The Third Strike

"It's fine." Shao Xuan could never have imagined that a recruit would dare to hustle a source energy block from the Erasers' top combatant at their very first meeting. Taking Han Qingyu's words at face value, he gently reassured him, "Don't be nervous. When we get up there, I'll only defend, not attack, and take three strikes from you... Just unleash everything you've got." At this moment, the warm, smiling Captain of the Golden Eraser had no idea that one of his soldiers—specifically, that captain surnamed Qin—was about to lose a full blue crystal source energy block that was clearly an official expense, yet could never be reimbursed by the squad. Since Qin Guowen had chosen to remain silent right now, bringing it up later would be awkward, and explaining it would be troublesome—it would be all too easy for his captain and squadmates to realize he had chickened out on the spot... Thus, Captain Little Qin would likely just have to suck it up. And so, on Briefing Day, the day before the Class of 1990 recruits were to leave camp, at 8:20 AM, the Eraser Combat Training Base's simulated combat arena witnessed the Golden Eraser's captain stepping onto the stage in person. After equipping his device, Shao Xuan walked a dozen meters or so, found the steps leading up to the stage, and climbed them. Yes, he walked. Even as the entire army's number one combatant, he didn't stage an appropriately dashing entrance, nor did he activate his device to vault straight onto the ring. Although the Golden Eraser was exceedingly wealthy, and Captain Shao looked like a magnate who casually tossed a recruit a source energy block and could waive an old comrade's energy debt over three bowls of liquor... he himself still maintained the most frugal habits when it came to source energy consumption, meticulous down to the last drop. "You really have no fear of death, do you?" Han Qingyu entrusted the two stowed medals and the bonus source energy block to Wen Jifei for safekeeping. Wen Jifei whispered in his ear. "I didn't mean to do it either. I was originally just asking where the source energy blocks from the medal reward were, but by some fluke of misunderstanding he gave me one, and I just couldn't help myself," Han Qingyu explained in a low voice, preparing to take the stage. "Just exchange a few blows up there and stop. Say you're completely humbled, that you revere him... then swear brotherhood with him," Wen Jifei suggested from behind. "That's how it always goes on TV. After that, we can eat his food, drink his booze, and spend his money." Han Qingyu turned his head and offered a faint smile. Turning back around, his expression had calmed, his eyes burning with absolute focus as he entered combat mode... In truth, he deeply cherished this opportunity—the chance to strike at the Erasers' top combatant. In this hidden world behind the scenes, he had long understood that strength equated to life... and not merely his own. The scene at the Cleansing Faction stronghold when facing the human-monkeys had hammered that truth home, making the urge within him all the more urgent. And when it came to improving his strength, if source energy blocks built the foundation, then actual combat technique and experience were the stories constructed upon it. Han Qingyu knew he possessed a fine, sturdy foundation, and he wanted to ascend to the high floors—even higher floors. Hopefully no one was named Gao Lou. Well, since Yan Shu had written that line centuries ago, hopefully no parents had been irresponsible enough to name a child that. ... Up on the ring, the two took their places at opposite ends. "Ready?" Shao Xuan asked. "Yes." Han Qingyu nodded. For the upcoming three strikes, Han Qingyu intended to give everything he had, holding back only his greatest combat trump card and secret: the joint surge of liquid source energy and device source energy. *Hum.* Both men engaged their devices at the same time. Han Qingyu drew his blade, holding one straight sword in his right hand while the other blade remained slung across his back over his right shoulder. By now, he was fully capable of doing what he had seen that veteran do on Regiment 425's Tradition Night—using source energy to make the dead iron straight sword launch itself from his back. Yet he had never done so. Every single time, he reached back and drew it manually, steady and honest. Shao Xuan likewise made the motion to draw a blade from his back... except the moment his palm closed around the hilt, he paused. Turning toward the recruits in the spectator stands, he smiled and said, "If I stay this understated the whole time, would it be a bit of a disappointment to you all?" With that, he drew his sword. *Chzz-chzz-chzz...