Chapter Thirty-Six: The Clash of Shield and Sword

“How about this move?” Steve gripped the round shield with both hands, adding his own weight as he tried to force Kyle down beneath him.

“Not bad at all,” Kyle replied through gritted teeth, his left shoulder braced firmly against the shield, while his right hand and one knee pressed deep into the muddy ground.

Steve sought to overpower him with the shield, pushing Kyle to the earth, while Kyle strained to drive the shield away and rise in defiance.

At this moment, their duel had devolved into a pure contest of strength—a tug-of-war with neither willing to yield.

“Kyle, just admit defeat!” Steve said gravely. He channeled all his strength into his arms, pressing the shield down as its edge crept ever lower.

Holding the high ground, Steve was confident that, in terms of raw power, he was not outmatched by Kyle.

“It’s not that easy,” Kyle retorted, teeth clenched in determination. His posture, pressing up beneath the shield, showed no sign of wavering. The shield’s descent was, in fact, due only to the ground beneath him caving in.

Though clad in a tight black combat suit, it was clear his muscles were swelling, taut with exertion. At some point, his right hand, which had been pressed to the ground, had clenched into a tight fist.

Golden sunlight fell on Kyle’s body, forged like iron. In that moment, he resembled a bronze statue, the very embodiment of strength.

Cries of astonishment erupted from the gathering of American soldiers, while Steve stared in disbelief as the shield, which had pinned Kyle, was now being forced upward, inch by inch, with surprising speed.

“If you want me to surrender, you’ll have to do much more than that,” Kyle declared, pushing Steve’s shield aside and staggering back several paces, chest heaving with exhaustion.

“But now you’re almost out of strength,” Steve replied, a complex expression in his eyes. Kyle had pushed the shield away with everything he had, regardless of the cost.

It had won him a sliver of hope, but had also driven him to the brink.

“Your attacks are meaningless against this shield,” Steve continued.

“Steve, perhaps you’ve forgotten,” Kyle said with a sudden smile. “I haven’t even used my weapon yet. Did you think victory was already yours?”

With that, Kyle reached back, his left hand gripping the hilt, and drew forth the Carbon Sodium Steel Sword.

Unlike the shield, adorned with bold, colorful insignia, the sword was a simple single-handed blade. Its mirror-like surface exuded a lethal sharpness.

“Hand-to-hand combat is all well and good,” Kyle said coldly, tightening his grip on the sword, “but on the battlefield, fighting barehanded is far too troublesome.”

He still possessed the green ability card for swordsmanship.

But more than technique, it was the sword’s razor edge that would elevate his attacks to a new level.

Whether it was a Carbon Sodium Steel Claw or a Carbon Sodium Steel Dagger, the effect would be the same.

With a weapon this sharp, Kyle could kill with a single blow.

At the outermost edge of the crowd, Joseph watched the two men squaring off with weapons, then strode quickly to Carter’s side. “Agent Carter, those two are really going at it now. If we don’t intervene, someone could get hurt!”

Carter shook her head gently, her eyes never leaving the field. “Now? You think they’re just getting serious? Haven’t you noticed? They’ve been earnestly trying to defeat one another from the start.”

Joseph looked puzzled. “But why? This fight came out of nowhere. Isn’t it almost time for the White Star Project to depart?”

“I can only speculate,” Carter replied, her eyes clouded with meaning. “Steve has always kept something bottled up inside, waiting to be released. No matter what he did, Kyle was always a step ahead, leading the way.”

“The Super Soldier Experiment, the Adamantium Shield—both were opportunities indirectly given to him by Kyle. Even so, Steve still feels the gulf between them is too vast.”

“He’s not even confident in the title of Captain America. Deep down, he wonders: with these gifts and weapons, why must he always remain in Kyle’s shadow? He wants to step ahead, to shield Kyle for a change.”

“That’s why—before he leads the troops into enemy territory as their captain, Steve needs to find himself and his confidence in this battle with Kyle.”

As Carter finished speaking, the fierce contest in the center neared its end.

Sword clashed against shield with violent force, but there were no sparks, only the clear, ringing sound of metal echoing across the square.

After each blow was blocked or returned, the two men passed each other by, yet still delivered punishing punches with their fists.

Both Kyle and Steve were sent flying, rolling across the ground before springing up to resume their fierce duel, neither willing to back down.

They were the best of friends, yet also each other’s greatest rivals, each proud and unyielding in their own way.

Both hungered to stand at the forefront, to seize more of the stage and the spotlight of their era.

Beneath the sun, upon the wide square, Kyle with his sword and Steve with his shield finally charged toward each other with a guttural roar.

This unforgettable scene was etched into the eyes and memories of the thousand American soldiers at the base—so vivid that even half a century later, it would remain as clear as yesterday.

And even further into the future, this moment would be immortalized in sculpture by the most skilled artists, standing at the entrance to the War Memorial.

With a resounding crash, the Carbon Sodium Steel Sword flew high, spinning through the air before plunging into the mud not far behind Steve.

Steve remained frozen in the follow-through of his shield strike, while Kyle was sent hurtling backward, gouging a track through the earth before collapsing, utterly spent.

“Captain Steve?”

The soldiers were about to cheer for the victor when Steve, exhausted, raised his hand. “I lost.”

A thin line of blood traced the side of his neck—a small wound, but one that bled freely.

“That was exhausting,” Kyle said, struggling to his feet and brushing the dirt from his clothes.

The final blow had not been a loss of grip on his sword, but a deliberate throw, using the blade as a hidden weapon while taking a direct hit from the shield.

Had he not held back, Steve would have been decapitated.

“Kyle, you gave it your all, didn’t you?” Steve pressed his hand to the wound, breathing hard, his eyes bright as he looked at Kyle, awaiting an answer.

Kyle paused, then nodded. “That’s right.”

Though he hadn’t used Stealth or the Vibranium Bracers, Steve was still the toughest and most formidable opponent he’d ever faced.

“I see.” Steve nodded, satisfaction in his eyes. He clenched his fists with renewed resolve. “This time, I’ll let you take the lead. But one day, I’ll walk ahead of you! I owe you that much.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Kyle replied with a faint smile. He glanced around at the soldiers, drew a breath, and called out in a commanding voice, “Are you ready? To follow us onto the battlefield and crush our enemies?”

“Ready!” came the thunderous reply, echoing through the base as five hundred American soldiers leapt to their feet, gazes burning as they looked toward the two men at the center.

“Then grab your weapons and follow us!” Steve shouted. The assembled soldiers instantly snatched up their rifles and parted to clear a path.

After this battle, both men were battered and bruised, but their prestige had multiplied several times over, and the morale of the troops soared to unprecedented heights.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s move out!”

At their command, Kyle and Steve led the charge, their team streaming out of the base in high spirits.

Watching them go, Joseph exclaimed, “Those two might just change the course of the war.”

“You’re wrong,” Carter said with absolute certainty, watching the team depart. “They most certainly will.”