The courtyard of the forge breathed only dust and destruction, swallowed by a silence that followed the escape of the last slaves through the narrow alleys between the buildings.
A haze of soot and debris swirled slowly, illuminated by the hellish orange glow of the furnaces that still spat heat into the ruined surroundings.
At the center of this desolate scene stood two towering figures facing each other, separated only by a trench of shattered stone.
On one side was General Vanki, a mountain of blind rage.
On the other stood Arthur, unshakable, his thick arms hanging loosely at his sides, his gray skin shining under the firelight like polished granite.
Vanki exhaled a blast of hot air, then spun his colossal war axe in his right hand, the weight of the metal humming through the air.
Vanki roared, his voice echoing off the twisted iron walls of the forge.
The giant advanced.
Every step of his armored boots made the ground tremble. Vanki raised the axe and brought the blade down in a devastating diagonal arc, designed to slice through Arthur's torso from shoulder to hip.
The gray giant bent his knees slightly and raised his left forearm, allowing a thick, green aura to condense around his flesh, dense as mist rising from cold earth.
The impact created a sonic boom that shattered the remaining windows on the upper floor.
The massive blade of the axe crashed against Arthur's forearm, but it did not cut.
The overwhelming kinetic force pushed Arthur backward, his soles tearing through the stone ground and carving two long trenches of rubble, yet he held his ground.
Not a single drop of blood was spilled.
Vanki pressed the blade harder against Arthur's arm, the muscles in his own arm trembling with effort.
Arthur planted his right foot firmly on the ground, his fingers clenched so tightly his knuckles turned pale.
He twisted his torso suddenly, shifting all his body weight and the energy from his legs into his arm, and threw a punch with dry, direct force.
His fist struck the side of Vanki's shoulder squarely.
The impact forced the general to take half a step back, feeling a sharp heat spread through the muscle. The handle of the axe wavered for a moment, and the pressure he exerted eased slightly.
Vanki ground his teeth.
Advancing once more, he unleashed a rapid, relentless sequence of attacks. Blows came crashing down from above with crushing force, then swept sideways like blades of wind, crossing in tight motions that left no openings.
Every swing made the air whistle sharply, and the weight of the axe vibrated through the ground with each dodge, raising fine clouds of stone dust.
Arthur had to move with every ounce of agility he possessed. He ducked low to avoid a strike that would have split his skull, spun on his left foot to evade a horizontal cut, and raised his forearm to block the cross attack.
The impact made his own teeth rattle, and a chill ran from his arm all the way up to his shoulder.
Slowly, the general loosened his grip on the weapon and took a step back, dragging the blade of the axe across the stone floor.
The sharp, metallic sound seemed to tear through the air, leaving a deep, dark groove in the rock.
Then a monstrous, gurgling laugh, as if rising from ancient blood, began to rumble from Vanki's chest.
It echoed through every corner of the blighted forge, deep and carrying a cruelty that felt centuries old.
"Well, well… I am still surprised you can keep this mask of yours intact, Arthur," Vanki growled, a repulsive, malicious grin spreading slowly across his scarred face.
He rested the axe handle on his broad shoulder as if the weapon weighed no more than a twig, and leaned forward.
"How much longer do you think it will last, hmm?"
Arthur cast a quick, calculating glance behind him, scanning every corner of the room and the surrounding shadows, making sure there were no hidden listeners or prying eyes.
Only when he was absolutely certain they were completely alone did he turn back to face Vanki, his expression hard and unwavering.
"My plans are none of your concern, Vanki."
"None of my concern?!"
He shouted with such brutal force that the stone walls shook under the impact of his voice. The sound reverberated like trapped thunder, and outside, small birds perched on nearby houses dropped to the ground, killed instantly by the intensity of his roar.
Vanki took another step forward, his entire body tensed, veins bulging in his neck and rage burning bright in his eyes.
"I am not here to listen to your evasions! I only want to see with my own eyes how you intend to carry out this plan of yours to kill that man."
"The Silver One…"
Just speaking that name made a wave of disgust and revulsion rise sharply in Arthur's stomach, as if he had swallowed something rotten and poisonous.
His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles trembling, and his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his face stood out.
The air around him seemed to grow heavier, charged with all the pain and anger he had accumulated.
"It is a pity," Arthur replied, his voice low, cold, and sharp as a well-honed blade.
"That you will be dead long before I get to him. The Silver One will pay, without a doubt, for every mistake, every suffering, and every life he has destroyed."
"And know this: my plan is already in motion, following every step as it was laid out, and moving toward perfection."
"Nothing, not you, nor anyone else, will be able to stop it."
"That man will pay, even if I have to make a deal with the devil himself."
Vanki charged forward heavily, gripping the axe handle firmly with both hands, the muscles in his arms and back straining until they looked ready to burst beneath his scarred skin.
