A shockwave punch.
Another one!
This marked the third time in just over a month that Tengetsu Ares had encountered a powerful enemy capable of unleashing shockwaves with their bare fists.
As the overwhelming Hakoku from the giant Silka came roaring toward him, Ares's deep amber eyes ignited two flickers of flame seemed to blaze within them, growing fiercer by the second.
Thick veins bulged across his neck like coiled green serpents, snaking across his face and twisting his expression into something monstrous.
He looked like a wrathful war god risen from the depths of hell.
Eyes burning with bloodlust, Ares roared out the name of his move.
"Crimson Armament, Red Dragon's Roar!"
It didn't sound childish in the slightest instead, it carried the terrifying weight of a berserk demon.
Battle-lust surged. With adrenaline pounding through him, Ares's entire body trembled with explosive tension. His bones cracked like dragon roars, his muscles swelled like steel cables beneath his skin.
All his power surged into his blood-red arm.
Then, with fearless momentum, he punched forward directly into Silka's Hakoku.
Boom!!!
The deafening explosion shook the battlefield, ringing through every ear.
Ares was immediately engulfed by a wave of crushing force. Even with his hardened physique, his skin rippled with impact shockwaves, like water disturbed by a stone.
The sensation was a wild combination of pain and exhilaration so intense that it made his nerves twitch with delight.
Blood trickled from the corner of his lips.
Yet he remained unmoved, frozen in that single-armed punch stance, like a statue of war.
Then.
A faint smirk crept across Ares's bloodied mouth.
That single smile sent a shiver through Silka's heart. His pupils shrank instinctively.
"So this… is the power of the Giant Tribe?"
"Still not enough."
Ares muttered, not to provoke, but as a simple truth. Though the blow had indeed wounded him, it hadn't dealt real damage.
Thanks to his monstrous regenerative abilities, even these injuries were negligible barely a scratch in the heat of battle.
His beast-like eyes locked onto Silka, gaze sharp and unforgiving.
"If this is all you've got," he said coldly, "then you've already lost."
He had seen Zephyr's shockwaves. He had seen King Elizabello I's King Punch. Silka's Hakoku simply fell short in comparison.
Among the three, Zephyr's was the most refined and devastating, followed by Elizabello's, with Silka's a distant third.
Still.
This ability to release shockwaves through physical technique was exactly the kind of power Ares longed to master.
His arrogant words and defiant posture made Silka's brow twitch. The giant growled in anger.
"Brat! That was just the beginning!"
"The strength of the Giants is not to be underestimated!"
The pride of the Giant Tribe had been challenged. And as one of their own, Silka would not stand for it.
His eyes gleamed with fury as he vowed silently to put this cocky pirate in his place.
"Hakoku!!!"
He launched the same technique again but this time, fueled by pride, fury, and the weight of his tribe's honor. The blow was far more powerful than the last.
This was a world where emotion was power where raw passion could unleash a warrior's deepest reserves.
Silka's second punch came roaring in like a collapsing mountain, its force far greater than before.
At that same moment, Ares was adjusting his stance, drawing energy from his coiled muscles. Every fiber of his being pulsed with terrifying strength.
His body gleamed under the light, dark-gold muscle fibers bulging like steel beneath his skin.
Then he charged.
Both arms swung wide as he let loose a brutal flurry of strikes.
"Crimson Armament, Dance of a Thousand Dragons!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each punch tore through the air with enough force to rupture steel.
The sheer ferocity of his attacks shattered Silka's Hakoku mid-flight. Shockwaves splintered into turbulent crosswinds that ripped through the beach.
Sand exploded into the sky in golden spirals.
Ares's thick, powerful left leg stepped forward with a stomp that cracked the earth.
Red-hued fist shadows followed his movement like a tide.
Boom!
His right leg drove forward again two strides bringing him three meters closer in an instant.
Silka's eyes widened in disbelief.
Why is this guy's body and strength so damn monstrous?!
He gritted his teeth and pulled both arms back into a stance.
Then he too unleashed a barrage of punches.
At that moment.
Technique was abandoned.
All that remained was raw, primal power.
Their fists collided again and again.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The heavy thud of flesh smashing against flesh echoed like thunder across the beach.
Both men had discarded their footwork. This was no longer a martial contest.
This was a test of fists and nothing else.
"This is the stuff!!"
"This is what I LIVE for!!!"
Ares's face was streaked with blood. It flowed faster now, gushing from his mouth and nose.
But he didn't care.
His eyes burned with wild light, a maddening brilliance that could shake even the hardest heart.
With each brutal punch, waves of force surged through his body, rattling every bone, every muscle.
And in that pain… there was something else.
Stimulation.
Pleasure.
He didn't know what a "muscle massage gun" felt like, but right now, it seemed like he was being worked over by a master craftsman equal parts agony and ecstasy.
It hurt.
But he was loving it.
This paradox of pain and bliss was intoxicating.
Maybe it was years of inhuman training that had rewired his nerves. Or maybe Ares had simply become a creature that fed on pain.
Whatever the reason this kind of pain was his high.
But for Silka…
There was no pleasure in it.
Only agony.
Every clash brought more pain, each impact more unbearable than the last.
Ares's blows were stronger. More relentless. And worst of all those glowing eyes…
Those terrifying eyes that stared into his soul with each punch.
They unnerved him.
With every strike. Every glance. That fear grew.
His mental defenses began to crack.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
...
A giant over twelve meters tall.
And a four-meter-tall "little giant."
The difference in size meant nothing in this battle.
It was Silka the true giant who was getting overwhelmed.
BOOM!
Ares slammed a powerful punch straight into Silka's gut, sinking the giant's abdominal muscles like a collapsing wall.
He broke through Silka's defenses and followed up with a second punch.
Then a third.
Boom!
Boom!
Savage, merciless fists pummeled the giant's torso. His entire abdomen and chest caved inward. Ribs cracked. Organs churned.
If not for the Giants' legendary durability, Silka's insides would've been pulp.
But in this world the stronger you are, the harder you are to kill.
Still, after taking those blows, Silka stumbled backward again and again.
His massive feet pounded against the beach, sand spraying up around him.
The kicked-up dust obscured the fight, hiding the violence from the eyes of the more passive pirates in the background.
In every pirate crew, there were always a few who "coasted." That was nothing new.
Life only gave you one shot, and if you died it was over. So not everyone rushed to the front lines.
Some stood back, cheering and posing with weapons for show.
But from within the cloud of sand and chaos.
A thunderous shout rang out.
"HAAAH!!!"
It was Ares.
Still fighting.
Still hungry.
Still unbreakable.
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