Chapter 691: It

In the dim tunnel, Lausanne II narrowly deflected his opponent's dangerous sword.

He did not hesitate. He immediately bent his knees and advanced, rushing into the white smoke where vision was unclear, and followed the momentum with a reverse slash!

For so many years, this set of movements and footwork from the Legion's Ten Forms had long since become his instinct. It had been forged through countless temperings and melted into his soul. No observation was needed. No thought was needed.

Until his blade was suddenly blocked!

Clang!

Amid the piercing ring of sharp metal, the enemy steadily parried his blade.

"Too casual, squire."

Hearing the other party's words, Lausanne II's gaze moved.

"If you want to become a knight, be more serious!"

Knight Joaquin emerged from the spreading white smoke. His tone was stern, and with a twist of his longsword, he exerted full force!

Swish!

Amid the scrape of blades, the two separated again.

Lausanne II retreated three steps and steadied himself.

But he did not immediately counterattack. Instead, he stared at his sword, his gaze drifting.

Want to become a knight...

Become a knight...

Knight...

[Remember, squire! A knight is not merely a title. It represents a stretch of history, a culture, a group of people, a spirit, a belief... And the knightly path is an elevated road worth spending your entire life comprehending and practicing!]

Lausanne's expression did not change, but he tightened his grip on the hilt.

Faint white smoke rose and spread around him, mysterious and ominous.

Before him, Knight Joaquin's expression was calm and unhurried, as if this were only an ordinary training session.

Lausanne was silent for several seconds before he lightly raised his head and looked at the person before him.

"Such orthodox Legion's Ten Forms... Are you really you?"

Joaquin paused at these words, then lowered his blade and smiled faintly.

"I know, squire. At this moment, you must be very confused."

Confused?

Lausanne II trembled.

[I know, squire. At this moment, you are very confused. In this world, the title of knight grows cheaper and cheaper. Whether knights ennobled by the great houses, or even knights personally granted by the royal family, all seem to have become utilitarian steps toward advancement. So long as a man can swing a sword and pay the price, that is enough... And the corresponding tests, trials, and temperings grow fewer and fewer. The threshold to become a knight grows lower and lower... So why, why must we still uphold this old and backward ancient knightly method, uphold these creeds that others have long sneered at?]

But how was this possible?

"You... how could you possibly return from the dead?"

Lausanne spoke softly. He looked over Knight Joaquin, Master Joaquin, with his bright clothing and neat equipment, trying to find the word.

"And so young?"

Just like in memory.

But in the next instant, Joaquin's blade pierced through the white smoke and went straight for his throat amid the hiss of sword wind!

Clang!

Lausanne II reacted extremely quickly. He sidestepped and turned, parrying the enemy's sword to the other side. But Joaquin's strength did not lessen and his body did not retreat. His entire person slammed toward Lausanne!

Thud!

With a muffled sound, their positions changed instantly.

They stood side by side, shoulders pressed together, facing the same direction. Their two longswords twisted before them and trembled now and then in a dangerous contest of strength.

Lausanne II firmly stepped on the outer ground, his expression tense as he resisted with all his strength.

Just like they had done thousands of times on the training ground.

"No, my student, my squire. You have strayed from the subject."

Within the strange white smoke, Joaquin gave a cold laugh and looked at Lausanne at his side.

"What you should be confused about is not my age, not this kind of shallow outward appearance."

Lausanne frowned and looked at Joaquin's sword, that ancient yet sharp knight's sword. It was said to have once attended Eddie the Second until the latter ascended the throne.

Just as before.

"What you should wonder is this: Squire, why are you still unable to defeat me?"

Unable to defeat him?

Defeat Joaquin?

Lausanne's gaze sharpened.

In the next second, he felt his hand and side both empty at once, then heard sword wind whistling!

This was bad.

Lausanne had no time to think. Every muscle, joint, and organ in his body operated at high speed and instantly made the most reasonable response, letting him turn, raise his arm, straighten his body, and thrust his sword to meet the surging storm!

Clang! Ding! Clang!

Metal clashed again and again, sharp and ear-piercing, even making ripples spread through the stagnant water on the ground.

