There was such thing as a 'system' in martial arts that was widely used in most forms across Earth.
Some called it a reverse tree flowchart.
Normally, people had different ways of approaching a situation, but you couldn't teach someone every single move in existence. People had limited time before theory became practical.
If you couldn't train and pressure test it in the time needed, then any move taught would be useless.
That's why a 'system' filtered out the useless fetters to make way for the better, practical moves.
Among them, the rear naked choke was a hold that was widely considered a great move overall.
If it was given stars and reviews, a person would give this move five of them for its sheer efficiency.
Blocking someone's ability to breath was much more scary than wasting energy on strikes.
It was hard to get out of once fully locked. It two people had similar builds, it was even harder.
Once the arms were locked in place, it was like a snake wrapping around its prey at that moment.
Five seconds of breathlessness like this could even knock a grown man out. It was THAT devastating.
At least, that's what it'd be in the normal world.
After having been nearly frozen, Pal focused Fire Ether from the atmosphere to melt his stiff arms.
His clothes were a mess.
From what he could see, Shia had seemingly unlocked a sort of 'domain' around her body.
It acted like a sort of territorial barrier.
Everything that came into that 'domain', whether it was leaves or grass, was frozen upon contact.
Did she manipulate the Ether too?
From what Simon told him, the level of Martial Arts of this world above 'Style' was called 'Domain'.
Apparently, it was the crystallised form of techniques taking the shape of an innate world.
It was using willpower to influence reality.
From what he could perceive with his senses, there was no way to use Fire Ether within her domain.
Because 'heat' didn't exist within it.
Her world was one where she didn't know anything but coldness. The bone-chilling frost of the north.
There was no way to counteract it yet.
He needed time to think.
However, Shia didn't stay still and wait for him to come up with a solution. She shot towards him.
'Concussion Arrows!' Alarm bells raised in Pal's head while weaving Mana to his absolute limits.
Four arrows with 'Concussion' applied to them hit the ground. Disturbing her footwork's rhythm.
Successfully slowing her down.
But not for long. Before he could fully form two more arrows, her fist struck his forearm cleanly.
"AAAARGH!" A sudden roar resounded out.
Pain filled his expression. Pal realised that her fists could crack his skin and freeze his bloodstream.
'Death!' He numbed the feeling in his arms using the deathly energy of his Abyss Core. He fought.
Knowing that victory came to the patient.
Death couldn't heal his wounds, but it at least gave him enough time to patch his arms back together.
Using shadows to knit his flesh back together.
This type of regeneration caused deformities in his skin… but he had no time to think about that.
He had to come up with a solution before her next charge. His arms would be shattered if he didn't.
Pal's thoughts started racing.
Every possibility inside the box was thrown out. His level of flames couldn't overcome her coldness.
After all, his flames was ordinary heat turned into magical particles. A natural expression of fire.
The unmelted frost enveloping her domain, on the other hand, was directly created from her 'Qi'.
There was a difference in density here.
If only he could revert his Artes Lines back to the way they were before, then maybe he could…
'No.' Even if he could, there was no way he could choose to degrade his Magic Capacity this time.
He still hadn't had enough of the increase in rank.
Since there was no way he'd go down, Pal had to think of a way to light his Artes Lines on fire.
'Wait…' Pal suddenly realised it.
Why didn't he think of doing that before?
[You have used 'Willpower Enchantment'.]
He touched his chest. Directly applying the flames.
[Your Artes Lines shall temporarily take on the Fire Attribute. Imbued flames will now burn the user.]
If it wasn't for the Abyss Core numbing his pain, Pal would have felt as if he was burning to death.
As a necessary precaution, he also added another power to his flames. Drawing them within him.
When Shia came charging again, he managed to enter her 'domain' without freezing immediately.
His eyes glowing red.
A fist struck her near indescribable ice covered arm again. This time, the flames acted differently.
KABOOM.
As expected of a magical quality created from the Skill called Strike. It went perfectly with blows.
Although the damage was little, he managed to blow apart Shia's defences time and time again.