He lifted the weapon high above his head, the blade gleaming with a cold, menacing reflection, ready to deliver a single, final blow that would tear Arthur's head from his shoulders.
But Arthur did not wait for the impact.
In a swift, calculated motion, he dropped his body as low as possible and slid right beneath the general's open legs, as if the ground itself made way for him.
As he passed, he reached out and grabbed the back of Vanki's calf, pulling with all the strength he could muster.
The general's own weight and the momentum of his advance worked against him. His legs locked up, his balance broke, and he dropped to his knees with a heavy thud that shook the earth.
Without losing a single second, Arthur used his own momentum to push himself up in a short, powerful leap, and delivered a sharp, heavy kick right into the center of the general's broad, rigid back.
The impact was like a boulder crashing against a wall. Vanki was hurled forward, rolling and slamming into a massive pile of scrap iron, twisted steel plates, and metal parts that had accumulated over the years in the forge.
But Arthur gave him no time to catch his breath or recover. The awareness that he had to eliminate this threat drove him forward without mercy.
With a single step ahead, so powerful that the ground beneath his feet cracked and sank, destroying everything around it, he advanced once more.
The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with rage and energy, and he let out a hoarse cry that cut through the noise of destruction.
He raised his clenched fist, wrapped in the innate power of his race and training, and unleashed a brutal, direct punch straight into Vanki's face.
The sound of the impact was dry, muffled, and terrible.
The general's body was thrown backward with such force that it tore through layer after layer of iron and steel plating forming the forge's structure, opening a huge, jagged hole, and only coming to a halt outside, amid the rubble and already devastated terrain.
Vanki managed to stop his fall by driving the axe blade deep into the hard ground, which held for only a moment before cracking around it.
But before he could even straighten his body or wipe the blood streaming down his forehead, he realized Arthur was already rushing toward him, crossing the hole in the wall with frightening speed.
In a sudden, almost supernatural movement, Vanki twisted his body with an agility that seemed impossible for his size and weight, and hurled the axe straight at his opponent.
The weapon sliced through the air like a bolt of metal, and Arthur was forced to throw himself sideways, dodging by no more than an inch, just enough to avoid being cut in half, but so close he could see his own distorted, shadowed reflection on the polished surface of the blade, as if time had slowed down, stretching every second into an eternity.
But that sense of slow motion vanished instantly.
When Arthur raised his eyes and tried to reorient himself, it was already too late.
Vanki's enormous silhouette was right behind him.
The axe, driven by a force that defied distance, shot back inside the forge, tearing open another even larger opening, and at the same moment, the general's thick, hard hand closed around Arthur's neck.
The sound that followed was terrifying, the crunch of compressed bones mixed with the strange, wet sound of rapid regeneration, which tried to repair the damage almost the moment it was inflicted. It was a noise of crushing and healing happening at once, making the air feel heavier and harder to breathe.
Without releasing his grip, Vanki lifted Arthur off the ground, leaving him dangling in the air, his feet swinging more than a meter above the surface.
The muscles in the general's arm and shoulder tensed to their limit, and he gathered all the strength he had built through years of battle and forging, only to slam Arthur's body down hard against the courtyard ground, an area that, until just moments before, had begun to show signs of repair, with even ground and a more welcoming appearance.
The force of the impact was overwhelming.
The spot where Arthur struck sank immediately, and a thick, towering cloud of dust and smoke rose so high and wide it far surpassed the height of the forge itself.
A violent gust of wind, mixed with stone shards and earth, swept across everything around, accompanied by a tremor that ran through the ground like an earthquake and a chaotic roar that seemed to tear the sky apart.
Most of the houses that had been rebuilt and restored nearby were reduced to rubble: walls shattered, roofs torn off, and wood twisted, leaving little more than wreckage where homes once stood.
Inside, the structure of East Forge swayed violently. Support columns cracked from top to bottom, beams came loose, and the entire building seemed to lean, groaning like a wounded creature, threatening to collapse completely over what remained of the floor.
Within the thick, gray curtain of smoke and dust, Vanki remained motionless, still gripping Arthur's neck tightly in his massive hand, pressing him against the bottom of the crater he had just created.
The air there was heavy and difficult to breathe, and only shadows and the faint glow of lingering energy could be seen.
"If this is how you intend to kill the strongest man in the universe, boy…" Vanki's voice came out deep and muffled, dripping with scorn and arrogant confidence.
He leaned forward, bringing his scarred face within inches of Arthur's, as if wanting to engrave every word into his mind.
"You will never even get close…"
But before he could finish the sentence, Arthur's elbow shot upward with a speed and force that seemed to warp the space around them.
