"THEN LET THE MATCH OF THE DAY...BEGIN!" The announcer shouted. A loud, sharp noise accompanied his declaration, the banging of a powerful instrument.
And with that....it began.
In a sudden burst of motion, King Tiger launched himself airborne, jumping several meters in a single bound. He did a flip, before forcefully kicking his legs downward, attempting to hit his opponent with a fierce, downward double kick. Law responded quickly, gracefully backstepping so that the muscular man's blow only stuck air. Before he could counterattack, however, King Tiger’s arm muscles bulged, the man landing on his hands on the ground before immediately launching himself into the air again, this time right toward his opponent. He shifted himself in mid-air, his feet stretched forward as he attempted to land a full-force drop kick against the monk. In response, the monk simply dodged at the last moment, sidestepping the attack the moment before it touched his skin.
"...He's wide open!" The monk thought. In the split second King Tiger’s body passed his own, mere milliseconds after he executed his dodge...he clenched his fist, his arm wrapping itself in a thin, yet potent layer of aura. Planting his feet solidly on the ground, he launched a quick punch toward the man, as he raced by him. Immediately, the blow had the intended effect, the muscular man's body loosening as he began to tumble into the air, falling on his back a few meters away.
"... Amateur..." The monk thought. It was over. A punch to the chin, combined with the added momentum of the man's own drop-kick, was a guaranteed knockout, the brain simply unable to withstand such a sudden jolt of force.
at least....that's what should have happened.
Gingerly, the helmeted man picked himself off the ground, rubbing his chin with his hand.
"That...******* smarts..." He muttered. The monk simply stared at the man as he stood to his feet, a brief burst of confusion spreading across his mind. It didn't matter how much the man had built up his muscles, he was still just a man. A blow of that caliber should have given him a concussion. Yet...he seemingly only escaped with a bruise. Yet, he hadn't used an aura either...
"...That bastard..." The monk muttered. There were only two possible explanations he could think of. Either he had mistimed the blow, something which had never happened in any of his years of fighting, or...
"...He shifted his chin at the last moment. The instant my fist connected, he must've moved his head in tandem with the blow, partially negating its force..." The monk thought. It was...a rather basic maneuver, in truth. But to do so with such timing...the man was clearly used to taking blows.
"...It seems he's more than just talk..." The monk thought to himself. Slowly, he returned to his stance, waiting for the man to recover.
It didn't take long.
Mere moments later, The King Tiger dashed towards him, feet leaving imprints on the ground with the force of his movements. His center of gravity was lowered, his arms outstretched. It was a tackle, an obvious one at that. It seemed subtly was not one of the muscular man's strong suits...
WHAM
The moment before the man's hands could wrap around his lower body, the monk raised his leg...before delivering a powerful roundhouse kick onto the man's head. His head bounced backward, recoiling from the sudden, intense blow...yet, he responded immediately. Clenching his fist, the muscular man immediately planted his feet on the ground, transitioning from his failed tackle into a powerful uppercut. Smooth as silk, the monk stepped backward, the fist missing him by mere inches. Slowly, he raised both hands....
POW
One hit, a left hook aimed at the man's liver. His aura pieced into the flesh like a knife, an agonizing amount of force slamming into the flesh organ within.
BAM
The second hit, a punch with his middle knuckle extended, aimed at the man's neck. His airway, completely cut off for a short, intense instant, any semblance of proper breath control.
SMASH
The third hit, a fierce kick, to the man's shin. It was a clean combination, one meant to disable a stronger opponent, before knocking them off balance in one, vicious instant, sending them writhing in pain on the floor. And he certainly would have succeeded against any average opponent.
And yet…
SLAM
The King Tiger planted his foot down, hard enough to leave a visible bootprint underneath his tread. He gasped for air, pain flaring from his injured flesh…and yet…
He did not kneel.
Clenching his fist, he launched a vicious left hook toward the man in front of him, the monk evading It by a hair with a lightning-quick backstep. Without skipping a beat, he raised his leg…
CRACK
In a vicious, absurdly fast gesture, one too quick for the audience to follow, he slammed his leg into the man’s ribs, the aura permeating to the flesh and rattling the bones below. King Tiger staggered, the man reeling from such an intense blow. Before he could counter however, the monk twisted on his heel, balancing his weight on the back of his foot as he spun to deliver another kick to the man’s temple, the impact rattling deep into his skull…and shaking the brain within.
