Chapter 715: Social Club (5)
Qi Honglei had studied at the Sports University and received a higher education. He possessed a deep sense of patriotism and a strong desire to serve his country. Otherwise, he would not have rushed from the secluded valleys of Mount Hua the moment he received the invitation.
He also did not want honest and sincere young men like Li Baoguo to face setbacks or get hurt. That was why he had taken the initiative to volunteer after some hesitation. However, he had not expected this young leader to be so obstinate and self-opinionated.
Is this what bureaucracy looked like? If all the leaders of Great Xia's martial arts and superpower circles are as incompetent and muddle-headed as this so-called leader, then the future truly seems bleak and hopeless.
Qi Honglei felt deeply disappointed. Meanwhile, the others cast doubtful glances at Li Xiaofei, their eyes filled with skepticism. They were all seasoned individuals; how could they not understand the hidden meaning behind the conversation just now?
Only Li Baoguo felt valued. Hugging the sheepskin-wrapped blade in his arms, he turned and walked out.
Moments later, the shepherd boy stepped onto the stage. His simple and honest demeanor immediately caused an uproar of astonishment among the audience. Everyone in the stands, including Wang Fei and Miss Fan, was utterly shocked. How could Great Xia send someone like this as their first representative?
At that moment, the first fighter from Jiepeng was also confirmed. It was Kawashima Shi, the disciple of the Sword Saint Oniba Henzō.
He wore a traditional Jiepeng samurai uniform, wooden clogs on his feet, and a long and short sword hanging at his waist. As he slowly ascended the stage, his face was slightly flushed with anger.
"This is an outrageous insult! We have crossed mountains and seas to come here to challenge the experts of Great Xia, not to be humiliated by a foolish farmer!"
Kawashima Shi pointed at Li Baoguo and shouted angrily in stiff Great Xia language, "You are not worthy to stand here, nor are you worthy of making me draw my sword. Get lost! I will not kill you."
"You damn little devil! You immoral bastard, are you looking down on me?" Li Baoguo carried the deep-seated hatred of Great Xia's people, a hatred rooted in the invasion war before the founding of the nation.
He harbored immense hostility toward the Jiepeng people.
As he spoke, he unwrapped the sheepskin and took out the iron saber he had been holding in his arms. It was a thin, dark brown iron blade sandwiched between two pieces of old tree root wood.
One side of the saber was sharpened, its edge gleaming with a silver-white light about a finger's width. Though it looked somewhat sharp, there were visible nicks along the edge. Even if it could be called a saber, it was certainly not a weapon for killing, much less a weapon for battle.
The fury in Kawashima Shi's eyes deepened. He turned sharply toward the main observation platform and shouted angrily, "A diplomatic exchange between two nations is a sacred event! Is Great Xia humiliating us by sending out this worthless fool?"
The uproar in the venue grew even louder. Some of the leaders' expressions on the main stage turned somewhat unpleasant. However, the elderly vice-national leader maintained his gentle expression. He offered no explanation and simply watched in silence.
What a joke. Would the ruling figures of Great Xia ever need to explain themselves to a mere unworthy swordsman from a tiny island nation?
Inside the resting hall, many people who had been watching the live broadcast of this scene felt a mix of shame and anger.
Even the esteemed Daoist Sanjue had turned red, silently regretting his earlier actions. In a moment of impulsiveness, he had allowed personal resentment to dictate his decision. His desire to embarrass a young, backdoor-appointed leader ended up jeopardizing a matter of national importance.
On the stage, Li Baoguo was furious.
"You son of a bitch!" He gripped his saber tightly and strode aggressively toward Kawashima Shi. "You're not even worth one of my moves, and yet you dare to insult our national leaders?"
Kawashima Shi let out a cold snort. He was now intent on using this opportunity to further humiliate the people of Great Xia. But suddenly, an overwhelming sense of danger crashed over him like a tidal wave.
It was as if a monstrous beast had locked onto him with its murderous intent. His heart pounded as he abruptly spun around. And then he saw it.
