Zain stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving. The once-lush forest was a charnel ground, splinters and ash the only remnants of the brutal conflict. Smoldering tree stumps and scorch marks painted a grim tableau of destruction. The air, thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood, clung to his tattered black combat uniform. He'd been through hell.
The battlefield was eerily silent, broken only by the crackling embers and the crunch of boots on the pulverized earth. Thirteen generals remained, each a formidable opponent. He'd already put two down, but that just made the rest of these bastards more cautious. Their eyes, hardened by countless battles, held a flicker of something else – fear.
Zain's breathing slowed, but even as he braced for the next attack, his body moved on its own. A long sword sliced through the air where he'd been standing moments before, the polished blade gleaming menacingly before burying itself in the ravaged earth. Dust and debris erupted from the impact.
"Mmph," Ching Ba grunted, his eyes narrowing as he swiftly retracted his blade.
That was all Zain needed. Before Ching Ba could recover, Zain's left foot lashed out with blinding speed. The back of his shoe connected with Ching Ba's face, the impact echoing like a gunshot. Ching Ba's handsome features contorted in a mask of shock and pain before he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Fucking amateur.
The other generals stiffened, their grips on their weapons tightening. "Shit," one muttered.
"He's fighting purely on instinct," another hissed under his breath.
Zain's eyes burned with an eerie green fire, radiating lethal intent. Every fiber of his being screamed danger. It was a risky way to fight – everyone knew that. Martial artists and rankers understood that losing yourself to instinct could be a death sentence. But Zain… Zain was different. His body had internalized these skills to the point where instinct and technique were indistinguishable.
"In the world of martial arts and ranking," one of the generals said through the comms, his voice calm yet laced with unease, "it's considered suicidal to rely on instinct. But if one's body has completely absorbed combat techniques…"
"What the hell are you trying to say?" another snapped.
Before he could answer, the ground began to tremble violently.
A deafening explosion ripped through the battlefield, a monstrous roar that shook the very air. A blinding white flash engulfed everything, transforming the world into a realm of pure light. The force of the blast sent shockwaves rippling outwards, hurling debris in all directions.
For a fleeting moment, there was nothing. No time, no sound, no thought.
Then, just as suddenly, the light vanished.
The battlefield was gone.
the generals found themselves standing in a lobby. The transition was so abrupt that it took them all a few seconds to process the change.
Their breaths were ragged, their minds struggling to catch up. Some looked around in confusion, while others remained stoic, their expressions unreadable.
One thing was clear, though.
This fight over. "What the fuck…?" one of the generals breathed.
***
To my dear reader
I under the whether at the moment hence the decline in chapters updated regularly but if you motivate through a comment I would really be glad.
Yours sincerely.
Young prime