* This was not the sound of a dead iron straight sword scraping against the uniform's right-angle studs; it was the crackle of electric arcs. "Holy... shit." Across all four sides of the stands, the veterans were relatively composed, only clenching their fists in excitement, but the recruits had completely erupted... On the blade of the dead iron straight sword Shao Xuan had just drawn, four or five blue electric arcs resembling miniature bolts of lightning flickered and shifted along each side. The Eraser Ninth Army's top combatant... what terrifying source energy control! "All right, you've seen it, and that's enough. This is useful for penetrating a Great Spike's armor, but it's actually a huge waste of source energy." Shao Xuan smiled as he finished speaking. The blue arcs vanished from the blade, returning it to ordinary steel. Sinking into silence along with the blade was the entire combat arena. Shao Xuan held his sword pointed diagonally at the ground and glanced up at Han Qingyu. Han Qingyu swept his sword back, and with a rush of displaced air, burst forward explosively. There was no flourish—only speed, pure and simple. So fast that the sound of rubber soles skidding on concrete was swallowed by the rush of wind whipped up by his frame; so fast that he arrived in an instant; so fast that what seemed like an ordinary downward slash had actually shifted trajectory three times mid-stroke. *Clang!* The collision of two swords rang out. If Han Qingyu's first strike merely appeared unadorned while earning the admiration of the seasoned veterans who understood what they were seeing, then Shao Xuan's blade was truly simple. Everyone present, recruits included, could clearly follow his movement and the arc of his sword. He merely stood in place, moving nothing but his arm. With an unhurried upward flick, he accurately met the edge of Han Qingyu's descending blade. In the very next instant, Han Qingyu's entire frame was sent skidding backward across the concrete floor, his soles scraping harshly against the surface in an effort to find purchase. Only with great difficulty did he manage to halt right at the edge of the ring. *This...* He almost seemed utterly fragile, or so nearly every recruit thought. Up on the stage, however, Shao Xuan spoke in earnest. "Not bad." "What was not bad about that?" a recruit below asked. "He didn't lose his grip on the sword!" a veteran answered. Yes. Keeping hold of the sword was already remarkable, for the timing and point of impact of Shao Xuan's strike had landed right at the weakest point of Han Qingyu's surge and forward momentum, cutting through it like a blade parting a wave. Yet Han Qingyu's surge hadn't been severed; he had reined it in. Otherwise, both he and his sword would have been sent flying. "Second strike," Shao Xuan urged, granting Han Qingyu no time to recover. Han Qingyu charged once more. Dashing to Shao Xuan's right flank, he leaned low, holding his sword at roughly a sixty-degree angle to his body as he dragged the blade through a sweep aimed at Shao Xuan's right flank... *Isn't that just a basic offensive move?* the recruits thought. Every single one of them knew how to execute this sweeping slash; at most, they simply couldn't move as fast as Han Qingyu. Then, with a roar of gasps trailing in the blade's wake, the scene shifted. The instant Han Qingyu's body crossed Shao Xuan's, simultaneous with the sweeping cut of his right hand, his left hand drew the second sword from over his right shoulder, following through in one fluid motion to slash toward Shao Xuan's neck. "Good." Shao Xuan took a step back to his left, twisting his torso to evade the strike as he murmured in praise. "Third strike," Han Qingyu called out. By the time the words left his mouth, he was already behind Shao Xuan. Without looking back, he kicked off his heels and hurled his entire body straight backward, raising both swords level to slash into Shao Xuan's left flank from behind. The inverted-V charge. Not long ago at the Cleansing Faction stronghold, Han Qingyu had used this very move to kill that defected lieutenant in a single blow. With a collective roar, the recruits finally shot to their feet, for only with this strike did they truly realize how formidable their peer on the stage was. This strike surpassed the capability—or even the imagination—of almost every recruit among them. *A pity...* A pity that the man Han Qingyu faced was simply too strong. Shao Xuan showed only a flicker of surprise; the sword in his right hand shifted in tandem with his body, already checking the edges of both Han Qingyu's blades. Simultaneously, he took several swift strides in the opposite direction, opening up distance. Three strikes completed... "Hm?" *Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh...* The sound of an iron blade spinning through the air. Not completed. The recruits made no sound, thoroughly bewildered, but this time a great many veterans sprang to their feet. Because at this moment, Han Qingyu was missing one dead iron straight sword from his hands... Not many had seen when or how that blade had vanished. Yet all of them could see it now—spinning through empty air at blinding speed, tracing a wide semi-circle to slice toward Shao Xuan's back from his rear flank... Right upon him.