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The New York team, led by Riley, moved strategically across the field, maintaining a compact formation to protect each other. They knew that despite being a talented team, they needed to work together and be smart in their tactics to face opponents who possessed renown and experience.

The other five teams also moved nimbly, swords raised and gazes focused on the stadium screens.

Klaus felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins, ready to prove his skills amidst the grand and challenging setting.

Although the field was large and well-designed, it was the size of a soccer field, and for thirty people that wasn\'t much, so soon Klaus and the others found their first opponents, the team from North Dakota.

The confrontation was started by another tall, blond North Dakota boy named Mikael, who advanced against Riley, and the other fencers in his group sought to surround other opponents as quickly as possible.

Klaus was completely immersed in the grandiose scenery that surrounded him. His sword rested elegantly in his hand, while his black eyes were focused on his surroundings. His heart was beating in sync with the lively crowd that filled the stands. He was burning for this nostalgic feeling he was feeling, the heat of a competition in front of such an immense audience.

Suddenly, someone appeared in front of Klaus and said:

"So, are you coming or not?"

Klaus slowly lowered his chin and looked at the person who spoke to him. It was a boy of about his same height, with long hair tied up in a ponytail and piercings in his left eyebrow.

"And you are...?" asked Klaus, looking the boy up and down.

"Does it matter?" The man asked, spreading his arms wide with a debauched smile on his face. "You\'ll be on the ground in a few seconds, no matter who you are."

Klaus smiled briefly with his mouth closed, so the confrontation between them began with the elegance of a ballet.

Klaus\'s opponent was Rodolf Pullisic, a fencing prodigy with Croatian roots who had quickly attracted attention at South Dakota fencing tournaments.

Klaus and Rodolf advanced toward each other, their swords glinting in the sun like stars in a colliding galaxy. The battlefield seemed to shrink in their perspective, because their bodies moved in perfect sync and his footwork was unparalleled, capturing everyone\'s attention, including the cameras, which quickly focused on this battle.

When Rodolf realized he was the center of attention, he grinned and lunged with a series of attacks, but Klaus dodged nimbly, moving like a seasoned dancer.

Each step, each twist, was a fluid choreography that blended dexterity and elegance, as the spectators watched in amazement.

Their swords met in a series of lightning blows, their blades sparking with each clash.

Klaus kept on guard, his eyes focused on his opponent\'s movements, looking for the perfect gap to counterattack while learning, after all he had only a few weeks of training.

Rodolf was relentless, pushing Klaus back with his ferocity and formidable skill. However, the New York fencer was undeterred, his precise and calculated movements avoiding his opponent\'s attacks, surprising the world. With a graceful leap, Klaus launched himself into the air, his sword descending in an arcadian arc.I think you should take a look at

Rodolf blocked the blow with difficulty, the clash of the two wooden swords resounding across the battlefield like thunder in a storm, which surprised even the other competitors around them.

The two fencers stood apart for a moment, with gasping breaths and gazes fixed on each other. They were like two warriors in an epic duel, fearless and completely committed to victory. Looking at the two was chilling, and since this kind of competition was not like the classic fencing competitions of the Olympics, it quickly fascinated the world with the intensity of the fights.

The battle continued with a frenetic pace, every move calculated and every blow masterfully defended. Klaus and Rodolf were true fencing artists, turning the battlefield into a stage of spectacle and bravery. Blows followed blows, and each swordsman was skilled in his own way, only their razor-sharp reflexes were even more impressive than the swords they wielded.

The spectators watched in rapture, thrilled by the intensity of the battle unfolding before their eyes. It was a symphony of combat. None of them could be touched by the sword even once or surrendered, otherwise they were immediately eliminated.

Klaus launched into a surprise attack, his sword moving in a fluid, elegant arc. However, Rodolf responded with equal dexterity, blocking the blow with precision. The two fencers were entwined, their gazes locked on each other. Every muscle was tense, every breath measured, struggling to outpace the other.

And then, in a moment of sheer audacity, Klaus found the opening he sought. His sword lunged forward with relentless speed, striking Rodolf\'s unprotected shoulder.

The blow was swift and sure, and the North Dakota fencer did not understand what had happened for a few moments. Then the headset, mandatory for every competitor, warned in his ear.

"Rodolf, you are eliminated." The voice of one of the assistant referees warned him.

Immediately, Rodolf fell to his knees, defeated.

The battlefield echoed with the roar of the crowd, celebrating the victory and the thrilling outcome of that epic battle. Klaus was exhausted, but his excitement was running high. Adrenaline still pulsed through his veins, largely because of the heat of the crowd around him. His gaze met that of Mikael, who had just defeated Riley.

While the entire SoFi Stadium paid attention to the frantic battle between Klaus and Rodolf Pullisic, cheering each time their swords crossed, hardly anyone noticed what was happening to the rest of the New York team.

…

Edited by: DrHitsuji

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