It moved like an unstoppable missile, cutting through the smoke and striking Vanki squarely in the nose and jaw.
The impact was so violent it created a visible shockwave, a pressure that swept the entire cloud of dust and smoke outward in an instant, scattering it like a torn curtain.
Vanki was thrown backward, his feet dragging deep furrows in the ground, until he stopped several meters away, staggering and spitting blood and broken teeth.
With the smoke no longer hiding the destruction, the full extent of what they had done became clear. A massive crater had opened in the earth, as wide as a town square and so deep it seemed to reach the hardest layers of the ground, its uneven walls crisscrossed with cracks spreading out in every direction.
At the bottom of that hole, Arthur rested both hands pressed into the damp, compacted earth.
When he slowly lifted his head, the sight was horrifying. His face was completely disfigured.
His jaw hung loose, attached only by thin strands of flesh and tissue, his teeth broken and scattered inside his mouth, his nose crushed and twisted to one side, with thick streams of blood running down his chin and neck.
But the wound did not stay that way for long.
In a matter of seconds, no more than the blink of an eye, an instant too brief to measure, muscles, bones, and skin shifted almost imperceptibly, fitting back together, solidifying, and restoring themselves until no trace of the damage remained. Arthur's face returned to its perfect state, without a single mark, as if nothing had happened.
He placed one foot, then the other, rising from the bottom of the crater with a calmness that contrasted sharply with the chaos around him.
Once standing, he tilted his head from side to side, and the crisp, clear sound of his vertebrae settling into place echoed through the open space.
"Do not think you can defeat me with brute strength alone, Vanki," he said, his voice steady and showing no sign of pain or exhaustion.
He began to walk toward the general, his steps slow but heavy, making the ground tremble slightly with every stride.
"My regenerative ability was already rare and exceptional, even among my own kind. It will not be you, with all your strength, who can inflict pain I cannot endure or heal."
On the other side, Vanki managed to steady his legs, wiped the blood from his mouth, and let out a rough laugh that grew louder until it became a cold, disdainful cackle.
"If your race was wiped from the face of the universe and driven to extinction centuries ago… that means no matter what advantages you possess, in the end, you still die."
He straightened his posture, his eyes burning with a rage that grew with every passing second.
"So I just have to hit you harder, and harder still, until even your regeneration cannot keep up with the rate of destruction!"
This time, it was Arthur who initiated the attack.
With an explosion of speed that carried him across the distance in the blink of an eye, he seemed to vanish from sight.
His fighting style was focused entirely on close-quarters combat: direct, aggressive, and pure physical power, with no unnecessary movements.
Vanki raised his thick, sturdy forearms, crossing them in front of his chest to form a barrier of living steel, certain nothing could break through that defense.
But when Arthur's fist connected, the sound was not just that of impact, it was a sharp, deep crack, like thick hardwood snapping under pressure.
Vanki's right forearm bent at an angle it should never have been able to, the bones crushed and shattered inside, even with all his natural resistance.
*What the hell just happened?!* Vanki's mind screamed, confused and stunned.
*Impossible! My bones are harder than the steel of this forge, no ordinary force should be able to break them!*
He stared at his opponent, realizing that this punch was not just raw strength. There was a technique here, a way of channeling energy he had never encountered in all his years of battle.
Then Arthur parted his lips slightly and whispered in a low, firm, and purposeful voice, while his eyes turned completely green, shining with intense, vivid light.
"Morokian Technique: Bone Breaker."
Immediately, his fists became wrapped in layers of thick, vibrant green energy, flowing like liquid or the body of a serpent coiling around his arms.
Arthur advanced again, moving with an agility that seemed mismatched with the power of his strikes, and unleashed a nonstop sequence of attacks: punches, elbow blows, palm strikes, and chops, all guided by that special energy.
Every connection caused deep damage. Even when Vanki tried to defend, raising his arms or turning his body to dodge, the blows always found a path, and the result was always the same, bones shattering like thick glass.
One strike hit his shoulder and broke his collarbone; another struck his ribs, shattering several and pressing them against his internal organs; precise kicks landed on his legs, fracturing femurs and shins.
Vanki felt his body being torn apart little by little, as if being crushed from within by a pressure he could not block.
But the pride and fury of a general who had never known defeat would not let him fall so easily.
In a burst of blind rage, Vanki roared at the top of his lungs, and at the same time released all the energy he had stored within him.
An immense aura of fiery orange exploded outward, expanding like a wave of heat and power that scorched the air and made the ground crack even wider.
That energy hit Arthur head-on, shoving him backward with such force that he was thrown dozens of meters away, sliding and leaving deep gouges in the earth, forced to dig his hands and feet into the ground with all his strength just to avoid being carried even farther.
