Chapter 13: The Beginning of the Journey (Part II)

Distraught, Arthur, dragging his limp body back to the dormitory, sees his roommate Lancelot waiting.

"What's wrong???," Lancelot asked worriedly.

"I don't know, I can only watch it. The boy did not hear his friend clearly, so he replied absentmindedly. His answer was surprisingly correct.

"Here. Lancelot pulled out a bag, "This is the money I've saved over the years, it's not much, but it's enough for you to spend a while." You'll have to take care of yourself in the future. Arthur was stunned for a while, and then he figured out the reason why Lancelot gave him money, so he flatly refused: "Forget about the money, things are not what you imagined." "Isn't it?" the blonde boy was confused.

Arthur's frown loosened in relief. He paused for a moment and uttered a deep sentence: "No matter what happens in the future, no matter how crazy this shijie changes - Lancelot, you will always be my best friend." "Why did you suddenly say such a thing?" said Lancelot, embarrassed, "Isn't this kind of thing taken for granted? You have been my friend since I was a child, and this bad relationship must continue." Arthur just shook Lancelot's hand and said calmly, "Lancelot, please remember, I will remember you as a friend at all times." One day, when I become the strongest swordsman, when I have a liliang who can change Shijie, I will come and grant a wish for you. Go to the soup and go to the fire, and do not hesitate. "Well, I'm looking forward to that day. Lancelot said this, but he didn't expect anything-

Five years ago, in the depths of winter, in Wales, on a square in some ghetto.

The falling snowflakes were insignificant, isolating the two teenagers from Shijie.

"Forget it, forget it, it's better to practice here today," the blonde boy asked tremblingly, looking at the pale boy.

"No, go ahead, Lancelot. The pale-faced boy got up from the snow and wiped the blood and snow from his face, "Lancelot, since you are [the strongest], I must not be weaker than you in a fight. If I can't even win, I can't do what I'm going to do. "You still want to beat me even though you know I'm [the strongest]?" asked the blonde boy puzzled, in his eyes, everything the other party did was nothing but useless work, and it was all illogical stupidity.

This blonde boy is the son of a great swordsman, he is talented, handsome, and extraordinary, and his whole person is chic and generous. Although he is only a teenager, his martial arts skills have already reached the point of perfection.

And the pale-faced young man in front of him was short and thin, and his appearance was unremarkable, even stupid. Although he was already a teenager, he was still powerless, so thin that he looked like he would fall down when the wind blew. He was even able to hold the wooden sword he used for training with great difficulty.

The pale boy, his thin body, braving the cold winter night wind, got up again and again, wanting to challenge the blonde boy.

The handsome blonde boy, who didn't hold any weapon in his hand, blocked the opponent's attack with one hand, knocking the opponent to the ground again and again. He seemed to be laughing at the weakness of the other party, [I can win you with one hand]!

Of course, the blonde boy didn't mean to laugh at each other. However, in the pale young man's heart, the other party's behavior ignited his great anger. It was this anger that allowed him to persist in the cold winter.

Since then, it has begun, the [weakest] duel against the [strongest].

The pale boy said that the blonde boy had [the strongest], and that was true.

For the blonde boy, [strongest] is his talent, [prosperity] is his essence, and [undefeated] is his destiny.

As long as he fights alone, no matter who he fights, he will never lose. Whatever he holds in his hand, even if it's just a tiny leaf, can be turned into a terrifying murder weapon.

Knowing that it was [absolutely impossible to win], weishenme, the pale boy, still had to challenge himself again and again?

(What makes you so desperate?) Stroke, stroke!---The pale-faced boy attacks frequently, his swordsmanship has not yet taken shape, but his technique is already very fierce and precise, in order to maximize the retention of physical strength, each blow is finely adjusted to the trajectory, in order to remove all superfluous movements.

Push, push!--The blonde boy is one-handed, unhurried, and at ease. In the face of such an opponent, there is no need for him to exert all his strength at all.

(What do you carry?What do you want?What do you want to achieve?) "Hah!" The pale boy raised his sword and stabbed forward.

Push again! The blonde boy pushes sideways with his hand and stabs his opponent's sword into the air. The opponent immediately lost his balance and fell forward.

(In this shijie full of strong people, how far do you want to go for a weak person like you?!)" It's enough, if you continue like this, you will feel-" The pale young man who had not completely fallen to the ground twisted his waist and turned around with a sword!

"-Risk!?" the blonde boy stretched out his other hand to block in frustration.

The wooden sword was then picked open, detached from the pale boy's hand, spun several times in mid-air, and stabbed diagonally into the snow.

The pale boy also fell to the ground in embarrassment. Poor landing posture caused his right arm to break. His fragile arm bones could not bear his own weight, and the bones pierced through the flesh from the inside. Immediately, blood stained the ground red.

"Arthur!!" exclaimed the blond boy, who immediately ran over to check on his friend's injuries.

"How's it going, Lancelot?" said the pale boy, still lying in the snow, sneering, "you kid has finally used his other hand. "He's never won. All he gets is [fairness], [fairness] for his opponent to be serious about him.

The duel between the pale boy and the blonde boy took place over the next five years, for a total of thirty-five thousand four hundred and twenty-seven.

The pale-faced boy lost 35,426 games, and there was only one draw.

Fate has never been fair. A strong person is destined to be strong from birth. The weak are also destined to be weak from birth.

Lancelot knew Arthur's weakness better than anyone else, and he knew better than anyone else that Arthur was strong.

He looked at the back of Arthur in the distance, and all he had in his heart was endless uneasiness.

Where is such a weak and powerful monster going?