"Take no offense from my words, sir, but I can kill Volkov regardless of whether you help or not. What will change if you help is when it would happen."
"You look very sure about yourself, young man. But do not be mistaken. To , your words are just those of an arrogant brat."
Erik smiled.
"My words may look like those of an arrogant brat, that's for sure."
"But they are backed by sothing," he paused to increase the emphasis on his next words "Power."
Van Dyke looked at Erik with a humorless snort.
"Power, you say? We'll see about that, boy."
He grinned, and Erik did the sa. Then the older man rose and ran toward the younger man. He was fast, and a lot at that.
Erik dodged out of the way as Van Dyke swung his war hamr in a wide arc, aiming for Erik's torso.
The Red Palace's principal surged forward again, his hamr swinging in a programd pattern devised to test Erik's agility and reflexes.
Erik dodged each swing, anticipating Van Dyke's movents with a precise analysis of the older man's battle stance, muscle contractions, and trajectories of his attacks.
Erik dodged each swing, anticipating Van Dyke's movents with a precise analysis of the older man's battle stance, muscle contractions, and trajectories of his attacks.
Van Dyke swung his war hamr in a wide arc, aiming for Erik's head.
Erik ducked low, the wind whistling past his ear as the weapon smashed into the stone floor with a deafening clang. Van Dyke bellowed in frustration, but Erik was already moving.
He pivoted on the balls of his feet, slipping past a follow-up swing aid at his legs.
The hamr whooshed past him, sending a tremor through the ground.
Van Dyke wasn't done yet. He spun on his heel, the war hamr a deadly blur in his grip.
Erik anticipated the attack, sidestepping just as the weapon whistled where his head had been a mont before.
While gritting his teeth, Van Dyke launched another assault, a flurry of powerful blows that rained down on Erik.
But the younger man was a whirlwind of controlled movent.
He weaved, bobbed, and dipped, turning Van Dyke's own montum against him.
Each swing of the hamr missed its mark, the older man's frustration growing with every clang against the unforgiving floor.
Erik showed no aggression of his own, content to only evade and prove his point to the older
man.
Who instead was growing more and more angry. Most likely, he didn't expect Erik to be really that good.
However, Erik also knew Van Dyke sought to assess his skills, not cause genuine harm.
Apparently, though, Fischer and Lain were unaware of this, as shown by their expressions of fear and shock.
They knew Erik was strong, but they didn't think he was strong enough to evade all of Van Dykes' attacks and make it look like it was easy.
But there he was, doing exactly that.
At the sa ti, it beca clear to Erik that the man in front of him was strong. How he could have had trouble against the Blirdoth was totally out of understanding.
That beast must have been much stronger than he imagined back then. If that was true, back then Erik had not simply been lucky. He had been blessed.
Erik knew Van Dyke was much stronger than now in his youth and wondered how strong he
was.
However, on physical stats alone, he could have never surpassed Erik. If people only fought using strength, he would always win. There would be no one strong enough to oppose him.
And yet, the situation was different, and that was because a single brain crystal power could still kill him.
Van Dyke eyed Erik, grudging respect and doubt, etched his weathered features. But there was also... surprise, maybe hope.
Hope that what Fischer and Lain said was true. Hope that Erik Romano, once a mber of his prestigious organization, could really free this country.
The skills he was showing were incredible, on a par with the best students in the Red Palace. No, it was more than that.
Erik was showing skills on par with many teachers, and that was talking about skills alone.
There was much more to him than the eye could see. Speed, strength, he had them all, and Van Dyke was sure that Erik was still hiding a lot of strength.
"You've got so skill, boy," he said.
"That's what I was talking about," Erik said, his voice laced with a mixture of confidence and challenge.
"Power," Erik grinned.
Van Dyke studied the younger man for a long mont as he circled around him.
Finally, he grunted and slamd the butt of his war hamr onto the floor, the resonant
boom echoing through the room.
"We'll see how much that power of your will help you."
Erik started circling Van Dyke, as much as the older man was doing with him.
They moved so fast that inside the room, a circle appeared.
Lain and Fischer weren't able to see what was happening; they only saw a giant blurred image
in which it was impossible to understand what was happening.
"That's sothing I would have never thought to say to soone your age, old man. In a battle, emotions are your greatest enemy. They cloud your thoughts and make you predictable. And a predictable opponent is easily defeated."
Van Dyke growled as his grip tightened around his war hamr. "Emotions? What emotions are you talking about, young man? There is none on my face. Beside in my lifeti, I've faced countless enemies, including brats like you who overestimated their skills. I've erged victorious every single ti."
"Then this will be your first defeat against an arrogant brat, old man."
Van Dyke's face flushed with anger. With an uncontrollable fury, he raised his hamr once
more.
Erik knew that this ti there would be no holding back, but he still teased.
"Here they are your emotions!"
With reflexes honed to perfection, Erik dodged the hamr's deadly arc.
He felt the wind whistle past his ear as the weapon crashed against the ground, sending a
shower of sparks flying.
In that split second, he saw an opening, his mind calculating the angle, the force, and the
precise mont to strike. He was going to punch the old man.
He couldn't use brain crystal powers, or he would die though.
The air crackled with energy as he delivered a lightning-fast punch, aiming for Van Dyke's
solar plexus.
The impact was like a thunderclap. Van Dyke doubled over, his breath knocked out of him.
He stumbled backward, clutching his chest in agony. Erik didn't pursue him. Instead, he stood tall, his eyes unwavering and cold.
"Do you still think mine were just words?" Erik said, his voice echoing in the silence. Van Dyke raised his head and looked at the younger man.
"What Fischer and Captain Lain told you weren't just so stories."
Van Dyke's eyes were filled with a mixture of anger, defeat, and sothing else: grudging
respect.
"Even if that strength is real, how can you take charge of the whole resistance? You may be strong, but you are inexperienced."
"You misunderstood. I do not need to take charge of the resistance. What I wanted was to take advantage of your buildings, your safe routes, and your information network. In return, I was going to provide a powerful army."
Van dyke remained silent. It looked like he really misunderstood the young man.
"I told you Becker is now working with him, old man," Major Fischer said. "He is the reason
we survived until now."
Those words made it more plausible for Erik to have an army.
"So, what are you going to do? Will you work with to kill Volkov, or will you stubbornly
cling to your status?"
Erik watched as Van Dyke stood up from the ground, setting aside his war hamr. To Erik's
surprise, the old warrior smiled.
"To that proposition, I can agree," Van Dyke said, extending his hand. "Any enemy of Volkov
is a friend of mine."
Erik eyed him for a mont before stepping forward and shaking his hand. Van Dyke's grip
was still strong, despite his age.
The tension in the room dissipated, and Lain and Fischer visibly relaxed, sighing with relief.
It seed they had feared a confrontation between Erik and Van Dyke could complicate the situation. To the point, they would lose the Red Palace's support.
Luckily, nothing like that happened, and since Van Dyke agreed to Erik's proposal, there was nothing holding back Fischer and Lain anymore.
"You'll have access to whatever resources you need," Lain said. "Our network is at your
disposal."
Fischer nodded. "And any intelligence we gather that could be useful to you will be sent."
Van Dyke gazed at Erik. "You fight well for one so young."
"Thanks, I had outstanding teachers," Erik said, bootlicking the man a little. The Red Palace's teachers were those who taught him, after all.
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