This time, Lausanne released himself. He no longer clung to the Legion's Ten Forms. Instead, he brought out all the martial arts moves he had seen, heard, learned, and practiced over the years: Meteor Strike, Smiling Sword Form, Terror Kill, Eight Cuts of Bright Candle, Ground-Dragon Break, Glacier Axe, Inch Assault, Fire-Sea Gale, Oracle-Given Instruction Form, Silent Cicada Sword... even two incomplete yet indescribably marvelous elven sword dances. He picked them up freely and displayed them all.

To receive his former teacher's inspection.

Clang! Ding! Clang! Clang! Ding! Ding! Clang!

The sounds of metal striking rang without end. The entire tunnel roiled with white smoke and flickered between light and dark under the sparks from the colliding blades.

Their shadows spread through the mist. Sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes large, sometimes small, like a revolving lantern reflecting disconnected and illusory silhouettes, ever-changing and inexplicably strange.

Finally, after more than a dozen exchanges, the two beams of light and shadow separated again. The tunnel returned to quiet.

The white smoke thinned, revealing the two standing opposite each other.

Lausanne crouched low with his sword held crosswise, ready for anything.

Joaquin stood where he was, calm and composed.

"Unbelievable. Impressive."

After several seconds, Knight Joaquin nodded with satisfaction.

"Other than three different styles of Imperial Wind swordsmanship, you also displayed martial arts from the Temple side: the Storm, Rose, and Sin Grief of the Tower of Eradication, no fewer than three veins of style. You even included the sinister moves of desert mercenaries, the distinctive martial arts of the prairie, Northlanders' life-risking techniques, short-weapon skills from the Thornlands, whirling chains from the Fire Sea people, the induction school of temple knights, and a preemptive Far Eastern sword art. Oh, even the ancient sword dances of the elves?"

Knight Joaquin's tone carried appreciation and approval, just like in memory.

But in Lausanne's ears, it only made his heart grow heavier.

"It seems you listened to my teaching, squire: study a hundred schools, use them as mirrors for each other, merge them into one, and only then can you become a master."

Joaquin, in the prime of life, seemed to see through his thoughts. The knight smiled faintly.

"But this still cannot answer that question: why?"

Lausanne II's gaze focused.

Joaquin narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you still... unable to beat me?"

Unable to beat him?

After several seconds, Lausanne frowned. At some unknown time, several notches had appeared on his own blade.

What?

He looked at Joaquin's sword. It was intact and sharp as before.

Lausanne's heart tightened.

In that exchange just now, he had lost.

Just as in the past.

Even though over these years, he had already, already...

Thinking of this, Lausanne II lowered his head and stared fixedly at the dirty water beneath his feet, his eyes hollow.

Why?

"Why?"

Knight Joaquin gave a long sigh and spoke what was in his heart.

"Even though so many years have passed, even though everything has long since changed? Even though you have found a stronger power, remade yourself, and are no longer what you were? Even though my swordsmanship concepts have long been outdated, my body has grown old, and my ability has not advanced an inch?"

"Why, squire," Joaquin sighed, "could it be that I, as your teacher, am still too powerful for you?"

But before he finished speaking, Lausanne II's figure suddenly flashed!

"Too early to say that," sword wind hissed as Lausanne roared and took the initiative to attack, "old man!"

Clang!

Joaquin blocked Lausanne's attack with one sword. It looked so easy and free.

Lausanne II stared at him in disbelief, staring at his own blade that had been firmly blocked and could not advance an inch.

"No. Of course it is not because I am powerful. As you said, I have long been an old fellow with one foot in the grave..."

Joaquin shook his head slightly and pushed Lausanne away with force.

"Nor is it because your skill is inferior and you cannot defeat your teacher."

In the next second, Lausanne II attacked again. His sword edge flickered like an illusion, stirring up a wild storm as it rushed straight at Joaquin.

But he discovered in terror that no matter how he changed moves, searched for flaws, or unleashed killing techniques, every time he failed at the critical moment. Either he was blocked, or dodged, and returned without success.

"It is because I, my dear student and squire, will forever be that teacher you cannot defeat in training, forever the person who guides you in instruction."

In the fierce battle, Knight Joaquin actually still had spare energy to speak. His voice overwhelmed the sword strikes, pierced the sword wind, and rang in Lausanne's ears with absolute clarity.

