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Chapter 11 - Primal

Bang!

With a resounding bang, the collision of Damon's fist with the blood orc's reverberated through the air.

Both combatants were unexpectedly pushed back, the blood orc's eyes narrowing in disbelief at being bested in a battle of force by the seemingly delicate demon.

''Rar!"

Fueled by fury, the blood orc stomped the ground, causing a quake, and hurled a fierce punch towards Damon's head.

Pom!

Swift and sharp, the blow sliced through the air like a blade. Damon's golden eyes focused as he deftly shifted his upper body, narrowly avoiding the attack. Nonetheless, the forceful punch created a gust of wind that brushed against his nose, creating a friction that burns his nose, causing it to redden but he had no time to dwell on this.

As he dodged, Damon delivered a swift kick aimed at the blood orc's lower body. The orc, preparing to strike again, was forced to block the kick by crossing his arms. Anticipating this move, Damon grinned and launched a spinning kick with his other leg.

Bang!

The surprise kick struck the blood orc's head, jolting its brain violently and propelling it into the air.

Boom!

It crashed into the lake, causing a splash that sent water surging upward.

Damon landed on his arms, quickly somersaulting to regain his balance. He immediately propelled himself toward the fallen blood orc.

He lifted his left leg high, aiming for a cleaving kick. Dazed from the previous blow, the blood orc instinctively crossed his arms to block it. In the process, he opened his mouth, spitting out the water inside like a geyser, aimed right between Damon's legs. Damon narrowed his eyes and swiftly dodged with a backflip.

"Fuck! How vicious!" he cursed, frustrated. If he had been just a second too slow, he would have lost his family's jewel. He glared at the blood orc.

The blood orc rolled his eyes at Damon's glare, as if to say, "Aren't you doing the same thing not long ago?"

Damon had no choice but to fall silent.

With a sudden splash, the blood orc emerged from the water, rising by striking both hands down. Without hesitation, he launched a punch at Damon, who instinctively dodged.

However, Damon was unprepared for the orc's swift adaptation; in a heartbeat, the creature delivered a powerful kick aimed directly at his ribs.

Bang!

The attack was too rapid for Damon to fully brace himself. He managed to raise his right arm just in time, blocking the strike with his elbow, but he couldn't neutralize its force completely.

Bam! Fswosh!

The impact sent him hurtling backward, and he coughed up blood as he tumbled across the surface of the lake several times before finally sinking beneath the water.

Still submerged, he remembered his mother's warning, a stark reminder not to underestimate the monsters lurking in this place.

A sudden chill ran down his spine. Without hesitation, Damon rolled over in the water, just in time—his previous position was violently shaken as a large rock splashed down nearby.

The Blood Orc, witnessing his attack fail yet again, let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the battleground. Fueled by a primal rage, he charged at Damon with the intent to crush him once and for all. Damon, feeling a surge of determination, mirrored the beast's ferocity and lunged forward at a maddening speed, both combatants locked in a deadly dance.

Bam! Boom! Bang!

For the next five minutes, the air was thick with chaos as man and beast clashed with everything they had. Each strike landed with bone-jarring force, and their laughter, tinged with bloodlust, filled the space around them. It was an eerie sound, a disturbing mix of joy and pain that sent shivers down the spines of any onlookers.

As the fierce battle raged on, injuries began to accumulate on both their bodies, a testament to the relentless exchange of blows. Damon, however, was emboldened by his godly regenerative abilities, healing almost instantaneously from the wounds that marked him. He felt no fear, no hesitation, as fresh injuries vanished in the blink of an eye. The only limitation he faced was his stamina, which was dwindling rapidly.

The Blood Orc, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. His body was battered and bruised, the wounds piling up faster than his normal regenerative abilities could manage. He began to falter, each movement becoming more sluggish as exhaustion took its toll. The injuries he sustained were beginning to overwhelm him, and the spark of ferocity in his eyes dimmed slightly.

In an unexpected turn, both fighters stumbled upon makeshift spears, crude yet effective weapons that they wielded with reckless abandon. There was no technique involved, no finesse—just raw, unfiltered brutality. The primal urge to kill the other took over, transforming their struggle into something almost beautiful in its savagery. It was a fight stripped of skill, echoing back to a primordial era where survival depended solely on strength and willpower. Each thrust and parry was a reminder of their shared ferocity, a testament to the raw nature of combat that transcended time itself. It was Primal and it was beautiful.