Striking.
Throwing.
Wrenching.
Bending.
These four classifications form the basis of combat. From ancient times to the present, this classification has remained unchanged throughout the evolution of martial arts.
In fact, these four categories are even applicable not just on Earth but also in Geladridion.
Among them, Aslan specialized particularly in throwing, wrenching, and bending. Striking was not Aslan’s forte; he could manage it only with the help of an extremely refined martial art.
Since Aslan’s fighting style fundamentally revolved around killing enemies with weapons, striking was merely a supplementary tool.
To that extent, Aslan realized something: the martial art of this young man, Richard, took a different path to extremity compared to his own.
Bang!
Richard’s bent fist is blocked by an arm. An impact that would have shattered bones under normal circumstances, yet Richard gritted his teeth and endured it.
The heavily glowing red mana tattoo. Despite being deceived by foresight, Aslan recognized its similarity to the one used by Frida.
A tattoo that significantly enhances overall coordination, providing meaningful increases in strength, agility, and health. Likely, similar tattoos extended beneath Richard’s clothes, reaching down to his ankles.
“Could he know my sister?”
It was possible. Considering how Frida especially disliked the Duke of Helsing and reacted when Richard was mentioned.
However, this wasn’t the immediate issue at hand. What mattered now was the realization that Richard’s skill surpassed imagination, and subduing him through damage alone wouldn’t be easy thanks to the mana tattoos.
“Hiss!”
In foresight, Richard suppresses his breath, twists his body, and swings his fist horizontally—a backhand strike. Aslan barely raises his arm to intercept the trajectory.
Following up with another strike, Aslan defends and counters. His goal was clear: overpowering through swift counterattacks and superior attacking power.
But Richard seemed to read his move and approached.
Reversing his swinging fist, Richard grabbed Aslan’s wrist.
Before Aslan could react to the sensation of his wrist being grabbed, his center of gravity was disrupted. Richard had caught his wrist and swung him around.
Considering Aslan’s height—191cm—and his specialization in throwing techniques, this was no ordinary feat.
A mastery of martial arts that few could replicate—an extraordinary skill that defies common sense by using only one’s own momentum and the opponent’s force to throw them.
For a moment, Aslan furrowed his brow at this technique, which, though impressive, was nothing more than a basic fundamental.
To confirm this, Aslan moved his eyes even as the world flipped upside down around him.
Even within foresight, there was still clarity, a sense of presence despite knowing it could be reversed at any time. This was the advantage of foresight.
Through the experience of situations otherwise impossible to encounter, foresight allowed for more accurate predictions, enabling precise actions when the actual situation arose.
Though easily mistaken due to its name and previous experiences, foresight’s effect in games was quite simple: granting adjustments in all scenarios, even those never previously encountered.
If so, Aslan decided to use the current situation. He maintained his foresight to gain certainty.
As the world flipped and the ground rushed toward his head, Aslan twisted Richard’s hand gripping his wrist.
By the time Richard reacted, it was already too late. Aslan flipped his body while holding Richard’s wrist.
Thud!
Landing after throwing Richard, Aslan immediately charged forward.
Crack!
First, a quick punch. Richard avoided it by tilting his body.
An elbow strike followed. Blocked by Aslan’s forearm.
Snap!
The instant the elbow was blocked, Aslan retaliated with an uppercut aimed at the jaw. Cross-blocking with his arms, Aslan attempted to push Richard away but…
Pah!
Richard pushed against Aslan’s leg with his toes and countered with a headbutt. Just before impact, Aslan slightly tilted his head and reciprocated with his own headbutt. Crack! Richard’s nose crumpled, and a sound of pain emerged.
The veteran disciple stumbled back. Aslan didn’t give him space, extending his hand to grab the collar and pulling while swinging his elbow.
Creak!
“Ugh…”
Elbow striking Richard’s temple. The staggering Richard. A powerful blow landing precisely on the temple made Richard’s eyes roll back.
To finish it off, Aslan chose a spinning kick. Pushing away the collar he held, he stepped back half a step and delivered a spinning kick. Standing at 191cm, Aslan’s kick was akin to a weapon in itself.
Unavoidable and unblockable. Blocking it would mean getting caught in a joint lock. Dodging would invite a sidekick. With this plan in mind, Aslan moved—but…
Richard’s response exceeded Aslan’s expectations.
Richard neither dodged nor blocked.
He simply stood swaying, stretching out his arm to meet the kick. Contrary to Aslan’s expectation that the arm would break, Richard’s arm in the foresight did not fracture.
Like clouds rippling finely on the water’s surface, Aslan’s high kick flowed along Richard’s extended arm.
As if Richard wasn’t even there.
‘So, it seems.’
Richard was said to be I’taar’s disciple. A master of combat and the weakest among masters, yet possessing the highest tanking capability in the game.
This unique skill of I’taar’s was none other than the proportional nullification of damage based on martial arts prowess.
While the skill in the game merely eliminated damage, it had evolved into an unreal ability to deflect attacks. Though surprising, Aslan didn’t halt the fight.
He needed more confirmation.
The moment the deflected leg touched the ground, Aslan twisted his body and delivered a sidekick. The high kick carried enough force to shatter bones and crush flesh.
Aslan’s martial art, honed over countless battles, combined with his mastery of the art of impermanence, was lethal enough to kill humans.
Before the sidekick could break ribs and collapse the chest cavity, Richard stretched out his arm.
Using the outer edge of his bent arm, Richard absorbed the kick and let it slide off as his body tilted, dispersing the force without a single sound of collision.