'Now this is fair…' Pal thought. He dragged her back into the battle system of Mixed Martial Arts.
Though now he limited himself to striking.
He experimented with it again, and realised his assumption was right the first time he tested it.
Shia was nothing in terms of technical prowess.
His foot changed directions from a low leg kick… to a high dynamic stroke to snap her little neck.
A classic Brazilian Kick. Changing the direction of the attack midway. The initial direction a feint.
He continued putting the pressure.
Showing the diligence he put into turning his life around and going straight. His efforts into MMA.
It wasn't a domain, but he expressed the culture behind his fists in the methods he used to fight.
Trying to rival her home's unique martial arts.
'Now this is real fairness.' Though they initially fought with magic, now it was a test of systems.
Which one would win? Pal's carefully constructed system made from coexistence, or Shia's tradition.
As expected, the former was winning out.
"If you can't even beat me here, you should give up on trying to make a 'perfect ending'. Even I can't guarantee success with my knowledge." Pal tried to persuade her. This madness wasn't worth it at all,
But there was one thing he had forgotten.
Even though Eastern Fantasy practitioners like Shia didn't share their secrets, they DID fight a lot.
And direct testing like that sharpened any forms.
In the pugilistic world, there would obviously be masters of battle that surpassed common sense.
This was only natural.
He couldn't hold back. This fight would determine both their fates, and much more than their lives.
If she hated him, then would she like George?
There was a high chance his brother could die.
Pal needed to not only win. He needed to overpower Shia to the point she'd stand down.
The first thing he needed to do was identify her weakness. See the gaps made by her methods.
Somehow, he couldn't see anything.
"Are you copying me?" Pal couldn't help believing that when she showed similar habits as himself.
Separating striking and grappling.
No, there was a difference. Her arm would entangle his own and direct his strikes the wrong direction.
As someone who had studied various classics and eastern arts, Pal instantly became aware of it.
This wasn't some mystical technique he was being confronted with. It was an answer to his diligence.
Pure technique.
No magic. No tricks.
Since their powers were cancelling each other out evenly, he was now entering the domain of physical techniques with her. There was a name for this entanglement that old martial arts movies had.
It was called 'Aiki'.
He'd never seen it used to this level before.
Though it was known as the principle and tactics of Japanese martial artists of the past, nowadays that method was too abstruse to understand. What did it mean for the attacker to merge with the defender without collision? What did it mean to use 'Ki'?
Shia answered this question with perfect distribution of strength and flowing of power.
The moment their arms touched, she'd offset Pal's weight distribution by nudging the physical force.
Changing the flow of power disadvantageously for him. She'd then separate to throw him or strike.
Each time she did, his pride was hurt.
He'd already felt powerless from the unexpected things outside his knowledge. Now, even though his opponent was a swordsman, she was keeping up and even surpassing him with pure technique.
How could he accept this?
'I should run away…' His rational mind was sensible enough to know he was no match for her right now.
As long as he ran away now, he could get back at her later. That's fine. It was how he lived his life.
But another part of him wanted her to draw her sword. To prove that his way of living wasn't wrong.
It made his mind sink into the state of 'The Zone'.
Smack.
He threw off her core tactic of Aiki and struck much more efficiently. His body of exploding heat.
Grapple, Strike, Throw, and Hold. He was switching between them like a descended rioting dragon.
Using them to their highest possible limits.
The both of them had accumulated damage, and bruises started to appear on both combatants.
'I win.' At the decisive moment, Pal showed the result of talent and diligence to his own ways.
Striking multiple times to take her down.
He was simply overpowering her with the complexity and vastness of his mixed martial arts.
Taking her down efficiently.
The fight should've ended there.
It should've…
"I'm disappointed." Shia's voice rang in his ears.
It felt like she broke out of the confines of a logically built system and went beyond that realm.
Her body moved freely to entangle his arms and throw a counterattack. He felt her change clearly.
'What…?' Before, Pal could get a sense of how she would move. But now… her moves had become sublime in a sense. She was no longer following fixed methods of using the techniques she had.
