Destruction King (2)
The Destruction King Hector shared the same flaw—and identity—with Kara. He resorted to violence all too easily. It wasn't that he loved violence like some deranged murderer; he simply preferred brute force over intellect. Even after founding Tatar, that hadn't changed much. He'd simply cultivated greater patience. He hadn't fully shed his barbarian ways. As the saying goes, habits from age three last until eighty, so Hector was holding back as best he could.
'But does that mean he just swings his axe out of nowhere?'
I floundered briefly under Hector's surprise attack but quickly regained my senses. The problem was that I'd come to them midair. His single blow had sent my body hurtling far away. How much raw power did it take to punch through the ceiling like that?
I knew Hector's strength was immense. But feeling it firsthand was worlds apart from seeing it in the game. Aside from Porori, I'd rarely taken a hit like this.
Whoooosh—
My body, soaring like a shooting star, began its slow descent under gravity's pull. The moment I sensed the fall, I glanced downward. He'd blasted me so far that a forest stretched out below.
'I don't know how to land properly...'
At least I'd gained one valuable lesson. I steadied myself as best I could in midair and touched down softly. The long hang time made balancing easy enough. After this spar ended, I'd learn proper landing techniques first thing.
Thud!
The instant my feet hit the ground, Hector landed right in front of me with a thunderous crash. The earth trembled faintly under his weight. He must be as heavy as he looked.
He stretched his body this way and that, then extended his right hand backward and spoke to me.
"Consider that payback for roughing up my daughter. I'm a father too, you know."
Clank!
As his words ended, Ragnarok—an axe-hammer hybrid—materialized in his grip. Not just Ragnarok could be summoned back; any weapon could with the right enchantment. But the cost was steep, and few had the skill to pull it off. Tatar's master craftsmen made it possible.
"As you heard, red-eyed ones carry the berserk trait. When it triggers, they gain immense power temporarily but destroy everything around them without distinguishing friend from foe."
"... ..."
He was right. In Soul World, berserk monsters or beasts usually roamed alone. For one reason: berserk mode killed everything in sight. Some theorized it was a kind of disease, but nothing was proven.
"Let's see if you're the same. First, your skills while sane."
Hector approached slowly as he spoke. I adopted a guarded stance and waited silently.
Hector ranked just below Lord among the strong. Considering Lord was top-tier, that made him incredibly powerful. In Soul World, fighting him required specific conditions—which I'd met early on. It was disorienting.
'Still, I know his fighting style...'
Hector's combat resembled Kara's but differed. She relied on technique and agility; he was heavy and overpowering. His physical stats alone outclassed mine. Stamina was my only edge, maybe. His strength was over 150, I recalled. Better avoid a test of power.
Thud thud thud!
As I pondered his abilities, he charged with surprising speed, arms spread wide. The motion looked sluggish, but his velocity was bizarrely high. I scrambled to move my legs.
Whoosh!
I dodged sideways, and he closed in like a bear hug. Ragnarok hung on his back. Seizing the opening, I drove a fist into his exposed side—Kara's body blow.
Bam!
It felt like striking rock. Unlike with Kara, no holding back. He was leagues stronger than me right now. Objective fact.
"Excellent!"
Hector laughed heartily, unfazed. Then his fist—big as my head—rocketed toward my face. Lightning-fast, proving his superior stats. I barely twisted away.
Too fast for a counter; dodging was best.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whew! Whoosh!
The problem: a barrage. Five-plus punches in under a second. Not light jabs—full hip-and-shoulder swings. Each one heavy, devastating.
Thwack!
I tracked and evaded most visually, but the last forced a block with my arm.
"Ugh..."
It stung even through my arm. No lightning involved. No time to think. I countered instantly toward his jaw.
Crack!
His head snapped back—did he let it land? I didn't press; instinct screamed danger. Trusting my senses from the wild, I leaped back.
His hand whistled past my nose.
"Hmph. Not fooled."
As expected, a trap. He grinned, unscathed—Kara's spitting image. How perilous was that, per my Wild Instinct?
He'd taken a solid hit, surely. In Soul World, you couldn't let Hector grab you. Not technically—just a plain grab, like I'd done to Kara. Imagine that bulk bear-hugging you: bones to dust.
"That's not all you've got, right?"
True to Tatar blood, he taunted masterfully. No reply from me—I charged. Only bare-knuckle brawling available without a weapon. Should've asked for prep time. I had something left, but for full commitment later.
"No distractions!"
Thwap!
He snatched my thrusting fist effortlessly and bellowed. Felt fast to me, but too easy. I yanked, futile. Without mana, his strength unbeatable.
Whoosh!
He spun me like a top, hurling me via centrifugal force. Midair, even realizing I was flying took time—no balance.
Crack!
I slammed into a tree, snapping it in half. Thick trunk, shattered by one throw. Confirmed his monstrous strength and my durability.
"Ditch the petty probing. I want your true self."
Hector urged as he closed in. I spat sawdust from my mouth and glared. Probing was pointless; he'd dismantle any technique. Down to my strongest: raw fighting.
Grip!
I seized the fallen tree trunk with both hands.
Crunch!!
And swung it at him. Wood splintered, gritty feel in my palms. Sawdust flew, but I ignored it, eyes forward. Effective—Hector staggered.
I rushed, swinging a fist.
Whoosh!
Miss. He'd ducked. Glancing down, his grin met mine.
'Danger...!'
Thud!
My Wild Instinct screamed as he cleaved my side with an axe I hadn't seen him draw. Pain rivaling Porori's fight. My tough body meant nothing against his overwhelming force. Ragnarok helped.