Sliding the kicked leg between his side and arm, Richard raised his fist, aiming for Aslan’s face.
‘Summon.’
Aslan reversed the scene before the fist could reach his face.
The world spun. Colors drained and surged as the world rewound.
Like rewinding a video, Richard and Aslan retreated backward. Aslan silently observed until the world turned colorless again, then gripped the hilt of his sword.
When he did, Richard frowned, but it didn’t matter since it was within foresight. Aslan charged forward.
Gripping the hilt while rushing, he pulled the scabbard with his other hand, withdrawing the blade solely by moving his waist. It was as if the sword passed straight through the scabbard.
With that withdrawal came a single slash. The mid-level horizontal cut lacked malice.
“Ugh!”
Yet the speed and power weren’t diminished. The blade, capable of slicing a human in half, left a ghostly gray trail as it split the air.
Richard stepped back to evade the unavoidable attack. Aslan lunged toward the retreating Richard and thrust his sword.
A non-lethal thrust. Aiming for Richard’s abdomen, Richard easily sidestepped and grabbed the hilt.
Then Richard trapped Aslan’s arm under his armpit and raised his fist, presumably to deliver a blow.
Creak!
“Grr…”
The flat of Aslan’s hand struck Richard’s neck, causing him to clutch his throat and stagger.
Though the sword was still trapped under his armpit, retrieving it would be simple. Aslan grabbed Richard’s wrist and pulled while striking his face with the other hand.
Clang!
Richard stumbled back, dropping the sword, his face contorted with confusion and surprise. Aslan gripped the hilt with both hands.
And with a white breath swirling, he swung the sword downward.
A diagonal slash. It missed as Richard unconsciously deflected it with his arm.
As the blade slid away to the opposite side, Aslan advanced and continuously swung his sword.
An upward slash, a horizontal slash, a thrust, a diagonal slash, a vertical slash.
Repeatedly leaving gray trails, the relentless sword strikes were parried, deflected, and blocked by Richard, who was now sweating profusely.
All the clumsy slashes devoid of malice were blocked.
Instead, Richard seemed to be closing the distance, perhaps contemplating a counterattack.
Watching this, Aslan finally confirmed it: Richard was at the level of a combat master and couldn’t be subdued unless killed.
Blocking the vertical slash with his fist and raising it, Richard watched as Aslan pulled the rebounding blade close to his side.
Crack!
And he slashed. A genuine swing filled with deep malice. The blade severed Richard’s wrists and decapitated him, blood spurting out and splashing Aslan’s face.
Slowly opening his eyes as the foresight faded and the world regained its colors, Aslan watched Richard instinctively rub his own neck at the thought that Aslan had just beheaded him moments ago.
A testament to his innate intuition. Realizing Richard also had good luck, Aslan subtly released the hilt of his sword.
Richard looked at Aslan uneasily and asked,
“You… what are you? I thought you were just some random guy…”
Aslan didn’t answer.
He merely softly called out,
“Angie.”
“Huh? Uh, what?”
Like a puppy called by its name, Angie excitedly approached. Aslan quietly gazed at the girl and smiled gently.
“Angie, can you fight in my place?”
“Huh? Me?”
Despite Aslan’s gentle smile, Angie hesitated in her reply.
“I don’t even have myself together…”
“I don’t like hitting girls either. How about we bring out that big guy over there instead?”
Pointing at Tiamat, Richard received a dismissive snort from Tiamat, while Angie looked puzzled.
“What are you talking about? You’re scared I might kill you.”
Richard’s face momentarily contorted in confusion before turning into a sneer.
“Pfft, sure. Don’t puff yourself up and just back off. It’s not that you can’t, it’s just that you don’t want to.”
His openly belittling tone was understandable given Angie’s appearance.
There was nothing about Angie that suggested strength.
But that was just outward appearances. Among their traveling party, no one could match Angie in pure power.
Moreover, given Angie’s impetuous nature and dislike of being underestimated, there was only one possible reaction to such provocation.
“You son of a bitch…?”
With a grinding sound of teeth, the girl stepped forward, clenching her fists and approaching Richard.
Watching this silently, Ereta approached from the side and spoke.
“Aslan, will this be alright? If she…”
Her words trailed off, but Aslan understood her concern.
She was worried that the young noble they were supposed to take back might end up with his head crushed.
But there was no need for such worry.
Looking at Angie standing in front of Richard, clenching her fists tightly, Aslan believed this was the best course of action.
While Aslan had no way to subdue Richard without killing him, Angie had a way to subdue him without killing.
Richard was looking down at the girl who barely reached his chest, smirking as if amused by her defiance.
“Hey.”
A growling voice. Richard stared down at the girl glaring up at him, clenching her fists.
“Don’t regret this.”
“What’s there to regret? If anything, that’s my line…”
As Richard chuckled and crossed his arms, the girl pulled her fist back.
And launched an unrestrained punch.
Realizing that this girl’s punch emitted a sonic boom, Richard’s expression hardened as he belatedly extended his arm.
Attempting to use an incomplete technique taught by I’taar, Richard planned to deflect the punch, create distance, or subdue the girl with a strike. However, things didn’t go as planned.
The moment he intercepted the punch, Richard’s body was violently thrown backward.
Flying through the ground, Richard collided with a large tree without attempting to break his fall.
Crash!
Breaking the tree upon impact, he fell to the ground.
As the entire forest echoed with a faint groan following Angie’s punch, she smirked and commented,
“Hmph, what a waste of food.”
The girl wore an expression of utmost satisfaction.
