Chapter 296 Song of Life (7k2)

Three short-handled sword blades flew towards Arthur.

Taking advantage of Arthur's time to dodge, Bertrand turned from defense to offense. He stepped up and approached instantly. His arm was thrust forward like an outstretched branch, and the foil sword was almost integrated with the arm. The edge was already close to Arthur's throat.

However, just like all Fiore swordsmen would do, at the moment of life and death, Arthur almost subconsciously clutched Bertrand's slender foil with his hands, and his white gloves were instantly The sword edge opened a hole, revealing the iron chain buttons hidden under the gloves.

Those were the anti-cut chainmail gloves he had specially customized for today's duel. Combined with Fiore's unique trembling wrestling technique, this was the best way to deal with the French foil, which was good at stabbing.

Arthur tightly grasped the blade of the sword to restrict Bertrand's movement. In the blink of an eye, he raised the side of the triangular step. The sword turned from a long-tailed posture to an bullish posture and slashed horizontally with a thunderous force with the roar of the wind. It seemed that This sword will kill Bertrand.

Bertrand's reaction was not slow either. He suddenly pulled out his left arm from his cloak to protect his side. He only heard a crisp sound, and even the mist surrounding the two of them trembled.

Bertrand grinned: "Is that all?"

The audience in the audience exclaimed: "Is Bertrand's arm made of iron? How did he withstand this blow?"

"No, look at his arm, what is that?"

In the sight of the audience, what was equipped on Bertrand's left hand was a shield integrated with a plate glove, and a long thorn that could be used as a dagger was connected to the tail finger of the glove.

Even the well-informed Duke of Wellington and Talleyrand couldn't help but raise questions when they saw Bertrand's new weapons.

"That shield looks so weird!"

"I seem to have seen something similar to this shield somewhere. If I remember correctly, it should be in the collection of the Duke of Somerset, but that thing is from the 17th century. Based on this, the shield in Bertrand's hand It’s probably old.”

William IV asked the sword fighting experts Angelo brothers beside him: "What is this?"

Angelo smiled and replied: "Your Majesty, we are in for a treat today. I thought this was just an ordinary duel, but now it seems that Bertrand and Mr. Hastings are more like a duel than a duel. Showing off what he has learned throughout his life, first the Fiore-style swordsman used Richtenar-style swordsmanship to fight the enemy, and now the foil sword master responded by using his lantern shield."

"Lantern Shield?" William IV wondered: "Why is it called the Lantern Shield? I don't think it looks like a lantern!"

Little Angelo shook his head sullenly and said, "Your Majesty, you will know as you read, this is a very insidious weapon. If Mr. Hastings doesn't handle it well, the outcome will be decided in the next round."

As soon as little Angelo finished speaking, he saw Bertrand suddenly turned his left arm and pointed the shield towards Arthur. Immediately, a small hole suddenly appeared on the top of the shield, and a dazzling light radiated from the small hole, shining directly on Arthur's face.

The dark environment of the duel stage suddenly lit up, and the sudden increase in brightness made Arthur fall into a trance. In his sight, there was only a patch of light. He could not see the stage or the audience, and he could not find any trace of Bertrand.

However, the outcome of the duel was only a matter of seconds. The moment when Arthur was in a daze was a great opportunity for Bertrand to attack. The Parisian swordsman released the hilt of the foil that was firmly held by Arthur without any hesitation, and with his right hand He inserted it into his arms and took out the dagger he had prepared early. He approached Arthur in a breath and planned to insert the nail-sharp dagger directly into Arthur's skull along his chin.

Bertrand raised his eyebrows and smiled contemptuously: "It's almost time to end."

When the audience saw this, the men yelled angrily: "Insidious! Despicable!"

The ladies each covered their eyes with handkerchiefs, for fear of seeing some horrific scene of blood spurting.

However, the scene they expected did not happen. Perhaps after hearing the reminder from the audience, when Bertrand raised the corner of his mouth to end the game, he suddenly felt like something kicked him in the lower abdomen.

A clang!

When everyone saw Bertrand, he seemed to have jumped up a short distance. His expression that was still smiling just now suddenly changed. His face began to turn blue and purple, his mouth was half-opened but he couldn't breathe, and he was sweating profusely. One by one, it dripped down the cheeks.

"I...you..."

Even in the noisy environment of the theater, the sound of Bertrand's hissing breath was still very clear.

