Triss, sitting on the side, watched them nervously, secretly preparing a spell in her hand that she could support at any moment.
But soon she found that the two men seemed to be immersed in this silent contest and communication, completely ignoring her existence.
The light of swords flickered in the open space of the forest, figures swayed, and the sharp sound of clashing steel swords was endless.
This was mixed with the rustle of boots on fallen leaves, and sometimes quick, sometimes deep breathing.
Karl and Geralt had been fighting fiercely for forty rounds.
Geralt used his exquisite swordsmanship to the fullest, each attack precisely aimed at the weaknesses in Karl's fencing.
However, the nearly unbreakable absolute defense of Arzu's Shield made it difficult for all his subtle skills to translate into significant advantages.
Whenever his steel sword was about to hit Karl, the lilac shield instantly deflected it.
What shocked Geralt even more was the expenditure of physical strength.
As a Witcher mutated and strengthened by the Trial of the Grasses, his endurance far exceeded that of ordinary people.
But at this moment, small beads of sweat appeared at the corners of his forehead, his breathing became slightly heavy, and his chest rose and fell gently.
On the other hand, his opponent Karl still appeared calm, breathing long and evenly, as if this intense fight was just a walk.
"This endurance... it's simply inhuman..." Geralt's assessment of Karl's physical condition was refreshed again.
It was even more terrifying than those freaks he usually talked about!
Feeling the majority of his physical exertion, Geralt abruptly jumped back, increasing the distance, and simultaneously raised his left hand, signaling a pause.
He needed to adjust his strategy, not only tactically.
He took a deep breath and calmed down, his cat-like eyes fixed on Karl.
In his characteristic deep voice, he said: "Karl, stop suppressing your strength. Use your full power to attack."
Karl was startled upon hearing this, a look of hesitation appearing on his face: "Lambert, that's..."
"I need to know your limits. This is not a battle of wills." Geralt interrupted him in a serious tone.
"In the face of a Striga, any mistake could lead to the death of both of us. I know you've been holding back."
"Let me see your true strength, so I know how to cooperate with you."
"Or... at least know how to stay out of your attack range."
Geralt's words were reasonable and completely from a practical standpoint.
Karl thought for a moment and nodded: "Alright, be careful."
Karl resumed his stance, this time no longer intentionally restraining his strength.
Although he still wasn't using his full power, his strength increased to about 50%.
This was far above the level he had when dealing with the tin cans in the previous competition.
After all, Geralt only had light leather armor and hadn't drunk any decoctions or potions, so he was afraid the other party couldn't handle it.
Geralt was focused, his Witcher senses heightened to their limits, ready for Karl's advance.
Karl stepped forward, his movements seemingly almost indistinguishable from before, still a powerful strike to the midsection.
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 narrowed slightly, and instead of dodging, he held his steel sword across his body, trying to deflect the force in the most standard blocking posture.
BOOM!! A loud sound, completely different from the previous clear clangs, exploded like a hammer striking an anvil.
The moment the two swords collided, Geralt felt only an indescribable force roll through the sword's body, like a sudden flood.
His right hand holding the sword instantly went completely numb, the skin of his palm cracked and bled, and his five fingers could no longer hold anything.
Clang... The steel sword in his hand groaned, flew from his grip, spun, and stuck into the ground a few meters away, the hilt trembling incessantly.
And Geralt himself was even more carried away by this immense force, lifting off the ground.
He barely adjusted his posture in the air, but still couldn't stabilize his figure after landing.
"Stomp, stomp"—he retreated four or five steps in a row.
Finally, relying on his excellent balance and a confused backhand to support himself on the ground, he barely stopped his retreat.
He knelt on one knee on the ground, his left hand supporting the ground, and his right hand hung weakly, slightly trembling.
His entire right arm was completely sore and numb, almost unconscious.
He looked at Karl, who was still standing in his striking stance.
His usually calm cat-like eyes were filled with an indescribable shock.
This strength... it's terrifying! This is not a power that humans can possess at all!
It could compare to monsters known for their strength, like rock trolls, chorts, and even far surpass them.
Geralt understood perfectly that even if he drank the Thunderbolt potion, which greatly increased his strength, and the Blizzard potion, which increased his reaction speed,
he could never reach the level of pure, almost crushing force that Karl had just displayed.
He was a Witcher tempered by the Grasses, his physical condition far superior to ordinary people...
But in front of Karl, in terms of strength, he felt no different from an untrained ordinary farmer.
And ordinary people compared to Karl... he couldn't even imagine that picture.
...
The scene was silent, only the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Karl sheathed his sword and quickly stepped forward, his tone apologetic: "Sorry, Lambert, are you alright?"
He hadn't expected 50% of his strength to have such an effect; he thought Geralt could easily handle it.
Geralt slowly stood up, moved his still aching right hand, and shook his head.
His voice was a little dry: "...It's alright. I asked you to use your full strength."
Geralt looked at Karl intently: "Now I fully understand why the king has such high hopes for you."
"Your strength... it's the only time in my life I've seen anything like it."
He walked to pick up his steel sword and checked the blade.
Fortunately, the material was excellent, and there was no breakage, but his right hand still couldn't be used flexibly.
"Lambert, your swordsmanship is amazing."
"If it weren't for Triss's spells, I would have been defeated long ago. You should definitely be called a master swordsman."
He watched silently, and the magical light in his hand hovered. Triss, ready to intervene at any moment, also approached.
Her face showed an expression of joy and relief: "The effect of Arzu's Shield is better than I expected!"
"Under that force just now, it lasted for five and a half minutes!"
"As for the time after being hit, it didn't trigger... it will take more time to verify."
She looked at the pale purple light of the shield on Karl's body, which had dissipated.
So the three of them stayed in the suburbs for a while.
Triss repeatedly cast and recorded the spell, not stopping until there were signs of mana depletion.