Schlup!
He yanked it from my gut. Grimacing, I retreated. Blood soaked my shirt red. Shame—it was a favorite.
"Now your clothes match your eyes."
Hector mocked, axe over his shoulder. I glared, fuming. Regeneration healed it fast, but anger lingered. Neck hit would've been fatal. Gut too—for a normal person, bisected easy.
"...You."
"Yeah?"
"Regen."
No more fisticuffs chit-chat. I told Hector that and circulated my mana.
Simple: tense it inside like flexing muscles. Sounds dumb, but no better way to explain.
"Finally getting serious..."
I moved before he finished. Muscles ignited, distance vanished. Time slowed; Hector's eyes widened facing me.
Splat!!
Fist smashed his face dead-on. His massive frame rocketed away. Mana boosted all stats sharply—double them, roughly. But my red mana output was absurdly high. With it, I could match him.
Crunch!
He crashed through dense trees like matchsticks. His size toppled them effortlessly. Not over yet—he'd shrug it off.
I gathered red mana in my hands, shaping it slowly.
"Yes. Should've started like this."
He rose, brushing off sawdust and dirt casually, eyes gleaming green.
"Thought you were just a beast..."
"... ..."
"That's your real weapon?"
His question made sense—my hands were cloaked in crimson mana, shaped like beast claws. Forest life taught hunting, crafting weapons that broke often. Bare hands prevailed. I'd made these claws for kills.
"Red mana, huh... Feels familiar..."
Ignoring his mutter, I swept my arms upward.
Slash!
Five crimson arcs flew at him—fast, rock-slicing sharp.
"Hup!"
Crackle!
Hector swung Ragnarok hard; blue lightning erupted like a curtain with a windburst.
Boom!
My attack halted cleanly. Just probing—no regret. But notable: he'd tapped mana for lightning.
I charged as the barrier faded. He grinned back.
Whoosh!
Up close, axe toward my shoulder. Normally dodge, but...
Thud!
I took it. Blade bit deep, lightning surging. Hector's eyes bulged—unforeseen. Planned this.
Grip!
Before recall, I clamped the haft tight. Futile against his strength, but I needed a split second.
Splat!
Punched his face hard amid his pause. He flew back; axe slipped free, nicking me—ignored.
Rumble!
Trees toppled in his wake. This forest might end up cleared.
I roughly regenerated my shoulder and leaped high, then chopped down at prone Hector.
Boom!
Miss—empty ground. He'd rolled away. But my iron stamina fueled pursuit.
Slash!
Mana claws raked his chest—five gashes. Ignoring defense let me nullify his too. Dodge lethals, tank minor for counters. Forest survival style; maxed my regeneration.
Crunch!
Axe in my left side again. Not just embedded—he twisted with arm and waist, spinning me.
Thud!
Slammed to earth. I rolled before follow-up.
Kaboom!
His foot cratered the spot. Head would've exploded.
I stood, retreating steps. Lightning danced on his axe. Blood poured from my side, shirt mostly red now. Two side hits—no bother. Mana overflowed, stamina solid, pain familiar.
Regenerated and charged.
"Hm!"
Two-handed overhead axe chop, blue lightning loaded. I met it head-on—not taking it blindly.
Thud!
Grabbed the haft pre-swing. This damn axe was the issue. Unfair fighting barehanded.
Crackle! Zap!
Lightning poured in post-grab. Far beyond Kara's—near Porori's level. Blessed by destruction god Gulrak, as expected.
"Urghk...!"
"Hrrrngh!"
I fought muscle spasms, enduring. He gnashed teeth, pushing. Mana-equalized strength near-even. But his leverage won; axe inched toward my head.
Split it'd go. As blade neared eyes, I forced it to shoulder.
Thwap!
Punch followed—instant block. Learned from last; he caught with free hand. Other gripped haft.
Crack!
His iron forehead met mine—headbutt counter. Dazed us both, head spinning.
"Ugh..."
He staggered more. My skull tougher, luckily. But...
Slash!
Claw swipe before he recovered. Deep chest gashes anew. His wounds mounted; mine regenerated clean.
Crunch!
Axe in gut again. Body lifted, soaring far.
Rumble rumble!
Trees domino-fell. Agony ignored, I rose. Side still ached—glanced: Ragnarok embedded. Tossed with me.
"Now I get it. That insane regeneration lets you pull this madness."
Hector spoke seriously ahead. I eyed him, axe untouched. Ominous aura. Wild Instinct blared danger.
Crackle! Zap zap!
Dust cleared: lightning cloaked his whole body, not just arms like Kara's. Eyes gleamed blue lightning.
A thunder god descended.
"Then..."
True power of Destruction King Hector: lightning-clad destroyer, second only to Lord.
"I'll make regeneration meaningless."
He raised arms slowly. I ripped the axe free roughly and charged. Full power shown—one thing certain via instinct.
No chance of winning.
Boom!
My claws neared piercing as his arms slammed down.
Kaboom!!
Lightning waves erupted, ravaging the forest.
Kaboom!!
"...Huh?"
Meanwhile, Ratatosk—the dog-sized squirrel spirit—wandered the forest away from Ellie. Thunder from clear skies puzzled him; he turned, cheeks puffed with nuts, mouth chewing, acorn in paw.
Ellie in class, he'd lounged eating acorns. No threats anyway.
"Someone praying to the sky?"
He shrugged it off at first.
"...!!"
But the aura post-lightning perked his ears. He whipped toward the source, face baffled.
What the hell?
"...Damn it. For real."
He ditched the acorn and bolted.
"What lunatic's begging to die?"