Iron Powder and Spellcaster

[Hunting Ground]

The silver horse knight is skillfully teasing the prey on the east side of the hunting ground. People with sharp eyes have noticed something strange on the other side of the hunting ground:

"Look! That golden-haired boy is still alive!"

"ah?"

"Oh, he's not dead yet? He's lucky."

"No! Why is he still walking to the middle of the hunting ground?"

The noble men and women who watched the ceremony thought that even if Earl Harlan was not dead, he would at least be seriously injured.

Therefore, when they saw the blond fighter stand up unsteadily and walk towards the bison alone again, they were shocked beyond words.

Seeing Siegfried return to the stage, a faint smile appeared on the corner of little Hernan's mouth.

He waved the gun flag, and eight more gladiators immediately entered the enclosure. Four of them were on horseback and four on foot, each holding a flag-bearing spear or cloak.

Little Hernan's eight assistants stood scattered around Siegfried, keeping a distance of more than ten meters from the latter.

Seeing that everything was ready, little Hernan on horseback took off his hat with a huge feather and gracefully waved his hat to the audience.

Then, little Hernan led the bull towards where Sigfrid was.

But he didn't let the bull charge directly at Siegfried.

When the bull was less than twenty meters away from Siegfried, two assistants of Hernan Jr. took the initiative to "take over" the bull.

Among them, the assistant on horseback was tall and kept tapping the stirrups with the tip of his spear. The shorter walking assistant let out a loud, short roar.

The actions of the two assistants successfully diverted the Bull's attention.

Confused by the sudden noise and the enemy, the bull stopped chasing little Hernan and did not pounce on Sigfrid.

After a brief hesitation, the bull attacks the walking assistant.

The short assistant who was attacked was not surprised but delighted. There was no trace of fear on his face. He spread out his cloak with both hands and ran around the bull in large strides.

But how can two legs outrun four legs? In just a few steps, the bull caught up with the short assistant.

At the moment when the bull's horns were about to pierce the short assistant, the short assistant's raised cloak caused the bull to mistakenly believe that it was about to hit something huge.

Then the bull suddenly waved his horns and raised his head.

The short assistant caught the bull's slowing down when it lifted up, and waved his cape to guide the bull to his side, narrowly avoiding its horns.

At the same time, he leapt to the side of the bull, put away his cloak, and quickly retreated into the distance.

The bull suddenly lost its target and stood there, panting.

With this set of smooth movements, the short assistant won the applause of the audience. He also took off his hat and waved it to thank the applauding noble men and women.

Just like that, the bull stopped about ten meters away from Siegfried, and Hernan's assistants quietly backed away to make room.

Most of the nobles who watched this performance did not understand the undercurrents surging underwater, and thought that little Hernan was the rescuer arranged in advance.

But when they saw that the "resurrected" Earl Harlan was continuing to fight, many people applauded sincerely.

Standing in the middle of the hunting ground, Siegfried understood - this was "little Hernan's help".

Only now did he have time to look at his opponent for the first time.

The bull's tongue was drooping, and white saliva continued to flow from its mouth. This wild creature was exhausted at this moment, and the shiny black fur under its neck changed color because it was soaked with blood.

It was seriously injured, and the wounds left by Sigfrid on its body were still bleeding, especially the last fatal stab.

But its expression was very calm - as if it had been calm from beginning to end.

Sigfrid lowered his head and looked at the rapier and robe in his hands. No matter what the reason for this fight was, it could only end with the death of one party.

Sigfrid slowly raised his rapier and waved his burqa.

The bull charges again.

Watching a huge beast of nearly 700 kilograms collide head-on with you at a speed of 30 kilometers per hour, not being able to turn around and run away immediately is an act of bravery worthy of praise.

But Siegfried had to do something more difficult. He also had to send a slender curved sword into the heart of the bull.

Siegfried, shirtless - his clothes had been cut and torn off by Farnan - stood erect, waving his burqa gently with only his right hand.

He trusted Farnan's judgment, and Farnan did not disappoint him.

The bull literally goes straight towards the burqa, not towards the human being hiding in the edge of the burqa.

The people watching the ceremony did not know what Siegfried was doing. They only saw the bull running towards Siegfried, and Siegfried stood motionless.

Seeing that the blond "beauty" was about to die in the next moment, people in the stands and fences couldn't help but scream.

"ah!"

However, the sharp horn missed Sigfrid's waist by a hair's breadth. At the same time, Sigfrid jumped up and stabbed hard at the bull's back with the sword in his left hand.

