I’m a Rebel in Another World

Chapter 52: Shield Breaking Kill

On the first anniversary of Team Insect's debut at the Bloodhorn Arena, Bloodhorn hosted a grand gladiatorial competition.

It was announced that Team Insect could accept challenges from other arenas, but the gladiators sent still couldn't be adults.

This relaxed the conditions - not adults.

The definition of adult here was over sixteen years old.

So other arenas joined forces and assembled five gladiators who were just a few months away from turning sixteen.

They came as a group to challenge the Bloodhorn Arena!

Bloodhorn accepted all challenges and demanded the opponents put up a 100,000 gold coin wager.

Although it was considerable money, all five arenas easily produced the amount.

Bloodhorn had naturally prepared in advance - through spies and bribes, they obtained information on these five young gladiators.

Henwil and the others reviewed the materials and assigned their respective opponents.Unlike other gladiators, the youths participated in bloody combat where they had to kill their opponents.

When the battles began that day, just as planned, Henwil moved to face his opponent.

It was a youth who also used a long weapon - the opponent wielded a war spear about one and a half meters long, paired with a round shield for both offense and defense.

The round shield was the large type that could protect most of the body, with a crescent-shaped notch in the upper right for placing the spear.

The spear was over half a meter shorter than Henwil's custom-made war lance, with only about ten centimeters of spearhead - half the length of the war lance's foot-long blade.

The spearhead was conical with blood grooves, delivering fierce piercing damage.

The opponent had several dreadlocks tied up, stood already 1.8 meters tall with a robust build, completely unlike someone almost sixteen.

More importantly, this was a girl who actually appeared more rugged than boys.

Fortunately, Henwil's year of voracious eating made him look nothing like a boy who had just turned eleven.

Standing at 1.7 meters, though half a head shorter than his opponent, Henwil didn't face an overwhelming size disadvantage.

When she saw Henwil approaching, the dreadlocked girl immediately raised her large shield in defense, placing her war spear in the round shield's notch.

As Henwil moved, the dreadlocked girl cautiously adjusted her direction, always keeping herself facing Henwil directly.

Her footwork was steady.

Her breathing was deep and even.

Her heartbeat was regular.

Both her shield-holding and spear-ready stances were energy-efficient, classic battlefield combat techniques.

Once Henwil attacked first and was blocked by the large shield, the opponent's war spear would strike out like a venomous snake, aiming straight for Henwil's vital points.

After circling once, Henwil couldn't help but frown.

He recognized that his opponent had excellent fundamentals, playing a defensive counterattack style.

Henwil had many ways to kill her, but finding one that satisfied him wasn't easy.

There were many spear techniques to break shields, but those Henwil knew were for breaking sword-and-shield combinations.

For this war spear and shield combination, the simplest method was to break the shield with pure force.

Henwil had the strength for it too - one thrust could pierce right through the opponent's shield.

But Henwil couldn't do this, as it would clearly exceed the strength expected for his age.

Henwil, who intended to coast along until adulthood, had no desire to reveal his true combat ability so easily.

Several unfortunate experiences had taught Henwil that in this damned world, keeping some cards up his sleeve was absolutely necessary.

That left only one choice - kill her using skill without displaying excessive strength.

As Henwil completed another counterclockwise circle, the spectators from the five arena factions in the stands began booing, with some even shouting insults and provocations.

However, Henwil had already discovered a small flaw in his opponent.

It couldn't really be called a flaw, more of a minor disadvantage.

The dreadlocked girl's left leg wasn't as agile as her right leg - perhaps due to some hidden injury, or maybe her body wasn't trained with perfect coordination.

Whatever the reason, even if it was just an ingrown toenail on her left foot, the left leg could be a potential breakthrough point.

Having settled on his tactic, Henwil suddenly stepped forward, left hand bracing the spear shaft, right hand controlling the spear butt.

The blade traced an arc as he rapidly thrust around the round shield.

Then unexpectedly, he stabbed downward at her left leg.

The opponent showed remarkable ferocity, ignoring her left leg entirely while raising her shield to smash downward, her war spear striking out like a venomous snake aimed straight at Henwil's chest.

Henwil sidestepped the war spear, and as she retracted it, he suddenly stepped forward, shoulder charging into her large shield.

The motions of smashing the shield down and thrusting the spear had shifted her center of gravity.

Under Henwil's shoulder charge, the dreadlocked girl staggered back several steps.

But as she withdrew her war spear, she swept at Henwil's legs, trying to force him back.

Her sweep found empty air because Henwil had already leaped up, dragging the spear butt in a full circle to smash down.

Hearing the whistling sound of the weapon cutting through air, the dreadlocked girl's expression changed. Before she could steady herself, she raised her shield to block the descending blade.

The tremendous force transmitted through her arms forced her back two more steps.

Henwil's right hand slid along the spear shaft as he surged forward. Before she could regain balance, he kicked her shield.

This forced her back several more steps, but it wasn't over yet. Using the momentum from his powerful kick, Henwil leaped up again.

His right hand grabbed where the blade connected with the shaft, swinging the war lance in another full circle to smash the spear butt against her shield.

The dreadlocked girl's shield took another heavy blow. After retreating three steps, she suddenly felt a stabbing pain in her left foot.

The distraction was secondary - what really mattered was that it shifted her center of gravity, causing her shield to reveal an opening.

And this was exactly the opening Henwil had been waiting for. This time he didn't kick the shield, but leaped high instead.

His right hand released the tightly gripped war lance, allowing the recoil force to bounce the spear butt upward while his palm slid up along the shaft.

In mid-air, Henwil precisely grasped the middle of the spear shaft with both hands.

Holding the war lance, Henwil descended from above. The blade passed through the crescent notch in the dreadlocked girl's shield, precisely piercing her neck.

The spectators saw Henwil standing with both feet on the fallen dreadlocked girl's shield, his war lance vertically impaling her neck beneath it.

Crimson blood spread beneath the dreadlocked girl like paint slowly soaking through canvas.

From Henwil's first strike, he had already calculated this outcome.

Every subsequent strike ensured that when she countered, her left foot would bear the maximum impact.

Then, when her left foot suffered pressure and pain, it would instinctively try to reduce the load.

This caused her left hand holding the shield to shift slightly leftward.

The crescent notch in the shield perfectly exposed her vital points.

This was the opportunity Henwil waited for - a single strike to kill!

The dreadlocked girl's wide eyes now lacked any spark of life - clearly she understood why she had failed.

Henwil stepped off her shield, bent down, and closed her eyes.

He lifted his hand to pull the shield up slightly, covering her face.

Perhaps out of respect for the dead, or perhaps because Henwil didn't want to look at her still-youthful face anymore.