Capítulo 11: Rite Of Valor [II]
"Begin!"
My father moved first and he moved fast.
He was upon me in less than a fraction of a second.
"...What the fu—?!"
I didn't even have time to finish my curse or even take a proper stance. A massive left fist was already rocketing toward my jaw.
With a surge of adrenaline, I widened my eyes and hastily raised my sword to block his hook with the flat side of the blade.
—Tanggg!
His fist was like a sledgehammer striking an anvil.
A loud metallic clang echoed in the air as if my sword itself was crying out in agony.
The impact reverberated through my bones. It felt like I was trying to stop a moving mountain with a tiny twig.
I gritted my teeth, desperately holding his fist at bay, but he had two hands. Of course he had.
A second later, he shot a straight jab aimed at my face with his right hand.
My sword was still pushing back his other fist, leaving me completely exposed from the front.
I needed to retreat.
Having no other option, I quickly jumped back to a safe distance… just in time to feel the air stir with such violent ferocity that it threw my hair into disarray.
"Haaa!"
After landing a few steps back, I exhaled sharply, releasing an anxious breath I didn't even know I was holding.
That was too close.
If that punch had made contact with my face…
It could've easily caved in my skull!
"Running already?" My father's deep, ridiculing voice fell in my ears. His tone was full of condescension.
I glanced up to see him smirking so scornfully that it made my blood boil.
I hated this man.
I used to look up to him when I was little.
I remembered often staying up late at night, reading stories of his grand adventures when he was yet to be called the Golden Duke…
Like when he destroyed the main camp of Ishtara and ended the years long Civil War there all on his own.
Or how he single-handedly defeated an Elder Spirit when he was a mere S-ranker.
He even once defied the Authority of Time itself in the Grave of Old Gods before establishing the Golden Sanctuary in that Death-Zone.
I took pride in being his son whenever someone mentioned his name.
I wanted him to take pride in me as well. For a long time, I was desperate for his approval, his love, and his attention.
I resented my own twin sister because he favored her over me. Because she was strong.
But now I see I was a fool.
This man…
"You don't deserve my respect," I muttered under my breath and darted forward.
A fleeting look of surprise flashed in his eyes.
He was shocked. Why wouldn't he be?
No one – not even the strongest of Hunters – would ever dare to charge at him so openly.
But I knew that if I got pushed back here, I wouldn't find another chance to attack him. I had to be on the offensive here.
It was not at all because he hurt my pride by smirking at me. No, no.
The moment I stepped into striking range, I swung my sword in a wide arc, aiming to cleave him in two with practiced precision.
But my father parried the attack with his bare hand. The force of his block traveled up my arms, almost causing me to lose my grip on the sword.
—Clang!!
In one swift motion, he struck the blade with such tyrannical force that it shattered into shards, and a cascade of metallic splinters fell to the ground.
"Huh?!" I yelped in disbelief as the «Honorbound» Card, which had given the sword its form, broke into countless sparks of light.
Before I could fully process the loss, my father moved in and struck my chest with an open palm.
The brutal impact knocked the wind out of my lungs, sending me flying backward like a broken ragdoll.
I hit the ground hard, rolling before springing back to my feet, gasping for air as pain surged through my sternum.
But there he was again, relentless, closing in for another attack.
He raised his leg, bending it inward before thrusting forward to execute a powerful front kick at my chest.
Barehanded now, I crossed my arms over my body in a futile attempt to cushion the impact.
The kick connected with bone-crushing intensity, sending ripples of pain through my body. It felt like I was hit by a speeding car.
The sheer agony caused my arms to tremble as I staggered back, and my chest burned in pain, prompting me to let my guard down for just a second—a second too long.
Seizing the opening, my father delivered a lightning-fast punch to my chest, shattering the hard metal plate covering my upper body.
The «Noble's Guard» Card dissolved next, disintegrating into a shower of light along with my armor, leaving me with no added physical protection.
This had been his plan since the start.
He was targeting a single spot on my armor to strike until it shattered, just as he did with my sword.
I knew his tactics, but the problem was that his speed was simply overwhelming!
He was fighting me with infuriating ease!
For his massive size and muscle density, his agility was astounding, even with the Debuffs he applied to himself
Maybe this was the gap between a C-ranker like me and his SSS-rank. No matter the constraints, I could never match his level.
Not yet, anyway.
