The beast shot forward, its movements simple─punches and kicks, clumsy and lacking in speed, were thrown in the hopes that Moros would have a heard attack and could not do a step forward.
With practised ease earned through killing goblins, Moros stepped forward, the right hand tightly pressing atop its shoulder blade, exerting pressure, breaking it in two.
Holding it in place, the left fist shot forward, crashing right into its face, once, twice, thrice…the face slowly transforming, contusions, blonde and teeth sprayed around as the fist descended upon the helpless thing in the skin of a goblin.
Painful screams echoed throughout, after each hit met its target.
Afterwards Moros looked right into its eyes, seeing the fading consciousness. Letting go of his right hand, the body collapsed and fell face-first on the floor. Moros watched the body keenly…
It stood up, yet again.
The recovery period of the monster got faster, the extent of the injuries did not matter to it. An obviously hideous face looked brand new again. This time it launched its attacks again, slightly less clumsy, slightly faster, slightly stronger.
It was improving.
Moros was elated, it would have been too boring if it would just die over and over again. There was no fun in killing goblins, so having one that could learn and improve was the greatest gift Moros could have ever asked for, aside anything related to money.
The next lesson was a simple on: blindly throwing attacks was a no-go, it always left one open to counterattacks.
The right straight punch aimed at his face was ducked by a quick step in, a counter-punch was set, using its own speed against it, as the left fist pulverised its liver with targeted precision.
However, the combo was not finished with another step forward, he launched a brutal uppercut, which caused its body to leave the ground momentarily. The lower jaw had almost been vaporised upon impact.
Not yet done , Moros threw a series of left and right hooks. It caused the body of the creature to be shot from side to side, dancing in the fury of heavy punches.
The result was less of a face, more was it modern art. Art, that was launched straight into a tree with another strong straight right to its slightly destroyed face.
With a beautiful flight its body gracefully hit the tree and bounced off of it, falling to the floor like in an angelic fashion, coming down with the grace of a dying fish on land with the charming longevity of a stage 4 cancer patient.
Yet again, it stood up.
Another smile appeared upon its face, as it ran towards Moros, all damage it had received prior was gone without a trace.
It had learned, it had adapted. This time it did not attack blindly, it waited for Moros to move before it started its attack. Moros threw a straight, it stepped in aiming for his liver.
Moros jumped back, keenly waiting for his chance…seeing a gap his left fist shot forward, straight at its lower jaw, the goblin lifting his fist to block it.
The fist, however, stopped, it was a feint. The goblin was caught off-guard, its eyes peeled on the left arm, unsure what to make out of it.
Outside of its peripheral vision the right hand struck with full force against its face. It wobbled a bit, but withstood the heavy strike. Yet, the descendant grabbed both of its arms and pulled the dazed goblin towards himself.
With a deep grin on his face, Moros yanked its head towards his very own and with a crunching sensation, the skull met an unsuspecting nose─shattered upon initial contact.
Blood dripped out as its nose was flattened, destroyed and reduced to a pancake in size. The goblin still eyed Moros, planning its next attack.
Its attempted kick was prevented, after kicking the that stabilise its centre of gravity. A swift attack to the top of its knee caps and the leg collapsed under its weight, breaking in the process.
The next lesson: Balance is key.
Do not let your enemy hit your standing legs, else you will find yourself on the floor. The leading leg should always create enough distance to ensure that no attack can destroy the anatomical structure in question.
To drive this point home, Moros did not wait for it to regather its bearing, after having healed its injuries. Ducking under the right hook and twisting his upper body to the left to avoid the straight, he placed his right leg atop its left leg, sealing it in place.
With a soft smile atop his face, his hands wrapped around its shoulders pulling it into a tight grip. This is what is called a clinch…and if one is in a clinch, there is something that one should be aware of as a defender, something called knee strikes.
And those lovely attacks came towards it, Moros threw never after knee into its rib cage, causing it to wince and recoil with each impact that managed to burn bone to many little puzzle pieces.
Not long after, its body slumped, it fell to its knees…puking out red and the other contents of its stomach.
Surely, this little taste of his attacks was enough to drive that point home right?
The creature did not attack rashly after getting a new makeover…no, it had learned to anticipate, to observe and react accordingly. The time where it would blindly rush forward was now over.
The teacher of violence was proud, he really loved his student to the core, it was becoming a more complete fighter with each passing second.
For the next guidance, Moros swept low, his right hand touching the ground covered in ash. With its eyes wide open it watched Moros, setting up a guard to counter most attacks─a mistake.
Grabbing a handful of ash, Moros' right hand threw its entirety into its open eyes, calling a burning sensation and temporary blindness, a deadly weakness in a battle to the death.
Using one's environment was also something that every decent fighter had to do.
One should not throw punches and attacks wildly, when one was blinded. It might seem like a good choice in the spur of a moment, but from the outside it just looked like an old man trying to fight its Alzheimers.
Behaviour of such nature, needed to be corrected as soon as possible. Thanks to the guidance of fist to the face and kick to the nuts, it promptly kept its guard up again, not daring to throw any more attacks out even as it was blinded.
Another lecture ended with full success as the unwilling student was made aware of all its flaws by usage of force and violence.
Running towards the creature again, it threw up its guard waiting for the strike to come. It had listened to its surroundings, trying to deduce what kind of attack Moros might throw…the student had taken its first steps towards independence…
The attack was a flying knee, there was no lesson behind this; it just looked cool.
The thing dropped to the floor, before pushing itself up not even a second later. He had the funny feeling, the fight was just about to begin…and he would never want to have it any other way.
It shot forward, yet stepped to the side as Moros threw a kick throwing its body underneath his legs. It did not wait for his reaction and quickly rolled to the right side of his throwing an attack to the stomach…
As Moros' hands moved to block the incoming strike, he saw its smile too late…it had not been a straight punch, but an uppercut that struck him straight in the chin.
It gave Moros a big, fat grin before waiting for the counterattack to hit it straight in the face.
Yet, that never came.
Moros gave a nod of approval, before taking 3 steps back. He casually walked towards the spear stuck in the ground, picking it up with a relaxed expression on his face.
A soft smile appeared on his lips, as he saw the metal reflecting in the sun that shone from the sky atop it. Witnessing his reflection atop it, made him realise that the happiness brought be his happy pills, could indeed exist in the real world.
It was truly a nice day.
The goblin thingy, nodded too, its hand ripping into its own body, dragging out its spine. Without even flinching it broke its arm, sharpening the spine… and turning into a spear, just like Moros had.
It was a gruesome sight, but Moros watched the whole process without looking away even once. This was the respect he held for enemy, his student.
They had not known each other for more than 5 minutes, yet they respected one another.
Moros did not know why they thought, did not know why the goblin could not die, did not know about who was behind it. In the end, all of these details did not matter to him at this very moment.
Deep down, he was entirely aware of what was on the line here. Yet, his body and mind yearned for this feeling, something on the inside screamed at him to continue this battle till the bitter end.
The goblin looked at Moros and Moros looked at the goblin.
Both spears were ready, both fighters were ready. The fated friends would clash together and only one would leave this place alive!