Chapter 702: War Poems Vs. War Poems, a Showdown of Poetic Visions

"Junior Brother Ci has learned the vertical sword technique from the vertical and horizontal sword techniques. If I am careless, I will be defeated by him."

Yan Wen looked at Ci Song who was in a stalemate with him, and a smile appeared on his face, and he praised him.

"Junior Brother Yan's Confucian spear technique has also reached the level of perfection. Junior Brother is here to thank you for holding back on purpose."

Ci Song also smiled and replied.

"Hahaha, I held back, and Junior Brother also held back?"

As soon as the voice fell, Ci Song felt a more terrifying force coming from the long spear, trying to force Ci Song back.

But Ci Song's figure seemed to be rooted on the martial arts stage. No matter how hard Yan Wen tried, Ci Song never took a step back, and the tip of the long sword was always tightly attached to the tip of the spear.

"Swish."

Suddenly, Yan Wen drew his spear and retreated. With a flash of his figure, he opened up a distance of more than ten feet from Ci Song, and the sword energy and spear shadows on the martial arts stage also disappeared.

"Brother Yan, this is..."

Ci Song looked at Yan Wen in the distance, frowned slightly, and asked in confusion.

"Brother Ci, you are very strong. If we continue to compete, it will be difficult for us to determine the winner in a short time. How about we decide the winner with one move?"

Yan Wen looked at Ci Song with a smile and made a suggestion. At this moment, he had forgotten the so-called 100-move competition. What he wanted to do now was to fight with Ci Song.

"That's what I meant."

Ci Song nodded and agreed without hesitation. He was originally worried about how to defeat Yan Wen without hurting Yan Wen's face. He didn't expect Yan Wen to take the initiative to make this suggestion, which was naturally what he wanted.

"Young men have lofty ambitions, and they are proud of their iron horses and golden weapons."

"War drums shake the mountains and rivers, and trumpets blow in the sky, and morale is high."

"Pointing the gun at the sky, the stars fall, and I swear to shed my blood on my battle robe."

"When we return victorious, let's drink wine together and get drunk today."

As Yan Wen's low and rhythmic chanting echoed in the valley, behind him, as if gently touched by an invisible hand, streams of talent and emotion between heaven and earth quietly gathered, gradually weaving a magnificent picture.

The picture slowly unfolded, and in the center stood a heroic young general, wearing dazzling armor, like a star falling into the mortal world, holding a long spear with cold light in his hand, and the tip of the spear lightly tapped, as if the light of dawn flashed.

He sat astride a majestic warhorse, the horse's four hooves were in the wind, but he seemed unusually calm in this quiet picture.

Following closely behind were countless warriors made of iron and blood. They were wearing heavy armor and holding sharp weapons, shining coldly in the sun. Their steps were in unison, their morale was high, and their figures intertwined into an airtight net on the battlefield. They were majestic and unstoppable, and even the vast world seemed to tremble and dim.

The young general waved his spear, and countless warriors surged forward like a tide, with a momentum as high as a rainbow, as if even the world was about to change color.

"What a terrifying momentum, I seem to see thousands of troops galloping."

"Is this the innate advantage of people who write poetry?"

At this moment, below the martial arts stage, all the students were shocked by the vision condensed by Yan Wen, and they all widened their eyes and looked at Yan Wen on the martial arts stage with disbelief.

"Junior Brother Ci, be careful."

Yan Wen warned him, and then his figure flashed, and he overlapped with the young general in the vision behind him. The next moment, Yan Wen's whole momentum changed, as if he had become the young general commanding thousands of troops.

The "young general" was seen holding a spear, riding a war horse, and rushed towards Ci Song. The horse's hooves stepped on the martial arts stage, making a "tattack" sound, as if there was really a war horse galloping on the martial arts stage.

"It seems that if I don't recite war poems, I can't be Yan Wen's opponent."

Ci Song murmured in his heart. Since Yan Wen was reciting a war poem, he, Ci Song, also recited a war poem to match it.

"I look at my sword under the lamp while drunk, and dream of blowing the horn in the camp;"

"Eight hundred miles of roast meat for my subordinates, fifty strings of music from the frontier, soldiers are being recruited on the battlefield in autumn."

"The horse is as fast as Lu, and the bow is as loud as thunderbolt;"

"I have completed the king's affairs in the world, and won a good reputation in life and after death, but I am so pitiful that I have white hair."

As the lyrics of Song were recited, a spectacular scene of soldiers being recruited on the battlefield also emerged behind him.

Countless soldiers wearing armor and holding sharp blades stood neatly on the battlefield. They were in high spirits and had firm eyes. They exuded a bloody and murderous aura.

In front of the soldiers, a middle-aged general stood proudly. He was wearing a dazzling golden armor, like a god of war descending, and exuded an inviolable majesty. He held a long sword, and the tip of the sword pointed straight ahead.

"Swish."

A sword sounded, and Ci Song flashed and overlapped with the middle-aged general behind him. With a wave of his long sword, countless soldiers rushed towards Yan Wen.

"Boom."

Two spectacular scenes of the sand scene collided with each other. The young general, holding a long spear, the tip of the spear was like a dragon, cutting through the sky. Each strike carried the unruly and sharpness unique to youth. Ci Song, with a middle-aged posture, was as steady as a mountain. The long sword danced lightly, and the sword light was like weaving. Each sword contained the wisdom and power accumulated over the years.

Around the two people, there was a miniature of thousands of troops. Countless soldiers seemed to have walked out of the dust of history, wearing armor and holding weapons. The two camps were clearly divided, the drums were thundering, and the horns were blasting. A fierce battle without gunpowder quietly unfolded on this virtual martial arts stage. 、

The air was filled with a heavy atmosphere of killing. Although they were the manifestations of talent, they seemed to smell the smell of iron and blood with every breath.

At this moment, the entire martial arts stage was filled with a murderous atmosphere, which made the students below excited, as if they were in the bloody battlefield.

"Clang clang clang."

"Tatt tatt."

The sound of swords, the sound of spears bursting, the sound of horses trotting on the ground, the roar of soldiers... continued to sound in the sky above the martial arts stage. The generals transformed by Yan Wen and Ci Song fought from one end of the martial arts stage to the other, and the fight was indisputable.

"Junior brother Ci has such terrifying strength that he forced me to use my strongest attack?"

Once again colliding with Ci Song, Yan Wen couldn't help but feel a touch of horror in his heart. He didn't expect that this junior brother who looked younger than himself was also a genius who wrote poems, and the war poems he recited were far better than his own.

"Okay, okay, Junior Brother Ci, it's really exciting for us to fight today!"

The talent in Yan Wen's body surged, and all of it was infused into the spear in his hand. Suddenly, the spear burst into a dazzling light, and a terrifying aura emanated from the spear.

. . . . . . .