“!!!!” King Tiger let out a ragged gasp, a wave of dizziness spreading across his body. And yet…The monk was not finished. As the muscular man was reeling from his last blow, he planted both feet on the ground. Slowly, he built up his aura around his palm, before…
BOOM
He SLAMMED his palm into the man’s ribs, the aura erupting from his strike in a manner akin to an explosion, enveloping both fighters in a shockwave of energy. An audible crack could be heard, the breaking of bone sounding out through the arena as King Tiger was launched several feet away, his back touching the ground for the second time since the fight began. His body lay in a crumpled heap…his eyes seemingly glazed over.
THAT WAS IT FOLKS! THE MONKS EXPLODING PALM HAS SENT HIS CHALLENGER CLEAN OFF HIS FEET! IT SEEMS THE KING TIGER IS NO MATCH FOR THE MONKS MASTERFUL MELEE!” The announcer shouted out. Noise erupted from the audience, cheers for the seemingly clear victor of the fight, and boos from people who had, regrettably, bet on the King Tiger. It was obvious in hindsight. The Mystical Monk had a much better record, and was clearly the better fighter. King Tiger may have snatched a few wins from some newcomers, and may have been lucky enough to beat a magical beast, but it’s clear that he was no match for a veteran fighter. As the staff moved to strike their instruments, announcing the round had been completed…something strange happened in the ring.
“….He’s like a cockroach…” Law muttered to himself, his eyes locked on the crumbled man a few yards away. Sure enough…he began to move. Slowly at first, but rapidly building up speed as he clawed at the ground below. In a few moments, he slammed both hands against the floor, his muscles bulging with exertion. With a mighty heave, he pushed himself airborne using arm strength alone, two, impossibly thick handprints imprinting themselves deep into the material below. He landed on his feet, his breath coming out a steady, even pants. Blood pooled in his mouth, the coppery taste staining his lips as it fell to the ground below. The damage was…quite obvious, yet…the man seemed to have no intention of throwing in the towel.
The Announcer…paused, His eyes staring down at the man with visible confusion.
“Erm…The…THE KING TIGER HAS…miraculously…STOOD BACK TO HIS FEET! THE MATCH IS STILL ON FOLKS!” He said. Though he scarcely believed it himself. The Exploding Palm was the technique the Monk always used to knock out his opponents. Most men who took it head-on were put into a coma…or worse. By all rights he should be carried out on a stretcher…and yet…
“YA HERE THAT?? THE KING TIGER’S STILL STANDING!!” The man shouted out from the arena floor, knocking the announcer from his thoughts. For some odd reason…the injured man flexed, striking a pose as if he wasn’t the one being pummeled. Noise erupted from the audience in response, a mixture of cheers, boos and jeers falling at the feet of the injured man below.
Law watched the spectacle, growing bored of the man’s constant antics.
“…You’d make for a good training dummy, I’ll give you that.” Law said. Slowly, he got into his stance again, gradually tensing his muscles.
“…I’ll hit you until you break.”
King Tiger flashed him a smirk, raising a tanned arm before slapping it against his chest.
“Give it ya best, bastard.” He said. With trembling legs, he lowered his center of gravity, ignoring the sharp, sudden pain that erupted from his left side with the movement. Slowly he breathed out, his hands outstretched, assuming his stance.
In the next instant, the Monk dashed forward, crossing the gap between them in a single breath. In the same instant, he coated his hand with aura before….
POW
A powerful straight, launched towards King Tiger’s nose, impacting the bone just above his mouth. It was a clean hit, fast enough that it shouldn’t have left him open to counterattack. Yet…the moment his fist connected…A pain shot through his entire arm, as if the man had struck the hardest of material. He flinched, his arm quickly retracting…yet, for a brief moment, he hesitated.
And that brief moment, was all King Tiger needed. He lifted an arm, stepping his lead leg forward…before…
POW
he slugged the man with all of his strength, his arm muscles bulging as he launched a single, soul-shattering punch. The monk staggered, gritting his teeth as the fist impacted his chest. Without skipping a beat, however, King Tiger clenched his right fist, delivering another powerful blow to the man’s chest.
And another, and another, and another.
They were full-body blows, ones thrown using nothing but muscle strength alone. They weren’t nearly as damaging as they look but….
“T-the hell?!” Law thought. He attempted to throw up his guard, attempted to dodge the attacks yet…he couldn’t. Each blow was akin to a wave crashing onto his body, throwing off his center of balance with every hit. Even Law, someone who could balance all of his weight with nothing but a single toe, could scarcely regain his footing as he was showered with blow after blow.
