"In actual combat, we usually don't have many opportunities to fight one-on-one. Even if we do, we won't be able to use overly complicated techniques."
At the Scadivow Base terminal building, an alloy frawork supported a vast, bright space. The previously arranged service counters, baggage scanners, and conveyors had all been removed, replaced with rows of foldable chairs. Tian Xingjian stood on a temporary central control platform, tapping on the keyboard to switch the virtual screens to combat training footage, while explaining basic control techniques to the bandit army soldiers.
"Thus, the techniques we need to master are those that kill our opponents as quickly as possible and offer the highest survival rate for ourselves. Earlier, I discussed the improvent of arc sprint techniques. Now, let's look at a typical Level 1 control pattern and how to combine it with a Second-level basic sliding side kick..."
In the massive terminal hall, nearly a thousand bandit army cha soldiers from different factions were intently listening to Fatty's theoretical class on cha controls. The sunlight filtered through the twenty-ter-high glass walls of the hall, enveloping the blue-uniford warriors in a halo of floating dust particles.
In the quiet space, aside from Fatty's voice, it was so silent that you could hear a pin drop; not even a single cough was heard. The ch Knights were intently scribbling on their control manuals while listening, their eyes fixed on the virtual screens with concentration and excitent.
Fatty's voice echoed throughout the hall. The combat scenes on the virtual screens were frozen in ti. The warriors occasionally glanced at their equally focused comrades, frequently feeling a sense of surrealism.
Years, even decades of diligent practice and hard work—they once thought their lives would be a series of steps, learning from countless predecessors in the trajectory from chanical Warrior to chanical Knight, to chanical Lord.
Becoming a chanical God, standing at the pinnacle of the Free World, had once been the dream of each one of them.
However, when war ca, they realized how fragile they were as ch Knights in this chaotic world.
Without long-range firepower and energy shields, the private cha, with its flashy or practical techniques, was stripped of its formidable shell in the face of fierce firepower. Society's familiar forms crumbled in an instant, and the skills they were proud of beca worthless.
If they hadn't co here, the ch Knights believed their lifelong beliefs would have already crumbled.
Fortunately, they ca here.
In these recent days, what they learned here was sothing they had never imagined before. They never knew that these techniques could be controlled in other ways. They also didn't realize that when they unknowingly climbed the mountain guided by Fatty, those basic control skill records, which once seed to be the limit, could be so easily broken.
Everything felt like a dream.
Not long ago, their Sect Master led them into this base, then ordered them to forget their forr identities and beco part of the bandit army. They were assigned to various squads, repeating different kinds of training every day.
When they barely slept three to five hours before being driven like ducks to the training field. When they chanically crawled and rolled in the mud like fools. When the instructors' roars exploded beside their ears, tightening their nerves to a blank state. No one could see the future clearly.
Later, these ch Knights gathered at Scadivow Base saw sixteen hundred selected comrades being called into this imnse "classroom." At that mont, everyone was just numb, not caring why those comrades were called in.
The bandit army's selection seed to have no specific standards. Among those sixteen hundred, the best were a few chanical Commanders, and the worst were Outer Disciples who had only trained for two or three years. It seed these people were rely more serious and diligent than others in those tedious trainings.
The remaining ch Knights continued their exhausting training, watching one group of chosen comrades enter and exit, then being separated to another training field.
Until a few days later, during cha combat training, when they were effortlessly defeated by comrades who were previously much lesser than them did they understand what had happened.
They would never forget those comrades who were first to enter the classroom and receive cha control training—their bright, fervent eyes. They also rember sitting in their defeated chas, overwheld by incredulity. From that day, they stood straighter, ran faster, and tried harder, all to have a chance to sit in that classroom!
"Watch my movents carefully," Fatty sat in the simulation training machine, the cara lens focused on his control stick and virtual keyboard, "When ending an arc sprint, we need to change the cha's inertial direction; otherwise, the side kick will turn into a straight kick. We all know this, but during the process of changing force direction, regular control protocols usually require downshifting the engine to boost, making directional control very cumberso. However, if we do it this way..."
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