Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first?
Chapter 106 - 11 Assassin Instant Step

Chapter 106: Chapter 11 Assassin Instant Step

Two shots missed, and he was stabbed in the back of the head.

Even on a real battlefield, though his Power Armor saved his life, it was far from a glorious situation.

Stripping away the advantage of equipment, Claude had lost thoroughly.

There was no cheering or applause from the surrounding Night Watch Knights, who seemed to have fallen into a complete silence.

As a Night Watch Knight, losing in public to a foreign mercenary was an absolute disgrace for those who considered themselves elite.

Not to mention losing so cleanly and thoroughly, leaving the watching Night Watchers shamefaced.

However, Claude, the Knight Captain’s tactics had no flaws.

At the sound of the starting gun, he immediately fired, and as the opponent closed the distance, he didn’t panic and quickly shot at close range. All actions were in accordance with the military manual of the Night Watchmen, a textbook response.

Any other Night Watch Knight would lack confidence in outperforming him in this scenario.

Then, how should this defeat be explained?

In the highest command tent, the Commander-in-Chief and several high-ranking Night Watch officials were watching the entire fight on the command screen, their expressions also heavy and deep in thought.

"It’s the Instant Step," declared the Knight Commander of the Holy Sun, Kolmer, dragging the mouse back to the very beginning.

The screen showed the moment the starting gun sounded, Claude, the Knight Captain firing. In the frozen image, Aske’s body could be seen slightly sinking, his heel slightly raised.

"Ilanian Knight’s Instant Step?" Commander Blaise frowned and asked.

"More precisely, it is the Assassin’s Instant Step," Kolmer replied. "This technique is widely spread in the East, but it indeed originated from the Assassin Sect."

"Mainstream Instant Steps involve a lot of heel spinning, aiming to make the Swordsman’s steps harder to see. However, the Assassin Sect believes heel spinning is a superfluous and meaningless action, since the purpose of the Instant Step is to accelerate in a very short time."

"If you can reach full speed instantly, how could the opponent see your step clearly?"

"With the physical condition of an Assassin, they indeed have the right to say so," laughed Phibes. "Even without heel spinning, few normal people could catch their speed."

"Correct," Kolmer started playing the footage at 0.1x speed, "Watch this frame to here, where Aske’s front foot touches the ground, in just 0.3 seconds he takes at least three steps, each less than half a meter long, speed already at its peak without any heel spinning."

"It’s a perfect Assassin-style Ilanian Instant Step," he concluded. "Not just Claude, but even the Temple Knights here would hardly be confident of hitting the target with the first shot."

"So you guys think that this Aske comes from the Assassin background?" Commander Blaise asked.

"I don’t think so," Kolmer responded cautiously. "From what I know, learning the Assassin-style Ilanian Instant Step is extremely difficult and grueling."

"It is said that their assassin instructors would scatter Iron Thorns on the dining hall corridor floor, leaving only space for half a footstep, thus forcing the assassins to cross using the Instant Step."

"At noon when the dining hall opens, they only serve two-thirds the normal amount of food, hence the assassins must rush through the Iron Thorns zone quickly or go hungry."

"After years of training, most of the assassins’ feet are scarred and festering from repeated missteps during the Instant Step. To alleviate pain, they have a habit of taking anesthetic drugs and wrapping their feet with bandaged pain-killers."

"And this Lord Aske doesn’t have any smell of anesthetic drugs," Phibes contemplated. "His stance and walking posture also appear natural, Either he is hiding it well, or..."

"Or he indeed is not from an Assassin background but has learned the skill of Instant Step through other means," analyzed Kolmer. "I think the latter, because given his level, if he were in the Assassin Sect, he surely would be among the elite, dressed in white."

"An assassin of that level wouldn’t target anything less than the Church Court’s Red Cardinals or the nobility of different nations. As just an Eastern branch of the Night Watchmen, with all due respect, even your life, Commander, wouldn’t draw a white-clothed assassin to personally take action."

"My head isn’t that valuable," Blaise shook his head. "Anyway, let’s proceed as per our standard procedure."

"Just a moment, Commander," Phibes spoke up. "He has proven his combat technique, but Hasimodo brought up a point that made me doubtful."

"It’s said that Lord Aske had pierced a Black Knight’s Power Armor Helmet with a standard steel longsword."

"Is that so?" Kolmer was astonished. "The material strength of military steel, even corroded over thousands of years, can’t be penetrated by a regular forged steel longsword."

"The person is right in our camp, just ask him directly," Commander Blaise proposed.