"Because I must be the teacher. From knowledge to experience, from ability to consideration, I must forever know a little more than you, understand a bit more, hide one more move."

The more Lausanne listened, the more agitated he became, but his attacks still had no effect.

"Because this thing called 'teacher,' from the moment it is given that label, cannot be 'defeated.'"

Joaquin's voice was neither hurried nor slow, as if he were telling a story.

"Because a 'teacher' naturally stands in a high position, guiding and instructing from above. And as the student, the learner, the imitator, the obedient one, even your right to challenge and question has naturally been stripped from you."

He perfectly caught a tiny flaw in Lausanne's sword momentum and stopped a killing move.

"This is one of the cornerstones by which the world operates: a 'teacher' will never, cannot, and is not permitted to be placed in the category of 'opponent' or 'enemy.'"

Joaquin curled the corner of his mouth.

"So, my student: before a 'teacher,' remain humble."

Lausanne trembled!

[Careful. If you are not humble enough to reflect on yourself, not upright and loyal, unable to be brave and fearless, disdainful of sacrificing yourself for others, afraid to resist the strong and aid the weak... If you no longer believe in these creeds, allowing them to rot and stink in your heart, turning into things you praise and admire with your mouth while privately sneering at them... be careful. When such a thing happens, often even the knight himself does not know...]

In the next second, Lausanne felt his sword meet empty air, without force to borrow!

Clang!

He instinctively pulled his sword back to defend and narrowly blocked Joaquin's counterattack, rolling away in a rather sorry state.

Joaquin did not pursue. He only waited quietly for him.

[In the end, my squire, whether you are glorious for a moment or downcast for a lifetime, invincible in your era or defeated in every battle, someone admired by thousands or condemned by tens of thousands, when that moment arrives, only you yourself, only your own heart knows: whether you are worthy of the name knight.]

No!

Lausanne roared inwardly. Kneeling on one knee, he struggled up from the ground, driving away the white smoke around him.

"I surpassed you long ago, old man!"

Lausanne II spoke coldly, killing intent abundant.

"Questioning, challenging, surpassing, just as you taught. Your student has surpassed you."

But Joaquin laughed.

"Do you truly believe that? That nonsense?"

Knight Joaquin clicked his tongue and shook his head, his eyes shining.

"The truth is, squire, you have never, nor could you possibly, actively surpass me. Rather, it was I. I 'allowed' you to surpass me."

Lausanne's expression moved.

What?

Joaquin quickly made a sword flower, light and practiced as in the past.

"That is right. A 'teacher,' especially the qualification of 'teacher,' the existence and essence of 'teacher' in this world, will never and cannot be questioned, challenged, or surpassed, unless I, unless the teacher, 'allows' you, 'grants' you, 'encourages' you to do so!"

Lausanne frowned tightly and slowly raised his sword.

Wrong.

"Only this way. Only when I, when the 'teacher,' allows you to challenge it, grants you the right to question it, encourages you to surpass it..."

Joaquin's voice grew cold, just like his gradually colder expression.

"...can you receive permission, during those few and far-between moments, to treat 'it' as opponent and enemy, to realize conditional challenge, questioning, and surpassing, to deceive yourself: 'Questioning the teacher is the student's duty,' 'The disciple need not be inferior to the master,' 'The teacher hopes to teach a student who surpasses himself'..."

Before Joaquin finished speaking, his figure moved, and the offensive rose again!

Clang!

Lausanne reacted extremely quickly. With rich experience, he saw at a glance the opponent's current strengths and flaws, raised his sword with the momentum, and blocked this strike.

But...

"But why would it do that?"

Knight Joaquin's expression was terrifying. He exerted force through his sword, pushing Lausanne back nonstop.

"Why, why would a 'teacher' allow the student to challenge himself, question himself, surpass himself? Why allow the student to damage his own authority and position?"

Lausanne II clenched his teeth, suffering indescribably.

"No, quite the opposite! 'It' does so precisely to strengthen its own authority, to maintain its own position! Destinations often require another path to reach. Goals are often seized through means that look like abandonment. Bait is given often for the sake of ultimately tying down the prey!"

Joaquin roared, and the Legion's Ten Forms followed his momentum!

