Kapitel 209: Sparring
The evening sky blazed with a fiery sunset, casting the world in a vibrant glow. Xianyue, who had been sound asleep on the hard cot within her tent, was roused by the distant sound of a resounding bugle. She opened her eyes, squinting slightly against the piercing brightness of the setting sun, rubbing her eyes and yawning, "Drills have begun."
The noise outside grew steadily, making it impossible for Xianyue to return to sleep. Rising with a quiet grumble, she stepped outside, her gaze instinctively drawn toward the training field. At this hour, the camp was abuzz with drills. Only a few patrolling guards remained, who respectfully made way as they noticed Xianyue approaching.
On the expansive training grounds, countless soldiers stood in formation, their dark armor cloaking the bright crimson sunset. A vast swath of black, somber as night, stretched as far as the eye could see. In the center lay a small open space, serving as the dividing line between Bai Chu's soldiers and those of Lan Kingdom.
Atop the elevated platform stood Bai Zhanfeng, his dark armor lending an air of majestic authority. Amidst a sea of soldiers that resembled a vast, black tide, the entire field fell silent, as though even the air dared not stir.
It was Xianyue's first time seeing Bai Zhanfeng clad in armor, his dark brows and intense gaze evoking the essence of ink-stroked calligraphy. With every gesture, he commanded an imposing presence, exuding an aura that left no trace of the combat fanatic he once was. A year of hardships had refined him; if he once was a sharp-edged gem, he was now a polished stone, tempered by duty and purpose—time truly changes much.
Standing at a distance, Xianyue observed Bai Zhanfeng on the platform. In her months in Yecheng, she hadn't seen him exude such vigor and spirit. Such a man, it was no wonder Nian Xiaoyu was so enamored with him. Those strong arms offered the hope of protection every woman longed for. To be loved by him was fortune indeed, but to be near him without his love—what misfortune that would be, just as with Chen Ruoxi. If she had never fallen in love, perhaps she wouldn't suffer so now.
The smile on Xianyue's face faded as she lowered her gaze. With a commanding shout, she called, "Bai Zhanfeng!"
He turned, watching as she approached with measured steps, her gaze shifting to the soldiers below, particularly those of Lan Kingdom. Having journeyed for over half a month and resting for merely two days, they now stood resolute and spirited.
Though Lan Kingdom was steeped in scholarly elegance, each soldier harbored dreams of heroism. These men, who bore the burden of defending their homeland, were truly the iron-hearted heroes of Lan.
"Shall we spar?"
Without waiting for Bai Zhanfeng's reply, Xianyue unsheathed the treasured sword at her waist, leaping gracefully past him with an elegance that matched the fluttering white of her attire, lively and ethereal.
The assembled soldiers widened their eyes in awe, having never witnessed such speed. By the time they regained their composure, Xianyue was already standing at the dividing line between the Bai Chu and Lan soldiers. Her sword, Snow Essence, gleamed with a silvery brightness, resilient as a snake. The soldiers of Lan looked at the brilliant light in her hand with reverence; it was a token of affection given by their king to their queen. Though the men of Lan were cultured, they possessed fiery passion and loyalty, and it was only their queen who could inspire such devotion.
Xianyue turned, pointing her sword toward Bai Zhanfeng on the platform. Her bright eyes, glinting with a playful provocation, carried a regal pride that was far from arrogance. Rather, her bearing, imbued with a queen's dignity, surfaced unconsciously.
The troops from both kingdoms were electric with anticipation, a bubbling excitement evident, though neither side dared to cheer outright, each side wary of the other.
The soldiers of Bai Chu thought back to the Pancheng tournament when their young master lost to Lan's queen. If he were to lose again, where would their pride as Bai's army be? On the other hand, Lan's troops speculated that perhaps the young master had intentionally shown restraint in that duel out of regard for their queen. Should he give his all now, and if their queen was injured, how would they face their king?
In the front ranks of Lan's forces, Yilan, Luzhu, and others gazed at Xianyue, their eyes glinting with fervor. This was their princess, their queen, to whom they swore undying loyalty. Clad in white, her radiance unmatched, she inspired in them a blind, unwavering devotion.
"Go, Princess!"
"The Princess will win!"
They pushed their way to the front, cheering Xianyue on, their fervor igniting the rest, washing away their fears in a flood of admiration.
"Go, Queen!"
"Our young master will prevail!"
The forces began to shout their support, their cheers echoing across the vast field, rising wave after wave.