The shepherd boy that was standing ten steps away, had slightly lifted his crude iron saber and assumed a strange posture. The tip of the saber was aimed straight at him.
The lamb he had deemed unworthy of drawing his sword against had transformed into a bloodthirsty beast. Every cell in his body screamed in alarm. Years of martial training had honed his instincts, and now they were all firing at full force, warning him of imminent doom. That simple, ugly iron saber now felt like a divine weapon of unparalleled lethality.
Drip.
A single bead of cold sweat slid down Kawashima Shi's temple. He didn't dare to move. Not even a twitch. He didn't even dare to move his hand toward the hilt of his sword. He could feel that his entire energy flow had been locked onto. The moment he moved, the floodgates would burst. The volcano beneath his feet would erupt.
Why?
Kawashima Shi panicked.
"Are you ready?" Li Baoguo's voice rang out loudly. "I won't take advantage of you..."
An opportunity!
Kawashima Shi's eyes lit up as he seized the fleeting moment when his opponent was speaking. His hand finally gripped the hilt of his sword. But at that very instant—
Whoosh.
A swift, chilling gust of wind swept past and their figures crossed. The spectators barely caught a glimpse of what happened when the shepherd boy, Li Baoguo, had already appeared five meters behind Kawashima Shi, his body frozen in the posture of a completed slash.
Meanwhile, Kawashima Shi's blade had not even been drawn an inch.
Drip. Drip.
Blood dripped onto the ground, the sound echoing through the now eerily silent arena like the tolling of a great bell. A thin stream of blood trickled down Kawashima Shi's hand as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
At first, it was just a few strands of crimson. Then, suddenly, a single sharp line of blood burst from his wrist and sprayed into the air. His hand was still gripping the sword hilt with all its might and remained locked in place. But his wrist had already been severed.
Li Baoguo's strike had sliced off Kawashima Shi's right hand. Had it not been for his death grip on the sword, his hand would have already fallen to the ground.
"Ahhh—!" Kawashima Shi let out a long, anguished scream.
His severed right arm instinctively lifted as he stared at the clean-cut wound. The stark white of his exposed bone sent waves of terror crashing over him.
Hugging his mutilated forearm, he shrieked hysterically, "My hand! My hand! Ahhh, my hand is gone!"
"You call that skill?" said Li Baoguo as he slowly let his iron saber fall. The shepherd boy scoffed with utter disdain. "I thought you were something special, but that's it? You're no different from the wild wolves in the mountains. One slash, and you're done. If my superiors hadn't told me not to kill, you'd already be dead."
He walked over and picked up the sheepskin lying on the ground. He carefully and methodically wrapped his simple iron saber in the dirty old sheepskin.
At that moment, a deafening uproar erupted throughout the entire arena. Many in the audience had never witnessed such a gruesome scene before.
Even celebrities like Wang Fei and Miss Fan, who had seen fake blood on film sets, were utterly horrified. This was real. They had never seen a severed limb, fresh and raw before. Their faces paled in shock and fear.
The artists and scholars from both countries trembled in their seats, some unable to bear the sight. Meanwhile, in the Jiepeng delegation's resting hall, the disciples of the Sword Sect erupted in fury.
"Baka! The Great Xia fighter launched a sneak attack!"
"How dare he cut off our junior brother's hand? This cannot be forgiven!"
"I'll fight next! I'll kill a Great Xia fighter to make them pay!"
As the state religion of Jiepeng, the Sword Sect held an exalted status. These disciples had been raised with an air of superiority, and their egos had inflated beyond reason. Now, faced with such a humiliating loss, they couldn't handle the setback.
The old Sword Saint, Oniba Henzō, remained expressionless, but deep inside, a sense of sorrow washed over him.
He had spent his entire life devoted to the way of the sword, and had neglected to properly discipline his disciples. Now, when real competition had arrived, he realized, these so-called prodigies that were once hailed as sword-wielding geniuses were nothing more than immature children.
"Master! The Great Xia fighter was despicable! He cut off Brother Kawashima's hand!"
A disciple named Asuka shouted angrily, "We must demand justice!"