The tip of the curved sword met the bull's back at a slight angle and eventually slipped away, leaving only a bloody groove on the bull's back.

People who witnessed this scene couldn't help but let out a sigh of regret again:

"oh……"

The charging bull quickly turned around and pointed its horns at Siegfried again.

At this time, the two assistants who had just retreated stepped forward, yelled, knocked, and waved their cloaks to provoke the bull, leading the bull away from Sigfrid.

…

[outside the paddock]

Fanan held the hilt of the sword tightly with one hand and held on to the fence with the other hand. He watched the situation in the field intently, as if he would rush into the hunting ground to save people in the next second.

After getting off the field, little Hernan, who had just tied his horse, trotted to Fanan's side, holding his hat all the way: "Did I miss anything?"

"No." Fanan bent down deeply, still looking at the field: "Thank you for your help, Mr. Hernan."

"Are you tired of being so polite all the time?" Little Hernan put his arm around Farnan's shoulders affectionately: "But that's all I can do to help him. The sword that can really kill the bison has to be struck by himself. . But...if Earl Harlan loses his temper, you can work under me! How about it?"

Farnan deftly stepped back half a step, keeping an arm's distance from little Hernan.

Little Hernan shrugged regretfully and looked into the paddock: "You don't have to worry too much. Count Harlan has consumed a lot of the bison's energy and lost a lot of blood. I led the bison to run for a while. . Now the strength and speed of the bison are far less than what they were at the beginning, so I think Earl Harlan’s chances are probably..."

Little Hernan made an optimistic judgment: "Half."

Fanan silently held the hilt of the sword.

"So to be honest, if Count Harlan messes up, you might as well become my adjutant." Little Hernan patted his chest with great pride: "My father is the Marshal of the Empire!"

…

[Inside the paddock]

Siegfried was temporarily unaware of the fact that someone wanted to poach his lieutenant.

He is gradually entering a state of total selflessness.

Every previous round of fighting and every confrontation made him more and more "familiar" with this bull.

At this moment, Sigfrid understands the opponent in front of him just like he understands his friends and his enemies:

The width and direction of its horns, its reaction when attacked, the speed at which it turns, its usual movements...

Sigfrid raised his curved sword and unfolded his burqa.

Little Hernan's assistants originally wanted to give Earl Harlan a little more breathing time, but seeing that Siegfried was ready again, several assistants looked at each other and led the bull to Earl Harlan again.

It was another extremely thrilling confrontation, and the horns were closer than the last time.

Siegfried jumped up and drew his sword.

Or not!

This time the sword penetrated deeper than last time, but it only penetrated less than a foot and could not go down again. It must have got stuck in the bone seam.

Siegfried endured the severe pain in his palm and pulled out the curved sword when the bull turned around.

The assistants quickly stepped forward and led the bull away again.

…

[Outside the hunting grounds]

"Oops!" little Hernan suddenly shouted: "[sequence of intense and surprised Castilian expletives]!"

Fanan turned his head sharply.

Little Hernan widened his eyes and asked, "Is Count Harlan left-handed?"

"Yes." Fanan replied without hesitation: "What's the problem?"

Little Hernan put his hands on Farnan's chest and explained quickly: "The bison's heart is also on the left side, understand? A gladiator has to use his right hand to insert it! Earl Harlan is left-handed, and his heart is on the left side." The robe is held in his right hand, so he can only hide to the left, as the sword cannot be inserted in that position!"

When Fanan heard this, he immediately looked into the hunting ground.

Little Hernan was extremely annoyed: "Just now I said that Earl Harlan had a 50% chance of winning, but now he may not even have a 10% chance..."

…

[In the hunting ground]

The assistant lured the bison away, and Sigfrid was ready again.

There was a shallow, bleeding wound under his right rib, which was a souvenir left by the Bulls in the previous confrontation.

If Sigfrid's shirt hadn't been completely cut open and taken off by Farnan just now, the bison's attack would have been enough to drive him away.

Siegfried didn't waste a second longer, and seemed unwilling to rest for a moment.

He shook off his gloves, and the blood accumulated in them was also thrown out.

He stood slightly on tiptoe, stretched out his left arm holding the sword, pointed the tip of the sword directly at the bull, and followed the direction of the sword blade with his eyes focused on the bull's back.

Sweat trickled down from his forehead, across his eyebrows, and finally fell drop by drop from the tip of his nose, hitting the dust.

