There was about five meters between them, but Roswaal, cloaked in wind, closed the gap in a single breath. His target was his opponent’s torso, which was remarkable in terms of speed. His muscles were tough as armor, but if the impact passed through the gaps, his internal organs would be easy pickings.
A single strike that dealt a crushing blow to the internal organs behind the muscle—it was a technique called fa jin that he’d learned two generations ago. In order to deliver the blow, Roswaal placed his palm on his opponent’s stomach, and—
“Hah!” The strike made contact at the same time he stepped, and the blowback passed behind him. The wind born from it blew away the dirt in the alley, and a sensation ricocheted back through his entire body.
The power with which it tore through his internal organs easily sapped the strength from the two legs supporting his massive frame. Naturally, without any support for his body, it gave out…and yet, he remained standing.
“What?” Roswaal uttered in surprise.
“Ah, crap… That hurt, you lanky brat.” With the assumption that he’d fall having failed, the man clicked his tongue and grit his back teeth in frustration. Seeing this, Roswaal gulped. It wasn’t that he had dissipated the impact with some special technique. He simply endured it with an insane level of tenacity.
His eyes bulged at this revelation, when the man jerked his body widely, unleashing his fists. The single blow, clothed in a mighty wind, struck the petrified Roswaal in the gut with a devastating impact.
“…Gah.” Blown back, Roswaal slammed into a wall. His head spun. Before he even realized what had happened, his senses started to fade…
“…Crap, I’m not done. How pathetic…”
With those final words of self-resentment, he completely lost consciousness.