Chapter 457

Vincent's words thundered throughout the fencing hall, pulling every gaze straight to the sword in Lindsay's grip.

Only moments earlier, all attention had been fixed entirely on Hannah's sword while Lindsay's went unnoticed.

Lindsay's chest hammered uncontrollably beneath Vincent's unyielding stare. By reflex, she hid the sword behind her back, straining to stay composed."Mr.Jones, what are you implying? This is obviously a normal club-distributed sword."

."Is that so?" Vincent stretched out his palm. "Do you dare let me examine the sword in your grasp?"

Lindsay locked eyes with him, dread flooding her chest. Still, she compelled herself to act bold, her tone sharp."Why... Why wouldn't I dare?" Lindsay clutched at a sliver of hope. Although her father had someone craft the sword for her, its design was strikingly plain, with no visible distinction.She doubted Vincent could detect anything out of it.

With her jaw tightened, Lindsay extended her sword.

Vincent took it, his eyes moving steadily across the steel. His fingertips brushed against an almost invisible spot on the hilt's end. At once, the icy curve of his lips broadened.

Vincent suddenly rotated the hilt, revealing a slot etched with two refined characters-"L.C.", Lindsay's initials. With a mocking chuckle, he tilted the hilt for all to see, his stare cutting deeper. "Miss Cortez, may I ask which club provides a standard sword carved with the initials of your own name?"

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The spectators burst into shocked cries. The elaborate markings were now unmistakable.

Hannah, off to the side, silently acknowledged Vincent's sharp perception. Lindsay, overcome with unease, swiftly snatched the sword back, sending a pleading glance toward Elvin.

This sword had been slipped to Lindsay by Elvin before the duel. He'd assured her its likeness to a standard blade was perfect, and no trick could be uncovered. Yet here, Vincent had laid it bare before everyone.

Claude studied Lindsay's flustered demeanor coldly,sensing that something was off. She looked unusually shaken.

Elvin's complexion turned pale, perspiration streaking his forehead. He had not expected Vincent to possess such a sharp eye to identify such a hidden feature.

Internally condemning Lindsay's lack of composure,Elvin advanced swiftly, his tone loud as he tried to control the situation. "Ah, Mr. Jones, such sharp sight you possess. I must confess, this was indeed my mistake. I gave this custom-made sword to my daughter earlier. She enjoys using it, so l let her bring it into the bout. I never expected it wwould cause such a misunderstanding."

His voice carried mock regret. "Since both participants fought with custom blades, the initial result is naturally beyond dispute.We yield."

Shifting his approach, he plastered on a smile."Nevertheless, my daughter just battled against Mr.MacLeod's date, and she's clearly drained. Ms. Scott fought only once, so her endurance is much greater.Thus, I suggest a best-of-three contest for fairness.What say you all?"

Lindsay immediately added her agreement. "Exactly!Ms. Scott only fought me once, so she remains full of strength. Two out of three is the most just. She already holds one win, so why hesitate? It's only a few more rounds."

Nikolas, stationed nearby, let out a disdainful laugh.

Hannah reacted to Lindsay's obstinate remarks with a frosty stare. "Shameless."

Claude knit his brow, a strong revulsion rising in him. "Miss Cortez, you have been defeated. Honor your wager and stop pressing the matter."

But Lindsay seemed to have lost all her composure,jabbing a finger toward Hannah and shouting in a piercing voice, "I haven't lost! The rules aren't fixed.Only two out of three is fair. If she declines, it means she's terrified and dreads the prospect of a defeat."

Hannah observed Lindsay's frenzied behavior with mounting annoyance. She answered icily, "You and Aylin settled with a single round. Why should it be two out of three with me? If you fall again, will it extend to three out of five?"

Lindsay screamed, "I don't care! If you refuse another fight, the wager won't count."

At that instant, the club manager strode forward with two uniformed assistants, their demeanor grave,halting behind Vincent with respect.

The manager inclined his head. "MAr. Jones, the personnel you requested have arrived." Vincent calmly lifted his hand in a slight gesture.

The two staff members advanced to retrieve the swords from both Hannah and Lindsay.

"What is this? Mr. Jones, won't you permit us to wield our personal blades?" Lindsay objected at once.

Vincent remained composed yet radiated command."Why the fluster? Didn't you call for fairness? These men are here to verify whether the custom blades satisfy the International Fencing Federation's competition standards."