From the platform, Bai Zhanfeng leapt, his outstretched arms like the wings of an eagle in flight. Without a weapon, his famed Iron Palm technique was enough; his hands alone were formidable weapons.
"Clear the way!" Bai Zhanfeng roared, his voice ringing out, more potent than any bugle, brimming with an indomitable force.
"Retreat!" Xianyue commanded sharply. Those nearest her, including Yilan and others, immediately withdrew, hands extended, stepping back rapidly.
The Iron Palm unleashed, a red brilliance flaring in the darkening sky, flames flickering in his open palms as they bore down upon Xianyue. The energy emanating from his hands was both unyielding and powerful, a reflection of his own indomitable spirit. The flanking banners fluttered fiercely, producing a piercing sound. Soldiers on either side craned their necks, gripping their spears tightly, instinctively stepping back, their eyes narrowed, not wanting to miss a single moment.
It was a sparring match, so restraint would naturally be exercised. If they fought with all their might, how could the soldiers below withstand the clash?
Xueyue leaped forward, Snow Soul in hand, evading his strike as she charged directly at him. The silvery gleam of her blade cut through the vibrant hues like a streak of lightning. The White Chu soldiers gripped their spears tighter, nervously swallowing as they watched, a flicker of concern for Bai Zhanfeng flashing across their faces.
In a swift motion, Bai Zhanfeng lunged, his hands claw-like, aiming to disarm her. A flicker of excitement sparked in the eyes of the White Chu soldiers, while the warriors of Lan held their breath.
Their moves, swift as thunder and lightning, dazzled those watching below, igniting their blood and bolstering their loyalty. Each wondered, if struck by that mighty palm or pierced by that blade, would they not surely perish?
Bai Zhanfeng hadn't felt such unrestrained exhilaration in ages; though he had held back in their last battle, Xueyue now fought him as an equal, both giving their all without risking mortal wounds.
Likewise, Xueyue felt an electrifying freedom. Each strike demanded her full strength, and though Bai Zhanfeng deflected each blow, the intensity filled her with satisfaction. Sweat trickled down her face, soaking her white robes, yet she felt no discomfort—only a release, as if the frustration bottled within her finally broke free.
Their clash grew fiercer with each strike, the rapid movements so dazzling that even seasoned soldiers had to squint against the onslaught. It was like facing the edge of a blade; the sheer intensity left them flinching, almost as if they could feel the slice of each blow.
In midair, black and white shadows merged and reformed, weaving a chaotic dance that left the onlookers breathless, hearts pounding as they tried to distinguish friend from foe. Their spirits rose and fell with every movement, entirely captivated.
"Roar!"
The soldiers felt a fierce shout ripple through the earth beneath their feet, though the ground remained intact. In an instant, their bodies jolted, and they looked up at the black silhouette wreathed in flames like a rainbow after a storm. The white figure, sword gleaming like a flash of silver in the twilight, hurtled downwards, aimed directly at the fiery figure.
Black and white collided midair. Those below clenched their fists, holding their breath, eyes shut against the raw energy of the confrontation. The silence was thick, disrupted only by the erratic, rapid beat of their hearts, as if a tidal wave had passed and left only debris in its wake.
Dust billowed up, and a thunderous roar rolled across the field like an earthquake.
"Ha-ha!"
A faint laugh reached the soldiers' ears. Peeking cautiously, they saw both warriors safe upon the ground, prompting them to finally open their eyes fully.
The battlefield where White Chu and Lan once stood divided now lay marred with a long, deep furrow, a haunting reminder of the battle's intensity.
"Master Bai," came a cool, steady voice devoid of even the slightest pant. Xueyue raised her right hand, waving a torn black cloth. Bai Zhanfeng glanced down at his right sleeve, now visibly slashed.
"Miss Xueyue," he replied, nodding toward her back. Though his stance mirrored the unyielding might of Xuan Yuanhao, it lacked the domineering air of one who tramples all beneath them.
Xueyue turned, brushing aside a lock of hair that had fallen from her shoulder.
"A draw," Bai Zhanfeng remarked, inspecting his palm where a fiery red mark lingered, and grinned.
Though his Iron Palm technique relied on his hands, Xueyue's deft skill allowed her to dodge and slice his sleeve—a skill that could have ended his life. Likewise, he could have easily taken hers by severing a strand of her hair.
"Ha-ha!"
Xueyue pointed at him, her fair face slick with sweat as she laughed freely, her sweat-dampened hair flying wild and unrestrained. There was a madness to her laughter, a fearless, almost reckless abandon that left onlookers in both awe and envy.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein