Descendants of the False Gods

Chapter 033: Life in the Imperial Capital (11)

That morning, the academy held another morning assembly, during which a sudden announcement was made—the registration deadline for the competition had been moved up. Today would be the last day to sign up.

As the assembly dispersed, the students scattered across the large training field began to leave one after another.

The temporary seven-person team had agreed to gather near a bench by the edge of the field.

Xiao Xiong and Xiao Yi showed up late. Hou Ting explained that the two of them had returned to the classroom to fetch something and would arrive shortly.

Taking advantage of the wait, Lan and Luo used the time to learn more about Lubing and Hou Ting’s combat habits.

But verbal explanations alone weren’t enough to understand their true skill levels. In the end, they decided to wait until Xiao Xiong arrived so they could find a place and have a one-on-one sparring match.

After a short while, Xiao Xiong and Xiao Yi arrived at the meeting spot, each carrying a bundle taller than half a person.

“What are those? They’re huge!” Lan couldn’t help blurting out.

“Ta-da!” Xiao Xiong cheerfully opened the bundles, revealing two large packs of leather armor.

“You brought all this?” Luo asked Lubing curiously.

“My family has plenty of weapons and armor. This morning, the guards helped me bring them to the classroom—there’s no way I could carry them myself. There are five sets in total, so each of you gets one. Hou Ting and I already have ours at home, so we didn’t need to bring extras.” Lubing smiled bashfully.

“Alright! We’ll take them home tonight and ask Big Dad to make some adjustments. But if Li Xin wears this stuff, won’t he be slower than a turtle?” Lan never missed a chance to tease their ‘little bro.’

“Exactly! Once they’re altered, we’ll all try them on. Hopefully, we’re strong enough to actually wear them.” Luo, as usual, thought about the practical side.

“Little bros, help us carry these back to the classroom first. Then the rest of you should come with us to get your measurements taken—body shape and size. After the gear’s been adjusted, we’ll bring them to you. In the meantime, head to yesterday’s training hall and wait for us there,” Lan said, before signaling Luo to grab one bag each and head toward the classroom building.

When Lan and Luo returned to the training hall after dropping off the gear, they saw everyone except Li Xin practicing with the wooden dummies.

Perhaps it was because the competition was approaching, but the training hall was unusually crowded today. Luckily, Xiao Xiong and the others had come early and managed to claim a section of the space.

Lan and Luo stood by and focused first on observing Lubing and Hou Ting’s practice.

Lubing’s leg techniques were genuinely impressive. Her precision was on point—a rapid triple-kick from low to high landed squarely on the dummy’s lower support, the middle area between the two crossbars, and the topmost spherical head. She followed that up with a spinning double kick, hitting the dummy with two solid thuds.

Hou Ting’s punches were steady and powerful. His stances were textbook perfect, and his strikes were clean, though slightly stiff.

Lan suggested they observe the two of them in live combat. To make the assessment fair, Xiao Xiong and Xiao Yi would be their sparring partners, since Lan was already well-acquainted with their strength.

The four cleared away from the wooden dummies and found an open space about twenty square meters wide.

Hou Ting went up first, facing off against Xiao Xiong. The two stood about two meters apart, taking their stances.

Hou Ting waited. When Xiao Xiong saw that he wasn’t making the first move, he launched the attack.

With a lunge and a low straight punch, he stepped in with a left bow stance and delivered a right jab—initiating a close-quarters fight.

Given his lack of advantage in height and size, Xiao Xiong was used to fighting up close. He relied on rapid, unpredictable attacks, circling his opponents and targeting their weak points to secure a win.

Hou Ting crouched to defend. He wasn’t short to begin with, so crouching made him nearly kneel. His left arm guarded his center, while his right hand brushed Xiao Xiong’s punch aside. He didn’t counterattack. After defending against the first strike, both his hands stayed in a protective stance.

Xiao Xiong stepped forward with his right leg, moving to Hou Ting’s front-right side, then followed with a left hook.

Hou Ting barely moved. He blocked the hook with both arms raised in defense.

Xiao Xiong advanced again with his left foot, throwing a right jab aimed at Hou Ting’s head.

Hou Ting tucked his left arm tightly against the side of his head, forming a shield that blocked the punch completely.

Seeing that his straight punch had no effect, Xiao Xiong pivoted on his left foot and swept his right leg toward Hou Ting’s supporting left ankle.

The previous attack had forced Hou Ting to guard his right side, leaving this leg sweep entirely in his blind spot. Even when the sweeping leg entered his field of view, it was too late to react.

Sure enough, Hou Ting could only tense the muscles in his left leg to absorb the blow.

To Xiao Xiong’s dismay, even after being kicked, Hou Ting’s left leg only shifted a few centimeters, his balance and footing completely unaffected.

That one move was enough to prove that Hou Ting’s bow stance was rock solid—his lower body strength was formidable.

Xiao Xiong didn’t give up. As he retracted his leg, he followed up immediately with another right punch to Hou Ting’s head.

Hou Ting, again, blocked the blow with his left arm.

Taking advantage of the moment, Xiao Xiong launched another kick—not a sweep this time, but a direct stomp toward Hou Ting’s ankle, aiming to knock him off balance.

