Chapter 46 - Berserker's Jab!

Alistein rubbed the back of his neck before giving it a sharp twist, and a crack followed. "Then, shall we start, father?"

Emperor Azaron removed his long outer robe and tossed it to the side, revealing the ripped muscles of his upper body that he consistently worked to improve even after achieving his title. "Ready when you are."

Without wasting more time, Alistein dashed forward, prompting the emperor to react immediately. The emperor raised his guard, protecting his upper body as Alistein struck a jab straight into the middle of his defense. It was a clean hit to the forearm.

'This behavior and…this technique…' Emperor Azaron quickly distanced himself from Alistein. Unwittingly, his rock-solid arms trembled. His old body's perception and senses were better than most, and he was able to feel every inch of power Alistein poured into that straight jab through his arms. This technique felt so…familiar!

Alistein grinned at the look of alarm on his father's expression. "Dragon Slayer Fist: Berserker's Jab! A little souvenir I took from Batarak stuck being his errand boy. Do you like it, father?"

Azaron's expression clouded over, his eyes turning dark. Dragon Slayer Fist was a martial art Batarak created. Berserker's Jab was a difficult technique to pull off; the practitioner must master complete relaxation of their arms before instantly tightening up from the shoulder to the knuckles in the exact moment of contact.

'No wonder, that bad strike felt heavy,' Azaron thought.

In the martial arts world, those kinds of attacks that struck the heart of an opponent's defense were normally considered bad since the opponent would only sustain a small amount of damage from an attack that drained much energy from the attacker's stamina, especially in the beginning of a long, hand-to-hand combat.

Only Batarak, the living definition of the word 'aggressive' would consider such as free hits, and even formulate techniques to abuse those defensive stances! His stupid, impulsive behavior was the reason why Batarak would lose matches against the Emperor despite being the better martial artist overall.

It was blatant disrespect for Azaron, a prominent practitioner of martial arts himself, to have won those matches like that. Batarak would learn from him, while Azaron would not be able to experience Batarak's true martial arts skills to the fullest extent. But even so, Batarak did not lose every match. Because of his recklessness and acquisitiveness, Batarak managed to beat the best martial artists he knew there was in their own styles.

For Batarak, there was no point in beating opponents through their weaknesses. And so, the Dragon Slayer Fist was developed, a martial art that crushed the opponent's will to fight once used. It was completely opposite of the martial art Azaron knew, which was used to fighting using the weaknesses of one's opponents, finishing a battle as quickly as possible, and for the sole purpose of self-defense.

Unfortunately, now, his son was mimicking the same behavior and style of combat.

"Alistein," Azaron fretted. He frowned, worry etched between his brows. Even now, he could still concern for his son as a father. "You're no Batarak. This style of combat will only come back to bite you someday-"

"I'm not here for your lectures!" Alistein interrupted, cutting him off with an irritated shout. "I have and will continue to copy the strongest man I've known, unlike a pathetic old man like you!" he spat.

Emperor Azaron grimaced. He could not help but feel a pang in his chest. "Well, son. This pathetic old man is still alive. And that strongest man…where is he now? He's dead! He died because of his arrogance, and you know that, right?"

"That doesn't change the fact that he's far superior to you, Emperor!" Alistein hissed back, his eyes burning with rage. "Self-defense or whatnot, that sh*t won't allow you to win against me! Prepare yourself!" He charged forward, making known the threat of his dragon slayer fist.

Emperor Azaron took in a deep breath, forcing himself to toss aside any further reluctance to fight. He had no more choice. It was time to face his son, head-on. 'He's beyond my control. He's talented, but regretfully still, a bit wet behind the ears.'

He couldn't remember how long it had been since he last fought someone. But he kept up his training routines, knowing that there would come a time where he must face his last opponent. It was at this moment that his body recognized his last fight to be now. It was now, that he must use the epitome of all he had attained in all his years as a martial artist!

'What is he doing? He's wide open,' Alistein thought to himself. But he attacked anyway.

All of a sudden, Emperor Azaron raised his right fist, eyes trained on Alistein's head.

'He will punch! Dodge!' Alistein came to an abrupt halt in his tracks and backpedaled before he could enter his father's attacking range.

It was the emperor's turn to advance, expecting Alistein to withdraw. And Alistein threw a sudden straight jab, hoping for Azaron to retreat. His reach was longer, so Alistein figured, if he retained his distance, he could land some blows while staying at a safe distance. He knew how dangerous his father could be in close combat, and it was a game he did not want to play if he wanted any chance of winning.

In the blink of an eye, Azaron slipped past Alistein's attack and stepped his right foot behind Alistein's.

Alistein's eyes flew wide open in horror, realizing what was about to happen. 'Sh*t!'

Before Alistein could move, Emperor Azaron wrapped his arms around Alistein's body, pinning his arms to his sides as he tripped Alistein's inside leg out of balance and slammed him into the ground.

Boom-!!

For the first time, the fearsome man who led today's destructive invasion hit the deck, a plentiful amount of blood expelling from his insolent mouth.

"This is what you get for disrespecting your father and leading that dragon to Lunargard! I may be your father, but that doesn't mean I will go easy on you! I am still the Emperor of this faction, and you continue to humiliate me with your wrongdoings! Now stand up!" Azaron barked. With a daunting glare, he hissed a warning through his teeth. "We're far from over, boy!"