When the duel began, neither of the two took immediate action, instead slowly closing the distance between them to just a few meters.

The soldier from Catachan, after standing firm, shifted a few steps to the left and right and spoke up:

"I intended to fight you in the Catachan way, but you seem interesting, so it's fine to go head-to-head once in a while."

As soon as he finished this sentence, his powerful body moved without preparation. Although his physical capabilities were still inferior to Zhang Ge's, his force application technique was extremely refined, allowing him to explode with speed that was even slightly quicker than Zhang Ge's in that moment.

However, just as Zhang Ge instinctively moved his gaze to focus on the long blade that moved with a slicing wind as the Catachan soldier swung it, the other leg that followed his initial step suddenly lifted.

A clod of dirt that had been ground up during those few steps was propelled forward at high speed, accurately smashing towards Zhang Ge's eyes.

Seeing this, Zhang Ge thought to himself, I knew this would happen, but he did not panic. Instead, he moved back a step, increasing the distance while gauging that his sword blade was slightly longer than the other's. He decided against meeting the attack head-on. Instead, he sidestepped to avoid the path of the thrown clod and prepared to strike first.

However, what followed did not develop as he expected.

The Catachan suddenly came to a halt, and the trajectory of his long blade abruptly changed, bringing it down with force to strike the clod of dirt that had passed in front of him.

A sound of something delicate being cut echoed from the mud clod.

Hearing that sound, which should not have come from a clod, Zhang Ge realized that the soldier hadn't just moved it; there was something hidden in the sole of his boot, which he had cleverly integrated into the flying clod.

But it was too late.

A strong, irritating gas burst forth, far more intense than the burning pain from pepper spray, and even with Zhang Ge's physical condition, every exposed part of his skin felt as if it were being scorched.

He could endure it, but it wasn't great either, as both his sense of smell and sight were compromised.

In the burning pain, Zhang Ge closed his eyes and did not act rashly.

The Catachan soldier was closer to the mud clod, and he was likely affected as well.

No, wait.

What was inside that thing didn't necessarily have to be gas; it could easily be some kind of liquid that vaporized quickly when exposed to air, which meant the Catachan could have angled the blade to spray the liquid at himself during the instant of the strike, while he would not be affected.

If that were the case, attempting to play a static defense strategy with an imagined enemy who also lost their sight and smell would only play into his hand.

Thinking of this, Zhang Ge had no time to hesitate. He shifted his stance and took the initiative, swinging his sword toward the direction where he remembered his opponent was located.

As expected, he missed.

When did he change direction? There wasn't even the sound of wind or footsteps.

Then the Catachan suddenly praised him, saying:

"Not bad; you managed to guess this step."

That was information.

Judging the position from the direction of the voice and deducing the distance based on the volume of the sound.

But Zhang Ge did not fall for this trap.

This was an opening deliberately presented to him; that voice was likely controlled in terms of volume intentionally. Even if he were to analyze it, he would only end up calculating an incorrect distance. He realized what his opponent was attempting to do, which was to lure his attention with this method.

Indeed, Zhang Ge had no intention of hitting this Catachan from the beginning. His movement was merely to open a window for advance in front of him.

With a sudden burst of strength from his legs, he shot forward like an arrow released from a bow.

Since the Catachan didn't play by the rules, Zhang Ge had no need to maintain any semblance of honor.

Temporarily retreating might be shameful, but it was effective.

In that brief clash of movements, Zhang Ge keenly sensed that the Catachan's explosive actions were not much faster than his own; if he ran at full speed, the Catachan would also have to exert himself fully to pursue.

Transitioning into a dynamic chase in which both were moving would at least allow Zhang Ge's auditory sense to come into play.

Of course, if the opponent could still maintain control over their movement with all their strength, ensuring they made no noise, then Zhang Ge would have to admit defeat.

Fortunately, Zhang Ge was not dealing with that kind of freak.

As the sounds of pursuit revealed themselves behind him for an instant, Zhang Ge turned around without hesitation to deliver a strike. The sensation of his sword meeting metal sent a firm pulse back to his wrist, and sparks flew alongside the clang of steel.

Coincidentally, after this initial clash, neither of them made any further movements, instead continuing to test each other's limits with repeated clashes.

In the first five exchanges, the Catachan's exceptionally cunning swordsmanship left Zhang Ge with several superficial cuts, but by the twentieth exchange, both sides were becoming more evenly matched. It wasn't until the fiftieth clash that Zhang Ge finally managed to deflect the Catachan's blade, landing a thrust that struck the Catachan's wrist.

At that moment, Zhang Ge could barely regain a flicker of vision amidst the sharp pain.

This did not mean that the Catachan was any less skilled in frontal combat than Zhang Ge, but rather that the Catachan specialized in hit-and-run tactics, emphasizing different aspects of combat.

Long-term training in distinct fields developed subtle differences in muscle memory and muscle groups, leading to having difficulties when clashing with equal-level opponents in the areas they were less favored in.

This was the situation the Catachan was currently facing.

Once Zhang Ge regained his vision, the advantage became increasingly apparent, and the physical strength brought by his superior condition began to show. Until the final strike, the Catachan's Ceramite Long Blade was crushed by Zhang Ge's Blunt Sword with a crisp sound.

Even though the Catachan immediately tried to close in and grapple again, the chasm between wielding a weapon and bare-handed combat decided the outcome with that next strike.

Zhang Ge restrained his force just shy of striking the Catachan's neck with his sword, smiling lightly as the referee announced the final outcome before coolly exiting the arena.

This battle made Zhang Ge renowned, and in the subsequent series of duels, he continued to defeat powerful opponents from various legions in succession. Among them, one Kasrkin Veteran left a deep impression on Zhang Ge, delivering even more pressure than the Catachan.

If the Catachan struck swiftly from a tricky angle, the Kasrkin's technique felt like a fortress, an all-rounded combat prowess that systematically usurped victory based on incremental advantages.

Had Zhang Ge not learned a trick or two from the Catachans, dishing out a faceful of mud, it would be hard to say who would have emerged victorious.

After defeating opponent after opponent, only after clinching victory in the final match did Zhang Ge suddenly return to consciousness, amidst the throngs of officers and soldiers clamoring for him with waving service caps and flooding the arena, where he remembered his initial purpose.

Wait, I came here looking for a worthy opponent who could accidentally kill me, didn't I?

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