The hand holding the dagger was as soft as a puddle of mud, his fingertips were trembling, and the dagger fell to the ground with a clang.

The seven-foot-tall Paris swordsman huddled on the ground in pain, clutching his abdomen. He breathed in and whispered intermittently: "You...I...didn't we agree...don't use so much force?" "

And Arthur, who made a key interception, was not much better. He covered his feet and squatted on the ground, and responded slightly apologetically: "I'm sorry, Mr. Bertrand, my reaction may indeed be a bit excessive. But Thinking on the bright side, at least the audience is happy to see it.”

The audience burst into thunderous cheers, the ladies blushed, and the gentlemen smiled evilly and whistled to urge Bertrand to get up.

William IV and other important guests all turned to look at the Angelo brothers beside them.

However, what people didn't expect was that the two sword masters, who had experienced many battles, were not surprised by this scene.

Little Angelo smiled and explained: "As you can see, Your Majesty, this is the importance of wearing a crotch protector in a duel."

Lionel promptly asked the two experts for their opinions: "What do you think of the quality of this duel?"

Big Angelo held his chin and nodded slightly: "I have to say, they fought quite classically, and the duel was more intense than I imagined. Although I couldn't see all their footwork clearly because of the smoke on the stage, For now, they're recreating some of the daily lives of medieval and Renaissance swordsmen. The only drawback is that they're a little too complicated."

In the box on the other side, Alexandre Dumas laughed and punched the air: "Damn it, I said Arthur can handle it!"

Disraeli subconsciously grabbed his pants. He only felt phantom pain in his lower limbs: "This kick was too harsh. I felt like Bertrand was about to fly into the sky."

Dickens glanced at Tennyson next to him with a strange expression: "Alfred, didn't you just say you wanted to compose a poem? Where are the lyrics?"

Tennyson, who had just started to feel something, was also speechless by this scene. He looked at Bertrand on the stage who seemed to be about to faint at any moment, and just shook his head.

Heine on the side rolled his eyes when he saw this: "What's so difficult about this? Look at me."

He cleared his throat and recited uninvitedly: "Ah! My dearest one! Can you tell me? Why are the roses so pale? Why do the crisp violets wither among the flowers? The clouds in the clouds Bird, why do you sing so sadly? Why do you smell like death, my dearest one? Why do you leave me?

Everyone was shocked when they heard this, and couldn't help but respect Heine.

Tennyson, who is also a poet, was stunned for a long time, and then commented: "This... this is simply turning decay into magic."

Alexandre Dumas even held Heine's hands: "Heinrich, did you write this poem now, or was it prepared early in the morning?"

Heine shrugged and said: "I wrote it before. It was originally a love poem. But I think it is quite appropriate to use it in this place. It can at least be used to explain why the heroine left me. Of course, I originally wanted to That’s not what I meant. What I mean is that there is no problem on my part, Mr. Bertrand is just a special case.”

While everyone was commenting, Arthur and Bertrand on the duel stage also relaxed.

The two protagonists got up from the ground. Bertrand glanced at the foil sword lying on the ground. He was about to pick it up when he saw Arthur holding the hilt of the long sword and throwing a javelin directly at him. Throw it over.

As a master of sword master level, Bertrand has naturally been on guard against this move for a long time. All sword fighting masters know that there is such a "flying fairy" hidden in the Fiore flow with a killing range of more than ten meters.

Bertrand rolled to avoid the English dagger, which was big enough to penetrate three adults. He only heard a bang and the dagger pierced into the mahogany wardrobe under the stage behind Bertrand like a bolt of lightning.

Only then did the audience discover this inconspicuous cabinet placed under the stage.

Before they could guess what the cabinet was for, Bertrand had already jumped off the duel table and yanked open the cabinet.

Immediately afterwards, he saw a flail meteor hammer in his hand.

Just when he was about to go on stage to continue the challenge, he discovered that Arthur on the west side of the stage also took out two dual-wielding miner's pickaxes from his weapon cabinet and prepared to take the stage aggressively.

"ah?!"

Upon seeing this, Bertrand, who was sweating profusely, hurriedly threw the meteor hammer aside, and took out Talkhov's two-handed giant sword from the weapons cabinet.

When Arthur saw that he had changed weapons, he threw away the miner's pickaxe in his hand and pulled out the 70-inch Demon Trident that he was most proud of.