Vanki's orange aura continued to swell, rising into a towering vertical column of light that climbed without stopping, piercing through layer after layer of thick, dark clouds, opening a clear, wide hole in the sky as if it had punched through the very edge of the firmament.
The power he unleashed was immeasurable, making the air vibrate, stones float briefly, and the entire surrounding area hum as if on the verge of disintegration.
The aura surrounding Vanki spread like a flood of living fire, so hot and dense it seemed to have weight of its own.
The heat was intense enough to warp the air, making everything around it ripple under its pressure.
When the waves of energy reached Arthur, he felt his skin burn instantly. The outer layers reddened, then charred, peeling away in strips to leave raw, exposed flesh.
But the wounds had barely formed before they began to close. Cells regenerated at a speed almost too fast to follow, new skin growing beneath the burned layer and replacing it before the pain could become unbearable.
It was an endless cycle: burn, heal, burn again, and Arthur remained standing, enduring that searing heat only through the strength of his constitution and his will.
Farther away, several kilometers distant, a crowd of inhabitants ran desperately over uneven paths and rough terrain.
They had already covered a great distance without stopping, their feet sore, their breathing ragged, and their bodies heavy with exhaustion.
Many stumbled but were helped up by others who also struggled to keep moving. No one wanted to look back, knowing destruction and danger were drawing ever closer.
Had it not been for the nourishing rations and rest arranged over the past few days, none of them would have held on for so long. Their bodies would simply have given out from the effort, and many would have collapsed along the way, too drained to continue.
Bringing up the rear, keeping watch and acting as a protective guard, walked Suki and Laura.
The tension between them was palpable, thick with worry and suppressed anger.
"HE DID WHAT?!" Laura shouted, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd, her eyes wide with disbelief and fear.
"DAMN IT, Laura, this is the third time I have said it!" Suki replied, raising his own tone, exasperated and with a tight knot in his throat. "He insisted on fighting Vanki alone! Said it was his business, that we must not interfere, and there was no way to talk him out of it!"
"And you just let him go? Left him to face that monster by himself, to die if things go wrong?!" she demanded, her voice cracking, her hands clenched tight with anger and anxiety.
"No," Suki answered suddenly, his tone deep, steady, and so serious it made Laura fall silent at once. There was no hesitation there, only unshakable conviction.
"Do not speak that way. Arthur is the strongest among us, the one who can endure the most, who can withstand anything. He will survive, no matter how great the threat or what happens in this fight."
"I believe that."
Laura let out a long, heavy sigh, surrendering for a moment to the weight of her emotions, pressing a hand over her chest.
"And besides…" Suki continued, and a cold shiver ran through his whole body just remembering the look he had seen on his friend's face before he left. "In all the time we have traveled together, fought side by side, and faced so much… I have never seen Arthur with such a closed, determined expression."
He paused for a moment, glanced toward the distant horizon, and finished.
"I promised I would return once we found a safe place for everyone."
But his words were cut off abruptly and violently.
A wave of intense, unfamiliar, and overwhelming energy swept through the air, making hair stand on end and skin prickle. It was not Arthur's power, which they knew well, but something different, heavier, wilder, and far more destructive.
In that same instant, the sky, once cloudy and dark, began to change color. A bright, orange hue spread across it, so vivid it looked as if the sun had exploded and spilled its light across the entire firmament, creating an endless, threatening sunset.
And far off in the distance, where shapes could no longer be distinguished and East Forge lay hidden behind the haze, a massive column of light and power rose up. An orange pillar, wide as a mountain, climbed upward without end, piercing through every layer of clouds and stabbing the sky like a divine spear. Its glow was so strong it lit up the land for kilometers around.
"SUKI!!" Laura screamed, panic clear in her voice, pointing toward that terrifying sight.
Suki stood frozen, his eyes locked on that display of monstrous strength. He did not need to see more to understand: the situation had spiraled out of control, and his friend was facing something far greater than they had ever imagined.
Staring at that light that seemed to consume the sky itself, only one thought repeated in his mind like a silent prayer.
*Hold on, my friend. Do not fall now.*
With a quick, decisive motion, he clenched his fists, feeling the energy of the wind and freedom answer his call.
"Wind Transformation!"
At once, currents of air swirled around him, forming a vortex that wrapped him in a translucent, glowing mantle.
Bright white, luminous stripes began to appear across his entire body, running along his arms, legs, torso, and face like veins of condensed air, shining with a soft yet intense light.
His body became lighter, almost weightless, and his feet lifted completely off the ground.
With an explosive burst that made the wind howl around him, he shot upward, cutting through the air like an unstoppable arrow, leaving behind only a trail of light and swirling air.
He soared past the clouds, outpaced the speed of sound, and turned back toward the battle, knowing he might already be too late, but refusing to let Arthur face that danger completely alone.