Both the Rehinoceros and Vacuros stood opposite each other, tension crackling in the air like a brewing storm. The Rehinoceros' eyes gleamed with the sly confidence of a predator that had successfully cornered its prey, while Vacuros scanned his surroundings, his gaze sharp and calculating, like a soldier navigating the perils of enemy territory. Every muscle in his body coiled with caution as he followed his instincts, refusing to succumb to any disadvantage.
The big guy, not wanting to get hit, lunged forward first with massive steps that echoed over the green vegetation like rams of war on taut, stretched-out drums. Now closing in on his opponent, he clenched his right fist, so full of power, and was just about to strike, but all of a sudden his feet stopped. Looking down with his head bent, there they were-the cause of the obstruction-twining veins, crossed tight about his ankles, holding fast.
Desperate to be free, he felt a sudden lash of the twisted grass come around his raised fist, coiling around like a serpent coiling its prey. He tried using his left hand for support, but with a cunning guile, the Rehinoceros struck again. More vines snaked out, entangling his second hand and then his neck, pinning him down as if the earth itself sought to subdue him. The binding traps clamped down tighter, sending sharp, fiery pain coursing through his body.
Hmmm," he grunted, his teeth gritted in a deep voice of determination, showing the resolve of a hero who had to bear indescribable torment, yet refused to cry out. As he resisted their pull, a memory seemed to flash through his brain like a lightning bolt, his purpose-the burning ambition to be the strongest of all. And this thought poured determination anew into him and fueled him, like a warrior reclaiming his honor on a battlefield.
With one final surge of effort, Vacuros began to rip his way through the veins that bound him. It was like a contest of wills-one between a determined giant and the iron grip of nature. He freed his right hand, then his left, and with a final heave forward, he tore both hands upwards, ripping the vine choking his neck apart, the crackling of the material sounding like the announcement of his freedom.
The Rehinoceros, out of wits, quickly raised two more vine-like grasses from his left and right. They whipped at Vacuros with deadly precision, looking to ensnare him once more. But enraged, Vacuros intercepted the four whipping vines with his hands, his movements quick and precise. He brought all the vines into his left hand and began spinning them, twisting and tangling them into a deadly snare.
It was in a vengeful predator-like precision that he managed to trap the Rehinoceros' neck within the vines of its home and laced his movements with fury and disdain. "You low creature dare to look down on me," he growled in, his voice rumbled authority, like a king on his throne.
He then yanked the vine he clutched in his left hand, taut and choking, like a noose pulled tight around the neck of this Rehinoceros. He yanked with all his might, pulling the beast off the ground and tearing the vines from the earth, as if from the very foundation of its being.
The Rehinoceros helplessly soared toward him, with its weight no match for the sheer force Vacuros unleashed. As it flew closer, he clenched his right fist with a rage so palpable that it seemed to ignite the very air around him. "Titanic Void Fist: Triple Impact," he declared, his voice echoing like a battle cry that shook the heavens.
The technique, a masterpiece crafted by Umbrazel himself, channeled the force of Vacuros' punch through the fabric of space. The Void amplified the strike, delivering a devastating triple-layered impact that struck with ruthless precision. As Vacuros' fist connected, the force tore a massive hole through the Rehinoceros' abdomen, his hand momentarily lodged in the carnage.
Rer. rrr. rrr," the Rehinoceros bleated weakly, his voice sputtering and dying like an engine stalling to a halt. Grimly determined, Vacuros pulled his hand free and grasped the creature's head by its horn with his left hand while his right hand secured its body. In one brutal motion, he tore the head from the neck, blood spraying like golden ribbons.
Casting the lifeless body aside, he seized the severed head with both hands. In a surge of raw power, he cleaved it in two, his actions as sure as they were ruthless. He drew out the essentia crystal nestled within, its glow faintly illuminating his bloodied hands. Throwing the shattered remnants of the head aside without a second glance as he carefully rubbed the crystal clean, smearing away the dirt with deliberate strokes.
He continued navigating through the thick grassland, his focus fixed on the glowing crystal in his hand, its faint light reflecting off his hardened expression. Each movement was calculated, his feet brushing aside the wild, waist-high grass with every step.
The landscape began to shift as the moments passed, the open expanse of grass replaced by a dense forest of towering, thickened trees. Each tree loomed into the sky, their thick, wide leaves as leather and a deep, unnatural hue of red. The oppressive feel of the forest weighed him down, but Vacuros paid little attention to the peculiarities around him.
The crunch of leaves, the crack of broken branches beneath his barefoot echoed through the still air, each sound sharp and deliberate. The rhythmic rustling created an almost hypnotic cadence, broken suddenly by a strange, guttural sound that tore through the silence from his left.
"Mooorrrrrr."
He froze mid-step, his body rigid as his ears strained to catch the noise again. His gaze widened, the faintest glint of caution flashing through his eyes as he turned slowly toward the source. Emerging from the shadows of the forest, a herd of Rehinoceros revealed themselves-twenty-four in total, their hulking forms gleaming faintly under the filtered crimson light of the canopy.
Every one of them gave off an energy of primal vigor, strength apparent even from afar. In front of the herd stood a giant Ascendant Realm Rehinoceros, its body towering above the others, staring with piercing eyes at Vacuros with the weight of a thousand challenges.
No one needed to tell him that something was wrong. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the weight of impending conflict. Hum," Vacuros grumbled, low and almost amused, his pride swelling like a tide of primordial proportions inside his chest.
A slight smirk curled upon his lips as his stance shifted instinctively, feet wide and square on the forest floor, hands raised, fists clenched. The air around him seemed to tighten, body coiled, ready to strike-a predator standing against the storm. Every muscle in his body was taut, every fiber tensed and ready to unleash its fabled strength at any moment.