Bertrand, who was dripping with sweat, hurriedly threw Talkhov's giant sword aside, and before the audience booed to express their dissatisfaction with the two players' armaments, he chose the ax gun he kept at the bottom of the box as the final weapon to deal with the enemy.

But when he picked up the ax gun and rushed back to the stage, Bertrand discovered that a confusing mist had risen above the stage at some point. A large amount of liquid carbon dioxide was madly absorbing the heat in the air. The entire Astley Theater was The stage dropped a few degrees for this.

The gentlemen tightened their jackets one after another, and the ladies also put on the shawls they had just taken off because of the heat.

As for Bertrand on the duel stage, all the sweat on his gloves and clothes had solidified and turned into a thin layer of white frost.

Under the light of the torch, his whole body was shining, and he looked like he was wearing a suit of armor dotted with diamond fragments.

But Arthur, who had just appeared holding a 70-inch trident, was nowhere to be seen. When Bertrand turned around to get the weapon, he had already hidden himself in the fog.

Bertrand looked around the stage, not daring to make any rash move. The huge size of the ax gun helps him gain an advantage in attack range, but it also limits his movement. At this moment when it is impossible to determine the opponent's position, taking the initiative to attack is tantamount to exposing one's vulnerable parts to the opponent.

Just when Bertrand was caught in a psychological self-game, bursts of lightning suddenly erupted from the edge of the stage.

Lightning roared down from the nine iron pillars surrounding the duel arena, like nine venomous snakes that curled up and attacked swiftly.

The blue-purple electric light whizzed past, lighting up the dim duel arena again. Bertrand turned his head suddenly, and a dark shadow holding a sword was reflected in the thick fog. The guy was already close to the limit.

"Mr. Bertrand, what are you looking for?"

Arthur kicked his toes, and the Guy Fawkes mask broke through the fog. What followed was not the devil trident that Bertrand expected, but a British saber with a cold blade, or more accurately, a Scotland Yard police officer's command knife with a complex pattern guard and a Wilkinson-style sword.

It was not a special weapon. On the contrary, it was Arthur's most commonly used conventional weapon.

Bertrand had no time to change his stance, so he had to loosen his left hand holding the axe gun, clamp the axe gun with his right hand, and raise the lantern shield on his left arm to try to withstand the blow again. Almost at the same time, he used the same trick to open the small hole in the shield to release the light to disrupt Arthur's next attack.

But this time he obviously couldn't succeed again, Arthur's speed of changing steps was also very fast.

Just a simple backward jump staggered the direction of the light. Arthur stepped on the long handle of the axe gun with one foot, just like when he stepped on the springboard between the two ships to kill the Barbary pirates a year ago, his two feet quickly rushed along the long handle.

The axe gun was already extremely heavy, and now with the weight of an adult man, Bertrand couldn't lift it. The Paris Swordmaster decisively abandoned his weapon again and simply met the enemy with the lantern shield in his off-hand.

Swords flashed, and the jab connected to the lantern shield plate armor gloves collided with the police officer's knife several times in a breath. With a few bangs, the audience could even vaguely see the sparks from the sword blades falling into the mist that was enough to submerge the lower bodies of the two men.

Arthur slashed down horizontally, and Bertrand's right chest leather armor suddenly opened several holes. Bertrand's jab penetrated, and Arthur's Guy Fawkes mask also instantly opened several cracks.

The Angelo brothers in the box saw this, and a hint of surprise appeared on their faces, and the words that they wanted to complain just now were swallowed back into their stomachs.

The Duke of Wellington raised his glass and nodded slightly, saying, "I understand these moves. This is the standard swordsmanship in the army. It is a typical Scotland Yard Highland Broadsword. The soldiers of the 42nd Regiment played a major role in the Battle of Quatre Bras with this Highland Broadsword. These angry Scottish men fought the enemy in close combat with fearless courage and repelled Ney's attack, thus consolidating the flank of Prussian Marshal Blücher. If it were not for them and the Prince of Orange who was in charge of commanding the Battle of Quatre Bras and led the army to defeat the enemy with a small force, we would never have waited for the Prussian reinforcements at Waterloo. At this point, Mr. Angelo, I have to thank you. You are also a hero of Waterloo. One of them. "

Big Angelo was flattered when he heard this. He clinked his wine glass with Wellington and said, "Sir, you are too kind. It is also my honor to be responsible for the training of the Black Guards. I am very happy that everything I do can really help Britain and you."

