True to his temper, he was first to charge. From the time he dedicated to secretly training at night, he was able to identify the weaknesses and strengths of his current body.
Unlike his former, this one was not of athletic build. Easy tasks like breaking through bricks or lifting bigger objects proved far more laborious in this new body. However, in exchange for lack of sturdiness, he was flexible. This form offered a wider range of motions and every movement felt light as a feather.
There was barely any muscle to utilize, but muscle mass could be built. It wasn't bad at all, just underused and underdeveloped. With the right amount of protein intake and the correct regimen, he could perhaps fortify this host body to its full potential.
Dragon headed straight for a vital, but Jun easily defended, deflecting his hand and launching his own offense straight for the emperor's chest. Recognizing the attack, Dragon swerved with his lithe body to the right before using using Jun's momentum against him. However, such a simple trick couldn't fool the veteran warrior who went in for a roundhouse kick.
Not many people had quick enough reflexes to dodge that attack but Dragon was one of those gifted ones. Jumping, he launched his own series of kicks to push his opponent back before retreating himself to make some distance.
"Surely you have experience," Jun stated with a smirk.
The emperor went in for a second attack, this time utilizing his specialty, but only successfully landed one punch. Back then, that one fist could've sent any enemy spitting blood, but Jun stood perfectly fine as if just patted on the shoulder. Still, the Eastern prince was surprised a contender managed to touch him even once.
[This body doesn't have any upper strength!] Dragon cursed internally before making use of his flexibility to avoid Jun's swift movements that were much more advanced than any previous combatant. [Even if I land ten punches, I'd be knocked out if he lands just one on me.]
This was extremely daunting for the emperor who already died once and sincerely wished to live a long life. However, the thought of putting his life on the line breathed power into his soul. If he didn't die from dropping 1000 meters, he couldn't possibly die from a single fist. He survived for something.
Like the saying goes, "when one man is ready to risk his life, ten thousand men cannot defeat him." If Jun was the equivalent of ten thousand men in the eyes of the Eastern people, then Dragon still had a chance of victory.
As the two royalty fought, the spectators shared their excitement with "ooo"s and "ahhhh"s. The king hadn't seen his people so engaged with a battle since Jun first entered the ring. It was clear that the young emperor's fists didn't do much other than shake the dust off Jun's clothes, but he was landing them nonetheless.
Even more incredible was the fact that he managed to avoid all Jun's advances.
[That Dragon holds potential. Unfortunate that his body type doesn't suit his style.] The Eastern king thought.
Dragon flipped backwards, landing on his back and rolling his way across the field, still eluding any direct hits.
[Perhaps I can try…]
Dragon spun around, wrapping his legs around the prince's waist and hoisting him over his head. The attempt failed due to lack of lower and upper body strength, so Jun was just locked in place with the perfect cage to launch his punches.
But just before he had the chance to deal a death blow, Dragon remembered. Tucking his knees forward, he pivoted and pushed out from under the lean body holding onto him. The maneuver barely worked, but worked at the end.
[YES! If Little Sun can escape from under my previous body which was burlier than Jun's, than I can too. Thank god I practiced with her and know it well!]
Dragon thanked his sister mentally. Though training Little Sun was his idea of protecting her, it wasn't easy considering that it took her over two months to even manage to perfect one movement to a passable degree.
But disappointment there was indeed. This frail body of 17th was in worse condition than Little Sun's when he first inherited it. If she tried, she might just overpower it. It was such a tragedy that he couldn't combat Jun in his original form. He'd literally be a dragon against the dragon pushing out his palm at him.
Right when Dragon was about to dodge, his arms and legs suddenly gave out and he went immobile for a second. That second costed him a critical hit, right at the center of his chest, and a blood-curdling bone crack sounded loud enough to render the crowd and referee silent.
A ghastly look appeared on Jun's face as he realized that this time he successfully landed an attack—one that he didn't even hold back on.
Dragon, took a few steps back, barely able to stand but somehow managed to keep balance. With one hand to his chest, and the other curled into a fist, he took deep breaths to analyze the situation at hand.
Breathing was harder but not impossible. Three maybe four cracked ribs but none broken and unrepairable. His heart rate was uneven but if he steadied his breathing, he could control and maintain its usual frequency. Now his arms and legs lagged because as he expected during some time of the battle, his body would give out. It wasn't prepared to utilize the explosive energy he specialized in with his general's body.
Lesson learned. Good one at that. The Jin Emperor was satisfied.
Removing his arm from feeling the pain on his chest, Dragon lifted his arms in respect.
"I'm afraid…I have more training to do," he breathed out in large pants.
The audience didn't miss a word for they harbored a newfound respect for Jin's rumored puppet emperor. He didn't have the chance to win yet he willingly challenged a fight in respect for their customs. That in itself was a statement.
Jun retracted from his fight stance and mirrored the courtesy bow. "Had your attacks carried more power, we'd be on more even ground. Tell me, where have you learned your martial arts?"
Dragon really was dumbfounded. For a second he almost forgot his roots, slightly ashamed that he couldn't carry out even a quarter of the techniques passed on from his martial teachers in which he spent years perfecting.
"I am but a half student of the late, but humble general Teng," he answered, sure not to insult any of his teachers by mentioning anyone else's name.
Jun dipped his head. "I have heard of him and looked forward to a challenge someday. His passing is a tragic event, but I am still impressed by the knowledge he has instilled in you."
Praise from the Eastern legend was worthy to send Dragon off to heaven. He produced a smile before vomiting the blood he couldn't push down his throat and falling forward.
But before his body reached the ground, his favorite maid ran onto the stadium to catch him. So in Dragonfly's slender arms he laid, taking in her beauty that seemed even more visible when she was crying.
"Emperor Dragon!" Dragonfly called, shaking him relentlessly. "Don't die!"
[Hadn't anyone ever told her that shaking an injured person may worsen the injury?]
But whatever. Dragon was grateful. At least in this life, he got to die in the arms of a fair maiden.