Tempest of the Stellar War

The Brightmoon 8.0 struck hard as it made high level arched movements, each blow landing precisely at the end of the movement of each Arched Slide Step. If the previous face off was not considered stressful, this high frequency attack would definitely elicit a response.

Attacking was always easier than defending.

In between the consecutive stabs, the Brightmoon 8.0 was kept busy. The Arched Side Steps followed one after another, and the blows had to be delivered in between each of the arched steps. Missing even one would mean trouble because it would be breaking up the flow of attacks.

Even though the Brightmoon 8.0 was a lightweight mech, the stabs could easily pierce through the opponent, especially a mech like the Wargod No. 1, which had such thin and brittle defenses.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Wargod No. 1 had actually successfully defended a flowing sequence of Arched Side Steps. However, the Brightmoon 8.0 did not stop. Upon completing the sixth step, it made a sudden turn. The engines roared. In an instant, it made another turn in the opposite direction.

Boom… boom… boom boom boom boom…

Who could have thought that there would be another series of Arched Side Step attacks in the counter-direction following a powerful turn?

But the Wargod No. 1 anticipated every single one of them, accurately blocking every blow with its knife.

After another round of Arched Side Steps, in the final blow, the Brightmoon 8.0 mech rapidly fell back.

This blow was not about killing the opponent, but borrowing strength to build distance and separate herself from the opponent.

Milo adjusted her breathing. She did not expect to face such a steady opponent here. The counter-arch’s final blow could have been even fiercer, but Milo changed her mind. She felt that she would still not be able to break the opponent’s defence.

The Wargod No. 1 was not good at defending itself. The pilot was key to the successful parries.

Masasi and Atos kept silent. They were not paying attention to Milo, but to the movements of the Wargod No. 1. Most people were engrossed in the exquisite arches the Brightmoon 8.0 made, but nobody noticed the Wargod No. 1 moving. This was the best part in the eyes of masters like Masasi and Atos.

The tiny steps taken was like an art. Every step was just right. The estimations were perfectly accurate. The problem with arcs was that its curvature could be easily determined, meaning Milo’s attacks could all be calculated.

What was difficult was moving while calculating. There was no use in being able to keep up with the battle mentally but not physically.

The Wargod No. 1 absolutely made the right choice. Passive defense on the same spot was an airtight and complete defense.

Masasi and Atos felt that they could applaud this player.

But…

Milo adjusted her breathing, her short hair lightly blowing. She had not encountered such an opponent for a long time now. It seemed like she had no choice but to make a move.

While it was being a little unfair, she could not stand losing to someone else.

The Brightmoon 8.0’s assassination sword pointed diagonally at the sky and swept down lightly. It was as though she was delivering some kind of salute.

The spectators in the Moon became visibly excited. This was the female assassin’s proudest form of victory call.

What it meant was telling the opponent this: You will not be able block this move, even if you see it coming.

This was also the ultimate trick that made Lady Stormsword famous across the Moon – the Song of the Storm.

A song to break the skies.

The Brightmoon 8.0 moved, turning into a ray of silver light. The engines were fully engaged, and the energy shield dissipated. This attack no longer needed one to possess any defense, plus it was important to conserve energy in case the mech’s core could not produce enough.

Boom boom boom boom…

The Brightmoon 8.0 appeared in front of the Wargod No. 1 in a ghostlike fashion. This was the only time the tracks were visible. The sword attacked and then disappeared.

Although the 12 consecutive arched skills were powerful, it had a certain rhythm and pace. The Song of the Storm had a rhythm as well, but it was a rhythm without a beat.

Frequency-changing arches. The arches were all joined together, sometimes going north, sometimes south, sometimes forward, and sometimes backwards. It was like teleporting, unable to see where it was exactly. The sword reflected the light in all directions, blinding and consuming the Wargod No. 1.

The audience could only hear the unending clashes and sparks.

The broadcasting rooms, countless net cafes, and countless CT clubs; whoever walked by stopped in their tracks.

Lady Stormsword’s unsolvable Song of the Storm – 64 Heavenly Strikes!

The advantages of the Brightmoon 8.0 mech were perfectly utilized. It attempted to grasp hold of the opponent’s weakness and kill it quickly while moving at a high speed.

Yet Masasi and Atos wore concerned looks on their faces. In the time elapsed, there were more than 64 strikes. 81 consecutive attacks???

They looked at each other, perplexed. It’s had only been some time, and Milo had made such a great leap in performance?

No, it might be that it was only attainable in an environment like CT.

An anaerobic forced operation of 81 consecutive attacks, even players with Ability X matched with a Brightmoon 8.0 would probably choke to death under the stress of the attacks.

But it was possible in CT.

It seemed that Milo had gotten serious.

People. Even the more rational and well-tempered ones can get provoked.

BOOM!

An earth-shaking explosion.

Sparks flew all over.

It was over!

Masasi and Atos smiled. Doing 81 consecutive attacks in CT was also a good gauge for doing the same in real life as they would remember how it felt. As they grew in capabilities, using it was only a matter of time.

