Before Moros, stood a goblin. No, it was more than that─it was a goblin champion. It stood at more than 2 metres high, all its muscles had grown massively in size. Now, it was the one looking down at its enemy.
Markings, drawn deep in black ink, shone menacingly on its skin. These tattoos were drawn with the souls of all its dead brethren that placed their dreams, their last wishes upon its body.
BORIS was carrying the heavy burden, the will of its people with a smile on its face.
No longer was it fighting for itself, it was fighting for the dream of dead goblins, so that they may find rest.
Moros did not have such ambition, he just wanted to beat the living and the dead out of it. With its fists the size of his head and his arms that were as big as his desire for money…it did not seem that easy to accomplish.
Much was on the line as two enemies faced each other, staring each other down.
This was a battle where dreams, wills, desire all clashed; it was the biggest event of their 2 entire lives, something they would always remember…of course, none of the two actually cared about such details, or what it meant─they just wanted one thing only: violence.
Moros and BORIS shot forward simultaneously, their feet stomping on the ground when they pushed themselves toward the other.
In a matter of seconds, they stood before one another both preparing to do what they came here for.
The goblin grabbed Moros hair and Moros grabbed its hair, both held on, refusing to let go.
The other arms went back, before they were hurled with great speed at the face that was before them. The heavy impact reverberated through the scenery as both staggered back from it.
Yet, they held on and moved their arms back again, they were far from done. The next attack came, this time they did not budge an inch.
Blood trickled down the corner of their mouths, but none of them had any desire to back down now.
With madness in their eyes, both pulled their arms back yet again and threw it forward…they did so again and again and again, till bones cracked, bruises appeared, and their fists were covered in red and green blood.
Yet, this did not stop them as they continued to punch each other with no concern for their own wellbeing. BORIS was healing…Moros was not.
He was simply smiling as they both deformed their faces with each punch thrown. The punches grew faster, stronger…his body screamed, begging for rest. Yet, there was no sign of exhaustion.
He simply threw a punch and then threw another after the first one had finished.
The smile on his face grew wider.
There were no big plans in his mind, there were no secret powers within him. There was no thinking involved, he simply did what his mind told him to do.
Moros was certain, it was no different for BORIS. This fight was just between the two of them and everything else had to wait. Techniques or fancy magic was not needed here.
One of them would come out walking, the other would never walk again. It was as simple as that, it was as beautiful as that.
The striking continued, like 2 wild beasts they were at each others throat, letting go was not an option.
His face was more blunt trauma than it was a face at this point.
One eye was swollen shut, the jaw was broken, several cuts had opened up all over his skin. The nose was crooked, bent fully to the right, blood seeping out of it without stopping.
Yet, he did not stop the madness, his flesh was suffering as his mind yelled at him to continue the bloody exchange of wounds.
The voice inside commanded him to persist and not listen to his body. He simply needed to punch, not think. He would never be the one to break here, not he, not Moros.
BORIS on the other hand, did not seem to be bothered by his desire to decide the fight in this barbaric manner, after all every wound of his just came at a little price.
It did certainly hurt, these exchanges were not something it could endure easily. But, everything became a lot more bearable knowing that the other must be suffering as much as oneself.
This brutality surpassed a normal battle long ago, this was a fight to the death, both willing to risk their flesh to hurt the other more. Every move was done knowing that the other would hurt too.
Yet, one of them had been playing until now.
BORIS arm shot forward at thrice the speed, aiming at Moros chest, piercing the skin, piercing the muscles, piercing the bones, shooting out on the other side of his body.
2 holes appeared on Moros body as it retracted its face, with the biggest grin on its face. Normally, it would not disrespected its enemy like that, but for this annoying human, it would make an exception to the rule.
Moros looked down in disbelief as a fountain of blood shot out of his body, a pool of red forming quickly beneath his feet.
"Is that…mine?" The thought struck him, but he could not quite answer it, his mind was too dazed and too wobbly to think straight. The circumstances and the state of his body were looking bleak.
The champion laughed heartily, staring at Moros with victory already decided.
It simply waited for its enemy to fall on the floor and collapse like the rat, the useless insect that he was. At least, that much honour it deserved.
Yet, it was Moros looking back at it with a smile that had creeped onto his face.
"You know goblin thing…I have always wondered why getting injured made me only stronger. Its not some ultra secret. Being on the verge of death, simply means that my body can not hold the magic that is in me anymore…"
Out of the hole escaped a maelstrom of magic that shoot out all over the room, destroying walls, the throne, everything that it came into contact with.
Even Boris was flung through the room, barely regaining its balance after flying for several metres.
"The funniest thing is, I have always wondered where the magic cores went, after I killed a monster…as it turns out…" Moros pointed to his hole with a big grin on his face.
"All that mana flows inside body. And sorry to crush your dreams here, pal! I have killed way too many living beings in recent days. You are going to have a really bad time."
Moros surrounded a vast tide of mana, laid over his body like a thick film of amassed, raw energy. With each step he took forward, toward his enemy the ground shook and the very air vibrated.
Boris stared straight ahead, ready to see for itself what the human was going to do next.
Seeing it with its own eyes. Boris, for the very first time in its life, felt a tinge of fear creeping up its heart. However, this was not enough to stop it, far from it.
Both bodies disappeared from sight, where they stood before a mere afterimage remained. Fists collided, bones splintered, both were fixed in the blink of an eye.
The impacts caused shockwaves to spread around and the entire dungeon to shake amidst their strong punches and kicks.
Yet, it grew faster still.
Moros grinned, as he transformed the mana into a coating of stone atop his fists. The punches grew stronger, both of them developed in the spur of the moment─becoming far better fighters than they were just seconds prior.
Moros landed a heavy punch, catapulting Boris through yet another wall, its body breaking the heavy stone wall with ease, as it shot like a cannonball through the thick stone.
The man leaking an seemingly endless stream of Mana followed suit, rushing throw the new opening into the next room.
Yet, another fist already welcomed him and he was flung backwards into the first room. Their whole fight became a blur to the naked eye.
There were no pauses in this exchange of deadly blows as none could afford to hold back anymore.
Punches, kicks, blocks, dodges everything was chained together, one mistake resulting in serious consequences. Both knew that with the current rate of exchange something would happen sooner or later…no something must happen.
Boris, too, felt his body undergoing change. The injuries, they slowly piled up. At first, it never thought that it could reach this point… but just too much had happened and too much is happening to take it lightly.
Every strike is a potential injury and there were only so many that could be healed until its limit would be reached.
The fighters speed up yet again, forcing their bodies to the very limits, as every second increased in ferocity and madness. The magic surrounding Moros did not fade, as the air grew thicker and thicker with the reside mana that laid over the room like poison.
Breathing got harder, seeing got increasingly worse.
They did not care, they fought on.
A decision had to appear soon…someone would soon have to die, a fight like this could never be sustained for much longer. Their bodies would soon reach the limit.
Would it be the 10000 lives or the magic that leaked out of Moros pores, keeping him alive?