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Lotr: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth - 273
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 13:22:42 +0000 UTCChapter 273: Legion Champion
"Woah!"
The next year, at Roadside Keep, large crowds gathered around a temporarily constructed arena in the military camp, watching the fighting figures above and erupting in wild cheers.
At the highest point, Levi sat in the best seat with the clearest view, watching the intense confrontations on the stage.
The first Roadside Keep Legion Individual Combat Competition had begun.
"Go, go!" the audience shouted with fervor.
Clang!
On stage, two swords clashed. Comrades who wouldn't hesitate to block blades for each other in daily combat now only wanted to knock each other down to claim victory.
"Get down, Yawen! The champion's title is mine!"
"You're the one who should get down, Aerjie! Last year I single-handedly took down a Barrow-wight alone."
"Like who hasn't done that!"
Two experienced veteran Rangers fought tooth and nail in fierce competition.
"They've really grown up."
Beside Levi, Falodan sighed with emotion.
"Over ten years ago, these two lads were nearly killed by a Barrow-wight, almost losing their lives."
"If that distress signal firework hadn't been set off in time, and I hadn't happened to be nearby..."
Falodan shook his head, ending his reminiscence.
Without that timely intervention, they definitely couldn't have beaten that Barrow-wight.
Now, in a blink, these two fellows could each defeat Barrow-wights alone and were, respectively, captains of two Ranger companies.
They had fought their way up from the start of the competition, each having knocked down over a dozen excellent Rangers, with countless ordinary assault team members and military soldiers fallen to them.
All to compete for the title of "Legion Champion."
Sword light cut through air. The two fought louder than hammering on anvils in the rain, still unable to determine superiority.
"These two are usually so close they're like brothers. Today... well, like bitter rivals."
They had nearly fought to genuine hatred.
Actually, they had been fighting for quite a while, but neither would fall.
After all, they were excellent Rangers who had fought through other excellent Rangers. Other excellent Rangers weren't pushovers either. Both had battled their way up; every part of their bodies that could be injured had been injured at least once. Without the beacon's healing effects, they would have been lying on the ground, unable to rise.
Precisely because of this, without exhausting their last bit of strength and squeezing out their final potential, neither would fall.
The sun gradually shifted westward.
Movement on stage gradually decreased.
Nearly every move and method that could be used had been tried by both, evident from various scratches scoring the ground.
"Hiss—huff—"
Aerjie, eyes red with exertion, took a deep breath. "Just this one strike to decide victory. How about it?"
"Haha, good," Yawen replied in a hoarse voice.
"Good, then prepare. Three—"
Suddenly, both launched sneak attacks the moment the countdown began.
"I knew you'd ambush me!"
"That's my line!"
Ambushes were also part of tactics, after all.
"Ha, you seem quite good at this."
"So are you..."
"Go down!"
Thump.
Both fell to the ground, continuing their grappling. One moment Yawen strangled Aerjie's neck, and the next Aerjie gave Yawen a brutal elbow strike—quite lively fighting.
In the dozen-plus years from becoming Rangers to today, these two's growth speed had been remarkably fast. Even some experienced older Dúnedain had to be careful when sparring with them—one careless moment meant defeat.
Either of them becoming the first Legion Champion would be well-deserved.
Gurgle...
Under Aerjie's counterattack, Yawen soon foamed at the mouth, his body going limp.
"Haha, I win—"
Thud!
Just as Aerjie released Yawen to declare victory, Yawen suddenly delivered a vicious elbow strike, rendering him speechless.
"You..."
He fell to the ground with no strength left to rise.
"That's what you get for not finishing the job," Yawen barely managed to stand up, taunting his old friend on the ground.
Surrounding celebration shouts for him echoed to the heavens.
"It seems the victor is decided."
Levi stood, walking to Yawen's side.
He placed a laurel crown woven from fresh bay leaves on his head.
"Congratulations, young man."
"You and your companion are both excellent. My extra points for you back then weren't wasted."
"You remember us?"
"Of course. It hasn't been that long."
Finishing this sentence, Levi paused slightly.
Not that long?
Actually, it had been over ten years.
This young man before him... no, he was no longer a young man. He had rough black stubble on his chin, skin much coarser from wind and weather, hair longer and tied back, and a physique much broader and stronger than before.
Yet those eyes looking at him remained clear and bright, giving Levi the strange illusion this fellow was still that fledgling 'young man' from years ago.
While Levi felt moved by this, Yawen hearing these words, didn't feel anything wrong, taking it as the lord's characteristic modesty.
Remembering minor matters from over ten years ago so clearly—truly worthy of being the lord.
"Rest well. I'll wait for you."
"What?"
Still grinning despite his exhaustion, Yawen didn't quite understand.
"I'll wait for you to challenge me."
Boom!
One sentence stirred tremendous waves in the crowd. Yawen felt another surge of adrenaline, this strength urging him to quickly accept the challenge.
But his body's real exhaustion and a certain awe of the living legend made him feel weak again.
"Go, adjust your condition. I'll wait here."
Yawen didn't know how he left the arena.
He only knew when he returned the sun had shifted several more degrees. The onlookers hadn't decreased at all, while the lord casually drew a standard steel sword from a nearby weapon rack, waiting for him on stage.
Like a tall statue carved from stone.
Surging battle intent rose in his heart like wildfire.
"Battle!"
Swish!
Yawen drew his longsword, charging forward with full force, striking with maximum strength.
Clang!
Sword against sword nearly struck sparks. Levi instinctively counterattacked but was immediately neutralized and even counterattacked with an opening exposed, nearly causing serious trouble.
