Chapter 19 - Chapter 19: Indomitable Will and Fatal Coup (Fight Part 2)

Every movement was torture. The broken ribs of Gù Ti?nháo shouted in protest at every gasping breath, and his left side appeared to be on fire. But the image of the Iron Skin Boar breaking free from mud and investing again was a more potent motivator than any pain. He crawled, scratched, using arms and legs in a desperate race for survival toward the narrow passage between the rocks he had previously identified. The passage was about thirty meters away - an eternity under the pursuit of an angry beast. The boar let out another roar of rage when he saw his prey trying to escape and attacked again, the earth trembling under his hulls. Ti?nháo could hear the gasping breath and the growls of the beast right behind him. He dared not look back. He concentrated all his remaining energy, all his Level 2 IQ, on his legs, ignoring acute pain. He needed to get to the passage. Ten meters. Five meters. He could see the rope ties he had prepared, almost invisible against the dark rocks. With one last desperate effort, he threw himself into the narrow passageway, rolling to avoid the rocky walls. The next instant, the Iron Skin Boar entered the passage behind it, its colossal mass filling almost all of space. Just as Tiannháo expected, the narrow passage restricted the movements of the boar. He could no longer use his full speed or maneuver easily. And, more importantly, he passed straight through the rope ties that Ti?nháo had positioned near the ground. Squeeze! The loops, made of the strongest hemp rope he could buy and anchored in crevices in the rocks, tightened around the thick front legs of the boar. The rope stretched to the limit, creaking under the tension, but endured - for a moment. The boar let out a cry of frustration and pain when his paws were arrested. He stumbled, his onslaught abruptly interrupted. It was only a momentary pause - the strength of the beast was such that Tianháo knew that the rope would not last long - but it was the pause he needed. Ignoring his injuries, Ti?nháo stood up reeling. He didn't have his knife, but his eyes swept the floor frantically. There! Near the rocky wall was a sharp stone, the size of his hand, probably chipped from rock formations by some previous impact. He grabbed her. It was a pathetic weapon against the iron skin of the boar, but that was all he had. The boar was already recovering, struggling furiously against the ropes, which were beginning to shred. Tiannháo knew that he had only one chance, a weakness that he had failed to reach before. Remembering the excruciating pain of tyrannical art, he made a reckless decision. He forced his IQ to circulate according to the most brutal paths of the technique, not to absorb, but to generate a momentary explosion of force and speed, even if it meant further damaging his already tense meridians. A wave of familiar but intensified pain ran through her body, but along with it came a wave of wild energy. The moment the boar finally broke the ropes with one last powerful tug, Ti?nháo attacked. Using the burst of speed of Tyrannical Art, he jumped on the body of the beast, which was still slightly unbalanced. This time, he did not hesitate. With the pointed stone firmly clinging, he aimed at the left eye of the boar - the same side where his knife had caused the surface wound. With a cry that was part pain, part fury, part pure will, he struck. The sharp stone, driven by its enhanced strength and desperate energy of the moment, struck the boar's eye with a sick and damp sound. The world seemed to stop for a moment. The boar froze, its massive body trembling. Then a sound that was not a cry, but a sharp, penetrating squeak of pure agony, tore the air. The eye had been destroyed. Blind on one side and maddened by unimaginable pain, the boar began to struggle blindly in the narrow passage, beating against the walls of rock with a force that made dust rain and small fragments rain. Ti?nháo was thrown away again, hitting hard against the opposite wall. This time, the darkness threatened to engulf him. His injuries were serious, the effort to use Tyrannical Art in this way had left him terribly exhausted, and the impact on the rock left him dizzy and nauseated. He could feel the blood dripping from a cut on his head. But he forced himself to remain conscious. He saw the boar still squealing and struggling, retreating a few steps out of the narrow passage, back to the muddy clearing, perhaps trying to understand what had happened or escape the pain. A last desperate idea arose in the mind of Ti?nháo. His knife. The boar had ripped her off and played far at the beginning of the fight. Where did she fall? With the blurred vision, he swept through the clearing. There! Shining faintly in the mud near the tree the boar had hit - his hunting knife. Gathering the last drop of his strength, the last spark of his indomitable will, Tianháo began to crawl out of the passage towards his weapon. Every movement was an agony, his ribs seemed to pierce his lungs, but he did not stop. The boar, still partially blind and disoriented by pain, was circulating erratically in the clearing. He saw Ti?nháo moving, a small injured insect crawling in his peripheral vision. With a low, threatening grunt, he turned around, preparing to trample on the human who had caused him so much pain. Ti?nháo reached the knife. His fingers closed around the family cable. It was like meeting an old friend in hell. The boar attacked, its front legs raised to crush. Ti?nháo did not try to get up. He didn't have the strength to do that anymore. Instead, he rolled on his back, the knife firmly attached to both hands, the tip facing upwards. As the boar's paws descended, Ti?nháo used the last atom of his Qi and physical strength to push the blade upwards, aiming at the slightly softer area under the massive jaw of the boar, where the throat would be. The skin there was still incredibly resistant, but it was not the iron plate of the flanks. The sharp tip of the knife, driven by the downward weight of the boar itself and the desperate strength of Ti?nháo, met with resistance, then gave in. The entire blade sank into the throat of the Iron Skin Boar. The beast froze in the middle of the attack, a bubbling sound escaping from its severed throat. His red eyes (or what was left of them) widened in shock and disbelief. He staggered backwards, blood gushing from the fatal wound. He took a few more trembling steps, then fell aside with a tremor that shook the clearing floor. A last bubbly sigh escaped his lungs, and then the Iron Skin Boar was motionless. Silence again. Only the sound of blood dripping in the mud and the shallow, painful breathing of Ti?nháo. He had won. Against all odds, against an enemy who should have crushed him easily, he had won. But the cost was terrible. He looked at his own body - covered in mud and blood, his left side a mass of pain, his head barking, his meridians screaming for the misuse of tyrannical art. He tried to move, but the force completely abandoned him. The darkness that hung at the edges of his vision advanced, and this time, he could not fight against it. With the image of the dead boar in front of him, Gù Ti?nháo finally succumbed to his injuries and exhaustion, fainting in the cold mud of the Black Mist Forest.