In the training ground at night, Thales stepped forward quickly, his weapon shot out, and his sword blades stretched horizontally!

Two crisp sounds.

One after the other, the two pendulums hanging in the air were flexibly moved apart by him.

Thales took the opportunity to bully him, passed through the gap opened by the pendulum, and stabbed the person directly in front of him with his practice sword!

Boom.

His blunt sword hit the thick wooden shield in the opponent's hand, making a muffled sound.

From a tactile perspective, the effect is pretty good.

But he has no time.

In the narrow field of view of the helmet, Thales gritted his teeth, retreated from the original route, and retreated quickly!

He wants to return to the starting point unscathed.

The creaking sound of the rope swinging was heard.

The pendulum closest to the boy echoed, getting closer and closer.

Thales' nerves were tense and he could only speed up the intensity of his calves pushing on the ground, trying his best to maintain a precarious balance while retreating.

The sins of the Hell River in his body felt tense, and they became restless, but Thales ignored them.

call!

The pendulum barely missed his shoulder, but did not hit him.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief.

Very good, only the last thing is left...

"clang!"

Before he could finish thinking about it, Thales felt a sharp pain in his eardrums!

His helmet buzzed as the second pendulum hit him.

What the hell……

Thales ducked down in great discomfort, threw away his long sword, pulled his neck out of the helmet with several strokes, and desperately rubbed his left ear, which was suffering from tinnitus and unbearable pain.

Directly in front, the young guard who was training for Thales - the thirty-year-old vanguard officer Fu Laten, who always tried to suppress his laughter when the prince made a fool of himself - put down his shield and looked at the officers present.

"Keep your pace steady."

Mallos stepped forward, patted the lime-white dots on Vladen's shield, and looked thoughtfully at the two pendulums that were tangled together in the back and forth swing, making it difficult to distinguish each other.

"The force must be ruthless, the thrusting sword must be accurate, and the movement must be correct."

"The most important thing is not to be hit by the reverberating pendulum."

"If any of the five things is not done right, practice will not count."

Mallos looked away from the prince who was suffering from tinnitus without any sympathy, knocked on Vladeng's shield, and motioned to the guard officer Conmuto on the side.

"Again."

Conmuto walked off the field and replaced the thick shield covered with lime spots in Fulateng's hand with a brand new shield.

Thales finally straightened out his painful left ear and stood up in frustration:

"I do not understand."

"Why is this training so rigid: you have to go straight up and down, you can't block with your sword, you can't roll over with your body bent... just to compete with two reverberating pendulums?"

Thales looked at the metal pendulum swinging back and forth like a swing in front of him angrily.

Thank God - or, to put it politically correct, thank the sunset - the static stance and confrontation training in his martial arts class came to an end not long ago.

But instead it was sword target practice.

Thales looked at the pendulum hanging in the air, attached to the freely pushable wheel frame.

In the past few days, from pendulum training, to ring penetration training, dodge training, lunging training...

There are no fewer than seven or eight types of targets alone, and each type of training also has multiple choices with different difficulties, and there are many varieties.

Of course, Thales was beaten in new ways every day: his helmet was deformed by the swinging pendulum, he was beaten by the faster and faster rotating wheel until he foamed at the mouth, and he was covered in dust by the sandbags falling from the sky.

, I was dizzy when the targets were called out out of order...

Let’s talk about something that he won’t even admit to his death…

He missed the dead face a little.

Nicolai's training is to destroy your self-confidence in endless setbacks.

Marius' training wears away your patience through boring repetition.

In the training ground, the guards were accustomed to looking at each other. Piloga, the logistics officer who was looking after the equipment on the sidelines, wisely handed over a water glass to buy Thales some rest time.

As time went by, the young Duke of Star Lake began to gradually become familiar with his more than 20-strong Star Lake Guards, even though he had to attend numerous classes every day.

In the team of pioneer officers, whether due to family background or personality, Karen Glover is vaguely the leader, while "Zombie" himself is introverted, reliable and has no complaints (a huge contrast to D.D), and he is also deeply loved.