When William IV heard this, he smiled and asked, "In your opinion, how much of the essence of the Scottish Highland Broadsword has this young man from Scotland Yard mastered?"

Big Angelo looked at Arthur, who seemed to be in a difficult battle under the stage, and it was not easy to say it directly. After all, this young man was using his Highland Broadsword to fight. Wouldn't it be like slapping himself in the face to say that he was not good?

Big Angelo, who was not good at expressing himself verbally, pondered for a long time and finally chose to throw this difficult question to his younger brother: "It is absolutely impossible to summarize Mr. Hastings' sword moves with only Highland Broadsword. As you can see, he is not only a master of Fiore style, but also understands the German Richternar style. Moreover, I also saw some charm of the Royal Navy sailor's knife in his steps just now. As we all know, the standard exercises and training materials of the Royal Navy sailor's knife "Infantry Sword Exercises" are all in charge of my younger brother. In this regard, he obviously has more say than me."

Faced with his brother's behavior of dragging down the Royal Navy sailor's knife he created, Little Angelo could only curse in his heart, but he still kept a smile on his face.

"Your Majesty, in terms of duels, I think the record is more convincing than anything else. Mr. Hastings is a master who can solve problems directly on the high seas with 13 people, and he can fight Bertrand who won 49 consecutive victories in London... Haha, Your Majesty, in fact, in my personal opinion, it is a bit rude to use a fixed routine to describe such a sword fighting master. Masters like Fiore, George Silver, and Richtner all learned from the strengths of many schools and finally formed a fighting style that suits them best.

And I am writing the Royal Navy Swordsmanship When preparing the teaching materials, the sailors' bumpy combat environment was fully taken into consideration, so the final draft was the three most basic and practical basic postures. Mr. Hastings's swordsmanship includes the moves of the swift sword, the routines of the English short sword, the German long sword, the methods of the Highland broadsword and the sailor's knife. In short, this is the most suitable way for him and the duel stage. I can't find anything more suitable than this. "

Lionel heard Angelo's high emotional intelligence speech, and even though he was always proud of his expression management, he almost laughed out loud.

If you don't pay close attention, you really can't hear that Angelo was euphemistically expressing that Arthur and Bertrand were performing swordsmanship.

Sure enough, even sword masters like the Angelo brothers were not immune to this. As long as the sailor's sword and the highland broadsword were taken out, they would not be willing to reveal the true face of this duel no matter how much they disliked it.

William IV, who was watching the excitement, touched his beard and nodded when he heard this, saying, "I know this young man is very strong, but it is still a bit beyond my expectation that he can get the recognition of you two."

At this moment, Arthur and Bertrand fought with swords, and the fists and the police knives were in a stalemate. Even the iron cage hanging above the duel began to linger with flashing arcs, as if the will of the two sword masters was accumulated in these countless arcs of lightning and fire.

The iron cage was like another moon in the sky, but compared with the charming moonlight, it was a little more violent and shining.

In the eyes of the crowd, Bertrand's mouth twitched, and the frost condensed on his body also melted a little bit because of the heat emitted by his body after intense exercise. He looked like a monster thawing from an iceberg.

On Arthur's side, the ice beads hanging on Guy Fawkes's mask were also melting a little bit, and lines of water drops dripped from the corners of the mask's eyes, but no one knew who these tears were for.

Suddenly, the flashing electric light around the iron cage in the sky suddenly exploded into a fireball.

This explosion was like a starting gun, and Bertrand moved. He swung his lantern shield to block the police officer's knife, and his free right hand wanted to lock Arthur's joints and drag him to the ground, but he accidentally missed it. Arthur's knee hit his mask directly.

With just this one blow, Bertrand felt that his head was about to be smashed, and a large amount of blood gushed out of his mask, and the overflowing blood directly covered his entire face.

"Hastings!!!"

Accompanied by a roar after being injured, I don't know whether it was out of shame or anger, Bertrand raised his arm and hit Arthur's shoulder joint with his elbow joint. With a hissing sound, Arthur's duel suit was directly cut open by him.

The two separated instantly. Bertrand put his bloodstained right hand into his inner pocket and pulled out a flintlock pistol, aiming it at Arthur who was about to stand up: "I didn't want to go this far! But...but why did you force me? Hastings, you're ready to be shot!"

"Oh! My God!"