Instead only following the concept of Aiki itself.
He threw his body forward in an attempt to tackle her to the ground, but she immediately threw a knee to launch his chin high. This was followed by a twist of her body to grab his neck with her leg.
Throwing him in the same moment he was struck.
Pal hit the floor. He exploded some of the heat on his back to get back up, then kicked her fluidly.
Changing from one leg to the other in order to keep striking, regardless of if he needed to breath...
Even this was nothing to her.
He underestimated her physical stats. The moment she stopped holding back her strength, an afterimage was left in her place. Various lingering attacks struck his fluid strikes without stopping.
While he fended them off, Shia appeared behind him. Her small fist drove into his flesh and bones.
A chill extinguished his flames.
'RUN!!!' The sudden increase in the danger the Yuki Onna could bring made his pride collapse.
Only one thought was left when the gloves came off and she stopped hiding her real strength.
The natural flames within him was nothing compared to that piercing ice. He'd faltered.
[Your 'Willpower' is too low to enchant.]
Another bad news made him more resolved to abandon his pride. Nothing mattered at that point.
He used 'concussion' for explosive propelling force at his feet. Throwing himself towards the exit.
She followed, but wasn't entirely fast enough.
Ice indeed had made her movements flexible. Her ice skater balance and joint motion made it work.
But 'sliding' wasn't as fast as being propelled.
'I have to tell Talia.' There was no way that nun would let the saviour of her species go like this.
Pal just had to inform her and let her shield him.
That was his initial thoughts while opening the doorway out. He needed to throw out his name.
Make it useful somehow.
Anything was better than what Shia wanted.
Fear was invading his thoughts and making the light of the exit feel like his only hope for survival.
A gleaming smile crept on his face thoughtlessly.
He wasn't even aware of it himself.
The moment of victory was at hand. Because despite her strength, she wasn't the fastest.
She was only one person.
BOOM.
"Urgh…!" Pal groaned when an explosion erupted from the door and threw him away from the exit.
In that exact moment, he saw a sword being thrown at him before the explosion. A scary face followed.
The flesh possessing 'Near Perfect' Mimic looked at him with empty eyes. As if it was doing a task.
His feelings were irrelevant in front of those empty eyes of hostility. It's body swaying the fleshly parts that it was attached to. The thick arms of the eldritch horror were then engulfed in flames.
"You bastards!" Pal swore. Countless vulgarities left his lips at the thought of being captured.
Only to then be struck from the opposite side.
"Who are you to judge my actions?!" Shia looked like she snapped and shouted back in anger.
Her body was shaking, but her fist still continued to mercilessly beat the young man crying out in pain.
Shia started to monologue without thinking. She was replying to his countless insults and retorts.
Her words justifying her 'heroic' criminal act:
"Who are you to abandon this world? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE… to say it's all useless."
"You're the worthless one. Trying to run away again? Do you really think I'd let you do that?"
"This world doesn't need bystanders. Either save the world as a hero should, or be crushed by me."
"You are nothing here."
"You were nothing in your own world, and you're even less here! You're a parasite. You're cowardly."
"Stop complaining like a child and act like a man!"
"FUCK YOU!" Compared to her 'formal' insults, Pal simply cursed without thought of what he spoke.
This wasn't a clash of their ideals. He was a victim.
She was the villain here.
Rage fuelled his willpower and became a new strength within him. His inner flame worked again.
Exploding his opponents away.
The marks from being beaten back and forth like a ball between the girl and Mimic were still there.
One of his teeth had been punched out.
Blood seeped into his clothes from the burns and cracked blue skin of frostbite. It was all painful.
[Your 'Willpower' is regained.]
['Riot Hysteria' has been activated.]
A surge of dark and deathly energy covered his body. He no longer cared if his life was lost.
He'd bring these bastards down with him…!
A fist struck the face of the Mimic. The release of his mental limiter and enhanced strength struck.
Blowing away the Mimic in one punch!
His power was mightily. Overwhelming.