It was Triumphant Strike.

Clang!

Lausanne used everything he had and barely blocked this ultimate killing move. Compared with decades ago, the other party's sword move had not faded in the slightest. It was even harder to deal with than in memory.

Knight Joaquin kicked straight out. Lausanne II could not resist and groaned as he fell backward.

"Because this arena of 'challenge,' this stage of 'questioning,' was mercifully granted to you by the 'teacher'! Only when you stand on the arena and step onto the stage, obeying its rules and its permission, and 'challenge' the teacher, 'question' the teacher, and 'surpass' the teacher, can it then rightly and naturally guide you!"

No.

Why?

"...guide you to logically, submissively, even gratefully say these words to 'it': 'Even so, you will forever be my teacher,' 'All my abilities were taught by my teacher,' 'I carry my teacher's expectations and have surpassed the blue from which I came'..."

Amid anger, shame, and pain, Lausanne II struggled up from the dirty water and subconsciously gripped his hilt, but Knight Joaquin's words were like irresistible demonic music, ringing clearly beside his ears.

"Just like a great knight who could have accomplished great deeds, yet willingly lowers his head to offer loyalty and die for a selfish and weak lord, and is thus praised as loyal! Or like an angry slave who could have resisted and run toward freedom, yet willingly lowers his head to let a cruel slave master brand him and put shackles on him, and is thus rewarded!"

Lausanne painfully closed his eyes.

Wind whistled.

Clang!

Lausanne instinctively raised his longsword and barely blocked Joaquin's slash that had arrived before his eyes!

Knight Joaquin leaned forward, drawing close to Lausanne, and said softly, "Even though you have truly, genuinely surpassed the teacher, surpassed 'it.'"

"Do you understand, my squire?"

The tunnel was incomparably quiet.

The white smoke around them grew thicker and thicker.

In the next second, Lausanne abruptly raised his head, his gaze like flames!

He stared at Joaquin before him and spoke through gritted teeth, word by word, carrying hatred and fury that even he himself could not feel.

"You. Are. Not. Him."

Joaquin's gentle smile disappeared.

"You still do not understand, do you?" The knight shook his head, his face filled with pity. "You will think, 'Ah, look, have I not already surpassed Joaquin, surpassed my teacher?'"

Before Lausanne II could answer, Joaquin's blade suddenly withdrew, then attacked again like a whirlwind!

Ding! Clang!

Lausanne swung his sword with all his strength and moved continuously, making every choice and every action as perfect as possible to resist the enemy before him: Handro Joaquin, who was in the prime of his life, strong of body, and whose swordsmanship experience had reached perfection, nearly invincible in the world.

"Because that is only an illusion!"

Joaquin roared. His longsword swung rapidly, and the Legion's Ten Forms, turned to offense, bloomed in his hands. Every move carried the bearing of war, iron-blooded and ringing, writing out the Sword of Imperial Wind to the fullest.

Lausanne could only respond passively and support himself with difficulty.

It is not him.

He is not him.

It is not him!

"That is it tempting you to surpass 'it' in 'its way'! Because once you do that, you will completely and utterly, forever and ever, be unable to challenge 'it,' let alone surpass 'it'!"

Joaquin's words carried pain and sighs, but the attack in his sword did not lessen in the slightest.

"Because the teacher, because 'it' can only maintain this rhetoric, taking the inevitability that the student will surpass the teacher, taking the helpless fact that it will sooner or later be negated and surpassed by the student, and speaking of it as a grace, a permission, a bestowal, a rhetoric of 'this is precisely what I wanted' and 'I knew this would happen all along' within a higher frame and greater system. Invisibly, it hints to you that the hierarchy between teacher and student was decided long ago, the positions of master and subordinate fixed already, and all that remains is a reward bestowed from above. No matter how strong or powerful you become, you are fucking nothing more than someone being fed by the grandmaster!"

Joaquin's offense grew faster and denser.

Lausanne defended continuously. After struggling to parry one sword, he finally could not hold on and dropped to one knee!

