45: Chapter 36: The Teammate with Burst Damage Output 45: Chapter 36: The Teammate with Burst Damage Output The Bone Cleaver’s shoulders were draped with shoulder armor, which unscathedly blocked the Falling Phoenix Slash.

Aske landed steadily, side-stepped the Bone Cleaver’s charging punch, and vibrated his longsword, thrusting it upwards.

“Upper Section Rapid Thrust?” one of the guards exclaimed in shock, “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s Cloud Piercing,” Michael said.

“When he side-stepped to evade, his knees bent downwards, and when he lunged with his sword, he sprang back up quickly; that’s the classic movement of the Bavarian Lion Gun Technique, Cloud Piercing.”

“The spear technique of that Duke Lion Henry?” the guard expressed in disbelief, “Can a straight sword execute spear technique?”

“If the user’s understanding of both swordsmanship and spear technique has reached the pinnacle, it should be possible,” Michael said.

The longsword pierced into the chin of the Bone Cleaver’s helmet, sparking a bit and leaving only a faint white metal mark.

The Bone Cleaver swung his great sword furiously, the howling wind producing an extremely sharp sensation.

Even the barbarian locked in combat with the Bone Cleaver’s lieutenant felt a strong sense of danger and hastily retreated while fighting.

Aske suddenly crouched down, dodging the Bone Cleaver’s massive horizontal slash.

His hands’ straight sword flicked rapidly and agily in succession, clinking and clanking against the Bone Cleaver’s shin guards.

“Ancient Solomon Swordsmanship, Bat Cut,” complained the guard.

“That’s a bit cheeky.

That Varangian covered in armor is like a steel turtle.

Even with Achilles’ swordsmanship being brilliant, how could he penetrate with just a straight sword?”

Ever since Michael uncovered Aske’s local noble heritage, the other guards of imperial military nobility naturally grew fond of Aske.

They were now completely on his side.

“He’s probing,” Michael frowned and pondered.

“He must be looking for weak points in the Bone Cleaver’s armor, seeing if there’s anywhere that can be attacked.”

“Probing against an opponent of this calibre?

Isn’t that too dangerous?

Just one hit from the great sword is deadly, and beyond any help,” the guards discussed.

“Dangerous?

He’s already exchanged four moves with the opponent, where is the slightest danger?

It’s clearly effortless for him.”

“Look at him…

oops, Vibrating Wings+Continuous Stabbing, that’s the Eagle Soaring Sword.

If the Bone Cleaver didn’t have armor, he would have been dead several times over by now.”

“It’s a pity about the weapon, too bad.”

“Crescent Moon Slash?

No, it’s Crescent Moon Cross Slash!

That he can use great sword techniques with a straight sword is impressive.”

“How many more times do you think the Bone Cleaver will be split by his sword?”

“I’ve got it!” Michael exclaimed suddenly, slapping the table and drawing the attention of the surrounding guards, “He’s enraging the opponent!

Provoking him to reveal his flaws!”

In the Duel Arena, Aske once again dodged the great sword, slashing with Vibrating Wings on his longsword, striking the Bone Cleaver’s groin guard with the sound of metal clashing against metal.

“Ha, groin guard,” he said with a light laugh.

The Bone Cleaver had swung his huge sword more than a dozen times without even touching Aske’s clothes.

Furious at the taunt, a fire of rage ignited within him.

“Arrrrrgh!” roared the Bone Cleaver as he lifted his extra-large sword and fiercely slashed down with all his might at Aske before him.

He was determined to shred this dodging jester to pieces!

Aske side-stepped with a roll, followed by a rapid ground slide, instantly flashing behind his opponent.

The Bone Cleaver was still posed in the Mountain Crashing Strike with his body leaning forward, head drooping, showing a slit where the helmet and back armor connected at the nape of his neck.

Now’s the moment!

Aske’s longsword thrust swiftly into the gap, drawing out a long streak of blood.

The Bone Cleaver’s body collapsed onto the ground, under which a pool of blood gradually formed.

“Beautiful!” In the spectators’ box, the guards immediately burst into applause and cheers, more excited than if they had slain the opponent themselves.

The barbarian and the Bone Cleaver’s lieutenant were still fiercely battling, both nearly exhausted.

Aske approached with his sword, executing a charging straight stab.

The lieutenant hastily blocked, but Aske’s longsword grazed past his battle sword and stabbed into his throat.

“You were right,” the barbarian said, panting heavily, looking towards the Bone Cleaver lying in a blood pool with a wry smile, “Indeed, I am no match for you.

If we can get the Duel Gold Cup, the single-day champion will surely be you.”

“You flatter me,” Aske said, “Shall we continue?”

“No more,” said the barbarian, “but I’m taking a few heads.”

Hefting his axes, he charged towards the chaotic main battlefield.

Upon encountering a red-clothed gladiator, he would mercilessly push through; upon meeting a yellow-clothed gladiator, an axe chop came down, instantly killing any who were struck, and not pursuing those who dodged, quickly looking for the next opponent.

Aske followed behind to deliver final blows, those yellow-clothed gladiators who could dodge the barbarian’s axe found themselves like mice scurrying in front of a cat in his presence and were chopped down within a few strikes.

These yellow-clothed Franks were also staunch, none begging for mercy or throwing away their weapons until the last man was slain.

So the yellow team was entirely wiped out, the barbarian killed three, Aske three (including the “Bone Cleaver” team leader), and the rest shared three, two of which were slain by Saiotis.

