Blood Nemesis
Chapter 147: Teach

Chapter 147: Teach

Oliver was not a close-combat specialist.

His fighting style involved trading blows with his enemies while protecting vital body parts. He was always willing to endure injuries most would consider serious if he could return the damage.

After all, his ability allowed him to heal from almost any injury. Thus, his fighting style evolved around staying conscious for as long as possible.

If conscious, he could manipulate his blood to control his body, shield himself from additional damage, and protect vulnerable areas like the neck, spine, and head.

For Oliver, maintaining consciousness throughout a battle was the most crucial factor.

However, the same could not be said for everyone else.

Most humans would die from the injuries he sustained. So, his combat style was not something to be emulated.

Still, he was skilled enough to teach Root. His battle experience alone allowed him to adapt his style as needed. Despite not being a close-combat specialist, he could push Root to his limits and show him what a true fight was like.

When Root picked himself up from the ground, Oliver smiled and raised his sword. Currently, Oliver was also learning while teaching Root. He was learning to suppress his instinct to trade damage.

"Swords are easy to use but difficult to master," Oliver said, looking directly at Root. "Neither of us truly knows how to use one to its full potential. So, let’s see how far we can go." He was not going to take it easy.

Root rubbed his chin. The intense pain he felt slowly disappeared, leaving a bruise in its place.

"Boss, enough chitchat. Come at me again. I’ll repay you for the beating I received this morning."

This wasn’t their first battle. Earlier that day, Root and Oliver had trained in unarmed close combat. The result was Root getting thoroughly beaten, so he wanted to return the favor. This time, Oliver said he wouldn’t use mana, which made Root think he had a chance.

Oliver smiled. ’The young Root is feisty,’ he thought, leaping forward. His movements were quick but full of openings, intentionally made so Root could take advantage.

Root smirked, watching him. He gripped his sword tightly and stepped forward.

Last time, he’d fallen for Oliver’s trick because he never expected the thrust to change midway into an upward swing. This time, he was prepared. ’It won’t work twice.’

When Oliver neared him, he suddenly thrust his sword forward. As before, it blazed towards Root’s abdomen, mimicking the initial attack.

Root expected it; his lips curled up as he positioned his sword to deflect the attack instead of retreating. He had failed previously due to being off-balance when he dodged, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Oliver noticed this and smiled. ’Let me show you the full potential of the sword.’

Oliver swung his wooden sword up, just as he had done previously. Root focused and blocked the attack.

But, taking him by surprise, Oliver released his grip on the sword and stepped forward. The sword Root blocked flew to the side just before a fist enlarged in his vision. Before he could understand what happened, the fist smacked him directly on the chin.

"Thud."

He fell to the ground again, his face reflecting nothing but confusion.

’Why?’

’How?’

He didn’t understand what had happened. The punch was less painful, yet he fell as if he had lost control of his body. For a few seconds, he lay on the ground, thinking about what had just occurred. Then he slowly raised his head and looked at Oliver, who was picking up his sword.

"Boss? Wasn’t this supposed to be a sword fight? You said it was combat training with weapons, right?"

Oliver nodded without a change in his expression. "That’s right. Is there a problem?"

"But you punched me."

"Yes, I did."

"But the weapon!"

"I used it. Didn’t you see the sword?"

"I saw it."

"Then, what’s the problem?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"..."

Root didn’t know what to say. Just a second ago, Oliver was talking about unleashing the full potential of his sword and fighting to the end. And yet, he threw it away and punched him.

What was wrong with this crazy person?

With Oliver, there was always some trick hidden beneath his actions.

Root took a deep breath and sighed. "You didn’t say you would throw away your weapon," he said, and stood up.

Oliver raised the blunt wooden sword, placed it on his shoulder, and asked, "Why should I say that? Do you expect your enemies to send an email warning you about the tricks they’re going to employ in battle two days prior? That would be stupid, right?"

Root couldn’t disagree with that logic.

"And for your information, the sword isn’t dangerous. I am. The sword isn’t striking to kill you. I am. So, focus on what I’m doing with the sword instead of the sword itself," Oliver said, pointing it at Root. "Are you ready for round three?" he asked.

Root rubbed his chin again and nodded. "Of course, I was ready..."

Before he could finish, Oliver interjected, "I know. You were ready the moment you left your father’s balls. Let’s cut the bullshit and start."

Oliver flicked the sword.

Root gave a wry laugh and took a defensive pose.

Their sword fight continued. Oliver used the opportunity to drill into Root’s mind the simple fact that his enemies wouldn’t follow rules. There were no rules or laws in a life-or-death fight, so he needed to be ready to do anything to win.

For that, Oliver used dirty tricks like throwing mud into Root’s eyes, stepping on his toes mid-combat, spitting on his face, and more.

As a notorious villain, Oliver was practically an encyclopedia of dirty tricks. He used a number of them in their training match and finally conditioned Root to be cautious of everything.

By the time they were done, Root was drained, both mentally and physically. He lay on the ground, sweating profusely and breathing heavily.

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