Chapter 132 Chapter 132 – No Thinking
Nick looked at the four weapons with surprise and took off his own weapons.
"Where should I put these?" Nick asked, gesturing to his silver weapons.
"Just throw them in the corner somewhere," Reynold said dismissively.
This surprised Nick a bit. "No respect for the craftsmanship?"
Reynold shook his head in confusion. "Wait, what?"
"You know, treating weapons with respect," Nick said. "Manela told me that we are supposed to treat our weapons with respect."
"Why?" Reynold asked in genuine confusion. "They're objects. They're not alive. They don't care."
Nick scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, but Manela said that a lot of work goes into creating these sorts of weapons and that we should always treat them with respect."
Reynold snorted. "Manela's too serious and stuck up," he said with a dismissive wave. "We paid the craftsman, right? Therefore, they belong to us, and that means that we can do with them whatever we want."
"If we want, we can throw them into the sewers and leave. The craftsmen shouldn't care about what happens to their weapons. They got their money, and that's what they wanted in the first place."
Nick couldn't really argue with Reynold.
Logically speaking, Reynold was right.
However, Nick also thought that Manela was right.
In the end, Nick just put his weapons on the roof of a building he wouldn't destroy.
After that, he grabbed the weapons Reynold had taken out.
'Heavy!' Nick thought as soon as he lifted one of the greaves.
Nick estimated that the greaves and gauntlets put together were nearly as heavy as all of his spears.
Reynold laughed loudly as he saw how difficult it was for Nick to put on the greaves and gauntlets.
It was almost like this was the most hilarious thing in the world.
When Nick was finally done, he stood in the middle of the arena like his feet had been glued there.
Reynold clapped in his hands with laughter. "What are you waiting for?! Go!" he shouted in amusement.
Nick furrowed his brows and awkwardly waddled to one of the houses.
It was two stories high and almost ten meters long.
It was a very average house, but to the current Nick, it seemed gigantic.
He took a deep breath as he looked at the huge task in front of him.
He had no idea where to start.
"What are you daydreaming for? Go!" Reynold shouted.
"I'm planning," Nick shouted back.
"Nonsense!" Reynold shouted. "That's what others do, not us!"
Nick furrowed his brows and turned to Reynold.
"We are not like them," Reynold said with an arrogant smirk. "Planning, strategizing, feinting, retreating, whatever. We don't do that."
"We use our fists and legs!"
"Do you know what that means?"
Nick looked at Reynold with uncertainty before shaking his head.
"It means we have more weapons than all of them," Reynold shouted.
"Everyone else has one or two weapons. Big sword for both hands, two swords for both hands, big club, small clubs, big rifle, two pistols, throwing spears, rapiers, whips, whatever!"
"They all only have two weapons at most!"
"We have four!"
"As long as our enemy is within reach, they are helpless!"
"We kick and kick and punch and kick and punch and kick and kick and punch and punch and kick until there is nothing left of our enemy!"
"We attack faster and faster until they can't defend themselves anymore!"
"We don't think!"
"We punch!"
"We kick!"
"We unleash all our aggression and stomp their lights out!"
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