“Ready?” Jasmine shouted from the ramparts.
Two towering n stood twenty ters apart, sizing each other up. The younger one had a laid-back vibe. Barefoot, shirtless, and with wild hair, he was facing the world with nothing but a curious gaze and a pair of mist-woven pants. Opposite him stood a colossus with short hair, dressed in the simple but rugged garb of a martial society: plain trousers, a short-sleeved top, and reinforced shoes.
Despite their contrasting appearances, they shared one thing in common: danger radiated from them. Their chiseled muscles and sharp eyes betrayed their warrior nature.
The handful of spectators gathered along the battlents knew full well that brute strength wasn’t their only weapon. The rchant had even insisted that the duel not take place in the Forum—a central square of indestructible stone where his shop was located. Thus, the two combatants squared off under the sprawling branches of a Tal Quercus tree.
The wind rustled through the grass, the crimson light bathed the glistening leaves, and the nearby river murmured in its bed; the world seed as peaceful as the warriors were focused. Nothing would distract them from victory.
“Three... Two—”
“Go!” Sphinx roared, too impatient to wait for the countdown to finish.
Both n launched themselves forward, pushing the air aside in their wake. They closed the gap in a heartbeat, their spears clashing in a shower of sparks. The collision created a void, revealing the result to all: the point of impact was equidistant from their faces. The first exchange had no victor.
There would be many more.
In the blink of an eye, their weapons t ten more tis. On the eleventh, the combatants locked in a final confrontation. With their spears pressed against each other, the duel shifted. Instead of trying to strike without being hit, each warrior now poured all their strength into overpowering the other.
Muscles bulged, and their hearts pounded furiously to fuel their efforts. The ground buckled under their feet, torn apart by the force of two titans. Just as they were about to falter, the exposed roots of the magical tree provided them with solid footing. Adjusting to the new terrain, they unleashed the vast reserves of power within them.
Red-faced, veins throbbing, the two warriors growled as they squeezed every ounce of strength from their bodies. The force between them could have torn apart solid steel, but their cells withstood it. These bodies had long surpassed the limits of re biology.
Then, the balance tipped. In this impromptu tug-of-war, the mist chosen began to give ground. His opponent was stronger and had an overwhelming advantage with Micro II. It was expected from one of the paths leading to the Zenith.
“Fuck,” Priam muttered, realizing he was losing ground. If his position beca too weak, he would topple backward, and the hoplite would seize the upper hand. That was not an option.
Changing tactics, the Homo Elysian locked his joints, using his unique constitution to resist the enemy’s brute strength. His body stopped trembling, becoming as immovable as stone.
The second warrior frowned. His body, taut like a bowstring, couldn’t push his opponent any further. Realizing sheer force alone wouldn’t cut it, he changed tactics and used his head—literally.
A vicious headbutt slamd into the rising star’s nose. As droplets of blood flew, a cry rang out.
The hoplite staggered back, rubbing his forehead. Across from him, his opponent stood unscathed, chuckling softly.
“Did I just fracture my skull on your nose cartilage?” The spearmaster was incredulous, the idea so absurd he needed confirmation.
“I told you, I stood toe-to-toe with a Tier 4. With my constitution and resistances, brute strength alone won’t cut it anymore; you’ll need to tap into your Spear Mastery.”
Channeling his vitality with Micro, the more experienced of the two grimaced. His Tribulations were coming, and he couldn’t afford to waste his ntal endurance. A ray of light refracted off his legendary spear’s blade, and he smirked.
“Let’s see about that.”
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