Throwing himself towards Shia in a last ditch effort to take her life. The clanging of flesh resounded.
Fist met fist again.
Kick met a more fluid foot combo.
His blood painted the ground. No longer having any self of self-preservation. Meeting his end quickly.
Even after his death, he'd right as a ghoul or skeleton so long as there was bone marrow left.
Until his body became dust.
He wouldn't let her capture him whatsoever.
"Do you think I'm a coward now?" A grin appeared on his face when he saw her expression falter.
This was his answer.
He wasn't so scared of dying on its own. He was fearful that he'd die without any rhyme or reason.
Dying like a side character.
If he had still had the opportunity to follow George as usual, at least he'd die as that man's brother.
But what about now?
Even though it was regretful, he'd rather die spitting on the person he hated at this point.
Someone he sincerely despised.
The wannabe hero girl that wanted her way with him. Wanting to likely sacrifice him in a ritual.
He'd rather die here than be a ritual sacrifice!
He knew well the kind of fate those who were sacrificed to Demons had. Even as his skin froze.
This wasn't some joke.
Better to die a hero than a random citizen. At least the hero got a parade for dying in the line of duty.
The citizen? Oh, they were simply unfortunate…
Shia felt like she had flipped a switch in him. His expression and actions livelier in the face of death.
Sweat trickled down her face.
Even if he was weaker, the pressure of a man that was ignoring his body's decay hard to believe.
It made her unconsciously take steps back.
'What vigour…' Shia sensed the joys of life and violence of death at the same time in that moment.
Her eyes starting to waver.
And with that feeling, the weakening of willpower.
Shadows emerged from the side of the room. It looked like the Treants were here to help him.
A smile bloomed on Pal's face when he saw reinforcements in the shape of a High Elf.
Humans might be cowardly and ungrateful at times, but the dignified Elves would be different.
They could not betray their life's saviour.
Just at that moment, he has already become a ghoul that was showing his bones and innards.
On the verge of truly dying to Shia.
The elf that came to his rescue held a bow in her hand, but she first held her palm towards Pal.
"Heal." With just one word, a fountain of light erupted from the elf's body and went to him.
Healing up his injuries.
However…
[You have regained your health. 'Riot Hysteria' will be deactivated. Influence of Holy restrains it.]
[Your Abyss Core has been influenced by the counter element of Wood. Skill is being restrained.]
These two messages surprised him. It looked like she had made a mistake due to his innate traits.
The incompatibility between her and his Skills.
He turned his head, and spoke to stop her:
"Talia-" Ptch.
A sudden pain made him look down.
An wooden arrow embedded into his chest, which followed by tree branches skewing his limbs up.
The pain was so powerful. The numbness agent he had been using was now broken thanks to Talia.
[Error.]
[Physical manifestation of Abyss Core in your body has been shattered. Body is going into shock.]
['Abyss Core' Intrinsic Skill is now erased.]
There were times like this. Times when the compatibility issue could overwhelm a person.
That's what Pal had experienced.
With the last vestiges of his consciousness, he asked a question his mind knew the answer to:
"Why?" His face had twisted.
Different from the way he'd questioned the betrayal of Shia earlier. His expression caused some shock.
It didn't take long before he fell unconscious.
Talia was looking at him while clenching her fist in realisation. Closing her eyes to regain her breath despite not doing any strenuous exercise. She knew what her partner in crime was going to ask.
"No. I haven't been moved. The plan goes as it was originally." Despite having betrayed him, none of them felt any good about this. Talia, the one who spoke up, had a horrid look on her face in guilt.
"…You idiot." The two of them had made up their minds. They couldn't stop themselves at this point.
'I already lied to her.' Talia thought about the unwavering trust Bertha gave by not even checking herself if Girtha was dead. Taking her junior's words as reality and moving on with her life.
Not that long after, Talia and Shia stood in a small basement with a ritual circle written in blood.
Two offering were put near the alter.
They were ready to summon 'something' from the Demon Realm in exchange for two lives in total.
The glow of the ritual started fill the room.