I Got My System Late, But I'll Become Beastgod

The moment Raj’s fist clashed against Zenith’s, shockwaves rippled through the air, flattening dust and debris around them. With each strike, Raj’s fingers danced across Zenith’s pressure points, aiming to shut down his limbs.

But it didn’t work.

Zenith’s arms still moved—almost as if they had wills of their own.

Raj narrowed his eyes. "How are you not affected? I’ve hit every critical point."

Zenith grinned mid-combat. "It’s my technique. They call it the Kinetic Transfer Core."

Their fists collided again, thunder cracking in their wake.

"Every time I get hit," Zenith continued, "I either absorb the kinetic energy and send it into the ground, or I store it in my core to redirect later. That’s why your pressure point tricks don’t work on me."

Raj clicked his tongue and leaped into a spin-kick, knocking Zenith back several meters. But Zenith stood up, brushing dust off his torn shirt like it was nothing.

Raj landed, panting. "These kinds of techniques exist...?"

His attacks kept landing—fists, elbows, knees—but they did nothing.

Unknowingly, they had drifted far from the main battlefield. Now they stood among broken towers and a long-forgotten ruined city, shattered and silent.