Chapter 15: Hammer 80! Got the boss!
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After hearing Elric Bradley's instructions, Tom froze. Did he just get asked to beat someone up? His heart tightened immediately, and panic coursed through him.
But he couldn't disobey Elric—not after what had just happened. That man had the audacity to slam him into the ground earlier with zero hesitation! If Tom tried to escape now, not only would he miss out on his promised reward of a small cake, but he'd probably have to pack his bags and flee for his life.
No. That wouldn't do. Absolutely not!
Resolving himself, Tom stiffened like a board, his body as rigid as a hammer. He swayed left and right a few times, then turned awkwardly to face Alexander, who stood poised and ready for battle.
But when Tom saw his supposed opponent, he froze, blinking a few times. Then his panic melted away, replaced by complete calm.
This is my opponent? He thought to himself, tilting his head in confusion. This little guy? So short?
Tom glanced at Alexander, then at himself, his confidence soaring. Compared to the man he had pinned down and pummeled just yesterday, this guy didn't even seem worth the effort.
I can totally handle this dwarf, Tom thought smugly. His once-aching back straightened, and his stiff legs moved freely again.
I, Tom, may not be great at fighting the strong, but when it comes to bullying the weak? Oh, I excel.
Feeling emboldened, Tom turned to Elric with a mischievous grin, then jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, pointing directly at Alexander. The motion was so exaggerated that it seemed to echo with a resounding thump, thump.
Still smirking, Tom grabbed onto Elric's thigh with his left hand, slapped his own belly with his right, and burst into raucous laughter. "Ahahahahahahahahaha!!!"
Alexander, who had been brimming with fighting spirit, suddenly frowned. His enthusiasm dimmed as he stared at Tom's absurd display. He didn't entirely understand what the cat was doing, but it was clear enough: he was being mocked.
By a cat.
For Alexander—or any heroic spirit, really—this was an insult too great to bear. Blue arcs of electricity began crackling around his body, his irritation palpable.
"If you are a heroic spirit with a name that has echoed through human history," Alexander declared, his voice thunderous, "then fight me fairly! I swear on the honor of my father!" His eyes blazed with determination as he prepared to charge.
Despite his outward bravado, Alexander's mind was racing. Who was this cat? He had never heard of a feline hero in any legend. The closest resemblance might be Hippomenes and Atalanta, who were turned into lions in Greek mythology. Perhaps this cat hailed from Egypt, a descendant of the feline goddess Bastet?
Meanwhile, Elric's throat tightened as he watched the situation escalate. Tom's antics were clearly pushing Alexander's patience to the brink. It was as if the cat thought he hadn't drawn enough aggro yet and was actively working to max out the conqueror's rage meter.
If this kept up, Elric thought grimly, he'd be in serious trouble.
"Tom," Elric said sharply, patting the cat on the shoulder to get his attention. He needed to stop this taunting immediately. Sure, Tom's taunts might work wonders in a group battle, drawing enemy focus like a proper tank. But this was a one-on-one fight. Not only was the strategy ineffective, but it was also likely giving Alexander a massive attack boost from sheer fury.
Tom seemed to understand—or at least pretended to. He straightened up and began walking toward Alexander with an air of exaggerated calm.
By the time he reached the center of the battlefield, Tom had somehow changed into the outfit of a French swordsman, complete with a flamboyant feathered hat. A gorgeous foil gleamed in his right hand, the kind typically seen in fencing tournaments.
'When?!'
Alexander, fully focused on preparing for battle, suddenly realized that although Tom had been walking toward him from the front, he hadn't noticed when the cat had armed itself!
"Aha!"
Tom reached the front of the battle formation, striking an exaggerated pose with his limbs spread wide. A confident smile spread across his face as he stood with his right side facing Alexander, holding his foil aloft and ready to strike.
A gust of wind blew between them, carrying a single leaf that floated lazily to the ground. The moment it landed, both combatants moved simultaneously.
In the blink of an eye, Alexander, aided by the power of Zeus' thunder, raised his sword and slashed at Tom with lightning speed—too fast for the naked eye to follow.
"Clang!!!"
The sound of steel meeting steel echoed across the battlefield. Tom had easily thrust his foil forward, meeting Alexander's blade with pinpoint accuracy. The precision of the strike left Alexander momentarily stunned, his expression betraying his disbelief.
"This... this sword skill is far superior to my own!"
Not one to be deterred, Alexander quickly adjusted his grip, bringing his sword around for a diagonal slash. But again, it was in vain. Tom, still maintaining his casual and almost comedic stance, parried the strike with another seemingly random thrust, as if it required no effort at all.
Growing frustrated, Alexander unleashed a flurry of strikes, each faster and more powerful than the last. But no matter how ferocious his attacks, Tom countered every single one with ease. As the clash continued, the dynamic of the fight shifted, with Tom seizing the initiative.
Alexander, who was meant to be the aggressor, found himself retreating under the onslaught of Tom's relentless yet playful attacks.
Each time Alexander tried to press forward, Tom's precise and effortless counterattacks forced him back. Despite Tom's unassuming appearance and awkward stance, it was clear that his swordsmanship was on a completely different level.
The most infuriating part for Alexander was Tom's apparent lack of effort. He seemed to fight with nothing but basic thrusts, yet no matter how intricate or unpredictable Alexander's attacks were, Tom always neutralized them with ease.
Then, as if to add insult to injury, Tom suddenly tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and began deflecting Alexander's strikes without even looking. His smug expression made it clear that he was toying with his opponent, refusing to end the fight despite having the ability to do so at any moment.
Faced with Tom's silent mockery, Alexander felt his frustration boil over, his ears burning red with anger.
"You... who the hell are you?!" Alexander demanded, his once-joyful battle spirit replaced with shame. "I've never heard of a cat with such incredible swordsmanship!"
Tom seemed uninterested in responding. Instead, a glowing lightbulb suddenly appeared above his head, a clear signal that he had just had an idea.
Alexander froze, visibly startled by the sight of the floating bulb.
Tom grinned mischievously, pointing dramatically behind Alexander. Despite himself, and against his better judgment, Alexander turned to see what Tom was pointing at.
Seizing the opportunity, Tom smirked, stuck out his tongue, and tossed the foil aside. From seemingly nowhere, he produced an oversized cartoonish hammer. Without hesitation, he swung it at the back of Alexander's head with a resounding WHAM!
Alexander's body stiffened, his arms and legs shooting straight before he collapsed to the ground in a heap, completely unconscious.
With his opponent thoroughly dealt with, Tom brushed off imaginary dust from his hands and turned toward Elric Bradley, standing off to the side. With a triumphant grin, Tom raised a thumb high into the air.
It was as if he were saying, "It's done, boss!"