On the duel field, Aske had already sheathed his longsword, silently standing still.

The outskirts buzzed like a swarm, with Night Watch Knights whispering to each other, their gazes towards the field filled with astonishment, confusion, and mostly, an unveiled hostility.

"Aske is really incredible!" Nora excitedly grabbed Medea’s arm, her eyes gleaming.

However, she soon noticed the uneasy change in the surrounding atmosphere and started to complain somewhat angrily, "What’s wrong with these people? My Aske fairly defeated the opponent, why such a cold attitude!"

"Well, away games are always like this," Medea spoke languidly.

After scanning the surrounding audience, sensing hardly any friendly thoughts, Medea suddenly curled her lips into a mischievous smile.

"Squad Leader, you’re so handsome! I love you!" she cried out like a fan girl, shouting loudly towards the field.

The originally whispering surroundings immediately exploded, many Night Watchmen even standing up, pointing in this direction and shouting aggressively, though the noise was too loud to hear clearly.

"Medea!" Nora was shocked too. Had she not known that Medea had a phobia of men, she might have thought her dear friend had suddenly turned into a love rival.

"Don’t do that!" She frantically tugged at Medea’s arm, trying to make her sit down and shut up, "Don’t deliberately provoke them! You’ll get beaten!"

"Let them come," Medea said nonchalantly. "Dare them to touch me and see? I’ll explode right here and now! I won’t let them survive!"

She repeated "I love you" and "You’re so handsome" several times until Aske finally turned around, his face conveying a helpless expression akin to caring for a mentally challenged child.

"Stop messing around," he said in his mind.

"This is fun," Medea said through mind communication, her tone filled with mischievous triumph.

On the other side, Knight Captain Claude, who had been defeated, stood bewildered, his mind a blank slate.

I lost?

How could I lose?

Lost to a stray mercenary?

I’m a veteran Night Watchman who has served for over seven years in power armor!

Power armor... Right, his longsword had stabbed at my helmet, it shouldn’t have penetrated at all.

On a real battlefield, I wouldn’t have been hurt at all!

I haven’t lost yet!

In despair, like clinging to a lifeline, Knight Captain Claude lifted his head, about to speak.

Morning Star Knight Commander Phibes, from behind, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Well fought," Phibes said gravely, "You did your best; now go rest well."

"Commander Phibes!" Claude hurriedly spoke, "I haven’t lost yet! His longsword couldn’t pierce my helmet—"

"Enough!" Phibes said sternly, "On the battlefield, being inferior in skill and then relying on your equipment’s advantage to regain face, do you not feel ashamed as a Night Watch Knight?"

Claude, upon hearing this, was struck like mourning his ancestors, his entire demeanor turning ghostly pale.

"Go think about where you really lost," Phibes said severely, adding suddenly, "Take off your helmet and give it to me."

"What?" Claude asked weakly.

"Lend me your helmet," Phibes asserted, "Later, you can get a new one from the quartermaster."

Claude obediently removed his helmet and handed it to Phibes, who took the helmet and approached Aske, saying:

"You’ve won, Lord Aske. According to our earlier agreement, I will approve your trade request and forward it to the commander."

"Another piece of good news is that the commander was also watching this duel. Regarding what Hasimodo said about your final strike piercing the Black Knight’s helmet with your longsword, he would like to witness it himself, if possible?"

"No problem," Aske nodded.

Unlike the abilities of extraordinary traits, extraordinary swordsmanship isn’t something worth keeping secret—especially the Star Nine Forms from Dragon Country, which no one on this continent can understand.

Even if they filmed the entire thing with a camera, played it back in slow motion for analysis, or took the helmet to a physics or materials lab for research, they won’t be able to understand it.

Thus, Phibes raised the helmet high.

Aske trembled his longsword, and with a melodious vibration, he thrust forward.

Star Nine Forms - Annihilation.

The longsword penetrated the helmet effortlessly as if a chopstick was thrusting into tofu.

The sword tip stopped in front of Phibes’ eyes, the latter holding his breath, his pupils contracting.

Just now, the faint hum of the sword had drawn his fleeting attention.

When he snapped back to reality, he realized the longsword had already pierced through the power armor helmet, a few more inches and it would reach his forehead.

And surely his skull was no harder than the power armor helmet.

The surrounding Morning Star Knights immediately rose up in alarm, many even reached for their guns only to be restrained by their comrades.

"Is this sufficient?" Aske retracted his longsword and asked indifferently.

"It is," Phibes took a deep breath.

Only then did he realize a cold sweat had already drenched his back.