Starting from the Planetary Governor

The rare string of victories greatly boosted the morale of the Furyflames. It was with great difficulty that some shouts of encouragement came forth as they proceeded to fight their third consecutive battle.

But they capsized in a ditch.

This time, the one Phoenix sent into battle was still a 'rookie,' but this individual displayed strength greater than any of the previous newcomers. More crucially, he was a member of the Think Tank, wielding powerful Psychic Powers.

This Phoenix named Henrik Larson used the power of Spiritual Energy to kill the last Furyflame Champion who had fought two battles in a row.

And in other battles, the Furyflames were utterly defeated more often than not.

They sent out their core forces, with almost every company's champion entering the fray. These company champions, when fighting against the 'rookies' sent by Phoenix, had a winning rate of about forty percent.

But that was just it—forty percent!

Before this duel began, who the fuck could have imagined that the company champions of the Fury Flame Battle Group would only have a forty percent chance of defeating these Phoenix 'rookies' who had at most twenty years of service!

Who would believe that if you told them!

But this was the reality they were facing.

What to do when all the company champions had fought?

Then it was the company commanders' turn to fight.

The combat strength of the company commanders was generally on this level as well, usually only slightly better than that of the company champions.

But what when all of those were exhausted?

How many in the Fury Flame Battle Group could truly be called 'champions'?

It wasn't feasible to send everyone out into such brutal combat, especially when the success rate was so low.

So, they had no choice but to send the veteran sergeants from each company into battle.

But when they fought, forget about winning rates, they only won two battles.

It was clear to see that the two Phoenixes who had fallen had mainly done so because of critical blunders. Their actual displayed strength far surpassed that of their opponents.

Excluding the two lucky victories, all the rest of the veteran sergeants were defeated and killed in battle.

For the Fury Flame Battle Group, the loss of fifty-six lives should not have been a serious problem for a battle group that was actually much larger than the scripture-defined scale.

But if among these fifty-six fallen, there were the battle group's only 3 champions, 6 of the 10 company commanders known to the public, including one company commander considered the second-in-command of the battle group; over 20 company champions; 27 sergeants equivalent to the backbone of junior officers...

Then this loss was catastrophic.

The entire battle group's higher echelon combat power was swept away, a large number of command-level personnel were eliminated, and what was more severe, the task of promoting talents from the lower ranks became extremely difficult.

From this perspective, it was undoubtedly a heavy blow to the Fury Flame Battle Group, meaning their spine was broken in half, almost as bad as the most severe losses in the battle group's wartime history.

"Enough!" Kazimir Erso roared furiously.

"Battle Group Leader!" The Chief Priest beside him grabbed him, trying to dissuade him from the dangers of entering the battle himself.

But now, Erso could no longer heed any advice.

He was red-eyed, like a gambler who had lost everything, ready to push all his remaining chips onto the table, betting it all on one last desperate attempt to turn the tables.

And this last, biggest bet was himself. He was the Battle Group Leader of the Fury Flame Battle Group and also its most powerful warrior.

What he hoped to win with this bet was none other than the Battle Group Leader of the Phoenix.

"Come! The rest of the battles are meaningless, let's set aside all that preamble, Matins, let's battle in the name of both battle group leaders, to the death!"

He issued his challenge.

Matins accepted the challenge.

He could have declined. He could allow the elite warriors of Phoenix to continue fighting and wear down Erso. Even though Phoenix's warriors, no matter how strong, were far inferior to top experts like Erso, it would not be easy for Erso to win, at least he couldn't go unbeaten.

As long as it took him effort, he would accumulate injuries in battle, spending more energy, and after several more bouts, Erso's condition would deteriorate.

By then, Matins could easily decide whether to let his warriors slowly wear Erso down or force him to retreat; or choose to enter the fray himself when Erso's condition had worsened enough, to ensure a greater chance of defeating Kazimir Erso.

This would cast a slight imperfection over Phoenix's victory in this battle group duel, but it was the safest approach.

However, Matins did not choose this option.

Although it would be smart, it just wasn't the warrior's way.

He didn't want to waste so many warriors' lives in vain; at the same time, he had a strong sense of honor about defeating Erso in a fair duel.

Of course, Phoenix also valued honor!

Matins stepped onto the dueling ground.

This time, he did not exchange many words with Erso.

Verbal sparring was somewhat ineffective; it was time to show one's true capabilities through action.

Neither of them engaged in the long-distance probing that was very common in the dozens of previous duels, as neither of them were masters of long-range firepower control; such probing was unnecessary.

The two simultaneously arrived at the most open area in the center of the battlefield.

This area had almost been leveled by previous duels.

Upon encountering each other, they charged towards one another.

In the midst of the charge, their sword blades crossed, clashing hard against each other.

Neither gained the upper hand; neither could execute a killing blow on the first strike.

Immediately after, both sides' powered swords began to clash at an extremely fast, high-frequency pace.

Within this pure contest of swordsmanship and strength, Matins felt tremendous pressure.

Now, after engaging in personal combat, he had to admit that Erso, as an old warrior with four to five hundred years of combat experience, was possibly only a step away from becoming a legend. In terms of swordsmanship, although Matins had made significant progress recently, he was still no match for Erso.

Erso's techniques were more exquisite than he had imagined.

As for Matins... while his swordsmanship was certainly not poor, coming from Phoenix Legion's heritage, though not as exquisite and flamboyant as the mother legion, it became more straightforward and focused on pragmatism, but that did not mean it was weaker.

However, swordsmanship inherited from the mother legion, Punisher Legion, by Furyflame Battle Group, was not particularly renowned.

The inheritance of Genetic Seed characteristics is one aspect; personal training, experience, and accumulation are another matter entirely, explaining the individual level of disparity.

Lesser is just lesser, but at least not by a whole tier, still within the range that Matins could contend with.

...

While Matins was being suppressed by Erso's exquisite swordsmanship, Erso actually had his own unspeakable difficulties.

Matins' strikes were too powerful; every clash left Erso feeling a strong vibration.

This was not because Matins himself was stronger, but rather a disparity in equipment.

Both were fully equipped with Terminator Power Armor, both immensely strong and heavy. However, the key difference lay in the 'Indomitable Model' versus the 'Iron Knight Model,' with the latter possessing significantly greater strength, more powerful exertion, and stronger defense.

The advantage of the Indomitable Model mainly lay in its... affordability and low cost of production.

That was one of the reasons why it became widespread; not just because much of the Iron Knight's technology had been lost.

But in this duel, that advantage was meaningless.

Erso, at least a Battle Group Leader, couldn't get the Iron Knight and had to settle for the Indomitable Model, but at least he could obtain a finely crafted version.

Finely crafted usually refers to pieces personally forged by high-grade craftsmen or even masters of the Sect of Mechanics, enhancing performance in all aspects compared to the mass-produced version. How much it is enhanced depends on the skill level of the craftsmen.

In theory, this finely crafted version should narrow the gap with the Iron Knight Model Matins wore.

But in practice, it felt even further apart.

Could it be... the Iron Knight worn by Matins is also a finely crafted version?

An expensive Iron Knight, plus fine craftsmanship... the cost of this set of powered armor could well be double that of Erso's!

The disparity in equipment performance was blatantly evident at this moment.

Erso hated this deeply!

If I were rich, I would have slaughtered you already!

Several potentially fatal attacks that he could have executed were all nullified by the stronger force of his opponent's strikes!

The few attacks he managed to barely initiate were also blocked by the ridiculously thick armor of the finely crafted Iron Knight.

Erso could only calm himself down and look for more and better opportunities.