One sword continued to peel the flesh from the skin, while the other began to slice it. Simultaneously, he used the blades and hilts of both swords to keep the apples circulating in the air. Sometimes he changed his grip on the two swords, switching from a standard grip to a reverse grip, and vice versa. Sometimes the two swords crossed, weaving a silver net of light in the air.
The sword light poured down like flowing water, fluttering like snowflakes. The firelight played and reflected off the blades, casting rippling shadows across the faces of the spectators. The hobbits gasped, afraid to make too much noise, worried they might disturb this incredible performance. The dazzling sword light flashed continuously, so fast it made people dizzy, yet so beautiful they couldn't look away.
This was not combat fencing, but the control, precision, and coordination here were more complex than any combat technique. Gandalf had completely abandoned his initial doubts and scepticism. He stood there, his lips slightly parted beneath his white beard, surprise in his eyes.
The skill presented to him... was more an art than a combat technique. An art of pushing the body to its limits and turning the weapon into an extension of itself. What surprised Gandalf even more was that Karl's expression remained calm throughout. There was no boastful pride, no focused tension, not even the "desire to show off" one might expect. He did it as if it were a completely ordinary thing — effortlessly, casually, and with total ease.
There were only two possibilities: either he was so accustomed to this level of control that it was truly "normal" for him. Or he possessed such strong mental fortitude that he could maintain absolute calm despite such complex thought processes.
After a few seconds, Karl's movements began to slow. All nine apples had been peeled, and the flesh sliced into neat, thin pieces. These thin slices were still attached to the core, maintaining the apple's overall shape, but from a certain angle, one could see layers of tiny gaps.
Karl suddenly sheathed the two swords and traced two full circles in the air. The last two falling apples were lightly touched by the sword tip, altering their trajectory. Then, before anyone could react, Karl raised his steel sword. The nine apples fell one after another, precisely landing on the tip of the sword. They stood upright, neatly arranged in a straight line, balancing on the tip of the sword — whose width was less than that of a finger — and none of them fell.
The entire square fell silent; the hobbits stood with their mouths open and eyes wide. In fact, Karl was just playing around. To ensure everyone could clearly see his movements, he had even deliberately slowed down. Otherwise, given his reaction speed and operational abilities, if he were even slightly faster... Since none of those present could see the trajectory of the sword, there would have been no effect to the performance.
The silence lasted about five seconds, after which Gandalf was the first to clap his hands.
"Clap, clap, clap." The applause was quiet, but in the silence, it was especially clear; it was his sincere praise. The hobbits suddenly realised what was happening and burst into enthusiastic applause, cheers, and whistles. Children jumped up, adults clapped their hands, and the elderly shook their heads in admiration, bringing the atmosphere in the square to a climax.
"That was amazing!"
"I've never seen such swordsmanship before!"
"How were those apples stacked?"
Karl smiled and gently shook the apple pile on the tip of his sword. The nine apples separated and calmly fell onto a clean linen cloth spread on the table.
"Don't throw them away, take them and eat them. My sword is very clean," he said to the hobbits watching.
Before he had even finished speaking, Bilbo was the first to step forward. He carefully took the top apple from the pile. He moved as cautiously as if he were afraid of breaking some work of art, looking at the apple in his hand. The skin had been completely removed, revealing fresh, moist, and shiny flesh. The overall shape remained unchanged, except for a few very thin lines on the surface.
He hesitated for a moment, then took a bite.
"Crunch." Bilbo chewed a few times, and then his eyes suddenly widened. He looked at the bite mark on the apple in his hand, then raised his gaze to Karl, his eyes full of disbelief.
"What's wrong, Bilbo?" a hobbit sitting nearby asked curiously.
Bilbo didn't answer immediately, but brought the apple to his eyes and examined it carefully in the firelight. The flesh at the bite mark... something was wrong. An ordinary apple's bite mark is uneven, and the flesh fibres clump together after being bitten. But on the one in his hand, there were clear bite marks, and... the flesh was divided into layers. Each layer was as thin as paper; almost invisible unless you looked closely.
"This, this..." Bilbo muttered.
Gandalf glanced at Bilbo, noticed the apple's unusual appearance, and had a realisation. Taking advantage of his height and long legs, he walked to the table in two steps and took an apple. However, unlike the others, he didn't eat the apple immediately upon receiving it. Instead, he brought the apple to his eyes and examined it carefully. In the firelight, the apple's surface was smooth, and the flesh was juicy. But Gandalf noticed that the apple's surface was covered with extremely thin, almost invisible ring-like patterns.
He gently pressed the tip of his finger against the side of the apple... the flesh slightly gave way, showing signs of layering. Gandalf immediately pinched a small piece of fruit flesh by the edge with his fingertip — the edge was so thin it was almost invisible — and then carefully lifted it. He lifted an entire, paper-thin slice of fruit flesh, about half the size of his palm, so thin it was translucent. If he held the apple up to the firelight, he could see its fine texture and uniform thickness; the entire apple was like this.
Gandalf's eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. He slowly turned the apple, examining it from different angles. Then he carefully pried at another spot with his fingernail, and obtained another whole slice of fruit. What did this mean? It meant that the dazzling sword dance just performed had, with each strike, sliced off a layer of fruit flesh.
Moreover, it was not just random cutting; it was layered application, removing one layer at a time, from the outer edges inward. Nine apples, each treated in this way, while the apples were kept airborne, not falling, and peeled...
Gandalf slowly raised his head and looked at Karl, who was wiping his paired swords with a soft cloth. Everyone else had merely watched the performance, enjoying the spectacle, admiring the dazzling sword light and the surprising stacking of apples. Only he could understand and see what it meant for a witcher to peel these apples.
It meant that the other party's reaction speed was extremely high, high enough to make several cuts in the moment an apple falls. He had incredibly precise control over the force of each strike; the force of each blow was perfectly calibrated. Too much, and it would crush the core; too little, and he couldn't cut an even, thin slice, or the apple might fall off. Moreover, their perception and multitasking abilities far surpassed those of ordinary people, allowing them to simultaneously track multiple moving targets and process them individually.
It might seem like just cutting apples with a sword, but if you asked anyone else, you would be hard-pressed to find many people capable of such a feat.