It was time for the rematch: Amon versus the orc. He strode purposefully toward the place where their paths had crossed before. Along the way, he encountered a group of five Suraimus, but to their surprise, he continued on his path, undeterred. The monsters soon noticed him and charged in his direction.
Amon pressed forward, seemingly unfazed. As the first Suraimu leaped toward him, Amon's movements were a blur of lightning-fast strikes with his shortsword. He didn't bother to look back as the Suraimus disintegrated, continuing his march like a determined soldier heading into battle.
Reaching the same spot where he had once been weak and had to rely on debris for cover, Amon felt a surge of disgust at the memories of his past vulnerability. However, he remained resolute. After leaping onto one of the nearby houses, he spotted the orc he sought—wandering as it had before, oblivious to the impending showdown.
Blinded by anger at the sight of the orc, Amon charged toward it with shortsword in hand, shouting, "TIME FOR ROUND 2!" The orc took notice and began its slow approach, setting the stage for a confrontation between two adversaries driven by vengeance.
Now, they stood face to face. The orc raised its massive club and swung it downward toward Amon, but Amon's sudden burst of laughter took it by surprise. In the blink of an eye, Amon leaped and sliced off the orc's arm, remarking, "So slow."
"How the tables have turned," Amon jeered, watching the orc cry out in pain. With its remaining hand, the orc tried to retrieve the club and attack Amon once more, but Amon's speed proved too much. The orc swung wildly, creating a wasteland of debris before it.
Amon continued to taunt the orc, even though it couldn't comprehend his words. Yet, his mockery seemed to infuriate it further. The orc swung its club downward with all its might, but Amon wasn't where it expected. In an instant, Amon severed the orc's remaining leg, changing its expression from anger to fear.
Desperately, the orc turned its head, searching for its relentless foe. Amon suddenly appeared before its eyes, uttering, "Well, well, well." He gazed down at the orc with disdain. In a last-ditch effort, the orc swung its club, catching Amon by surprise. Though his reflexes kicked in and he used his shortsword to block, the orc's strength exceeded expectations. Amon was sent hurtling into a nearby car, his shortsword shattered.
"Not again," Amon whispered, recalling his past arrogance. He refused to repeat his mistakes. With a powerful leap and a raised fist, he delivered a devastating blow to the orc's head. It was over. Amon had emerged victorious.
Despite his injuries and the blood that splattered his body, he raised his fist high and let out a triumphant roar. He had achieved the seemingly impossible—he had defeated an orc.