Saiotis stood amidst the bodies of the yellow-clothed, his gaze filled with bewilderment.

One red-clothed gladiator had died in combat, so a spot on the red team was vacant, allowing his younger brother to join smoothly the next day.

But…

…

why did he feel so suffocated?

Wasn’t he the red team leader?

Why were all the highlights taken by those two?

And the yellow team’s “Bone Cleaver”, aren’t you the famous “Bone Cleaver”, an armored steel mammoth?

How did you also die at the hands of that chicken shit!!!

Despite his annoyance, he no longer had the drive to kill Aske and just sullenly signaled everyone to leave the field.

“That…” came the tentative voice of the announcer through the loudspeaker, “May I speak now?”

“Be brief,” another voice urged.

“Alright, then…” the host took a deep breath, “The winner is our Red Team!

Let everyone cheer for the victor!”

The audience erupted in cheers and screams.

Back in the underground training arena, Aske tossed the Caucasian Straight Sword onto the weapon rack and found a cushion to sit down on.

“You fought well,” the Barbarian walked over to him, arms folded, leaning against the wall, “By the way, I thought I heard…

you were trying to recruit that Bone Cleaver?

As a companion?”

“Yeah,” Aske said with a wry smile, “I was rejected.”

“Rejection is only natural,” the Barbarian said, “He’s the boss of the Yellow Team; suddenly you ask him to switch to the Red Team to be your underling, of course, he’d take it as mockery on the battlefield.”

Aske half-opened his mouth, then suddenly slapped his forehead.

That’s it, he hadn’t made himself clear.

“Actually, I wanted to invite him to join my team.” Aske explained, “The Gladiator thing was just a temporary gig.

My actual job outside, is the squad leader of a mercenary group.”

“Oh, my apologies.” the Barbarian said, “Does your team still need people?”

“Interested in being a mercenary?” Aske asked with a smile.

“To be honest, as long as there’s a fight, I don’t care whether I am a mercenary or a gladiator,” the Barbarian said, “But if it’s your mercenary group, I think I might be interested.”

“You do have good taste,” Aske produced a contract, “Here, sign this contract and join my team.

The terms are all written on it.”

The Barbarian, still with his arms folded, just looked at the contract in silence, then finally spoke:

“I can’t read.”

“That’s easy, just leave a thumbprint,” Aske said, “Do you want me to read it to you?”

“No need.

I trust you,” said the Barbarian as he removed his left arm armor and drew a slit on the edge of a nearby blade with his forefinger, then smeared the blood evenly onto the pad of his thumb and pressed it at the bottom of the contract.

This guy…

Aske couldn’t help but smile and admire the directness of using blood for ink.

“Ahem,” Aske introduced himself, “My name is Aske Lepeios Achilles, and you?”

“Such a long name.” the Barbarian said, “I can’t remember that.

I’ll just call you Aske.

Ah.

My name is Sigrdrifa from Helensing.”

“Are you male or female?” Aske finally asked the question that had puzzled him for a long time.

“Female,” Sigrdrifa, now Sigrdrifa, responded through her nose and nodded, “I never said I was male, did I?”

“Oh,” Aske nodded.

The same old truth: As someone who grew up in modern civilized society, Aske naturally wouldn’t harbor any discrimination against women.

Probably only elementary school boys generally think that it is very shameful and a loss of face to hang out with girls; so much so that they deliberately avoid interacting with girls, even drawing demarcation lines on the tables…

Aske was naturally past that youthful and naive age.

His criteria for teammates were simple: they had to be strong enough or have potential worth cultivating, regardless of gender.

Not to mention in the game, an NPC’s gender was just an attribute, with no evidence to suggest female NPCs were weaker than male ones.

“I’ve made up my mind.” Sigrdrifa said as she sat cross-legged next to him, propping up her knee with one hand and speaking boldly, “With our strength, a mercenary group will be invincible and renowned across nations.”

“When the time comes and the nobility of the kingdoms come to recruit us, we might even make it to Earl.

I’d prefer our fief to be near the North Sea.

I’ll take you out to sea to fish, have you ever seen a whale?”

“I have,” Aske thought, does seeing it online in a previous life count?

“Actually, there are already four people in my mercenary group.”

“Oh, to be part of your group, they must also be very formidable warriors,” Sigrdrifa said, her expression yearning.

“Counting myself, there are only about three warriors,” Aske said, “The other two are a healer and a mage…

We have a chat group, do you have a phone?”

“No,” Sigrdrifa said.

Aske felt the conversation was a bit awkward.

How are we supposed to communicate with an NPC who doesn’t even have a phone?

“By the way, are you a Transcendent?” he asked quietly.

“What’s a Transcendent?” Sigrdrifa seemed confused.

“I understand,” Aske nodded, so she was a silly girl who knew nothing but chopping people up.

This would actually make things easier, “Have you considered becoming a Transcendent?

You’d be even stronger.”

“Stronger than a Power Armor Knight?” Sigrdrifa inquired.

“Uh, they aren’t the same system.

Power Armor Knights are on the technology side, Extraordinary Powers are on the mystical side, they can’t really be compared.

Do you get it?”

“I don’t understand,” Sigrdrifa admitted.

“Well,” Aske reluctantly said, “Transcendents are a bit stronger.”

“Good,” Sigrdrifa nodded emphatically, “In that case, I want to become a Transcendent.”

“Great,” Aske sighed with relief.

If she had been a Purebloodist not willing to enter the Extraordinary World, then he really would have had no way to take her with him.

Willingness to take a Magic Potion made things much easier.