CHAPTER 1549: CHAPTER 335: THE COLLISION BETWEEN COMPLEXITY AND SIMPLICITY

The sounds of limbs and weapons colliding echoed one after another, so rapidly that all the noises almost merged into a single string. In between the lightning-fast exchanges of attack and defense, the stark difference in the fighting styles of the two combatants was clear to see.

Pannis’s attacks and defenses were complex and ever-changing, as dazzling as a stage performance, with a variety of movements that dazzled the onlooker. Often, there would even be superfluous actions that seemed like aimless wastes of precious time in combat. But this was only superficial, for those who looked closely could discern that there was an unseen thread connecting all of his actions in the background. With a mere shake of one end of this thread, every seemingly extraneous movement became part of an attack, perhaps even its most crucial element. Swapping out different items in his hands, moving different parts of his body, even the simple act of blinking—each, in the next moment, might seem like a feint, but could suddenly turn into a lethal tactic. Thus, amidst his bewildering flurry of moves, no one could predict what Pannis intended to do, from where he would launch his attack, or even if his every action had significance—until the fangs were bared and the attack descended upon them, leaving his opponents to realize, too late, the true purpose behind his seemingly meaningless actions.

In stark contrast, Nellie’s approach to combat was significantly different. If Pannis appeared as a performer showcasing tricks on a bustling stage, then Nellie fought like an artisan, focused on forging in a spartan workshop: no messy actions, no intricate effects, just the simplest, most monotonous movements from start to finish. One hammer blow, then another, and another, each so monotonous it could bore the onlooker. Yet, it was their simplicity that bred focus, and from that focus, efficiency. In the hands of a master forger, these tedious motions would form a perfect creation. Likewise, in the hands of a master of combat, the same simple, repetitive motions turned into the deadliest forms of assault, leaving the enemy with no defense. Like Nellie now, with her punches, kicks, steps, and swings of her weapon; every move she made was direct and straightforward, immediately revealing her intent to the opponent. Lacking any hint of deception, these simple actions carried enough power, speed, and accuracy to render defense futile—no matter the foresight, no one could stop her assaults from tearing through everything.

The two fighters, once the closest of companions, had now diverged to two extremes in their styles of combat—one embracing complexity with all their might, then using a peerless intellect to weave these intricate actions into a net, while the other pursued absolute simplicity, focusing on a single point and leaving all decisions up to the instincts of the body to crush the enemy in the most direct manner. These starkly contrasting fighting styles, when wielded side by side, complemented each other, leaving foes bewildered amidst their swift transitions; but against each other, they collided as two equally effective and battle-tested approaches to combat.

Which was superior? No one could say for sure, and even this battle wouldn’t provide an answer, since fundamentally, the two were not on the same level. The fight might seem well-matched, tit-for-tat, but Pannis knew he was clearly at a disadvantage, becoming increasingly passive in the exchange. The left side, always the left side—all her attacks, without exception, came from the left. Nellie’s simple and efficient style meant she fixated relentlessly on Pannis’s left side, giving no quarter.

With a "bang," Pannis dodged Nellie’s overhead spear strike but could not escape the punch that followed. The armor-clad fist landed heavily on Pannis’s left shoulder, and amidst the dull thud, the faint sound of cracking bones suggested that the blow had dealt a significant injury to his shoulder. Moreover, it wasn’t the first time. In the several dozen seconds since Pannis had severed his own arm, such sounds had occurred several times, meaning that, although outwardly he appeared mostly unscathed aside from the missing limb, his insides were already in chaos.

Unlike the previous instances, however, Pannis now, for the first time, chose to retreat. Whether the power of the punch forced him back uncontrollably or he intentionally backed away to diffuse its force, he retreated for the first time in dozens of seconds, staggering back four or five meters before nearly falling. He managed to steady himself with assistance from his right hand. Nellie, however, did not immediately pursue the fight and instead halted, her instinct to control her body also harboring its worries. She noticed that the "Hunting Arrow," the most threatening weapon to her, had vanished like a magic trick from Pannis’s hand during his moment of staggering; it was hidden away, whereabouts unknown.

A visible threat isn’t necessarily the scariest—it’s the unseen ones that pose the greatest danger, especially when they can prove fatal. Thus, even if it were just the instinct for life controlling her body, Nellie hesitated for an instant. But it was just that—an instant. Opportunities in combat are too precious to pass up. Therefore, in the next moment, Nellie resumed her strides and pursued Pannis from behind.

What Pannis did next could only be described as ’bizarre,’ utterly incomprehensible. Under Nellie’s pursuit, he suddenly turned around, exposing his almost undefended back to her without running away to dodge; he seemed to be waiting for her to collide into him, simply tilting his head to the side to avoid the spear that otherwise would have penetrated his skull.

Nellie couldn’t discern Pannis’s intention, but that didn’t stop her from making her own decision based on the situation at hand. According to her judgment, if the current trend continued, Pannis would crash into her embrace—a potential purpose of his. So, without surprise, she halted her forward charge, opting instead to punch with force. Even if Pannis did indeed crash into her, he would be knocked flying by her blow.

It was only then that Nellie noticed a long gash on the right leg of Pannis’s pants, the fabric soaked through with blood—a severe injury that had gone unnoticed until now. Of course, this wasn’t her focus; what mattered was the incomprehensible motion Pannis was making with his blood-drenched right leg.

As Nellie prepared her punch, stopping in place, Pannis suddenly twisted his torso and turned around. His right leg, like a raised whip, lashed out with all his might toward Nellie’s waist, striking fiercely.