Triss, standing by, watched the two men tensely, secretly preparing a spell in her hand, ready to provide support at any moment.
But she soon realized that both men seemed to be absorbed in their silent contest and exchange, completely oblivious to her presence.
In the clearing in the woods, sword light flickered, figures intertwined, and the crisp clang of steel swords resounded incessantly.
Interspersed were the rustling of boots treading on fallen leaves, and the occasionally hurried or deep breaths.
Karl and Geralt fought fiercely for over forty rounds.
Geralt displayed his exquisite swordsmanship to its fullest, each attack precisely targeting the weak points in Karl's technique.
However, the almost insurmountable absolute defense of Alzur's Shield made it difficult for all his ingenious skills to translate into a tangible advantage.
Whenever his steel sword was about to strike Karl, the faint purple shield instantly deflected it.
What startled Geralt even more was the exhaustion of his stamina.
As a Witcher, strengthened by mutations from the Trial of the Grasses, his endurance far surpassed that of ordinary people.
But at this moment, fine beads of sweat had seeped from his forehead, his breathing had become slightly heavy, and his chest rose and fell slightly.
In contrast, his opponent, Karl, still looked calm, his breathing long and steady, as if this high-intensity confrontation was just a stroll.
"This endurance... it's practically inhuman..." Geralt's assessment of Karl's physical prowess was once again updated in his mind.
This was even more monstrous than him, a 'freak' in the eyes of ordinary people!
Feeling that most of his stamina was depleted, Geralt suddenly leaped backward, creating distance, and at the same time raised his left hand, signaling a pause.
He needed to adjust his strategy, not just tactically.
He took a deep breath, calmed his breathing, his cat-like eyes fixed on Karl.
He spoke in his characteristic low voice: "Karl, stop holding back your strength, attack me with your full power."
Karl was startled by the words, a look of hesitation on his face: "Lambert, this..."
"I need to know your limits, this isn't a matter of pride," Geralt interrupted him, his tone serious.
"Facing a Vampire Bird, any misjudgment could lead to both of us dying, and I know you've been holding back."
"Let me see your true strength, so I can know how to cooperate with you."
"Or... at least know how to avoid your attack range."
Geralt's words were reasonable and completely based on practical combat.
Karl pondered for a moment, then nodded: "Alright, be careful."
Karl resumed his stance; this time, he no longer deliberately restrained his strength.
Although he still wasn't using his full power, his strength had already increased to about fifty percent.
This was already far beyond the level he displayed when dealing with those 'tin cans' during the Martial Arts Tournament.
After all, Geralt was only wearing light leather armor and hadn't consumed any decoctions or potions; he feared that any more would be too much for him to handle.
Geralt concentrated fully, his Witcher senses heightened to the extreme, ready to meet Karl's offensive.
Karl stepped forward, his movements seemingly no different from before, still that powerful, heavy mid-level slash.
But this time, the sound of the steel sword cutting through the air became dull and terrifying, as if even the air was being torn apart.
Geralt's pupils contracted slightly; he chose not to dodge, but rather to parry with his steel sword, attempting to dissipate the force with the most standard blocking posture.
"Clang!!" A colossal sound, completely different from the previous crisp clang, exploded like a heavy hammer striking an anvil.
The instant the two swords clashed, Geralt felt an indescribable, immense force, like a mountain flood, surging along the blade.
His right hand, gripping the sword, instantly went completely numb, the web of his thumb and forefinger split and bled, and his five fingers could no longer grasp anything.
"Buzz—" The steel sword in his hand let out a wail, flew out of his grasp, and spun to embed itself in the ground a few meters away, its hilt still trembling incessantly.
And Geralt himself was sent flying backward, lifted off the ground by this immense force.
He barely adjusted his posture in the air, but still couldn't steady himself after landing.
He stumbled backward four or five steps, making a "thump-thump-thump" sound.
Finally, relying on his excellent balance and a clumsy hand-support on the ground, he barely managed to stop his retreat.
He knelt on one knee, his left hand supporting the ground, his right hand hanging limply, trembling slightly.
His entire right arm was completely numb and almost devoid of sensation.
He raised his head and looked at Karl, who still maintained his chopping posture.
His usually calm cat-like eyes were filled with undisguised shock.
This strength... it was too terrifying! This was simply not the strength a human could possess!
It was comparable to those monsters renowned for their immense strength, like rock trolls, shaelmaars, and even far surpassed them.
Geralt knew very well that even if he drank the Thunderbolt potion, which greatly increased strength, and the Blizzard potion, which improved reaction speed.
He would absolutely not reach the level of pure, almost crushing strength that Karl had just displayed.
He was a Witcher, having undergone the Trial of the Grasses, with physical attributes far exceeding those of ordinary people... but in front of Karl, in terms of strength alone, he felt no different from an untrained common farmer.
And an ordinary person, facing Karl... he dared not even imagine the scene... The scene was silent, with only the rustling of wind through the leaves.
Karl sheathed his sword, walked quickly forward, his tone apologetic: "Sorry, Lambert, are you alright?"
He hadn't expected fifty percent of his strength to have such an effect; he thought Geralt could easily handle it.
Geralt slowly stood up, flexing his still numb right arm, and shook his head.
His voice was a bit hoarse: "...I'm fine. I told you to use your full strength."
Geralt looked deeply at Karl: "Now, I completely understand why the King has such high hopes for you."
"Your strength... is unlike anything I've ever seen."
He walked over to pick up his steel sword and checked the blade.
Fortunately, the material was excellent; there were no nicks, but his right hand would be temporarily unusable.
"Lambert, your swordsmanship is truly astonishing."
"If it weren't for Triss's spells, I would have been defeated long ago; you are absolutely a master swordsman."
Triss, who had been quietly observing from the side, with magical light faintly visible in her hands, ready to intervene at any moment, also walked over.
Her face showed excitement and relief: "Alzur's Shield worked even better than expected!"
"Under an attack of that intensity, it lasted a full five and a half minutes!"
"As for the duration after application without being triggered... it will require longer testing to determine."
She looked at the faint purple glow of the shield on Karl, which had already dissipated.
So, the three of them stayed in the suburbs for a while longer.
Triss repeatedly cast and recorded spells until signs of magical exhaustion appeared before she stopped.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Robertt45