Chapter 163. Prolonged Struggle
When the people present saw Fran send that soldier flying with a single blow, it imdiately threw the whole place into turmoil.
Quite a few n dressed as soldiers broke away from the crowd, seemingly intending to report the matter to their superiors.
Among the crowd, one man gathered his courage and walked over to the soldier sprawled on the ground, pressing a hand to his chest to feel for a heartbeat.
After checking, he shook his head at the others, indicating that the soldier was already dead.
That made everyone present swallow hard, not daring to look at Fran on the black horse.
At that point, the crowd felt there was nothing more to see and had just begun to disperse when, from one direction, the people were suddenly shoved aside, opening up a path.
Through the gap in the crowd, Andrew made his way over to the fallen soldier and frowned deeply.
Then he lifted his head, staring straight at Fran seated atop the black horse, one hand already resting on the hilt of the longsword at his waist.
“Do you know what you’ve done?”
Andrew shouted the question at Fran, his voice full of force.
“I killed soone who provoked . Nothing more.”
Fran showed him no courtesy at all and answered directly.
“Good...” Andrew drew the sword at his waist and pointed it straight at Fran, his tone calm.
“Since you killed one of my n... that can also be regarded as a provocation against , correct? Get down from the horse. I’ll give you ti to prepare.”
Andrew was a squad leader under Knight Eric. The soldier Fran had just killed had belonged to his squad.
He had stepped forward to face Fran purely because he had no choice. One of his n had been beaten into that state, so no matter what, he had to draw his sword and confront her. That was Knight Eric’s requirent for them.
If he failed to do so, then his days as squad leader were likely over. Knight Eric had no liking for cowardly squad leaders.
From the mangled state of the soldier on the ground, Andrew already knew he did not have much chance of winning.
The man’s face was so battered that his original features were almost unrecognizable. Only his build and the markings on his clothes let Andrew identify him as one of his own n.
Combined with the leather glove on Fran’s hand, already stained red, it was not hard to deduce that Fran had dropped the soldier with a single punch.
As a squad leader, he had learned two battle techniques and had also received a Breathing Technique passed down by Knight Eric. It could be said that his strength was absolutely beyond that of an ordinary soldier.
But looking at the soldier’s mangled face, he knew that in this battle, his chances of victory were slim.
Fran let out a derisive chuckle at the sight, swung herself down from the horse, and drew her own sword.
Only then did Andrew realize that Fran was sowhat short.
He had already had that vague impression while she was on horseback, but once she leapt down, the difference in height beca strikingly clear.
Looking at Fran, who was nearly half a head shorter than him, the sense of facing a formidable enemy in Andrew’s heart weakened a little.
At that mont, the soldiers behind him also seed to notice Fran’s appearance and imdiately began jeering.
“Shorty, how’d you even get onto that horse?!”
“Black rat, you’re this short and you still dare duel our captain?”
“Our captain’s got the title of ‘God of Duels’!”
The soldiers behind Andrew were all his subordinates. Seeing him about to duel soone, they behaved just as they had before when he had “sparred” with other squad leaders, cheering him on loudly.
Andrew said nothing. He was long accustod to his soldiers acting like this behind him. It could also rile up the opponent a little and perhaps provoke them into making an irrational move.
But Fran rely smiled, ignoring the commotion behind him. She lowered her sword until its point indicated the ground, then crooked a finger at Andrew, signaling for him to attack.
Though Andrew was sowhat puzzled that Fran had not assud a proper defensive stance, his ample experience in duels told him this was an excellent opportunity to strike.
Almost the very next second after Fran gave the signal, Andrew suddenly moved. Raising his sword, gripping it in both hands, he charged straight at Fran and brought down a heavy slash.
Fran lightly sidestepped toward the opposite side from the raised sword, evading the blow.
Andrew’s sword instantly shifted direction in midair and swept sideways toward Fran.
This ti, Fran simply turned her sword upright and, from an angle that should have made it difficult to exert strength, directly blocked that heavy, forceful strike.
Even Andrew himself had not expected that attack to be blocked. It was precisely because Fran carried no shield that he had used such a heavy blow.
The attack being stopped threw Andrew slightly off balance, yet Fran did not seize the opening to attack. She rely stood there, waiting for him to recover.
The surrounding crowd erupted into thunderous cries. So supported Fran, so supported Andrew. All of them shouted excitedly, urging the two to fight more fiercely.
Earlier, when Fran had simply sent that guard flying, the spectators had not even had ti to get worked up before it was already over.
But now, with ample ti to prepare before the fight began, the crowd’s emotions had been whipped up completely. With every exchange, loud cheers burst forth.
Andrew launched several more powerful rapid attacks, but every one of them was easily blocked by Fran.
By now, Andrew also understood that his attacks were not going to accomplish much. So he stopped where he stood, letting the crowd’s shouting die down a little before asking,
“Why aren’t you attacking?”
Fran flicked her sword in a flourish and slowly approached as she answered,
“I’m looking for a suitable angle.”
The mont she finished speaking, Fran struck without warning, bringing her sword down toward Andrew’s head. Andrew had to use every ounce of strength he had just to block that single blow.
Before he could even catch his breath, he realized that Fran’s steps had not halted at all. She had rushed straight toward him.
Andrew failed to react. And even if he had reacted, his speed would never have allowed him to respond so quickly.
He only felt an imnse force slam into his chest, snapping several of his ribs and sending his whole body flying backward, crashing directly into the soldiers who had been shouting support for him.
The crowd instantly exploded into a fresh wave of wild cheers. So people even threw their hats into the air.
Fran waited where she stood, sweeping her gaze across the crowd once, thinking that surely no one else would co looking to duel her now, and turned to walk back.
But just as she was about to swing herself onto the horse, the crowd’s cheers abruptly faltered, almost cutting off entirely.
At the sa ti, the heavy clashing sound of tal armor rang out down the street, making everyone around hold their breath and fall silent.
The newcor was a man clad in dark silver armor. Upon his shoulder was the emblem of a lion poised to spring, marking him as a true knight.
“So it was you who beat them?”
Knight Eric’s face was hidden behind his visor, making his expression impossible to read, but his voice was low, as though he was in an extrely foul mood today.
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