Chapter 146: Out

"This is truly astonishing. Although it's because James Langston himself had issues, Andre's swordsmanship might be even more brilliant than we imagined. Your Nathan Sports Lab tests simply couldn't gauge his true level."

Alec Brood looked amazed: "You've found a treasure, a rare gem, Mr. Dwight! He's stronger than we thought."

Dwight knew why his friend said that—using leverage to overcome force, using skill to defeat a thousand pounds. These two phrases were easy to say but hard to achieve in combat.

If one didn't have enough strength, how could they use skill to overcome a thousand pounds? Without sufficient fighting technique, how could they use leverage in the blink of an eye?

So such feats were rarely seen in battles between magic professionals of the same level; they were usually techniques used by higher-level professionals to bully the weak.

But today, Li Mochen had put on such a show before them, toying with James Langston, who was two levels above him.

Although this was due to the opponent's stiff movements, Li Mochen's fighting skill was thus evident.

"You don't have to tell me. I know. His future is indeed limitless."

"Speaking of which, we should celebrate. Doesn't your private room have champagne? Hey, have someone bring champagne—three bottles of 3958 Lamir, and make it quick, OK?"

Alec said hoarsely to his assistant, then took a deep drag on his cigar: "I'm really looking forward to seeing him fight those monsters from New York State and the East Coast. Especially the one on the East Coast—for you Nathans, that's an internal battle, right?"

"Indeed, it's an internal battle."

Dwight's eyes gleamed with fervor: "But it's also what I'm most looking forward to. And did you notice, Alec? Amo's sword speed just now shouldn't have exceeded 170 kilometers per hour."

"Of course I noticed. He was waiting at his ease for the exhausted opponent—"

Alec's expression shifted: "Damn it, Dwight, your heart is really black. You want to use our Penguin Betting again, don't you?"

Dwight smiled and took a sip of wine: "Why do you say that? I don't know what you mean, Alec."

But Alec had already taken a phone from his other assistant.

"Hey, Belham? Change the plan. We need to keep investing."

"I know, I know! The kid's strength and talent are fully displayed in this fight. But didn't you notice? Andre's sword speed didn't exceed 170 kilometers per hour!"

"We know Andre's thrust speed can reach over 700 kilometers per hour, but others don't. Ordinary people don't understand what 'using leverage' or 'skill over power' means."

"So, I need a few commentators to question Andre's victory. Isn't that simple? They can say Andre won by trickery, that anyone else wouldn't lose to him; they can belittle James Langston, calling him worthless; they can even question today's fight as a scam manipulated by the betting company. Any reason, you make it up, OK?"

"Got it? No, my heart isn't black. The black-hearted one is someone else."

…

Below the ring, William Jacques had had his mouth wide open for a minute and still couldn't close it.

"What the hell is going on? Did you understand, Mr. Holton?"

"Not really."

Carl Holton shook his head. He was a business elite but had only reached level nine in magic cultivation.

"But I can guess that the gap between these two is bigger than I thought."

"This is a technique originating from the East, very similar to the leverage in Tai Chi sword."

Coach Ricard suddenly spoke up from not far away, his eyes fixed on Li Mochen's figure on the ring, not moving for a moment.

"This fighting technique—except for Easterners who have special cultivation methods to achieve it—other magic cultivation systems can only master it after reaching a very high level. But for you, it's also enlightening. What you see here will tell you that pure strength and speed are not always advantages. So watch carefully!"

On the ring, James Langston was struggling fiercely, but Li Mochen's sword, seemingly just lightly pressing on the former's shoulder, rendered him almost unable to move, all attempts to stand up failing.

"Blue side technical foul once, three points! Side hit once, three points!"

The referee raised a blue flag, looking at the young man beside him with surprise. As a level 12 Outlaw, he knew well what those two swords that Li Mochen used to pin James Langston down meant.

"Mr. Wiltonshire, please step back two steps, OK? And Mr. Langston, please calm down, alright? According to the rules, you must maintain a distance of six meters and wait three seconds before starting again. If there's another such violation, I'll directly rule you out! Understood? Mr. Langston—"

While the referee warned Langston, Li Mochen watched him. He noticed that every part of Langston's body was slightly swelling, causing his armor to creak. Even a trace of blood flame seeped from the gaps in the armor.

This should have been a hallmark of an Outlaw—a level 11 magic warrior could overflow their source energy to form a protective aura similar to a Taoist external shield, used to resist spells and attacks. But at this moment, James Langston had already achieved this.

Li Mochen guessed this should be one of the magic warrior's combat skills, 'Heracles' Wrath.'

In Greek mythology, the demigod Heracles, in a fit of rage, once killed his own three children.

The effect of this skill was self-evident: it allowed the magic warrior using it to gain greater strength in a short time, but at the cost of losing all reason, usually used in life-or-death situations.

Li Mochen shook his head and released his sword.

"Bastard! I'll kill you, I'll definitely kill you!"

At that moment, James Langston let out a hoarse roar again, grabbing the two fallen swords with lightning speed, then charged at Li Mochen with the ferocity of a gluttonous beast.

The long and short swords created a dense curtain of blade light, almost engulfing Li Mochen entirely.

But an instant later, when the swords clashed again, sparks flew, and the countless sword lights James had unleashed were instantly cleared.

Li Mochen's 'Thunderclap' twisted and stirred once more, and even more easily than before, sent the two swords flying again. James Langston, after a dizzying spin, knelt on the ground again. The immense force guided by Li Mochen and pressed down caused the ground beneath him to crack, spreading several meters away with a crunching sound.

"Second technical foul, three points deducted! James Langston is out! Andre Lee Wiltonshire wins!"

At that moment, the referee's expression was cold as he mercilessly raised the blue flag again.