With the trust of Marius, the watchman entrusted many matters to his hands. Under the leadership of Glover, the eight pioneer officers under Duke Thales were all vigorous and resolute, with distinctive personalities. They had fought against Thales.

Among them are the left-handed swordsman Zonevid, including Vladeng, who is now his sparring partner.

The six-member bodyguard team was closest to Thales. Unexpectedly, the funny and cynical Danny Doyle actually thrived among them ("Who wouldn't want to be with a rich tycoon?"

"Where are my friends?" - Marius said casually during the meal). There are many friends who are united as one. For the sake of the prince's momentum of bullying men and women, Kong once competed with Thales and was promoted from a security officer to a guard.

Muto is also one of them.

There are a total of six people in the penalty wing and the logistics wing. The former is led by Gray Patterson, a fussy bald little old man ("Hey, do you know why that guy's nickname is 'Gardener'? Because, once he was in the grass

We caught a guy having an affair with a maid, and then—Oh, sir, you’re actually here, sir. I had to urinate first, hehe!"—and met him at the corner thirty seconds later.

Doyle of Patterson).

Devord Strauss, who was in charge of logistics, had a pleasant face and often asked Thales with a smile if he was satisfied with the food and expenses ("How stupid do you have to be to believe that the guys in charge of accounting and money management will be good people?" -

—Doyle chewing his bread hard).

Hugo Fubi, who was holding the flag wing, had a gloomy expression, appearing and disappearing, walking silently ("Maybe he died a few years ago, and only ghosts are left floating in the air, but we don't know it." - with a full face.

Doyle, who was picking his teeth with enjoyment), he and his two flag-bearer subordinates only communicated with Marius and rarely directly participated in the affairs of the Guard.

And (according to Thales' malicious speculation) the captain of the guard who "beats anyone with a 50-50 chance" and the watchman of the guard, the respected Wang Yuyan - cough cough - Lord Tormund Mallos, led his direct subordinates

The three subordinates, as well as the leaders of the above five wings, arranged the complicated and newly arrived Star Lake Guards in an orderly manner and the work went smoothly, especially when the banquet was about to come. It had to be said that there was still a certain way.

“Target practice doesn’t mean you can be opportunistic and live up to your story.”

Mallos looked at Piroga without disapproval—D.D., who was supposed to serve the prince, had not yet completed his sentence as a cook—and handed the water glass to Thales:

"In the past six years, you have learned from the Northlanders the art of fighting every move."

"This may have given birth to your power of termination..."

"But that also means exchanging blood for blood, seeking victory in danger, it means moving forward even when the eyes are red, and gritting one's teeth even when the blade is broken. It means leaving no escape route, regardless of severity, half betting on luck, half betting on luck.

crazy."

The watchman's eyes narrowed slightly:

"In reality, this kind of situation will only happen when the weak attacks the strong and the chance of winning is very small. It is a last-ditch fight. If you don't succeed, you will be defeated."

Thales returned the water glass to Piroga, soothing his sore muscles.

"But more often than not, you will hold a lot of chips, but face complex enemies and more constraints. If you pull one move, your whole body will be affected. You have choices but it is difficult to make a choice."

Mallos narrowed his eyes:

"At this time, what you need is not just the will to sacrifice for a moment, but the accumulated movements, habits, concentration, calmness, sharpness, and courage that you have accumulated through daily training."

"That's what you're here for today."

Well, Thales admitted that, at least in words, Mallos could still completely torture the Fallen Stars. If you listen to this trick...

As for the others?

"Battle is a well-prepared and carefully planned battle. All aspects must be considered, every factor must be taken into account, and preparations must be made, instead of just muddle along and take it as it comes," Mallos said leisurely:

"This is the insight left by the former watchman of the Guards. He was highly skilled and was once responsible for guarding the Mindis Hall."

Thales' thinking paused for a moment.

This time, the prince turned his head and looked at the vast but exquisite and unique courtyard of Mindis Hall again with complicated emotions.

The breeze blows, and under the illumination of the ever-extinguishing lamps, the Mindis Hall at night looks more like a tourist attraction than a serious and restrained royal family home.

Former watchman.

Guard Mindis Hall.

"Your ex."

Thales turned back:
To be continued...