CHAPTER FIFTEEN "Patas na Kabayaran" (Just Retribution)
The clash between Tayog and General Slasher raged with unrelenting fury, the battlefield choked with towering spires of swords conjured by the general's power. Each blade gleamed with deadly intent, slicing through the air to hem Tayog in.
Yet Tayog, fueled by an overflowing well of energy, shattered the steel monoliths with his iron fists, clearing a path through the chaos. His arms, pulsating with raw power, grew stronger with every strike, each blow a testament to his indomitable will.
General Slasher, however, was no ordinary foe. Keeping a calculated distance of over twenty meters, he wielded his advantage with precision, launching volleys of giant shuriken and raising new sword towers to keep Tayog at bay.
Tayog noticed the general's strategy—Slasher wasn't engaging directly but stalling, wearing him down. The massive shuriken tore into Tayog's body, slowing his movements. His hulking frame, though powerful, lacked the agility to close the gap.
"He's too clever," Tayog thought, frustration mounting. "He's controlling the fight, dictating the pace. I can't keep up at this distance."
Slasher's tactics were masterful, exploiting Tayog's sluggishness while avoiding close combat. Tayog realized time was his enemy—his power cores, the source of his monstrous form, were dwindling. Each injury drained the energy sustaining him, and the cores scattered across the battlefield were growing scarce.
"He's anticipating my moves, countering every step. I can't defeat him unless I get close," Tayog resolved.
Wooden daggers, infused with life energy, rained down, embedding themselves in Tayog's body. Each strike fueled him further, sustaining his beastly form despite the pain. Ignoring the swords piercing his flesh, he charged straight for Slasher, his resolve outweighing the agony.
The general faltered, shocked by Tayog's reckless advance. Slasher leaped forward, seizing the chance to meet Tayog head-on. With a swift thrust, he drove a blade into Tayog's forehead.
"Die, you savage!" Slasher roared, the sword buried deep.
A guttural scream tore through the air as Tayog howled in pain. Yet, even as the blade bit into his skull, he refused to waste the moment. With a surge of strength, he seized Slasher in his massive hands.
The general's eyes widened in disbelief. He had expected the strike to fell Tayog, but the giant remained standing, his grip unyielding. Slasher's calculations had failed, and now he was at the mercy of his foe.
Tayog tightened his hold, crushing Slasher in his colossal fists. The general struggled, realizing too late that his plan had backfired. He had underestimated Tayog's resilience, fueled by the life energy of his fallen comrades.
"He's using their energy to stay alive," Slasher thought, panic creeping in. "Damn it, I didn't see this coming."
Tayog's eyes blazed with fury, radiating a primal intensity that struck fear into Slasher's heart. "He's desperate," the general realized. "He took my attack just to trap me."
With a roar, Tayog lifted Slasher and slammed him into the ground. The earth shuddered, the street fracturing under the impact as Slasher's body was buried in a crater of rubble.
The general groaned, his armored form battered but still intact. Tayog didn't relent. He raised his fists and struck again, each blow shaking the ground. Slasher, dazed and unable to dodge, absorbed the full force of Tayog's wrath.
"Die!" Tayog bellowed, his fists raining down relentlessly. Each punch cracked Slasher's armor, fueled by Tayog's unyielding rage. The wooden daggers continued to pierce Tayog's back, feeding him the energy to prolong his assault.
"Die! Die! DIE!" Tayog's screams echoed as he pummeled Slasher, the general's body sinking deeper into the shattered street.
With one final leap, Tayog soared into the air, preparing to deliver a crushing blow to end the fight. "This is for my family and Siklaon!" he roared, plummeting toward Slasher's broken form.
But as he descended, a piercing scream cut through the chaos. A car hurtled through the air, hurtling toward Tayog with Erik trapped inside.
Tayog froze, his fist raised to intercept the projectile. But when he saw Erik, pinned and screaming within the wreckage, he hesitated. "Erik?"
The car slammed into him, sending both crashing across the street in a grinding skid. Silence fell over the battlefield, the three figures—Tayog, Slasher, and Erik—lying motionless in the dust.
Inside a nearby building, the onlookers held their breath, the sudden stillness unnerving. They peered cautiously from their hiding places, unsure if the combatants were dead or alive.
Then, Erik stirred, clutching his head and groaning. "That damn woman nearly killed me, throwing that car," he muttered, brushing himself off. He scanned the scene, spotting Tayog and Slasher lying still. Assuming the fight was over, he dusted off his enchanted attire, admiring its intricate design.