No, he couldn't be careless. Every one of these fellows, without exception, was no longer those young lads from years ago.
Levi immediately adjusted his stance, clashing in several more exchanges with Yawen—the result was actually evenly matched.
This was warrior-versus-warrior combat, also a contest between the most outstanding and most experienced.
When Yawen again swiftly struck down, Levi couldn't help activating a parry technique, casually attempting a disarm.
Caught off guard, Yawen's sword was seized, and the crowd gasped in shock.
However, Yawen didn't panic. Almost instantly he reacted, immediately drawing his dagger to skillfully parry, neutralizing Levi's follow-up attack.
"Watch out."
Levi's warning came. Yawen immediately felt something wrong. The next moment, Levi used a sweeping strike, quite incredibly knocking his entire person airborne.
Then, Levi leisurely switched to a bow, aiming at the airborne Yawen—he just kept aiming until he landed.
"You lost, kid."
"No." Yawen stood up, quite boldly refuting. "I haven't lost, my lord. Try again."
He showed a confident smile, looking at Levi with determination.
"Oh?"
So Levi again knocked him airborne, nocking an arrow to the bowstring. But this time, trusting Yawen's confidence, he actually shot the arrow.
Worst case, I'll pour him a healing potion...
Clang!
A crisp metallic sound rang from midair. Yawen threw his dagger with perfect precision, striking that arrow and blocking it.
This move truly startled Levi.
Because even he might not be able to pull that off consistently.
Thump.
Yawen landed. Levi immediately shot a second arrow.
Now Yawen had no weapons left. He would have difficulty—
Smack!
This arrow was also blocked.
Almost the instant he landed, Yawen quickly drew his bow and shot an arrow.
That arrow struck the arrow Levi shot, stopping it cold.
"Woah!"
"Yawen! Yawen!"
"Interesting," Levi couldn't help laughing.
This precision was almost comparable to Bard's legendary marksmanship.
And it seemed quite a portion of qualified, excellent Rangers knew this technique...
This fellow... fighting him using normal methods is truly tricky...
Yes, tricky.
Levi tossed back the confiscated sword. Yawen caught it steadily.
"Come, continue."
Yawen smiled broadly.
Both continued fighting. This time Levi's offensive was much fiercer. He abandoned disarm techniques, sweeping strikes, and sword beams—these external sword techniques others couldn't master—using only his normal wild fighting style.
Thud!
Substantially, Yawen felt immense pressure, only because every sword strike of Levi's was delivered with maximum force, not knowing what holding back meant.
In battle, conserving strength while engaging enemies was to maximize use of stamina, using power where it should be used, to deliver a killing blow at critical moments.
But Levi didn't need to do that.
Every strike could be full force without concern.
Scrape!
The sword scraped against the stone floor, striking sparks while approaching Yawen relentlessly, compressing his space again and again. Yawen could only constantly maneuver, busy responding. Many times seemingly finding opportunities to strike, yet always feeling something improper, forcibly retreating.
As if no matter how he struck, ultimately he would definitely drag himself into disadvantage.
Crack!
Levi stepped forward again but struck empty air. He looked up to see Yawen, gasping for breath while retreating, looking at him with genuine horror.
That last sword strike had hit the floor.
After this sword strike, it broke clean in half.
This sword, under Levi's tremendous abuse, had finally exhausted its durability completely.
Looking at horrified Yawen, Levi smiled awkwardly.
Equipment durability... in others' hands actually performed quite vaguely, but once in his hands became especially clear—breaking exactly when it should, not a moment more.
Only Sting, that First Age-forged sword with extremely high durability that could even self-repair, could withstand his sustained abuse. Other weapons, unless enchanted with Mending, couldn't even last half a serious battle.
Empty-handed Levi smiled, but this smile seemed especially terrifying to Yawen.
Even the sword broke—the lord's coming to kill me with his bare hands!
"I don't—"
"Catch!" Falodan, beside them, very timely tossed over a brand-new sword for Levi to continue fighting.
Yawen's words choked back in his throat.
My instructor!!
He cried out inwardly in betrayal.
This was a battle lasting quite a while longer.
The final result was Yawen collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
Yes, exhaustion. His fall was better described as complete 'exhaustion' rather than being beaten down.
He did his best, truly his absolute best.
After Levi left the arena, a hand reached over.
"Well done, Champion."
"Aerjie..."
Yawen grasped that hand, struggling to stand on shaking legs.
"The lord's strength is truly unfathomable."
"Isn't that natural? Don't forget the lord killed a dragon—an evil dragon over a hundred meters long, not a little fellow like Little Pink."
"Without bottomless strength, how could anyone oppose dragons?"
"Alright, you're right."
Yawen felt strangely relieved.
"Except at the very beginning when I could barely match the lord evenly, afterward I was basically chased and beaten the entire time."
"You saw the rest."
He shared his hard-won experience.
"If you went up instead, what would you do differently?"
"What would I do? Same as you, of course," Aerjie admitted honestly.
"I couldn't have done any better."
At this moment, Aerjie also felt profoundly relieved.
Didn't win, didn't win—at least avoided a thorough beating.
"Regardless, congratulations, our Legion Champion."
He looked at the laurel crown on Yawen's head with genuine envy.
Under the setting sun, the laurel crown gleamed golden. The never-wilting leaves at this moment seemed to truly become gold, quite dazzling to behold.
Champions naturally deserved champion treatment.
The next day, Yawen wore a cloak with intricate green leaf patterns—patterns unique to him, representing the highest level of honor.
This year was a lively year.
It dispersed some of the lingering loneliness.
