Chapter 112 - Leaving the capital, Gods of Combat
Rygar ran at great speed, his silhouette streaking through the air like thunder.
At his side, keeping up closely, was Ornthorn, the North Emperor. The two clashed repeatedly, and with each impact, the platform beneath their feet cracked, yielding under the brutality of their blows.
Ornthorn, despite measuring only one and a half meters tall and having an apparently slim build, wielded his gigantic three-meter golden sword with absurd dexterity.
Rygar had already suspected, but after some conversations and training with the Emperor, he confirmed what he had already imagined: Ornthorn was like him in some respects. Since childhood, he had possessed extraordinary physical strength, but for him, that became more of a curse.
Ornthorn's life had been marked by disadvantages. Mixed-race, green hair, and colossal strength—everything contributed to him being treated as a reincarnated, bloodthirsty demon.
His own family rejected him, seeing him as a monster, and he ended up being sold as a slave when he was a child.
Only when Kalman II found him was he freed and began to carve his own path in the world of the sword.
And then, there he was, the North Emperor, overcoming everyone who had despised him.
From recent training sessions, Rygar knew that Ornthorn was as strong as Larax, perhaps even stronger. The only reason he had lost to him was the special ability of Larax's scimitar, which split his sword in half.
At that moment, Tsukikage collided once more with Ornthorn's golden blade, and both smiled as they moved apart. Ornthorn planted his sword into the ground and took a deep breath.
"Your talent never ceases to amaze me, boy..." he said, still smiling.