Chapter 5

（Seeing the first brother to reward the book, "Smile, Smile," Shiwulang couldn't help but smile.）

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The morning breeze of April, already carrying a hint of summer's heat, heralded the dawn. The sky was still dark with thick clouds overhead, except for a faint line of fish-belly white in the east. The pale light of dawn faintly illuminated the rows of gleaming weapons on the training ground: ringed swords, long halberds, battle axes, spears, infantry shields, cavalry shields, hard bows, crossbows, arrows, and armor... all neatly arranged, exuding a stern and lethal aura.

On the flat and spacious training ground, two armored knights, each holding a long spear, faced each other from a distance.

"Jinglong, congratulations on your great achievement in slaying another general. It is said that you killed the enemy general in a direct confrontation. Come, let me see how you did it." The knight speaking was mounted on a white horse, holding a long spear, wearing an iron helmet and a red leather armor, with an iron-scaled skirt below the waist.

Changshan Zhao Zilong.

At this time, Zhao Yun was merely a cavalry commander (equivalent to a centurion), barely a mid-level officer, not yet qualified to wear the Mingguang armor, nor had he obtained a good halberd. The image of "white horse and silver spear" had yet to appear.

Twenty steps away from Zhao Yun, the knight was Ma Han. Early in the morning, he was pulled to the training ground by Zhao Yun, whether for training or to test his skills, he now had to face one of the top warriors of the Three Kingdoms era.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't nervous, but Ma Han was not afraid. With such a super arm, he even dared to challenge the legendary strongest man of the Three Kingdoms.

Ma Han's attire was similar to Zhao Yun's, and what interested him most was the twelve-foot-long spear in his right hand. This nearly two-and-a-half-meter-long cavalry spear was made entirely of resilient wood, with a foot-long spearhead (since it was a practice, a wooden spearhead was used), and the middle of the spear shaft was wrapped in cloth to prevent slipping or breaking. Two thick ropes were tied to both ends. Ma Han originally thought these ropes were for carrying the spear, but they didn't seem to be, as he was not two and a half meters tall on horseback, and if he carried it, it would drag on the ground. After Zhao Yun explained, he learned that these were not carrying straps but arm rings.

What are arm rings? When holding the spear, the rope is wrapped around the arm. When two riders pass each other, the cavalryman uses the spear to stab the enemy. The tremendous impact force generated by the speed of the horses is not something a single arm can withstand, so the spear must be released to eliminate the counterforce. After the two horses pass, the rider can pull the spear back by retracting the arm, making it reusable. This is similar to how Western knights' lances would break upon impact, but the difference is that lances are one-time use, while the spear can be reused after being pulled back.

"Remember, once you strike, you must release the spear immediately, or your arm will easily be injured." Zhao Yun repeatedly warned, his curiosity growing as this young brother clearly lacked cavalry combat experience. How did he kill the fierce general Mei Yuanjin of Ji Province yesterday?

"Understood!" Ma Han held the spear horizontally, with the rear part of the spear under his arm, gripping the middle and rear sections of the rope, as Zhao Yun instructed, adjusting his breathing and gathering strength, one hand controlling the reins, both feet pressing the horse's belly. Although he said he understood, he did not intend to do so, as it was unnecessary—he was using his right arm.

In terms of cavalry combat skills and experience, not to mention Zhao Yun, even a third-rate general would be better than Ma Han. Comparing himself to Zhao Yun in cavalry combat was pure masochism. Ma Han's only advantage was his invincible mechanical arm. How to leverage his strengths and minimize his weaknesses was the key to victory. Regardless of the outcome, this battle would provide him with valuable experience. He was not lacking in strength, only in experience.

"Hey!"

"Hey!"

The two simultaneously spurred their horses, facing the brisk morning wind, one from the south and one from the north, rapidly approaching each other.

The key to winning a cavalry duel is the sense of distance: when to strike, timing, target selection, and the transition between attack and defense. Each round requires immense concentration, and life and death can be decided in an instant. No one is guaranteed to win, and no one is guaranteed to lose, unless the skill levels are vastly different. The so-called dozens of rounds of cavalry combat, with horses circling and clashing, is just a myth...

Bang!

The two riders passed each other, and Ma Han struck first, but his spear tip had not yet reached the target when Zhao Yun's spear hit him. The impact made Ma Han's sturdy body shake violently, nearly throwing him off the horse. After riding twenty steps apart, they turned their horses around.

From a distance, Zhao Yun called out anxiously, "Jinglong, how is your arm?"

Ma Han raised his spear to signal, "I'm fine, thank you for your mercy, Zilong."

Before the duel, Ma Han had requested that Zhao Yun attack his right arm rather than other parts. He did this not to cheat but to gain more valuable experience by facing Zhao Yun multiple times. Such an opportunity to be personally guided by a top Three Kingdoms warrior was rare, and if he got injured in one strike, how could he continue?

Zhao Yun assumed Ma Han had padded his right arm with something hard to withstand the impact, so he only attacked his right arm as requested. However, after the strike, he felt only a normal arm, with no hard objects. Shocked, he thought Ma Han's arm would be broken or crippled, but to his surprise, nothing happened...

Zhao Yun was amazed and couldn't help but ask, "Jinglong, what did you pad your arm with?"

Ma Han laughed, "It's a good thing, Brother Zilong, just charge at me, you won't hurt me."

Zhao Yun's spirit rose, and he raised his spear with a hearty laugh, "If so, be careful, I'm coming!"

Clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter!