But Hou Ting wasn’t fooled a second time. As he raised his left arm to guard his head, he also lowered it slightly, widening his field of view.

He saw Xiao Xiong’s stomp coming and quickly shifted his weight to his right foot.

Then, he lifted his left leg and curled it tightly, forming a sturdy shield with his arm and leg together, dodging the stomp completely.

When Hou Ting landed again, his toes pointed at Xiao Xiong, hands raised in front—returning to his initial stance.

Xiao Xiong realized that Hou Ting’s defense was practically impenetrable. He wasn’t attacking either, making it hard to find a way in.

There were only two options now: wait for Hou Ting to counterattack and try to exploit any opening, or keep attacking until his defense finally broke.

Hou Ting used the lull to adjust his stance again and resumed his solid defense.

The spectators were puzzled. Hou Ting was tall, long-limbed, and clearly had the reach advantage—so why was he only defending?

Lubing offered an explanation: “My dad and his father are old friends, so I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s always been passive—we even nicknamed him ‘Log.’”

Now, Lan and Luo had a basic understanding of Hou Ting. His defense was orthodox and thorough—against most opponents, it was nearly flawless.

They didn’t call off the fight. They wanted to see under what conditions Hou Ting would finally retaliate.

Xiao Xiong launched another series of attacks, this time faster and more unpredictable. Every strike morphed into the next before fully landing.

He used footwork, mixed in kicks and punches, even spinning sweeps using his knee as a pivot. He shifted constantly, probing for any gap in Hou Ting’s defense.

Suddenly, an idea sparked.

Xiao Xiong closed the distance, crouched and swept Hou Ting’s leg, then sprang up with a body slam.

Weighing over 120 jin (60kg), and with full force behind the leap, his impact came in at over 400 jin.

Before the slam, his right foot had already tangled with Hou Ting’s left leg—leaving Hou Ting unable to balance on one leg under both the external force and his own weight.

He stumbled sideways, trying to regain his footing.

Xiao Xiong rebounded quickly and wouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity.

He stepped forward again, hooked Hou Ting’s ankle, and smashed him with an elbow to the chest.

Hou Ting was knocked over three meters back, hitting the ground hard. While his physical conditioning and landing technique kept him from serious injury, it was clear he had lost.

Once Hou Ting stood up again, Xiao Xiong clasped his fists and bowed.

“Thanks for letting me win!”

He immediately turned and bragged to Lan:

“Boss, how was that? Improved, right? That last move’s my specialty!”

“Not bad. You finally remembered how to use it. I’ll count it as progress,” Lan said, playing the elder.

After Hou Ting stepped off, Lan asked,

“Why didn’t you counterattack at all? Even though Liu Xiong was aggressive, there were plenty of openings during his transitions. You could’ve interrupted him with a well-timed strike. It might not have ended the match, but it would’ve broken his rhythm.”

Hou Ting thought for a long while before answering slowly,

“A few years ago, I went with my father to the northern border and saw a steel war chariot. It was bought from the dwarves over a century ago and had seen many battles. It couldn’t move anymore, but it fascinated me.

Bored in the barracks, I’d go see it often. One of the veterans guarding it told me its story.

There were originally two chariots. When the wolf clan launched a massive attack, the Empire’s defenders—only five thousand strong—fought off tens of thousands of enemies. These two chariots patrolled the front lines, helping hold the enemy back. One was destroyed after thousands of fire bombs melted it from the inside. The other barely made it back, but now it’s just a stationary turret.

That war chariot was covered in scars but only stopped moving because of old age.

I wanted to become like that—a steel wall shielding the Empire’s northern border.

So I started learning martial arts, training as a shield warrior. My dad was proud and found veterans to teach me. But I’m introverted, don’t have many friends, and rarely spar. So I struggle to grasp attack rhythms.

I want to defend like the war chariot—invincible. And then strike like its cannon—overwhelming.

But… I’ve never found the right moment.

That’s why I didn’t sign up for the solo competition. I don’t know how someone who only defends can win.”

Everyone fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

It was Luo who finally spoke:

“I train in shield-and-sword techniques too. It’s about defense first, counterattack second. But no matter the class—greatsword, sword-shield, spear-knight, bow-warrior, or shield-fighter—every warrior needs offensive skills. That war chariot had cannons too, right?

If you only defend, someday you’ll end up like the one that burned.

If you want to be a warrior, you need to choose to attack.

It’s okay if you can’t change overnight. We’re in the team competition anyway. Even if we lose, no one will blame you.

Today’s match was just so we could understand each other and arrange roles. Don’t stress. If you want to grow stronger, take your time. We’re teammates now—and friends. If you want to improve, we’ll help you.”

“…Can I be your friend too?” Lubing asked softly.

“Of course. It’s not like we have any bad blood. We’re honored—your dad’s a general, after all.” Lan was as straightforward as ever.

“We kids from the border rarely make friends in the capital. This place is full of nobles. We’re nobles too, technically, but we hardly interact with others. People here call us ‘little brutes,’ so no one really talks to us. I’m really grateful… Thank you for treating us as friends!”