48 Hours a Day

Zhang Heng and the group of Germanic returned to the training ground.

At that time, the sun had already set entirely. Bach lit the oil lamp, and the remaining Germanic started guarding the training ground entrance to ensure that the two would not be disturbed.

“What weapon do you want?” Bach raised his chin and asked Zhang Heng.

“Just give me a training sword,” replied Zhang Heng.

“How about the armor?”

“No need for that.”

Bach then threw the training sword to Zhang Heng and warned, “I’ll give you a fine piece of warning first. I won’t show mercy just because I’m impressed by you. You’d better be prepared to be beaten by me.”

“Well… Most things in this world are unpredictable.” Zhang Heng took the training sword and weighed it casually in his hand.

The training swords in the gladiator school were all made of wood. It was much shorter than a Tachi and was similar to the bronze swords from the Spring and Autumn Period. According to a saying—one inch long, one inch strong, and one inch short, one inch more dangerous—it was probably to make the gladiatorial performance look more intensive.

Bach saw that Zhang Heng had only taken a training sword, and he did not want to have an advantage in any way. Hence, he grabbed a wooden sword as well.

“Where is your shield?” Zhang Heng asked.

“Since you are not using one, I will not use one too,” replied Bach proudly.

“It’s up to you then. Anyway, you can get it if you need it later.”

Bach was finally irritated by Zhang Heng’s words. “Don’t start getting arrogant just because you knew I was impressed. I’ve changed my mind now. I’m going to make sure you stay in bed for a week.”

“Really? Then you’ll have to make sure that you give it your best,” Zhang Heng calmly replied Bach while raising his eyebrows.

The next instant, Bach charged at Zhang Heng furiously, brandishing his training sword at him.

The results—Bach experienced the same thing that happened to him seven days ago. Zhang Heng managed to dodge his attack easily. While Bach surged forward under his own inertia, Zhang Heng used his sword to block him.

With a loud tap, Bach flew backward, falling down and rolling on the ground.

Immediately, he stood up from the ground. The way he looked at Zhang Heng had finally changed. In the eyes of others, they thought that Bach had made the same mistake again, where he underestimated the enemy—one that subsequently took advantage of the flaws in his movements. Zhang Heng had used Bach’s own strength to topple him.

Bach knew very well that the training plan tailored exclusively for him by Gaby and the other trainers was to eliminate weaknesses in his previous battles. He was different now as compared to how he was a week ago. Although he still could not defeat Habitus—if his opponent used the same move again, he was confident that he would not fall in embarrassment.

Zhang Heng darted around like Habitus. Though both were agile fighters, a rather large difference separated the two. Especially with the hit that Zhang Heng landed on Bach just now—he managed to cause Bach to completely lose his balance, the real reason behind the burly man falling to his feet.

Was the Oriental man in front of him the master he claimed he was? But why didn’t he see it in him during the previous training sessions? Bach was bewildered. With doubt in his heart, he attacked again. However, only two moves later, Zhang Heng slashed his sword at Bach’s chest.

Zhang Heng did not exert too much strength in his attack, merely tapping his sword lightly on Bach’s left chest.

When he taught the kids swordsmanship in Koyama Dojo, Zhang Heng had fought similar training battles several times, and he knew the right time for him to exert his strength.

In the meantime, Bach was drenched in his cold sweat. If Zhang Heng were holding a real sword, he knew he would have been dead by now.

On the opposite side, Zhang Heng did not continue to attack while Bach was distracted. Instead, he put away the training sword and took two steps back. He then asked gracefully, “Do you need a shield now?”

Bach became deeply embarrassed when he heard what his opponent had just said. However, he doubted that he could block Zhang Heng’s attack even if he decided to use a shield. That said, he also knew that he would surely lose the battle if he chose not to grab a shield immediately.

Bach was impulsive, but he was not stupid. So, he went and grabbed a small buckler and held it in his left hand. Instead of charging at Zhang Heng, he put up an unprecedented defensive position as though facing an extremely formidable nemesis.

Upon catching sight of Bach and Zhang Heng’s brief battle, the smiles on the Germanic’s faces were quickly wiped away, replaced by gaping jaws and bated breaths.

Bach was a famous warrior in their tribe. In order to avenge his dead family, he had killed many Roman soldiers and even a centurion. Hence, they were surprised when they witnessed Habitus defeating Bach. A week had passed, and they had managed to dig up some information about Habitus’s background. They now knew that Gaby had them fooled.

In the gladiator circle, Habitus was a very famous man. Although he was not trump card material like Sethnets, he was considered the second most powerful gladiator in the Victor Arena, causing swathes of girls to have a crush on him. After traveling a long way to the arena and not knowing the opponent’s background, Bach’s loss was actually justified.

As for Zhang Heng, this was a completely different situation.

Among everyone who entered the school together was Victor Arena’s new hope, the successor to the famed Sethnets. As for Zhang Heng, he had been laying low and hadn’t spoken much. Falling out of favor, he was assigned to the Dimachaerus group, the gladiator type that had infamously low chances of surviving the arena.

By logic, Bach should have had been able to crush Zhang Heng easily.

Judging from the previous fight, this battle’s outcome was self-evident. Bach was on the losing side from the beginning to the end, unable to retaliate even with the strength he had. Although he now had a shield with him, he remained standing still, daring not to charge at Zhang Heng. Bach knew that his confidence was gone, and defeating Zhang Heng had now become a remote possibility.

Since Bach was unmoved, Zhang Heng made his instead.

He swung the training sword in his hand to match the pace of his feet. Every single strike was precise, made so Bach would find it extremely hard to defend himself. The large Germanic had to parry the attacks with the shield and training sword in his hand. After blocking several of Zhang Heng’s advances, his forehead was already drenched in sweat. The noises of the clashing wooden swords and shields resonated in his ears.

Bach knew that he could not retreat anymore, or Zhang Heng’s momentum would become more and more vigorous. And he was almost forced to retreat to the corner of the training ground. At this time, he tossed whatever distracting thoughts he had in his head and swung his wooden sword at Zhang Heng, embracing the odds that Zhang Heng would stab him.

This was the first time Bach fought back. It was all or nothing, and he wasn’t expecting anything from it. As long as he could push Zhang Heng away and catch a breath, it would be considered a success. The thing that would happen next, however, was something he did not expect. He heard a snapping sound, and when he raised his head again, he saw that Zhang Heng had taken a half step back, and the wooden sword in his hand had been knocked away, landing on the ground.

“You won.” Zhang Heng looked at Bach, emotionless. “Congratulations.”