Chapter 23: Cowardice Has No Good Endings, Why Don't You Understand
On the empty street, Joshua and the Golden Warrior stood facing each other.
Mozer Wilson, the strongest of the younger generation in the Wilson Family, a Golden Warrior with gray hair and gray eyes, clad in full heavy plate armor, yet his movements showed no sign of sluggishness. Armor that would render ordinary warriors immobile was, to a warrior of this rank, no different from leather armor.
But looking at his eyes, there was no trace of ease. At this moment, the tall Golden Warrior's heart was filled only with surging shock and uncertainty.
He paid no attention to the provocative words from his opponent. Using taunts to disrupt an enemy's rhythm and thoughts was a basic skill for any warrior. Having spent so many years on the battlefield, he had heard words far more unpleasant countless times. Mozer was not about to let such things stir his emotions.
What surprised him was his enemy's strength, which defied the rumors.
Joshua Radcliffe. According to the rumors from the Black Crow Corps a month ago, he should only have been at Mid-Silver rank. Even if he had broken through during the war and advanced to Gold, he shouldn't have this level of mastery. Gold was a sublimation on the physical level; no matter how talented, one needed several months as a buffer to slowly grasp this power!
But the facts were what they were, and Mozer had no choice but to believe them. Now, Joshua stood before him as a formidable Gold-rank enemy.
"I am Mozer Wilson."
Slowly drawing his cross broadsword from his waist, the Golden Warrior regained his composure. He pointed the sword tip at his enemy, his eyes clear.
"Joshua Radcliffe."
Joshua also gave his name bluntly. This was a tradition of this world—announcing one's name to prove that this battle was fair and open, and that victory or defeat would be a mark of honor.
The next moment, a gale howled, and the two swords clashed. The grating noise of steel colliding with steel was harsh and chaotic. Sparks flew like a fountain, scattering all around, but neither combatant paid attention to such trivial matters. In less than a second, they had exchanged several rounds. The surging air currents had no time to unleash their impact before this probing exchange ended.
"Not bad!"
Stepping back to his original position, Mozer held his broadsword horizontally across his chest, adjusted his breathing rhythm, and then let out a sharp shout. His entire figure vanished once more. In the blink of an eye, a heavy ground-splitting strike, imbued with immense force, came crashing down directly at Joshua's head. The originally black cross broadsword, under the Golden Warrior's fierce swing, became like an inky streak of light, nearly impossible to track.
Even the faint residual power blurred the atmosphere. This strike seemed to have no technical variation, but it achieved the ultimate fusion of strength and speed. An attack launched between breaths needed no intricate changes.
"Foolish."
With a sharp cry, Joshua's expression was as cold as steel. Faced with such a heavy blow—one that could easily shatter city walls and cleave through steel—he did not choose to defend. Instead, he raised his left hand, preparing to use his flesh and blood to forcibly catch the enemy's blade, using bone and muscle to lock down this wave of assault. At the same time, the life-sized greatsword in his right hand swept upward from below, without hesitation, aiming a full-powered strike at Mozer!
*Pfft—*
Flesh, even that of a Gold-rank expert, could not truly compare to a weapon forged from steel, especially one reinforced with Battle Qi and swung with full force by another Gold-rank warrior. The moment they made contact, Joshua's left palm was directly split open. But even so, the strike originally aimed at his head had been deflected outward. And because he was midair with no leverage, Mozer was helpless against Joshua's full-powered upward sweep!
The Divine Mechanism transformed from Firefly was a massive weapon larger than a person, heavy and unwieldy. Against Mozer's cross broadsword, it naturally lacked agility and struggled to seize the initiative.
But that also meant that if it hit, the damage it dealt was far greater than that of ordinary weapons.
Mozer never expected Joshua to be so unafraid of injury, willing to trade life for life in their second exchange. And because he was reluctant to simply let go of his weapon, he did not immediately use Battle Qi as a counter-thrust to dodge. In short, by the time this Golden Warrior instinctively retracted his weapon to avoid the strike that would have cut him in half, he belatedly realized that his left arm had been severed at the elbow.
"...Your courage would astonish even the gods."
Controlling the muscles of his arm to contract and stop the bleeding, Mozer gritted his teeth and said through cold sweat, "I have never encountered an opponent like you."
"That's only because all your previous opponents were utterly pathetic."
Expressionlessly, Joshua brought his split left hand back together. As Battle Qi burned, flesh and bone rapidly merged, healing back into one. He sneered, "You've barely experienced any Gold-rank battles. How would you know the techniques involved?"
As if you've experienced a lot of them!
Mozer felt utterly baffled. Clearly, this guy before him had only advanced to Gold less than a month ago (questionable), so how did he seem more experienced than himself?
In truth, Joshua's experience was indeed richer than his—not just a little, but by a vast margin.
Through assimilation with energy, the regenerative ability of a Gold-rank warrior had reached a new height. As long as their life force was strong enough and their nutrient supply sufficient, they could regrow lost limbs within a few days. For injuries like cuts or lacerations without missing flesh, they could roughly close up in a few seconds and quickly restore some combat capability.
Using such quickly recoverable injuries as a cost to inflict damage on an enemy that could not be healed swiftly—for a former Legendary Warrior, this was practically instinct.
Clenching his left hand, which had mostly healed, into a fist, then opening it, and clenching it again...
Joshua felt excellent—better than ever before. This life-and-death struggle, tasting his own blood and that of others, was an indescribably good feeling.
By now, the street where the two faced off had fallen silent. The civilians who had originally lived here had already fled to a distance to take shelter. The impact craters left by their earlier exchange were now emitting faint traces of powdered lime.
To be honest, Mozer's strength was actually above Joshua's initial estimate. But this was indeed reasonable. After all, in the first two versions of *Continent of Strife*, Gold-rank was a legend. Unlike the Gold-rank after the Great Magic Tide, Gold-rank at this time was still very precious. Most templates were around Elite or Excellent, some even at Leader template—a far cry from the flood of ordinary templates after the Great Magic Tide.
But even so, this was an insurmountable gap. From the physical body to the power one controlled, Gold-rank was a qualitative change. In the game, this qualitative change was replaced by the [Glory Quest], a long quest chain that countless players had complained about for years. In this real world, adaptation was necessary. Just as a child cannot wield a greatsword, and an infant cannot swing a giant axe, an ordinary person could not quickly adapt to such a change.
But how could Joshua be like those people?
Just about a month ago, he was still a peak Legendary who could casually unleash Transcendent talents, shatter mountains with a single punch, and raise tsunamis. Now, he had merely returned to Gold-rank. Adapting to combat methods required no time at all—at most, a few seconds.
Just the few seconds it took to speak were enough.