Skeleton did a considerably good deed.

Then the sound system rang. “Skeleton, win!”

The audience from Earth had yet to react, but the normally calm Moon crowd had already stormed out. Some even jumped from their seats like flocks of ducks whose food was taken.

That was absolutely impossible. The consecutive kills had never, ever failed on the Moon. It was impossible for it to be defeated on Earth! It was rigged!

The ultimate move had the potential to take down a group of people all at once. In the battle that brought her to fame, Lady Stormsword had used it to kill five platinum class players in an instant, bringing her up to the diamond class.

Now that her skills improved, she lost the battle instead.

How was that possible?

Compared to the rash audience from the Moon, the usually rowdy Earth viewers were calm. Those who had watched Skeleton battle were long accustomed to it. There was no need to hurry. Even if the analysis took longer, the slow-mo replays would definitely be screened. The truth would be out in no time.

In less than a minute, the glaring reflection from before was presented in front of the audience once again.

It was important to note that the Brightmoon 8.0’s functions had been risen to a ghastly level, so it could perform an attack on all sides. Even the Wargod No. 1’s functions did not allow for a timely turnaround. The difference in levels was stark.

The thing is, nobody said that an opponent’s attack could only be blocked from the front.

Shortly past the 10-second mark, people were no longer paying attention to the Brightmoon 8.0’s boundless, thunderous Song of the Storm, but the Wargod No. 1’s boundless defense.

Mech and man were one. Any part of the body could always make the most appropriate defense at any angle. Of the attacks, there were no less than 7 that could not be defended against. But successful defense could be exchanged with minimal costs – some cuts and injuries at non-vital parts were necessary. The Wargod No. 1 had a thin cover, but it was not made of paper. There had to be some sacrifices.

After the 70th defense, there was a complete psychological change. Milo was mentally breaking down bit by bit. She felt that the opponent could not be defeated. The Wargod No. 1 had barely moved. It stood in front of her like a tall, unwavering mountain. It was clear that an upfront stab would take the opponent down, but not a single attack made it.

The 64th stab was her sharpest and best. It was the strike that had the best chance of killing the Wargod No. 1. But the Wargod No. 1 did not put up any defense. Instead, he slashed out with the alloy knife. The blow came crashing towards her, ready to take both of them down at the same time. In that instant, she decided to dodge instead. No fatal injuries were sustained as she escaped, but from then on, the strength and will behind her attacks drastically fell. Although 81 attacks would be way more suave, it could not be done.

It was too late for Milo to regret.

Decisions made in the spur of the moment always turned the tables on the battlefield.

The braver man wins.

This blow was magnified and replayed. Countless Moon people sighed in pity.

They were awed by the Wargod No. 1’s defense skills, but it was a sure-win opportunity for Lady Stormsword, her strongest attack. Yet Lady Stormsword turned “greedy.”

When the 81st attack was made almost out of pure instinct, the Prince and his company could tell that the air of confidence had evaporated.

The Wargod No. 1 had grabbed the assassinating sword with its left hand, its alloy knife piercing through in one stab.

This was the only time the Wargod No. 1 made an attack in the entire course of the battle.

What an easy, relaxed kill. The Brightmoon 8.0 had helplessly thrown herself at it.

For some reason, the spectator stand turned silent at this scene.

They could feel the hopelessness the Brightmoon 8.0 mech felt.

Lady Stormsword’s fighting spirit was completely torn. She lost all confidence in herself.

This level of defense was… terrifying.

Winning without fighting!

Hung on the alloy knife, the Brightmoon 8.0 was like a token of victory in an archaic hunt.

And the Wargod No. 1 was the hunter.

There was no other!

Having been through so many battles, the Skeleton Corps shared the same chemistry. They pointed at the rotunda in unity.

It was the hand sign of the Skeleton Corps. Only the space was the end.

Silent cheers were the loudest!

Solon punched his fist in the air. He won! This was not a show-down, but the first ever time the Earth he represented defeated a player from the Moon.

He had a bet with the CEO of the Moon district, and he had an all-time win.

Money was secondary. Their status in the CT Solar System Conference were to change from this point on.

Who said a single man could not change the world?

“It’s been hard on all of you. We’ll double all your wages for the month!”

Solon waved his arm. The team burst into cheers. They cheered “long live the Boss!”

Bubbly Foam looked calmly at Little Deer. “Comrade Old Deer, you don’t seem any surprised at the results!”

Old Deer was indeed steady. “I think… that Lady Stormsword is on her period.”

Forum. The vast population of players were swift in responding.

“Old Deer, your mom’s calling for you to go home for milk!”

Masasi and Atos watched the replay in silence. They couldn’t bear to remain in their seats for a second longer. This person’s style was unlike any on the Solar System, but more like….

But it was no time to discuss that. Atos looked at Masasi. Masasi grabbed the door handle, only to realise it could not be opened.

“Will you open the door, Milo?”

Masasi tried to use his calmest voice, but there was still no response.

They sighed and resigned to fate. Failing was not scary. What’s scary was the opponent using the textbook operations to take you down when you were serious about the game.