Brian Carter did not get angry but instead smiled, already suppressing the trace of impatience that should not have arisen in his heart. Then he stood upright, drawing a marvelous semicircle with the sword in his hand, finally stopping three feet in front of his knees, pointing it diagonally forward.

　　His spirit, along with the adjustment of his breathing, entered a wondrous state—his heart as calm as still water, his mind as clear as a bright mirror.

　　Meanwhile, offstage, William York could no longer bear to watch and covered his eyes with his hand, unable to continue looking.

　　Until a melodious and clear, bell-like female voice sounded in his ear: “How’s it going? Does Andrew have a chance?”

　　“You saw it too, Miss. Ethan has already lost 8 points, he doesn’t even have a chance to fight back.”

　　William turned around and found that the president of their club, Louise Lyndon, was indeed standing right behind him. His tone was helpless: “He seems to have been scared stiff by Ichabod, unable to move at all. Damn it! Clearly, when he was sparring with me in the club before, he was doing just fine, we were evenly matched.”

　　The young lady Louise was watching the stage, but there was a hint of bewilderment in her beautiful eyes.

　　She felt that guy’s state was very strange, as if he had completely merged into the environment, becoming an inseparable part of the background, even of this whole world—just like the ‘unity of man and nature’ described in Eastern martial arts philosophy.

　　But she quickly noticed the scoreboard beside her, and Louise couldn’t help but shake her head, thinking she must be imagining things. The blow this time was too heavy, and she wanted a miracle so badly that she was seeing illusions.

　　“So, William, in the match fifteen minutes from now, do you have a chance of winning?”

　　“I still have a bit of a chance. My opponent’s strength should be about the same as mine, I’d say I have a seventy percent chance. But it’s useless, my lady.”

　　William spread his hands: “At most, I can only make it to the third round, and after that, there’s no way. But so far, our club only has four people who made it to the second round. Unless two of us can make it to the quarterfinals, we won’t have enough points. But only you, Miss Louise, are capable of that.”

　　“Just as I thought—”

　　Louise’s expression dimmed slightly, and just as she was lost in thought, she caught a sudden burst of fire on stage out of the corner of her eye, followed by a thunderous boom that shook the entire arena, causing everyone in the gymnasium to turn and look.

　　Under their gaze, Ichabod Wood’s body seemed to be hit by a truck, flying twenty meters off the stage and crashing heavily to the ground, making the surrounding audience scream in shock.

　　“What happened?”

　　“Was that Ichabod?”

　　“Did the armor just explode?”

　　“Does anyone know what’s going on?”

　　“I didn’t get it, but the armor’s magic array suddenly fully activated, then exploded, and Ichabod was sent flying.”

　　The referees on stage were also shocked and hurried to Ichabod’s side to check on him. Others rushed to the control room to review the footage.

　　“He’s unconscious, but fortunately his vital signs are stable. Slight cervical fracture, bruises all over.”

　　“The neck component of the armor is completely destroyed for unknown reasons, needs professional assessment.”

　　“Can we wake him up? Has the holy healer arrived?”

　　“It’s no use. Even if he wakes up, he can’t continue fighting. The holy healer can’t cure a moderate or worse concussion.”

　　“Is the footage ready? What exactly happened?”

　　“Still unclear. All we saw was the armor’s defensive array activate, then suddenly explode. We suspect it’s an issue with the armor.”

　　This chaos and busyness lasted a full five minutes. After five minutes, the referee in charge of ring P12 finally returned to the stage with a dazed expression and raised the red flag in his left hand.

　　“Due to Ichabod Wood’s unconsciousness, Andrew Thompson Weldon wins and advances to the second round!”

　　Next to him, Brian Carter raised his eyebrows in dissatisfaction, but in the end said nothing, walking off the stage in silence.

　　Below, William York and Louise Lyndon were both dumbfounded, exchanging glances.

　　“Is this even possible? What luck—”

　　William said speechlessly, “Well, Miss, your luck is pretty good too. Ethan has kept some hope alive for us. Now, as long as one more person from our school makes it to the top sixteen besides you, we’ll have enough points.”

　　Louise gave a powerless smile, then left the P12 ring deep in thought, heading in another direction.

　　William glanced sideways, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. He knew what this Miss Lyndon of the academy was worrying about. This unexpected victory did indeed keep some hope alive for Lyndon Academy.

　　But the situation was still not optimistic. Aside from the transfer students Eleanor and John Richardson, no one else in the Cold Weapons Club was confident enough to make it into the top thirty-two.