Henry pulled himself together, pushing himself up with a deep, ragged breath. Blood seeped from the deep wound in his side, but his determination burned hotter than ever. His King's Presence, though flickering for a moment, began surging back with renewed force. The sheer willpower emanating from him was undeniable.
Stallion scowled, his glowing eyes narrowing.
"After that deep wound, and still, you won't give in?" he growled, anger lacing his voice.
His patience had thinned. With a wild burst of speed, he lunged toward Henry, scimitar slashing with deadly precision.
Henry focused. His instincts sharpened as he evaded the first slash, tilting his body just enough for the blade to miss his shoulder by mere inches. Another swipe followed, but Henry ducked low, feeling the rush of air as the weapon sliced above him. Stallion pressed harder, his attacks becoming more erratic and vicious, yet Henry's movements remained fluid, sidestepping and weaving between each deadly strike.
Then came an opening.
Stallion swung wide in a horizontal arc, expecting to catch Henry off guard. Instead, Henry shifted his weight and narrowly ducked under the gleaming blade, his senses guiding him. With all his strength, he twisted his body and launched a devastating right hook aimed straight at Stallion's exposed ribs.
The impact was brutal. A sickening crunch echoed in the arena as Henry's fist connected, forcing Stallion to stagger back for the first time. A stunned silence filled the place. The force behind that blow had been immense, far beyond what anyone had expected.
Henry steadied himself, exhaling sharply before straightening into his stance. He met Stallion's gaze and, in a calm yet unwavering tone, asked, "I know Stallion is just an epithet. What is your real name?"
Stallion wiped the corner of his mouth, where a thin trickle of blood formed. Instead of answering, he smirked. His eyes burned with renewed fury. Without hesitation, he lunged once more, his scimitar thrusting forward like a piercing fang.
Henry braced himself, ready for another clash.
Henry and Stallion stood across from each other, their intense gazes locked in a deadly battle of willpower. The air between them vibrated with raw energy as their King's Presence clashed, creating visible distortions in the arena. Henry, despite the pain from his wound, clenched his fists tightly, determined to push through the agony.
Stallion grinned, twirling his scimitar in his hand. "Impressive," he mocked, his voice carrying both irritation and admiration. "But it won't matter in the end."
Without hesitation, Stallion lunged, his scimitar slashing down in a fierce arc. Henry barely dodged, feeling the blade carve through the air just inches from his face. He countered with a swift uppercut, but Stallion twisted his torso mid-air, evading the strike with inhuman reflexes. As he landed, he seamlessly transitioned into a spinning back kick, slamming his heel into Henry's ribs with crushing force, sending him crashing backward onto the ground.
Henry coughed but quickly regained his footing, his King's Presence surging once more. "You're fast, but I'm not done yet!" he growled, rushing forward with renewed vigor. His fists became blurs of motion as he threw a flurry of punches at Stallion.
Stallion smirked, expertly dodging each strike. "You're still too slow—"
Before he could finish, Henry feinted a right hook, forcing Stallion to dodge left—right into a devastating left-handed haymaker. The punch connected squarely with Stallion's jaw, sending him staggering back. Blood dripped from his mouth as his head snapped to the side.
The few audience gasped. It was the first time anyone had managed to land such a direct and brutal hit on him.
Stallion growled, his lavender eyes glowing with rage. He swung his scimitar wildly, attempting to cleave through Henry. But Henry, now adapting to his opponent's movements, weaved through the strikes with precision. Seeing an opening, Henry stepped in, driving his knee hard into Stallion's gut.
Stallion gagged, his body recoiling from the impact. Henry followed up with a crushing hammer fist to his back, slamming him to the ground. The force of the attack sent cracks splintering across the arena floor. Stallion coughed violently, blood splattering against the dirt.
For the first time, Stallion looked up at Henry with something that resembled disbelief.
Henry cracked his knuckles. "You're not invincible after all."
Stallion, bruised and bleeding, wiped the blood from his mouth and let out a dark chuckle. "Tch…".
Henry clenched his fists tighter. "Then stop holding back and fight me seriously."
Henry barely had time to catch his breath when Stallion wiped the blood from his mouth and sneered. "You would hope you didn't wish for that!" he snarled before leaping forward with ferocious speed.
Stallion's attacks were relentless now—his scimitar a blur of deadly arcs, each swing carrying a lethal intent. His King's Presence erupted wildly around him, shaking the very ground beneath them. Henry was forced into full defense, parrying desperately as sparks flew from each impact between his gauntlets and Stallion's blade. His muscles burned with strain as he dodged and blocked, but each attempt to counter was met with nothing but air—Stallion was too fast, too precise.
With a sudden burst of power, Stallion leaped back, landing with perfect balance. His aura, once wildly raging, condensed and funneled directly into his scimitar. The very air around the blade seemed to distort, vibrating under the pressure of his focused energy.
The few remaining crowd went silent, stunned by the sheer force of what was happening. Even the Grimknights, stared in awe. Henry narrowed his eyes, sweat dripping down his brow. He could feel it—this was different. Stallion was preparing something devastating.
Then, in an instant, Stallion dashed forward, moving so fast he was nearly invisible. His feet barely touched the ground as he lunged into a leap, both hands gripping the hilt of his scimitar. The blade gleamed with raw power as he swung downward with all his might, aiming to cleave Henry in two.
For a split second, Henry hesitated, uncertainty gripping him. But instinct took over. With a roar, he pulled his fist back, pouring every ounce of his strength and will into it. His King's Presence exploded outward, forming a raging aura around him. He didn't have a plan—only the certainty that he had to meet this attack head-on.
With a thunderous roar, he swung.
As the scimitar and Henry's gauntlet closed in on each other, the entire arena seemed to freeze in time. Then—
BOOM!
A deafening shockwave tore through the battlefield, sending debris flying in all directions. But something was strange—their weapons had not actually connected. An invisible force clashed between them, a pure collision of power, warping the air like a barrier of raw energy.
Kaiser, watching from the sidelines, could only stare in disbelief. His eyes were wide with amazement, admiration clear on his face. "Unbelievable… Henry's actually standing against that…" he muttered under his breath, almost unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.
The air between them crackled as Henry and Stallion clashed with overwhelming force. Their King's Presence collided in an invisible battle of willpower, creating shockwaves that sent dust and debris flying.
Slowly, Henry felt his gauntlet being pushed downward, his strength waning under the sheer might of Stallion's focused attack. Stallion's scimitar pressed forward, the glowing blade humming with condensed energy. Henry gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body straining to resist. But it wasn't enough.
With a sudden surge, Stallion's blade broke through Henry's defense, slashing across his chest in a devastating arc. The pain burned through him like fire, blood spilling onto the cracked arena floor. Henry gasped but refused to scream. His vision blurred, yet his body refused to fall.
Stallion smirked. "You should have stayed down."
But Henry wasn't done. With sheer willpower, he pushed through the pain, his hand snapping forward to grab Stallion's arm in an iron grip.
Stallion's eyes widened. "What—"
A roar of defiance erupted from Henry's throat as he pulled Stallion in, cocking his right fist back. With all his remaining strength, he swung a devastating haymaker, his gauntlet crackling with energy.
The impact landed square on Stallion's face, sending him flying backward. The force of the punch sent him crashing to the ground, skidding across the battlefield.
Henry, now drained, staggered and dropped to his knees, gripping his bleeding chest. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to fall.