"In the next game, players No. 45 and No. 69 are invited to the stage. ”

At noon, the knights who watched the game had almost all dispersed, and the eliminated knights were naturally not in the mood to stay in the field, while those who had not yet played rushed to eat and rest to prepare for the upcoming game.

The fountain square was deserted all of a sudden.

Only Roland, Constantine, and another knight remained.

The serial number drawn by Constantine was the forty-five, and the knight was naturally the sixty-nine.

The instructor who acted as the referee of the tournament also looked a little listless, and whoever stood in the sun for a morning, watching the dazzling swords and swords, repeating the monotonous rhetoric, would have the same feelings as him.

Resisting the urge to yawn, the referee took the trouble to read out the rules of the game again: in a fight, any player who appears outside the ring, or is injured more than twice, will automatically be considered to have lost the match.

Of course, contestants can also choose to throw in the towel when they realize that there is no hope of winning.

Propping up his mask, Constantine stepped his feet into the frozen pool and stared at his first opponent.

Contestant Sixty-Nine, a burly young swordsman, looked at the opponent who looked more like a circus character with a less friendly gaze.

"Hey, boy, don't think you can disguise yourself as a master by wearing a mask, the qualifiers are not so easy, and if you can survive three moves under me, an angel will bless you. The knight said with a big grin.

Constantine looked at each other, "Have you ever seen a real angel?"

The young knight was stunned for a moment, but soon he realized that this must be the other party teasing him, and he pulled out his sword in anger, "Don't talk nonsense, even if you are really those birdmen recorded in the canon, Lao Tzu is not afraid, I am hungry, I am in a hurry to eat, hurry up and do it, or just admit defeat." ”

The metaphor made Constantine almost laugh, I've seen the birdmen you mentioned, really.

It's just that Diana herself probably won't like this metaphor.

Roland looked at the young knight with interest, judging from the other party's series of behaviors, this guy's swordsmanship level should not be high, where did he get the confidence to participate in such a grand event as the Imperial Martial Arts Conference?

It wasn't until the young man drew his sword from his sheath that he understood.

The sword was engraved with sporadic magical symbols, and pale cyan magical light flew around the blade.

A magic sword, although it is probably only an ordinary magic item that has undergone the most basic enchantment among magic items, is still better than ordinary metal weapons.

"Why, little ghost, I haven't seen a magic weapon, I'm scared stupid, I'll tell you, this [tear stain] of mine, ordinary steel swords can't resist it at all, if you know each other, hurry up and admit defeat to me." ”

Sixty-nine triumphantly authentic.

For knights, strong equipment, of course, is not everything, but without good equipment, everything is meaningless.

The confidence of the sixty-ninth player also lies in this, he knows that his swordsmanship level is not outstanding, but relying on the magic sword [tear stain] in his hand, he rarely loses in the frontal sword, and in his past duels, many people who are stronger than him in swordsmanship are cut off in the middle of the battle, and finally have to lose.

Unless there is a huge difference in the level of swordsmanship, you will definitely be able to win the game if you have a magic sword.

Roland could naturally see this, and he was more curious about how this masked swordsman who made him unpredictable should deal with it.

Constantine tilted his head, "The blade made of Cassel's dense steel, about thirty-seven inches in length and weighs about sixty kilograms, the enchantment attributes chosen are [Armor Piercing] and [Piercing], a very good magic sword, however, this kind of craftsmanship was abandoned by the alchemy altar half a century ago, it seems that the level of manufacturing magic weapons in your county is not very good." ”

Hearing this, the young swordsman's face was a little ugly, "My [Tear Stain] has always been cut in two, and I haven't missed it yet, wait, your sword will be cut in half by me." ”

"Of course, it's no problem to deal with ordinary weapons, but ......" As soon as the words fell, a cyan sword light had already struck Constantine.

Preemptively, the young knight clearly knew this, ignoring Constantine's comments, he had already struck, the sword swirling with the light of magic let out a rapid whistling, and the sound of breaking wind was sharp and piercing, like the sound of a knife cutting through glass.

A mid-level knight-level thrust, Roland in the audience commented silently, but with the spell runes engraved on the sword, this blow could easily penetrate a shield made of fine iron, which was equivalent to a high-level knight's full blow.

However, Constantine's response was simple.

The dark green scabbard stood in front of him, as if a wall of gold had risen from the ground and lay horizontally in front of the sword.

During his years-long hunting career, the scabbard did not know how many deadly dangers it had shielded for his master.

Ka!

There was a soft thud.

The moment [Tear Stain] touched the dark green scabbard, countless cracks bloomed on the surface of the sword body, causing the sword body of the magic sword to let out an overwhelmed moan, trembling, and screaming, trying to escape from the front of the wall.

What the?

In the young man's stunned gaze, his love sword, the rune sword that could be broken in two in his eyes, broke.

The tip of the sword cracked, and countless tiny pieces of metal splattered in all directions, nailing into the ice beneath their feet, leaving half of the blade alone on the hilt.

The swordsman remained sluggish in his grip on the sword, unable to move as if he had been paralyzed.

Cut it in two, just as he said earlier.

It's just that it was his knife that broke.

Seeing this scene, even the referee couldn't help but open his mouth wide.

"In front of high-level magic armor, this kind of magic weapon forged from steel is inevitably too weak. Constantine shook his head.

In the end, the mentor made a decision, and the battle ended with the boy's victory.

"I'm afraid this is the shortest battle in the history of the martial arts conference, and it can be recorded in the history of the school. Roland looked at the young swordsman who had not yet come to his senses and smiled dumbly.

His interest in this masked swordsman grew.

In the office of the president of the Palatine Academy, Dean Morgan was sitting leisurely at a large desk, on which was a mirror with many runes engraved on the border, and the mark of the alchemy altar engraved on the top, apparently a valuable magical item.

The scene of the martial arts tournament is clearly projected in the mirror, and every ten minutes, the image in the mirror switches back and forth between the six different rings, allowing the dean to clearly monitor the progress of each arena.

Old Morgan drank tea leisurely, a job he had done for decades and had long been familiar with it.

For this old man who has reached his twilight years, watching young people from all over the world duel in the ring is easy to evoke memories of his youth and make him nostalgic for those bloody years.

He enjoyed the process.

"It's kind of interesting. Looking at the picture projected in the mirror, the old man said.

Suddenly, somewhere in the corner of the desk, a communication crystal that seemed to have been idle for a long time glowed discordantly.

Dean Morgan put down the teacup and raised his eyebrows slightly, thinking to himself that this old guy had been in a cold war with him for more than two years, how could he take the initiative to come to the door?

A magical glow erupted from the center of the communication crystal, and a familiar face appeared in front of Morgan's eyes, and the crystal projected an old man's face, which was old, wise, and a little cynical.

"Good day, old drunkard, long time no see. The old man said with a big grin. "It's been two years since we last met amicably, right?"

Morgan sighed, "Good day, Cizeriel, if you mean using arcane to transfer all the precious antiques I have collected for decades to your magic tower, I would rather stay away from me, I answered you two years ago, I will say again, I will not expel Claudia, I respect the choice of every student in the academy, and I hope you can respect your granddaughter." ”