"Only this way can 'it' cover its own fear and powerlessness, can it decorate its own weakness and falsehood, can it rationalize the absurd statement that 'a teacher is always a teacher.' Only then, when 'the teacher is inferior to the disciple' becomes true, can it still maintain the position and authority of 'teacher,' letting the empty label of 'teacher,' which has no use after completing the function of transmission, successfully turn and become an entity filled with meaning and holding power, forever, forever, forever standing on a step higher than you!"

Within the rolling white smoke, Joaquin's gaze was cold. He raised his sword edge toward Lausanne, who knelt on the ground unable to hold on.

The final sword.

But in the next second, Lausanne's expression moved, and he struck backhanded.

Time seemed to slow.

Swish.

The sword edges crossed and scattered sparks.

But Lausanne's expression was resolute, his blade firm. Using all the experience and knowledge of his life, he attacked with the most perfect and most miraculous counterstrike he had ever made!

Chi!

The blade stabbed into Joaquin's right arm.

Clang!

With a dull sound, Joaquin trembled hard, and his knight's sword fell to the ground.

Lausanne II stood up, trembling.

At some unknown time, his sword edge had stopped against Joaquin's neck.

"You lost."

Joaquin froze.

He looked at the sword on the ground, then at the sword at his neck, and understood something.

Joaquin looked at Lausanne II and revealed a satisfied smile.

"Facing 'it,' even if your two hands have strength and your blade is sharp, you have long since entered shackles and have no power to resist."

Within the thick white mist, Joaquin showed no anger. Instead, he calmly opened his arms and exposed his neck. "For the sake of this empty label's transformation, it even used the most despicable trick: come, student. I allow and expect you to surpass me, precisely so that one day, you can become the new me, the new 'teacher.'"

Lausanne's sword edge trembled slightly.

Joaquin ignored the blade at his neck and continued.

"Just like that, 'it' captures you, making you become the new knight, new guard, new slave of 'it' under this label."

Lausanne II clenched his teeth, his expression struggling.

Knight Joaquin spoke sharply and sternly.

"It plays hard to get, rejecting while inviting, using the rhetoric of 'the disciple need not be inferior to the master' to maintain the cornerstone of 'the disciple will never be equal to the master,' ultimately establishing an eternal system of 'only if the teacher allows you to surpass it can you surpass it,' passing down for thousands, tens of thousands of years! Numbing and hypnotizing countless people!"

His expression relaxed, and he praised again.

"No one doubts it. Few notice it. Most people take it for granted. Even more defend it, willingly becoming captured by it. Ah, look. This method, how cunning, how sinister, yet how brilliant, how clever, how intoxicating."

Joaquin looked at Lausanne before him and returned to calm.

"Now, do you understand, my dear student?"

Within the mist, Lausanne stared dazedly at the person before him and shook his head.

"You are not him."

Lausanne said blankly.

"You are not Joaquin."

Knight Joaquin looked at him and laughed.

"Me? Of course I am not him."

He spread his hands and sighed.

"This so-called 'respecting teachers and valuing the Way'... see, 'respecting teachers' is only a banner, a method. The ultimate purpose is to 'value the Way,' to bind, to enslave."

Joaquin stared tightly into Lausanne's eyes.

"So 'I' am not Joaquin. 'I' am not your teacher. 'I' am not even 'teacher' itself."

He split the corner of his mouth.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. 'I,' 'I' am something higher, greater, more terrifying!"

Lausanne II trembled slightly.

"Something that makes 'it' forever, forever, forever your teacher, while you forever, forever, forever cannot surpass it, have no right to question or challenge it, and are even unwilling and unable to perceive it!"

Joaquin opened his arms, his expression exaggerated, his words fanatical.

"A terrifying shackle that no matter whether you challenge or obey, no matter whether you affirm or deny, no matter whether you are conscious of it or not, you are covered within and cannot break free from, only reinforcing it for all eternity-"

"No!"

Lausanne II roared, drew back his arm, and swung!

Joaquin's words stopped abruptly.

With a thud, the knight's head left his body and rolled to the ground.

His body tilted after it and fell into the dirty water.

Only Lausanne remained, standing in the gradually dispersing white smoke, looking at the corpse on the ground, expression dazed, eyes hollow.

"Monster."

After who knew how long, Lausanne II gritted his teeth and snorted, then stiffly turned around.

"Too much nonsense."

He took difficult steps and trudged through the dirty water as if carrying a weight he could not remove.

