Pretending to be a noob in a world scaled by power level

[82] The swordsman & the knight

I steadied my breath, keeping my focus locked on Alicia. I saw her, the sweat on her brow, the wide smile on her face, and the determination in her eyes. I could feel the power coursing through me, a silent force pleading to be unleashed.

But instead, I chose to rely on my other strength - my skill and experience. My body moved fluidly, every maneuver, every thrust and parry was a product of countless battles and years of training. I was not just a wielder of great power; I was a swordsman first and foremost.

My movements became a dance, each step carefully choreographed, every swing of my sword a note in a symphony of battle. I slid under Alicia's shield bash, countering with a swift cut to her side. She nimbly danced back, narrowly avoiding my strike.

Our blades met in a shower of sparks, our faces inches from each other. "You're good," she panted, struggling to keep her shield up against my relentless onslaught.

"You're not so bad yourself," I shot back, pushing off her shield and putting some distance between us.

We circled each other, eyes locked in a deadly dance. My every movement was a feint, a trap, a challenge - come and get me if you dare. I was no longer fighting with just power, I was fighting with skill, precision, and experience. And every clash, every dodge, every parry was a testament to that.

As our swords clashed, my weapon got lodged into her shield. With a swift yank, both my blade and her defensive gear were wrenched out of our grasps, sent spiraling away. Now weaponless, the arena echoed with the simultaneous clatter of metal hitting the ground.

Before I could fully comprehend what happened, I saw Alicia rushing at me, sword poised for a downward strike. She had both hands wrapped tightly around her weapon, determination etching her face into a mask of fierce concentration.

I had been waiting for this.

My eyes tracked her blade, my body tensed, ready to move. As her weapon came down, I bent my knees slightly, my arms raising just in time to intercept the descent of her sword.

With a roar, I caught her blade between my bare hands, the edges cutting into my skin, my grip stopping its deadly descent inches from my face. I could feel the cold metal biting into my flesh, the heat from the friction of her relentless force. But I held firm, my hands clenched around her weapon, stopping it in its tracks.

Time seemed to freeze in that instant, the arena, the crowd, the world, all watching in stunned silence as I held the very edge of death between my hands. Alicia's eyes widened in shock, her strength faltering under my grip.

It was a gambit, a deadly one, and one that had bought me the moment I needed.

As I held her blade in my hands, her blue eyes widened in surprise. She was vulnerable, and in that moment, I made my move. Using every ounce of my strength, I sent a swift kick to her shins. The unexpected move caught her off guard, her legs buckling beneath her. The grip on her sword slackened, and in a split second, the weapon fell from her grasp.

Everything happened in a blink. As the sword dropped, I released my grip on her blade and swiftly moved my hands downwards. My fingers closed around the falling hilt of her sword, catching it in mid-air with a practised ease. The motion was fluid, almost seamless. Before she could react, I spun her sword around in one smooth motion, pointing its sharp tip towards her.

"Yield," I said, my voice echoing in the silent arena. The crowd held its breath, the tension in the air palpable. Alicia's sapphire eyes met mine, a spark of recognition, then resignation flickered in them. Slowly, she raised her hands in surrender, a small smile on her face.

"Alright, you got me, handsome boy," she said, her voice filled with disappointment. Her playful tone belying the fact that she had just lost the match, her surrender signifying the end of our intense duel.

The crowd erupted in cheers, the tense silence of the arena broken by their applause and whoops of delight.

As the dust settled, the host stepped back into the center of the arena. He raised his hands, calling for silence. The audience, still buzzing with excitement, gradually quieted down, their eyes fixated on the figure standing in the middle.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" He began, his voice resonating throughout the stadium. "What a match! What a duel! I believe we all can agree that this was an unforgettable display of skill, courage, and strategy!"

The crowd erupted in cheers once again, a sea of applause rippling through the stands.

"But now," The host continued, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "The moment you've all been waiting for. The conclusion of this year's Roma Arena Annual Tournament."

He paused, building suspense. Then, in a voice booming with authority, he announced, "The champion of this year's tournament, the victor of this thrilling duel, the new legend of Roma Arena... is Chang!"

The crowd exploded into deafening cheers, the air filled with a roar of applause and shouts of my name. As the host's words echoed around the stadium, I stood there, the victor, the new champion of the Roma Arena.

Q: Have you won any trophies before?