Jude flying backward. Even as he was launched through the air, Jude fought to control his posture, keeping his sword raised to ward off any follow-up attacks.

But having already revealed his explosive power and speed, there was no way Ron would let Jude land safely and regroup!

His rear foot stomped fiercely against the ground. The raw force exploding in that single instant sent a sharp twinge of pain shooting through his own ankle.

Yet in the next heartbeat, propelled by that erupting kinetic force, Ron’s body shot forward, vastly outpacing Jude’s backward momentum.

Bypassing Jude’s hasty sword guard, Ron jabbed his blade firmly into his opponent’s chest. Jude, after all, did not possess the thick hide and robust physique of a Wastelander. Unable to endure the heavy impact, he let out a muffled grunt and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Seeing Jude lying motionless on the ground, Ron finally retracted his sword and stood quietly, waiting for Foss to declare the result.

Naturally, if this had been a real battle, he would have already delivered a killing blow. After all, a jab to the chest from an unsharpened tip wasn’t actually fatal.

If Jude had been wearing metal armor instead of standard leather armor, he probably wouldn’t have felt a thing and would have bounced right back to his feet.

“Ron, wins!”

Hearing the verdict, Ron let out a breath and stepped forward to check on Jude’s injuries. By the time he reached his side, Jude finally drifted back to consciousness. The very first sentence out of his mouth was:

“You’re absolutely ruthless! Just now, I genuinely thought I was going to die.”

“Couldn’t be helped. You’re too strong, and I didn’t want to let you drain my stamina. I had to end it quickly.”

“Sigh, hearing you say that…”

Jude shook his head, choosing not to finish his sentence. Changing the subject, he asked, “I really don’t know how you train. Is innate talent really that important?”

Before Ron could open his mouth, Jude shook his head once more. “Don’t say it. I’m afraid of taking another blow to my ego. Help me down, will you? We can’t hold up the next match.”

“Yeah.”