All right. He had, he still had a mission.

He still had to chase that...

"Was I wrong?"

Lausanne's body stiffened!

He turned back in disbelief.

In the dirty water, Joaquin's head and body shattered inch by inch, turning into white smoke and disappearing.

But Joaquin's voice still sounded, gradually changing tone.

"Is this not the shackle that you most want to shatter in the depths of your heart, Joe?"

Joe.

Hearing this name, Lausanne trembled violently!

White smoke rolled. The dirty water on the ground began to ripple and steam.

Several seconds later, a pitch-black hand reached out from the center of the water!

That black hand gripped the edge of the dirty water, revealing wrist, arm, elbow, shoulder, until an entirely pitch-black person climbed up from the center of the water and stood.

Lausanne's brows jumped, fear and shock beyond words.

Joaquin's voice disappeared.

Replacing it was another voice, cold and resolute, full of pressure.

"Was what I spoke not the thing you could not think through or understand, even as you struggled with all your strength in the blood and tears of injustice, endured humiliation and lived on among ash and cinders while despised by thousands, screamed in pain amid filth and corruption that could not see the light, abandoned yourself in resentment and fury after losing everything, and could only swing your sword at empty air, numbing yourself until madness?"

"In that case, why suppress resentment? Why bind your own hands and feet?" The pitch-black human body raised its head, revealing a face without features. "Why not turn grievance into anger? Why not let them be fully released, since this was the very meaning of your abandoning everything and returning to this world?"

Lausanne II clenched his teeth.

Damn it.

Damn it!

He quickly calmed his shock and fear, then raised his longsword again.

Just like... Teacher Joaquin had taught.

But at this thought, Lausanne II felt his entire body stiffen again.

[Just like that, 'it' captures you, making you become the new knight, new guard, new slave of 'it' under this label...]

No, no, no!

Lausanne roared and raised his longsword high, using superhuman control to force himself not to think about these things anymore.

"What exactly are you!"

The pitch-black human body lifted its leg and stepped out of the dirty water.

"I can understand that you cannot understand."

Its black body began to change, carving out line after line and separating contour after contour.

"Then how about I give you an example with the same logic, close in principle, but easier to understand?"

The pitch-black human body began to take on color, from body to shoulders, from shoulders to arms, then gradually transforming detailed features and hair...

"An example you remember more clearly, more deeply, and are even more unable to forget."

As the pitch-black human body changed, Lausanne's gaze focused.

At some unknown time, the person standing before him had become a tall and strong warrior.

He wore a heavy helmet, silver-black armor, and held a longsword with a guard.

His armor was carved with exquisite detail. The lining was made of costly material, and two streamers hung behind his helmet.

From the slit in his helmet, two gazes appeared, cold and pressing like ice and snow.

Most importantly...

Lausanne's expression changed.

No.

The black-armored knight stepped forward and raised his longsword.

"Come. Whether you are Master Joaquin's knight squire or something else, there is no need to hold back, and even less need to retreat."

Lausanne raised his weapon, his face filled with disbelief.

No.

"Cast off all concerns, use everything you have, defeat me, triumph over me, surpass me, and seize the crown of this selection," the black-armored knight's voice was as ear-piercing as a sharp blade leaving its sheath, carrying a force that allowed no refusal. "Because only then can you step onto the expedition road, prove yourself, earn a title, and become a noble, become a subject, become someone qualified to offer loyalty and die for me, for us, for the kingdom..."

In the next second, the gaze inside the other party's helmet flashed, revealing satisfaction and pride.

"...a knight."

Knight.

Lausanne clenched his teeth, his gaze falling to the other party's chest.

No.

No, no, no...

On the knight's breastplate, carefully cast in precious pitch-crystal, was an incomparably conspicuous pattern that seemed intent on showing pride and glory to everyone.

A silver nine-pointed star.

"You, you..."

Lausanne said blankly.

The black-armored knight did not move at all.

"You?"

In the next instant, Lausanne's face twisted!

"You!"

He roared, and his sword edge slashed out like a roaring wave, cutting viciously into the other party's black breastplate, filled with pain no one could understand, tearing open that shining silver nine-pointed star.

"Sword of Returning Light!"