"Unbelievable! The Paris Sword Master would choose to end the battle in such a despicable way!"

"Pull out the gun! This is simply a tarnish on the honor of being a sword master!"

There were waves of dissatisfied shouts and curses in the audience. Bertrand was a little scared when he saw this situation, but he saw the suitcase placed in the corner of the theater in a flash. The Paris Sword Master closed his eyes and made up his mind. He shouted at the audience: "British martial arts, nothing more than that!"

Immediately afterwards, Bertrand suddenly pulled the trigger of the pistol with only gunpowder but no ammunition. Only a bang was heard, and black smoke gushed out of the barrel of the flintlock pistol.

Arthur's shoulder swung back violently in sync with the sound of the gunshot. His right hand covered his left shoulder and opened the red dye bag hidden in it. The Guy Fawkes mask also slipped to the ground because of this violent movement.

The sticky scarlet liquid flowed out from between his fingers. His entire shoulder was dyed red by large chunks of chemical agents. Lifelike blood beads flowed down his sleeves and filled the cracks of the bricks on the ground, looking like a gurgling stream in spring.

Arthur's body also swayed with it. It was not known whether it was because he was tired of fighting or he was adding a temporary scene.

"Oh! My God! Look at what this French guy did!"

"Why does Scotland Yard implement gun control? If not, I would shoot this French guy now!"

Amidst the pity and scolding, Arthur stood up again, his black hair on his forehead was covered with crystal sweat beads. He smiled and raised his hand, which was a tightly grasped Colt revolver.

Bertrand half opened his mouth: "You..."

Arthur lightly pushed with his fingertips, and the muzzle of the revolver suddenly turned to point to the sky. Only five consecutive gunshots were heard, and the small colorful flags hanging in the air fell to the ground one after another.

Amidst the fluttering colorful flags, Arthur dragged his heavy steps to Bertrand and kicked the already exhausted Paris Swordmaster to the ground. The black muzzle of the gun pointed at Bertrand's head, and the low and hoarse voice sounded again: "Mr. Bertrand, do you know what kind of pistol this is?"

"I don't know, how...what's wrong?"

Arthur raised the pistol and pointed it at Bertrand: "This is a Colt revolver."

"Ah...then..."

In the silent theater, only a gunshot was heard, accompanied by a few lightning bolts, like the sound of the final judgment, and the Paris Swordmaster fell to the ground: "I'm sorry to introduce the new product to you in this way."

On the stage of the theater, thick fog spread again, torches rolled, lightning and thunder roared, Arthur's face and the moonlight set off each other, he looked up at the sky, his whole body soaked with blood.

Such a performance made the audience in the audience worried. Although the final result was Arthur's victory, such a victory could not make them happy.

"Mr. Hastings..."

"Where's the doctor?! Come and bandage him!"

"Oh! God, please have mercy on his plight, he is still so young, he can't lose his arm."

The doctors who had been waiting for a long time saw this and hurriedly came on stage. Some of them surrounded Bertrand and carried him off the stage, while the other part walked to Arthur and begged: "Mr. Hastings, you Let’s go to the hospital for treatment first. Regarding the piano music, today…”

Unexpectedly, Arthur just waved his hand gently, and he showed a charming smile. The white fog dissipated, and a piano appeared behind him.

"Did you..."

Arthur just shook his head, and he sat down on the bench in front of the piano with slow steps. With a long, deep breath, his bloody white gloves finally touched the keys.

do,re,mi,fa,sol,la,si……

Sound check completed.

Arthur smiled and nodded gently. Seeing this, the theater staff couldn't bear to extinguish all the lights in the venue.

The Astley Theater was plunged into darkness, and for Hastings fans, they knew what that meant.

This is the playing habit of the piano master Mr. Hastings. From the first time he took the stage, he was accustomed to performing in the dark.

According to him, this is done so that the audience can experience the music without distraction and not be distracted by the complicated external world.

Today, this darkness has obviously been given more meaning.

Most of the audience was still immersed in the shock of what they had just experienced, while a few ignorant men wanted to ask about the reason for the darkness, but before they could speak, they were severely punished by the female companion beside them.

For a moment, everyone in the Astley Theater held their breath as if they had made an appointment. They were ready to listen to this piano piece that may be Hastings' last performance. .

The length of playing time is the only time he has left in his life...

I’ll write here first, take a nap, and then continue writing after dinner in the evening.