Nascent Soul Rebirth: Starting as a Wizard

There was suspicion and scrutiny in those eyes, but also something that hadn't been there before—perhaps surprise that the new commander was actually skilled in healing, or perhaps the emotion of seeing him personally treat Gareth's wounds.

"Everyone, bandage each other if you have minor injuries, and carry over those with more serious injuries. Those cheap life potions aren't very effective." Solo's voice rang out on the silent battlefield.

"Today, the Knights had seven seriously injured and twenty-one lightly injured, but we also held the wall and repelled three hundred and fifty rock creatures, including three large crystallized species."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across each knight's face: "I know you're more used to following Captain Gareth's orders, which is normal, since you've fought side by side for years, while I've only been here a few days."

Gareth looked up, his eyes sharp.

"But what I want to say today is—" Solo's voice rose, "within these walls, there is only one knightly order, and the rules of the knightly order are very simple:

The strong lead the weak to live, the strong fight to protect the weak, and the strong fight for the weak's chance to survive.

He walked to the center of the battlefield and slammed his warhammer heavily on the ground.

"Captain Gareth," Solo said, looking at the battered giant, "I, as the Grand Master of the Knights, now formally challenge you."

The rules are simple: whoever falls first loses; the winner commands, the loser obeys.

The entire battlefield was deathly silent.

Everyone was stunned.

Including Gareth himself.

He slowly stood up, his injured left arm still bleeding, but his right hand was already gripping the battle axe tightly.

"You want it now?" Gareth's voice held a hint of disbelief. "Right after a battle?"

"There is no 'time to be ready' on the battlefield," Solo said calmly. "The rock creatures won't wait for us to recover, and the Knights need an undisputed leader—today, now."

Gareth stared at Solo for a full ten seconds, then he smiled.

That was the blood-stained laughter of a warrior.

"Okay," he said, raising his battle axe. "I accept."

There were no ceremonies, no referees, only the lingering smoke and blood of the battlefield as witnesses.

Solo and Gareth stood facing each other, ten paces apart, in the center of a clearing littered with rubble and blood.

The knights around them spontaneously formed a loose circle, and even some trolls with minor injuries cast their gazes over.

Gareth simply immobilized his injured left arm and gripped the tomahawk tightly in his right hand.

Solo then held his warhammer level, assuming the standard knight's starting stance.

"Begin." Solo's voice was calm and even.

Gareth launched the first attack.

He didn't charge, but approached slowly—the caution of a seasoned knight.

At a distance of three steps, he suddenly twisted his waist and exerted force, his battle axe slashing diagonally from the lower left to the upper right at a tricky angle, aiming straight for Solo's right wrist holding the hammer.

Instead of retreating, Solo advanced, taking a half-step forward with his left foot, and pressed down with his warhammer, the handle striking the side of the axe blade precisely.

"Clang!" Sparks flew, and the axe was deflected.

Almost simultaneously, Solo's right leg swept like lightning towards the inside of Gareth's supporting leg's knee—a standard close-range tactic for the Knights.

Gareth reacted swiftly, stepping back and swinging his tomahawk in a sweeping motion to block Solo's possible pursuit route.

Neither side used any of the life seed's energy. The life seed's energy was too violent; once activated, it was said to determine a winner, but in reality, it was a matter of life and death.

The two began to move rapidly, their weapons tracing dangerous arcs through the air.

Every clash was accompanied by the crisp sound of metal colliding, and every shift in offense and defense held the breath of the spectators.

Solo's tactics were very clear: to use only the standard knightly weapon fighting techniques he had learned during his training in the Viscount's territory.

Chop, smash, flick, sweep, parry, block—every movement is as precise as a textbook.

He did not use any special power-generating techniques from his previous life's martial arts, nor did he use his internal energy; he fought purely with the strength and skills of an ordinary person.

Gareth, on the other hand, demonstrated the advantage of being a seasoned veteran.

His attack angles are more varied, combining feints and real attacks, and he often changes his moves unexpectedly.

In the thirty-first move, he feigned a powerful chop, but the axe suddenly turned into a horizontal sweep in mid-air, nearly hitting Solo in the side.

Solo narrowly dodged, and his warhammer slammed into Gareth's exposed right shoulder as he changed his attack.

Gareth managed to block with the axe handle, and with a "bang," both men took a step back, their breathing heavy.

After forty moves, their movements began to slow down noticeably.

Sweat soaked through the lining and dripped down his cheeks.

The weight of the armor, the recoil from the weapons, and the depletion of physical strength were all gradually becoming apparent.

In the forty-fifth move, Gareth delivered a powerful slash, which Solo dodged by sidestepping, the axe blade embedding itself deeply into a crevice in the rock.

Just as he exerted force to pull out the axe and leaned forward—

Solo moved.

He did not attack, but suddenly released his right hand, and the warhammer fell to the ground.

He lunged forward like a cheetah, his left hand accurately grabbing Gareth's right wrist as he held the axe, his right hand pressing down on the back of Gareth's neck, and his right leg thrusting forward to pin Gareth's right leg in place.

The standard knight's grappling technique.

Gareth roared and struggled, striking Solo in the ribs with his left elbow.

Solo grunted, but remained unmoved, channeling his strength into his arms and right leg.

The over-the-shoulder throw stance was already in place, but Gareth's combat experience was so rich that, the moment he was lifted up, he actually used Solo's strength to twist his body in mid-air and kicked Solo hard in the face with his left foot!

Solo dodged with his head tilted, disrupting the rhythm of the grappling. Both men lost their balance and tumbled to the ground.

Dust flew everywhere.

Close-quarters combat began.

There were no weapons, only the clash of fists, elbows, knees, and legs, and the struggle of joints and muscles.

This is the most primitive and demanding form of combat, testing basic physical fitness and fighting instincts.

Gareth, with his stronger physique and rich combat experience, once had the upper hand.

He locked Solo's left arm, attempting to use a joint lock.

Solo gritted his teeth and endured the blow, striking Gareth three times in a row with his right fist in the same spot on his ribs—a spot not protected by the armor.

Gareth, in pain, loosened his grip, and Solo seized the opportunity to break free, rolling away to create distance.

The two men stood up again, five steps apart, panting heavily, their faces bruised.

Gareth's lip was split open, and Solo's left eye socket was bruised.

The knights watching the battle fell silent.

They never imagined the duel would be so brutal, so...pure.

There are no elaborate witchcrafts, no explosive bursts of life-burning techniques, only the most basic knightly combat skills, where skill, stamina, and willpower are the deciding factors.

"Shall we continue, Commander?" Gareth asked breathlessly, his single eye still burning with fighting spirit.

"Continue." Solo wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and resumed his fighting stance.

The two drew closer again.

This time, no one rushed to attack; instead, they moved slowly, searching for an opening.

In the fifty-eighth move, Solo feigned a right punch, and at the moment Gareth raised his arm to block,

He suddenly ducked down, grabbed Gareth's right leg with both hands, and slammed his shoulder into Gareth's abdomen—a classic takedown.