Just as Chen Mo launched forward, Baron Strucker — who had been watching him intently — instantly caught on to his intent. The baron's feet shifted, his steps swift, fluid, and unpredictable, darting in strange rhythms that made it impossible for Chen Mo to read his movement. His sword stroke hesitated for only a heartbeat — but that was all Strucker needed.
Seizing the brief pause, Strucker's rapier, already coiled like a spring, thrust forward with lightning precision, striking the flat of Chen Mo's Sword of the King near the tip.
The Sword of the King was a two-handed knight's longsword, nearly a meter long, designed for mounted combat. Chen Mo was wielding it one-handed and had not used his full strength; so when the rapier's blade hit the edge, it deflected the strike to one side, completely ruining his aim.
An attack that would have crushed most foes was effortlessly neutralized — not even grazing the baron's coat.
But instead of anger, Chen Mo felt exhilaration.
Strucker's swordsmanship was far stronger than he'd expected. That only meant his own skills still had plenty of room to grow.
Gathering his focus, Chen Mo raised his blade again, and the two men resumed their deadly dance.
Chen Mo's swings were wide and heavy, every strike cleaving through the air with raw power. Strucker dared not meet them head-on — he sidestepped, weaved, and used precise deflections to redirect the force.
The baron's swordplay was cunning and agile, his blade flashing from unexpected angles that forced Chen Mo into hurried parries and awkward dodges.
The not-so-large control room became their battleground — shadows and steel flickered, swordlight flashing in a blur of motion.
The factory supervisor, still cowering behind the console, nearly stopped breathing. Terrified, he pressed his body flat against the machinery, afraid that one stray swing might slice him apart.
It wasn't that he didn't want to escape; he simply couldn't.
The duel was too intense — both combatants moved at blinding speed, their forms flickering through the room. He couldn't tell where they were, or where they would appear next.
If he tried to run, there was every chance he'd step straight into a flying blade.
The clash dragged on. To the eye, they seemed evenly matched, but in truth, Chen Mo — who had deliberately held back his full power — was beginning to struggle to fend off the baron's rapid, unpredictable thrusts. His combat suit was now shredded, revealing the dark alloy armor underneath.
Yet Strucker felt no satisfaction. Though most of his strikes had only torn cloth, a few had landed true — only to meet something unyielding.
The feedback through his sword had chilled him. Through the slashes in Chen Mo's uniform, he saw it clearly — a full-body black armored suit.
Its design matched the masked helmet, and with each fruitless strike, his suspicion was confirmed. This was no mere battle suit — it was a complete, high-grade defensive armor.
Even so, it wasn't without weaknesses. Between the armor plates, there were faint seams — minuscule gaps where the plates joined.
But even for a swordmaster of his caliber, hitting those tiny seams in the chaos of motion was nearly impossible.
And even if he managed to pierce one, his rapier's blade was too thin to drive deep through the layered defense.
At most, the tip might scratch through to flesh — a superficial wound, nothing fatal.
Meanwhile, the prolonged combat was wearing him down. His stamina was failing.
But Chen Mo's assault — impossibly — showed no sign of slowing. He moved like a machine, precise and relentless.
Then Strucker realized something far more terrifying.
As they fought, Chen Mo's swordsmanship… was improving.
Each exchange was sharper, cleaner — the rhythm smoother, the timing subtler. It wasn't drastic, but the baron could feel it.
Chen Mo was learning from him — adapting in real time.
The realization made Strucker's heart clench. Shocked by his opponent's monstrous growth, and unable to break through, he finally began to think of retreat.
He couldn't hurt Chen Mo at all.
It was like fighting a serpent against a tortoise — no matter how venomous his strikes, there was nowhere to sink his fangs. If this battle dragged on, he would lose.
And the base's self-destruct system was already counting down. In just a few minutes, the entire facility — along with the hundreds of super bombs stored below — would explode.
If he didn't leave now, it would be too late.
Once the thought of retreat took root, action followed swiftly.
After a few more exchanges, Strucker suddenly thrust at Chen Mo's left eye — forcing him to raise his blade in defense. But the strike was a feint. As Chen Mo brought his sword back to block, Strucker's rapier withdrew — and his left hand shot backward toward the terrified factory supervisor crouching behind him.
In truth, Strucker had been maneuvering toward this moment all along — subtly drawing Chen Mo toward the far end of the control room, near the consoles, where the supervisor still cowered unnoticed.
The poor man, pressed tight against the control desk and wishing he could vanish into it, felt the duel closing in. When the two fighters suddenly appeared right beside him, he nearly screamed.
Before he could even think of moving, a powerful hand grabbed his collar.
He barely had time to gasp before Strucker hauled him up and hurled him straight at Chen Mo.
Chen Mo, focused entirely on the rapier's point, was caught off guard.
When Strucker suddenly pulled back, Chen Mo blinked in confusion — and that was when a human figure came flying straight at him.
Instinct took over. Without thinking, Chen Mo swung.
The Sword of the King flashed in a perfect, deadly arc — slicing through the oncoming body from shoulder to hip.
Blood sprayed. The man split cleanly in two, tumbling past Chen Mo's sides and collapsing in a heap.
For a split second, Chen Mo frowned, puzzled that his strike hadn't met the resistance of Strucker's blade.
He glanced down — and saw the bisected body of the factory supervisor sprawled across the console, his eyes frozen wide in terror and disbelief.
By the time Chen Mo looked up again, Baron Strucker was already at the door.
So that was his plan — to use the man as a distraction and escape.
But rather than anger, Chen Mo felt a faint smile tug at his lips.
Another lesson well learned:
In battle, always see the whole board.
Control every detail.
Against a worthy opponent, never fixate on what's in front of you — or you'll lose sight of everything else.