The Shadow of Great Britain

482: Chapter 260: The Song of Life (7k2)_3 482: Chapter 260: The Song of Life (7k2)_3 As Bertrand was engrossed in his own psychological strategizing, the edge of the stage suddenly burst forth with peals of lightning.

Nine iron pillars surrounding the dueling platform boomed with thunder, resembling nine coiled and quickly striking venomous snakes.

The blue-purple lightning roared past, illuminating the dim dueling platform once more.

Bertrand suddenly turned around, and in the thick fog, a silhouette holding a sword appeared, the figure having approached the limit of proximity.

“Mr.

Bertrand, what are you looking for?”

Arthur pushed off with the tip of his foot, his Guy Fawkes mask breaking through the fog.

What followed was not the Devil’s Trident Bertrand had anticipated, but a blade gleaming coldly — a British military saber, or more precisely, a Scotland Yard officer’s command knife with an ornate pattern on the hilt and a Wilkinson-style blade.

It wasn’t some special weapon; on the contrary, it was the most commonly used conventional weapon by Arthur.

Bertrand had no time to change his stance.

He had to release his left hand from the ax-spear, secure it with his right hand, and raise his left arm’s lantern shield in an attempt to withstand the strike again, nearly at the same moment, he replayed his old trick of opening the small hole in the shield to release light in an attempt to disrupt Arthur’s lower body attack.

But this time he clearly couldn’t succeed again, as Arthur also moved quickly.

With just a simple step back, he dodged the direction of the lantern’s light.

Arthur stepped on the long handle of the ax-spear, just as he had a year ago when he stepped onto the gangplank between two ships to attack the Barbary Pirates, rapidly advancing along the handle.

The ax-spear, already overwhelmingly heavy, now bore the weight of an adult man which made it impossible for Bertrand to lift it.

The Paris Sword Saint decisively abandoned his weapon again, confronting the enemy simply with his offhand lantern shield.

Sword light intermingled, and the fist spike attached to the lantern shield’s plated glove collided with the officer’s sword several times in the blink of an eye, with the audience even vaguely seeing sparks scattered by the blade falling into the fog that could drown both men’s lower bodies.

Arthur swung horizontally, cleaving through the leather arm on Bertrand’s right chest, the fist spikes penetrating, and Arthur’s Guy Fawkes mask also swiftly displayed several cracks.

In the box, the Angelo brothers couldn’t help but show a trace of delight on their faces, the words they had just thought of criticizing swallowed back down.

Duke Wellington lifted his wine glass and nodded slightly, “These moves, I see clearly, are standard military swordsmanship.

Typical Scotland Yard broadsword techniques.

The 42nd regiment soldiers relied on this very highland broadsword technique in the Battle of Four Arms Village, playing a significant role by engaging the enemy up close with fearless courage, repelling Ney’s charge, thus securing Marshal Blücher of Prussia’s flank at Waterloo.

If it weren’t for them and Prince Orange, who was in charge and fought the enemy with fewer numbers, we in England definitely could not have waited for Prussian reinforcements.

On this note, Mr.

Angelo, I must thank you; you too were one of the heroes of Waterloo.”

Angelo the elder was pleasantly surprised, clinking his wine glass with Wellington, “Your Excellency, you flatter me.It is also my honor to be responsible for training the Black Guard Corps; I am glad that what I have done truly helped Britain, and helped you as well.”

King William IV, hearing this, smiled and inquired, “Then in your opinion, how much of the essence of the Scottish highland broadsword technique does this young man possess from Scotland Yard?”

Big Angelo glanced at the stage where Arthur appeared to be struggling, and it was difficult for him to directly say, as after all, the young man was using his highland broadsword technique to fight.

Saying it was ineffective would be like slapping his own face.

Big Angelo, not skilled in verbal expression, pondered for a long time, finally deciding to toss this difficult question to his brother: “Merely with highland broadsword technique, one cannot summarize Mr.

Hastings’s sword techniques.

As you see, he’s not only a master of the Fiore Style but also knows Germany’s Richtennal Style, and from his recent moves, I even detected a hint of Royal Navy sailor’s cutlass flavor.

As is well-known, the Royal Navy’s standard sailor’s cutlass drills and training manual “Infantry Swordsman Exercises” are overseen by my brother, and in this regard, he undoubtedly has more authority to speak than I.”

Faced with his brother dragging the Royal Navy sailor’s cutlass he developed into the mix, little Angelo could only curse under his breath, yet he maintained a smiling face.

“Your Majesty, in terms of dueling, I believe accomplishments speak louder than anything.

Mr.

Hastings is adept enough to handle thirteen men alone on the high seas, and yet he can fight on equal footing with Bertrand, who has won forty-nine consecutive victories in London…

haha, Your Majesty, actually in my personal view, to describe such a master of sword fighting with a fixed set of techniques is rather disrespectful.

Great masters like Fiore, George Silver, and Richtennal all differentiated themselves by learning from various sources, ultimately forming a style that best suited them.

When I was drafting the Royal Navy swordsmanship manual, I also fully considered the sailors’ tumultuous combat environment, hence finally settling on the three most fundamental practical stances.

Mr.

Hastings’s swordsmanship includes swift sword moves, English Shortsword techniques, German Longsword techniques, as well as highland broadsword and sailor’s cutlass styles, in a nutshell, this is the style that suits him best and is most apt for the dueling platform; I cannot find a better match than this.”