Desperate and more than a little hurt, I hopped back a few meters to create some distance and drew a spell card.
«Fireball»
If I couldn't match him in close quarters, I'd keep him at bay until I could.
"Burn!" I shouted, extending my hand and facing an open palm toward him.
A blazing ball of red and orange fire materialized before me and launched toward my father as if shot straight from a cannon.
"Idiot," he scoffed, nonchalantly slapping the fireball aside with the back of his hand like he was squatting a bug.
The flames dissipated harmlessly, leaving only a slight char on his skin as he continued his slow and menacing approach.
"When are you going to start fighting?" he taunted, disdain dripping from every word that left his mouth. "Or is this your best effort?"
"Fuck off!" I shouted, unleashing another fireball.
He dodged it, but I shot another, and then another – a barrage of them until the air between us was drowned by a sea of fiery explosions.
My Spirit Essence was depleting fast. Casting and utilizing Cards took energy, but I didn't care.
Don't get me wrong. I wasn't being pointlessly aggressive. Each fireball was buying me precious seconds to prepare my other Cards.
This was not the battle I was going to win by holding back. I needed to use everything I had at my disposal.
And so I did.
Three more cards materialized, floating above me with shiny runes etched into their surfaces.
«Strength Boost» and «Reflex Boost» appeared first.
As their names suggested, these Enhancement Category Cards significantly bolstered my strength and reflexes, allowing me to perform at peak human levels.
Finally, there was another Spell Card – «Mistfall» – that I grabbed and threw on the ground at my feet.
Just then, my father emerged from the torrent of flames.
Wisps of smoke danced around his muscular frame, yet not a single hair on his body was burnt.
In fact, not even his clothes were harmed. He was utterly unscathed by that firestorm.
He eyed me like a vengeful demon and bolted in my direction with terrifying speed. But this time, I rolled to the side before he could get me and narrowly evaded his strike.
However, as I got up and looked back, I realized he had snatched my «Fireball» Card from the air.
When materialized, Cards float close to the caster's body. It was possible to grab the card after it had been cast and even destroy it to prevent its further use.
"Haa," my father scoffed as he squashed my Card in his grip. "Anyone who can't even protect his Cards is not a true Hunter."
I didn't respond. Instead, I poured my Spirit Essence into the Card I had thrown to the ground earlier and activated it.
It erupted in a thick white mist like a military-grade smoke grenade going off. The courtyard was suddenly enveloped in a dense white fog, rendering visibility near zero.
I didn't like using this card. It veiled my vision as much as it did my opponent's. Such cards were typically used for retreat, not confrontation.
Yet this was my strategy—to use the cover of mist for my next move.
While my father's vision was still obscured, I moved to summon the last two cards from my arsenal.
It was time for my endgame.
My Origin Card appeared, emerging from an orb of radiant light. It took the form of a small, golden rectangle, emitting a vibrant glow.
«Materiokinesis»
This was the manifestation of my very soul, granting me my innate ability to manipulate matter on a simple level.
It was my ace.
My trump card.
Just then, from somewhere deep within the mist, I heard my father's ground-shattering roar, filled with both anger and challenge.
"Is this everything you have, Samael?! Give me everything!"
I quickly knelt, knowing he must have noticed the flash of light from my Origin Card's activation. I had to act fast.
Placing my hands on the cold, hard concrete ground, I altered its material makeup.
I knew he was coming at me, so I turned the ground under his feet malleable—a patch of spongy, unstable earth.
As expected, he stumbled, momentarily thrown off balance by the sudden change in terrain.
Using that time, I reshaped the concrete beside me, transmuting a long handle that protruded from the ground.
I stood up and yanked the handle, pulling out a massive battle hammer forged from the very same concrete that made up this courtyard, leaving a deep crater in its place on the land.
With a weapon in hand, I charged forward, swinging it with all my might while the Duke was still regaining his footing. This was my chance.
But my father barely flinched.
He shifted his weight just enough to sidestep the blow, letting the hammer crash into the softened earth.
And since I had put too much weight behind my swing, it was me who lost my footing this time.
Unfazed, my father used that chance to whip his leg in a swift arc, slamming it into my torso with the momentum of his sidestep.
"Khuaak!" I coughed up a mouthful of blood as my body flew sideways.
I used the hammer's weight to anchor myself and keep me upright, my feet leaving trenches on the mushy ground.