Sigfrid was motionless, as if his heartbeat and breathing had completely stopped.

He has entered a state of extreme concentration, and nothing in the world exists except his opponent.

He just stood in the middle of the hunting ground, his naked upper body taking on a special sheen due to the blood, sweat and mud.

He stood there like a bronze statue, his arms, chest and even every muscle line were exquisitely crafted.

Not only could he control the audience's emotions, he had made everyone hold their breath just by standing there.

The bull came, and Sigfrid waited quietly. This time, he did not give way to the left.

He held his cloak down in front of him.

When he could already feel the temperature of the bull's breath, he suddenly raised his robe and covered the bull's eyes without even jumping or moving a step.

He stood firmly with both feet, thrust out the curved sword in his left hand, and penetrated between the bull's bulging shoulders from the front until it reached the hilt of the sword.

The bull's huge horns became a disadvantage now, because the horns were just wide enough to accommodate Sigfrid's body.

At that moment, many people have the illusion that the images of man and cow seem to be one, inseparable and integrated.

But that scene seemed to be an illusion, because when he closed his eyes and opened them again, the blond man was knocked away by the bull.

But the scene was so impressive that the noble men and women watching the ceremony saw the same thoughts in the eyes of others.

In the paddock, the bull stood majestically in the center of the hunting ground, and the blond man lay on the ground not knowing whether he was alive or dead.

Outside the paddock, there was silence.

The bull took a few more steps toward the blond man, then suddenly fell to his knees and bent his hind legs.

The wild creature slowly lay on the ground and collapsed.

And in the smoke and dust raised by the bull's corpse, a blond figure stood upright with difficulty.

In an instant, thunderous cheers soared into the sky.

The royal hunting ground was conquered by the man standing in the center of the hunting ground at this moment.

Witnessing the shocking sword strike, the nobles of the Castile Peninsula fell completely into madness.

The men cheered until their cheeks turned red, and the ladies threw away all rules and restraints, throwing handkerchiefs, veils, scarves and everything they could throw into the paddock. There were also many young men jumping into the fence, rushing to embrace the new legendary gladiator.

The happiest person in the crowd was little Hernan. He shook Fanan's shoulders desperately, and was so excited that he screamed: "It can really be done! It can really be done! Hahahaha..."

In the Royal Stand, Duke Lothair was delighted.

Looking at the cheering Castilians inside and outside the hunting ground, he laughed and said to his nephew: "This scene is really a bit like the grand occasion when you fought the bear, the lion, and the three beasts. I remember that time. The Tyrians are going crazy too! Oh my God, it almost made me deaf!"

"I am not as good as him, and he is more difficult than me." Although the emperor did not show any joy, he was obviously in a good mood, which can be seen from the title he used: "Uncle."

Duke Lothair was moved, and he pretended to be casual and joked: "Isn't Earl Harlan really your illegitimate son?"

The Royal Stand instantly became extremely quiet, and the hunting ground under the stand was like a sea of ​​joy.

Comparing the two, the atmosphere in the royal stands seemed extremely strange - the question raised by Duke Lothair was absolutely taboo even within the royal family.

The emperor suddenly burst into laughter, leaning forward and back. People had not seen the emperor laughing like this for an unknown amount of time.

Even when the glass bottles containing water and sand from the North were delivered, even when the Imperial Navy defeated the Fremen and regained Rhode Island, even when the indigenous emperors of the Far Western Colonies knelt before him, the emperor never smiled like this.

The emperor smiled and waved his hand: "No."

His voice was neither loud nor quiet, just enough for everyone to hear clearly.

The royal stand returned to the same atmosphere as before - cheering, laughing and celebrating for Count Harlan.

In the joyful atmosphere, only the emperor sitting at the front felt a little lonely.

The emperor rested his chin and leaned on the throne, with a trace of warmth and a little regret in his eyes - Duke Lothair seemed to see the young man who still lacked humanity once again.

"It would be great if I could have such a son." the emperor said softly.

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[In fact, even in ancient China, being able to kill wild beasts alone was regarded as an ability worthy of praise. For example, when praising some brave warriors, one would say that he can "tear tigers and leopards alive", "fight bears and stab tigers" etc.]

[Liu Xu, the fourth son of Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty, "carried a cauldron with all his strength, and fought bears and pigs with his bare hands." However, because he played too wildly, "his movements were beyond control, so he could not become the heir of the Han Dynasty.\