Chapter 17 - In the Eye of the Storm
The dry sound of an impact reverberated through the clearing, followed by the violent displacement of leaves and dust. The force of the strike caused nearby trees to tremble. At the center of the commotion stood Rygar, his expression serious, sword in hand, chest rising and falling rhythmically as he maintained his combat stance.
Four Doldia warriors surrounded him. Facing him stood Hontar, his father, a man whose presence was synonymous with authority. Beside him, two seasoned veterans of the tribe, their scars a testament to countless battles fought. The fourth was a rising young warrior. All of them were advanced-level fighters.
Rygar relied solely on his physical strength, sword, instincts, and the techniques he had refined since childhood—no magic. His movements were a seamless blend of the Sword God style's aggression, with its swift and lethal strikes, and the adaptability of the North God style, filled with calculated dodges and devastating counterattacks. What truly set him apart, however, was his creativity: Rygar incorporated powerful kicks, acrobatic spins, and unconventional strikes that disrupted the rhythm of his opponents.
Hontar was the first to move. His straightforward punch was so powerful that the air itself seemed to vibrate, scattering dust before it even reached its target. Rygar dodged by the narrowest of margins, his movements as fluid and swift as a feline's. His motion stirred dry leaves into swirling eddies, a spectacle that captured the other combatants' attention.
Without losing momentum, Hontar attacked with a feint using a North God distraction technique, but Rygar spun on his axis and delivered a powerful sidekick. The blow connected with one of the warriors' torsos, sending him flying backward as if struck by a battering ram. The thunderous impact echoed through the clearing as the warrior slammed into a tree, collapsing to his knees, clutching his broken arm.
"Don't stop!" Hontar roared, his voice thunderous.
The remaining three advanced in unison, forming a pincer around Rygar. The tension in the air was palpable. Every move seemed meticulously calculated as the seasoned warriors sought to force Rygar into making a mistake.
But Rygar was in control. He ducked under a diagonal slash, the blade grazing close enough to sever a few strands of his hair. A blade strike quickly followed, which Rygar blocked with his own sword before countering with a direct punch to his opponent's stomach. The strike was so forceful that the ground cracked under the shockwave, and the warrior collapsed unconscious on impact, rolling dozens of meters before coming to a stop, frothing at the mouth.
The next warrior hesitated for a split second, and that was all Rygar needed to seize the offensive. He surged forward with impressive speed, delivering a sequence of sword strikes. Shallow cuts appeared on the warrior as he desperately tried to parry with his blade. Before Hontar could intervene, Rygar disarmed the warrior and stopped his blade after leaving a shallow cut on the opponent's neck.
In the end, only Hontar remained standing. Father and son faced each other, both breathing heavily but neither showing any sign of yielding.
"You've improved a lot, son," Hontar said, a predatory grin spreading across his face, a challenge in itself.