They were push punches, blows King Tiger used to stun rather than damage. Effectively a series of close-fisted shoves that couldn’t be negated by conventional tactics. The trick was actually extremely basic, something even a playground bully could come up with. The man called King Tiger couldn’t hope to develop any more advanced techniques. But…it didn’t matter.
Muscle strength closed the gap. Even a basic application of strength can prove effective, with enough explosive muscle power behind it. But…such a trick would only work for an instant against such a skillful foe. Only a few moments after the barrage of punches began, the monk twisted his body towards the ground, letting himself fall back onto the ground below, dodging the last punch mere millimeters before it could land against his body. Placing a hand upon the ground as he landed, he spun on his palms before:
CRACK
a fierce kick landed against King Tigers' jaw, amplified by the torque of his sudden spin. the familiar crack of broken bone echoed across the arena…
Yet it wasn’t the King Tiger’s bone that had shattered.
The monk let out a sharp, exhale of breath, his heel erupting in sudden, searing pain, quickly, he rolled onto his back, before jumping to his feet, gritting his teeth as his weight settled upon the cracked bone. King Tiger took a step back, a visible bruise beginning to form on the area he had been kicked.
“…You…bastard…” The Monk thought. He had figured it out. Figured out why he had hurt his fist with his last punch, and why his heel had shattered after kicking him.
At the last moment, the instant before he had been struck, he had covered his chin in an absurdly thick layer of aura, while simultaneously slamming his own body into the blow. The result was akin to if he had struck a sturdy hammer in motion, his body breaking under the weight of the sudden, unexpected force. It was simple. An absurdly simple trick in theory, any novice could shield themselves with their aura…but…why would he let himself be attacked so often in the match, with that type of counter? Was he simply holding back? Or….
Was it that he couldn’t?
The monk gritted his teeth, his fists clenched until the white of his knuckles flashed beneath the skin. It didn’t matter. The fool had broken his heel…and he would pay dearly for it. He took a slow breath, calming his nerves. If he couldn’t strike the man normally… he would simply rely on his aura to do the damage. His Exploding Palm was a powerful technique, but to use it at full power, he would need to expend a massive amount of aura, just as he had done with his initial strike. He would need to lower it’s output, enough to still pierce through the man’s impossibly muscular hide while conserving his own stamina. The King Tiger may be hardy…
but he wasn’t invulnerable.
Only a mere instant after he had gotten to his feet, he rushed back towards the muscular man, his movements notably slower than before. Unclenching his fist, he unleashed a vicious palm strike onto the man’s chest, accompanied by the familiar Boom of his aura exploding against the man’s chest. King Tiger responded in kind, slamming his fist against the man’s side the same instant his palm had connected, both fighters stumbling backward from the respective impacts.
BOOM
POW
BOOM
POW
In a flurry of blows, the two fighters exchanged fists and palm strikes, blood flowing from bruised flesh as the two fighters wailed on eachother. These were no push punches, not anymore, the King Tiger throwing all of his weight into driving as much force as he could into the other man’s body. The Monk had the clear lead in blows, his palm connecting time and time again…
But exchanging blows was King Tiger’s forte. And thus…for the second time in the fight…
The Mystical Monk was being overwhelmed. With one last, powerful strike, he gathered up all of his remaining aura, attempting to finish the muscular man off in one burst. The moment before he could launch the attack, however…two muscular hands arms wrapped around his waist.
“….What?” The Monk thought.
In an instant, he was lifted upward, the muscular man throwing all of his strength into one single, soul-shattering throw. He arched his back, bending his knees…
Before SLAMMING the monk onto the ground, the ground cracking apart and breaking as the sound of flesh against cobblestone echoed across the land.
A front suplex, its strength amplified by their combined weight, King Tiger’s own, explosive muscle power, and gravity itself….
An unavoidable concussion.
“…I-impossible…” The Monk thought. He stared upward, his broken body twitching and writhing, as if attempting to stand to his feet. King Tiger simply collapsed onto his knees, staring down at his opponent.
“…Your…really damn strong, ya know that?” The man muttered. The Monk said nothing, glaring into the man’s gaze until he mercifully lost consciousness.
The announcer stared down at the two fighters…dumbfounded. For a few moments, he went silent, before grabbing the magic orb, and putting it to his mouth.
“WHAT AN UPSET! THE KING TIGER HAS MANAGED TO WETHER THE MONK'S BARRAGE OF TECHNIQUES, SNATCHING VICTORY FROM HIS GRASP!” The Announcer roared. The audience echoed his excitement, cheers erupting from the stands as the injured fighter slowly got to his feet…raising a single fist in the air.