"Arghh," it took every bit of willpower I had in me not to fall right then and there.
His kick had broken several of my ribs. The pain was nearly overwhelming... nearly.
My muscles screamed with exhaustion, each fiber of my being pushed to its limit.
But I refused to fall.
With the last ounce of my strength, I reformed the battle hammer in my hand into a crude spear. It was thick and weighed as much as the hammer.
After all, I couldn't create or destroy mass, only transform it.
Taking a deep breath, I hurled the spear at my father, aiming for his heart.
But, in a display of his unyielding might, he grasped it mid-air and tossed it aside.
Yet that distraction was all I needed.
Dropping to one knee, I pressed my palms to the ground once again and channeled even more Spirit Essence into my innate ability, straining my soul to the extreme.
The ground trembled violently as I altered the very earth around us, forming jagged spikes from the concrete, surrounding the Duke in a cage of stone lances.
He glanced around, unimpressed at my display of power, but I wasn't finished yet.
"Let's see how you like this!" I snarled, focusing all my willpower on the stone spikes.
With a mental command, I sent them hurtling toward him from every direction, trying to skewer him with their jagged tips.
…But even all that wasn't enough.
With a single, sweeping motion of his arm, the Golden Duke shattered the spikes that dared to invade his personal space, reducing them to dust and debris.
Each swing was like the strike of a god, breaking through my defenses with raw, unrivaled force.
He... was unstoppable.
But that was fine.
I was prepared for this.
As my father demolished my stone spikes and closed in on me with a fierce, predatory intensity, I triggered my final gambit.
The ground beneath him softened again, only this time turning something similar to quicksand and trapping his legs.
"Got you!" I shouted, seizing the opportunity as I charged at him for the third time since this duel began.
My breath was ragged, my body screaming in protest, but I pressed on, driven by nothing but desperation. And pure spite.
The trap didn't hold him for long.
In an explosive burst of energy, he willed his Spirit Essence into his legs, shattering the quicksand and freeing himself with ease.
Then… he moved in a blur and grabbed me by the throat.
Before I could even realize what had happened, he effortlessly lifted me into the air.
"Graah!" I choked, my feet kicking helplessly as I struggled against his iron grip.
His eyes bore into mine, as cold and uncaring as ever.
"I have seen enough. If this is all you have to show for yourself, then I will end this now," he declared, though I couldn't help but smirk despite the dire situation.
The mist was still surrounding us. Because of it, my father hadn't noticed the dagger in my hand – a wickedly sharp white blade with a black leather handle.
«Grimclaw's Talon»
Without any hesitation, I slashed his wrist using it.
The blade cut deep, severing nerves and causing his grip on my neck to slacken.
"...Oh?" he murmured, barely registering the pain as he retracted his hand and let me fall to my feet.
This was my chance!
I stepped in closer to him as fast as I could and thrust the dagger toward his chest.
The thing is…
My Origin Card granted me the power to manipulate matter, but I wasn't yet on a level where I could disintegrate organic matter with just a touch.
I couldn't deconstruct inorganic materials, either.
All I could do was reshape and slightly alter their properties – like softening something hard, molding anything like clay, or turning liquid into solid.
And yes, that included blood.
To do that on a living being… to freeze their blood while it was still in their body, I needed an open wound, a direct conduit to their bloodstream.
So, this had been my endgame from the start – to just make him bleed and get close enough to touch him.
That was why I let him destroy my armor and sword without too much resistance so he would drop his guard and give me the chance to step near him.
That was also why I used the cover of the mist to plan my next attacks.
I even succeeded in the end… somewhat.
Earlier, I slashed his wrist, but he retracted his hand before I could touch it. But if I wound him again and moved before he could, then I would win!
However…
—Thud!!
Just as my blade neared its target, my father's hand came crashing down on my shoulder and dislocated it with a brutal chop.
I lost my grip on the Grimclaw's Talon.
In a seamless motion, my father caught the dagger as it slipped through my fingers and, with indifferent cruelty… plunged it into my stomach.
"Ah— Haaa!"
I couldn't even scream—the agony was so intense it robbed me of breath.
I could feel the blade buried deep in my gut. The world spun around me as my mind reeled from the organ-rending pain.
In the midst of that anguish, as I collapsed to my knees, I heard my father chuckle overhead—a cold and ruthless laugh.
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