The two horses started at a slow trot, gradually accelerating, their spears pointing at each other again.

Ma Han learned from his mistake in the previous round, where he struck too early. This time, he would control the rhythm and strike decisively when the spear tip was ten steps away from the opponent's horse's head. This timing method was taught by Zhao Yun, but it was easier said than done. The ten steps between the two horses would pass in an instant, and a slow reaction would leave no time for action. Mastering this timing required dozens or even hundreds of training sessions.

Good! I estimate I'm ten steps away, now!

Ma Han roared and thrust his spear forward, but as soon as he made the move, his body suddenly tilted to the right, and his roar and strike were cut short.

Smack! Bang!

The first sound was Ma Han's right arm being hit, breaking the spearhead; the second sound was Ma Han falling off the horse, landing on his back.

So painful! His bones felt like they were scattered, and the world seemed to spin, with a face rotating along with it...

Zhao Yun rode around the fallen Ma Han, finally relieved, and couldn't help but shake his head in amazement, "I really doubt if you are made of iron, to be unharmed like this."

Ma Han groaned, "Who says I'm unharmed? My butt... I don't know if it's split into two pieces. Now I finally understand how Mei Yuanjin felt when he was thrown off his horse..." Ma Han inwardly sighed at his bad luck. The reason for his failure was a simple oversight—stirrups.

When Ma Han was about to attack, his body naturally leaned to the right, shifting his center of gravity to his right side. When he instinctively pushed off with his foot, he realized he was not on a stable stirrup but a wobbly rope, resulting in a loss of balance...

Zhao Yun shook his head, muttering, "I heard that Mei Yuanjin was also a fierce general, yet he was so weak?"

What kind of talk is this? A slap in the face!

Ma Han's face turned red. Brother Zilong, you are indeed great, but you don't have to be so provocative. He struggled to his feet, limping over to pick up his spear and threw it to Zhao Yun, "Brother Zilong, switch to this spear, let's go again!"

Zhao Yun caught the spear in surprise, "You're giving me your spear, then what about you..."

Ma Han twisted his thick neck, making a cracking sound, and waved to Zhao Yun, "Didn't you want to know how Mei Yuanjin was defeated? Charge at me, and I'll show you."

The first rays of dawn illuminated Zhao Yun's resolute face, and a smile gradually spread, "Finally showing your true skills, huh?"

As Zhao Yun spurred his horse to gain distance and then turned back, he found Ma Han driving his horse away, standing in the middle of the path with his hands on his hips.

Zhao Yun was astonished, "Jinglong, are you going to fight on foot against a mounted opponent?"

"Exactly."

"Do you plan to disarm me without a weapon?"

"Indeed."

If not for the calm expression on Ma Han's face, Zhao Yun would have thought this brother had lost his temper and his mind.

Despite finding it hard to believe, Zhao Yun, with his rich combat experience, did not take it lightly. He saw a strong confidence in Ma Han's eyes—yes, even facing one of the top ten warriors of the Three Kingdoms, Ma Han remained confident. This confidence came from standing on solid ground, from years of hard training, and from his secret weapon.

The sky gradually turned red, and the sounds of the bustling military camp filled the air. The quiet of the night was replaced by the busy day. Only the training ground remained silent, a silence that hinted at the brewing storm.

The hooves of the horse clattered on the hard ground, and Zhao Yun's spear pointed diagonally downward, forming a thirty-degree angle with the ground. His target was still Ma Han's right arm. He had figured out that the right arm of this brother was padded with a strong soft armor, allowing him to withstand two strikes without injury.

Riding a fast horse, charging at high speed, and striking a target about the size of a bowl from twenty steps away was no easy task. Many experienced cavalrymen might not be able to do it, but Zhao Yun had full confidence. He would strike the right arm, and he would definitely hit it, because he was Zhao Yun.

The rising sun painted the earth in vibrant colors, and the galloping horse's red mane fluttered in the morning breeze. The man was taut like a bow, the spear like an arrow, the horse providing the speed, and the man, horse, and spear becoming one. This was a strike as swift as lightning and as heavy as a falling stone.

Ma Han's left foot planted firmly on the ground, his sturdy body lunged forward, and his right hand shot out to grab the rapidly approaching spear. Whether he grabbed the spearhead, the blade, or the shaft, he had to catch it before it hit him.

Having caught, split, and shattered arrows, knives, axes, and ropes shot at him countless times during eight weeks of adaptive training, Ma Han had full confidence. He would grab the spear, and he would definitely grab it, because he was Ma Han.

Snap! Crack!

A strike as swift as thunder, piercing the iron hand. The powerful impact force pushed Ma Han back three yards, leaving two deep skid marks on the solid ground of the training field.

A red sun rose, and a sturdy armored figure was lifted from the saddle, flipping in the air, creating a beautiful silhouette against the red sun.

Crack! The spear shaft, unable to withstand the force, broke in the middle. Zhao Yun rolled rapidly in the air, landing on both feet, then rolled forward to dissipate the momentum. He kneeled, quickly drew his sword, and with a swift turn, sliced backward—just then, the tip of a three-foot ringed sword was already pointing at his throat.

Zhao Yun raised his eyebrows and moved his wrist. Ma Han looked down and saw Zhao Yun's sword tip also pointing at his side.

The two smiled at each other, sheathed their swords, and extended their arms, laughing heartily.

Amidst the hearty laughter, a rider galloped over, waving his arm and shouting, "Cavalry Commander Zhao, Squad Leader Ma, the general has summoned you."

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