Chapter 68: I Am Legend

On the speeding chariot, sweat dripped from Philixius’s forehead, the blistering sunlight stung his eyes, and sweat ran into them too, but he dared not wipe it away.

Yan Luo’s attack just now had been truly terrifying, more frightening even than the Persian swordsmen he’d faced before! The way he wielded his blades was swift, ruthless, and precise. Just now, Philixius had barely managed to parry, relying solely on reflexes honed through countless battles.

The athletes whose tendons had been severed were all kicked off the chariot and fell to the ground. On this chariot, besides the driver, only two remained.

Yan Luo.

Philixius.

Even a large chariot was barely over two meters wide, meaning the two men stood almost face to face. Yan Luo gripped his twin blades, blood dripping down the edges, while Philixius held a Greek war sword in his right hand and a shield in his left.

The crowd roared, their voices echoing through the stadium. This one-on-one duel, weapons in hand, atop a racing chariot—it was a spectacle to stir the soul. Every spectator was electrified, howling at the top of their lungs.

Philixius felt the pressure mounting.

As the most respected warrior among the Mycenaeans, now forty-three, he had fought in hundreds of battles since the age of fifteen. In terms of experience, no athlete from other city-states at these Olympic Games could compare.

Yet he had never encountered an opponent like this! Yan Luo’s strength was not as overwhelming as when he fought twenty Spartan warriors—it was far less than that—but the combination of power, speed, and skill was almost impossible to withstand, even for an old soldier like him.

Yan Luo’s face was expressionless as he twirled his blades, weaving them into elegant patterns.

Now, whether with staff or twin blades, Yan Luo had gained a certain understanding and experience.

In the real world, Yan Luo had purchased these two weapons and researched martial arts online, intending to train in one style in the inner world.

That style was—

Wing Chun!

Unlike Tai Chi, Bagua, or Xingyi, Wing Chun had fewer formal routines. Training focused on the “small idea,” building combat instinct through mindful repetition. It was one of the most powerful practical martial arts, renowned internationally.

Yan Luo had a natural advantage in practicing Wing Chun; devoid of emotion, he could maintain absolute calm in combat.

Some styles, like Xinyi Ba, required “willpower” to drive explosive force and deliver exceptional strikes. Wing Chun, however, valued composure above all, excelling at close-range strikes, short bursts of power, versatile offense and defense, and even overcoming strength with skill.

In this sports world, Yan Luo had little time to practice Wing Chun, but the style included two weapon sets:

Eight-Cut Blades!

Six-and-a-Half Point Staff!

In the film “Ip Man 3,” the protagonist first duels with staffs, then engages in twin-blade combat, and finally tests fists. Yan Luo’s twin blades were perfectly suited for the Eight-Cut Blades technique, while the 2.4-meter Panlong Staff matched the Six-and-a-Half Point Staff.

Relying on physical prowess, absolute calm, and the rudimentary Eight-Cut Blades training, Yan Luo found little difficulty using his twin blades against these ancient Greek warriors from 2,500 years ago.

Yan Luo’s twin blades whirled, slashing forward in a flurry. Philixius, reacting instinctively from years on the battlefield, raised his shield, and the chariot echoed with the violent clang of blade against shield. The bronze-plated shield, forged through advanced metallurgy, was soon crisscrossed with deep gashes.

Philixius wanted to counterattack but couldn’t find an opening. Yan Luo’s assault was relentless, like water poured from a bucket—one rapid strike after another! Philixius could only move his shield desperately, knowing that a moment’s hesitation would leave him vulnerable to the twin blades.

After blocking more than ten blows, the shield split apart with a sharp crack.

You felt intense emotion:

Despair +1

In that instant, despairing, Philixius decided to risk everything. He lunged forward, his Greek sword darting like a venomous snake, aiming for Yan Luo’s heart—chariot race rules forbade attacks to the heart and throat, but at this point, he cared little for the rules.

The strike was sudden and cunning. On the battlefield, Philixius had often used this simple, deadly combination: shield in the left hand, sword in the right, thrusting to kill countless foes.

But this time, he faced Yan Luo.

Absolute calm.

The chariot jolted violently, but Yan Luo executed a dazzling spin, his body twisting sideways with nimble footwork. The linen sash at his waist fluttered as he evaded the snake-like thrust, and as he moved, his twin blades sliced through the air, flashing coldly.

The sound of blade biting flesh was clear. The naked Philixius’s left arm and chest were each slashed by the twin blades, leaving wounds more than ten centimeters long. Blood spurted out instantly.

The old warrior, over forty, collapsed to his knees on the chariot in agony.

You felt intense emotion:

Pain +2

Despair +2

Yan Luo glanced at him, saw the man’s fighting spirit extinguished, and refrained from further attack. Instead, he placed his twin blades at the driver’s throat. Terrified, the athlete steered the chariot closer to Wang Dongwei and Zhu Xiaoyong’s.

Yan Luo jumped back onto his own chariot. From this moment, no one dared challenge him.

Of course, even if others didn’t attack, the chariot race could only have one champion, and Yan Luo would seek them out. In the subsequent competition, with the Panlong Staff and twin blades, he destroyed seven more chariots. Of the twenty remaining, all the athletes lost their will to fight.

One by one, the chariots withdrew from the arena.

After all, horses and chariots were enormous fortunes, and life was irreplaceable—Cornelius of Arcadia was trampled by horses and crushed beneath a chariot, his tragic corpse a warning to the others.

Ten kilometers later, Yan Luo, Wang Dongwei, and Zhu Xiaoyong’s chariots claimed victory.

The stadium erupted in thunderous cheers, waves of shouts and screams. Yan Luo had won all six events he entered in these Olympic Games—a miracle!

The Greeks worshipped heroes, and Yan Luo, with his sculpted looks and physique, was the embodiment of health and beauty—the qualities Greeks most longed for, envied, and revered. Even as a foreigner, he had conquered every spectator.

“At last, it’s over!” Wang Dongwei and Zhu Xiaoyong, drenched in sweat—one driving, one shielding—had given everything in the chariot race, and now, finally, they had won an Olympic championship!

This inner world had reached a perfect conclusion.

Yan Luo listened quietly to the cheers, recovering his strength, when a prompt sounded in his consciousness:

“You have achieved a milestone: Participate in the Olympic Games and win more than five championships.”

“You have earned the title: I Am Legend.”

“Hmm? Not a legendary title, just a regular one?”

But thinking about it, compared to the ‘Debate with Sages’ milestone only achievable in the Spring and Autumn period or ancient Greece, ‘I Am Legend’—six Olympic championships—was much easier. As long as you were physically strong enough—though the hardest part was finding an inner world hosting the Olympic Games.

“What abilities does ‘I Am Legend’ offer? It ought to be much stronger than the Olympic Champion title…”