Unbeknownst to him, Tayog rose behind him, his towering figure radiating fury. Erik stretched, oblivious to the looming threat, until a chilling presence made him freeze.
He turned just as Tayog's fist swung forward, sending him crashing through the municipal building's entrance. The onlookers—mostly Spanish civilians—scattered in panic, retreating to their hiding spots like frightened rats.
Erik skidded across the floor, surrounded by terrified Kastila. They eyed him warily, unsure if he was friend or foe. Struggling to his feet, he winced from the pain of Tayog's blow.
"Don't be afraid," Erik called out, his voice strained but resolute. "I'm here to save you."
The crowd hesitated. To them, Erik—a Filipino—was indistinguishable from the rebels seeking their destruction.
"Are you a Spanish soldier?" one civilian demanded.
"No," Erik replied, forcing a smile. "I'm a Filipino hero."
"A hero?" a Kastila spat. "You natives caused this chaos! You're soulless demons!"
Another joined in, venom in his voice. "God should punish you all!"
Erik's patience frayed as the insults rained down. A familiar face—a policeman who had once extorted him—stepped forward, sneering. "You're all the same. We fed you, sheltered you with our money, and now you dare rebel, committing these vile crimes."
"Ungrateful savages," another added. "You defy the law out of arrogance and greed, blaming the government for your misery."
Erik's temper flared. Seizing the policeman by the collar, he lifted him off the ground. "Stop calling us savages!" he roared, his eyes blazing with fury.
The policeman froze, cowed by Erik's intensity. The room fell silent, fear replacing their bravado.
Erik released the man, who crumpled to the floor. Breathing heavily, he addressed the crowd. "You belittle us, trample our dignity because we're different. You blame Filipinos for this chaos but never question why we fight."
He pointed at Tayog, now approaching the building. "That man wants you to feel the pain you've inflicted on us—the humiliation, the loss of rights, the denial of our humanitywarden to live in our own land. You call us slaves in our own country."
His voice cracked with anguish. "Don't you feel ashamed? That man out there fights for justice, for the dignity you've stripped from us. Every day, Filipinos live in fear, treated like less than human. Have you ever considered how it feels to live in misery in your own homeland?"
The crowd was silent, their faces pale. They knew the truth in his words—decades of oppression had sown the seeds of this rebellion.
As Erik spoke, Tayog stepped onto the building's veranda, his presence a storm of dark energy. "Stop wasting your breath on them," he growled. "They'll never see us as equals. They treat us like tools, not people."
He advanced toward Erik, his aura a whirlwind of rage. "Leave this place while you still can. There's no point talking to the damned."
Erik faced him, undaunted. "Maybe they're to blame for this, but I don't believe they all deserve to die for your idea of justice."
Tayog's eyes narrowed. "You'd risk your life for these Kastila? They've oppressed our people!"
"Filipino or Kastila, it doesn't matter," Erik shot back. "They're in my country, my responsibility."
Tayog's fury boiled over. "You betray your own kind! You call yourself a hero but refuse to deliver justice for our fallen!"
Erik's shoulders sagged, the weight of the truth heavy. "I grieve for our people, but vengeance won't bring them back. Killing every Kastila here won't change the past."
"Then what?" Tayog demanded. "If I don't act, this corrupt system will continue to crush our people!"
"It won't!" Erik shouted, his voice echoing. He turned to the Kastila, his resolve unshaken. "We can rebuild the Philippines—a nation where every citizen, Filipino or Kastila, is treated equally. We don't need to fight if we can build a peaceful country together."
He extended a hand to Tayog. "I don't know how yet, but I need your help, Alfredo. Forgive them, for Siklaon. Join me in building a new Philippines."
The room held its breath. Tayog sighed, his eyes softening. "You've always been a good man, Erik. A true friend, like a younger brother. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused."
Erik smiled, hope rising. He believed his words had reached Tayog's heart.
But then, Tayog's fist slammed into Erik's face, sending him crashing into a wall. The crowd gasped, panic reigniting.
Erik, sustained by his own energy, staggered to his knees, stunned. "Alfredo?"
Tayog's eyes burned with unrelenting hatred, his body shrouded in a dark aura. "Your unity is a fantasy. The only payment for their crimes is their lives. I've sacrificed too much for Siklaon's victory to stop now."
He loomed over Erik, his voice cold. "If betraying a friend is the price of justice, so be it. I'll kill you, little friend."
Erik's heart sank, disbelief warring with fear. He had failed again to stop the bloodshed.
"Why does it have to come to this?" he whispered, slamming his fist into the ground. "I failed again."
End of Chapter