"Are the two of you ready?" Zarnak asked Grey and Waylon. The two of them nodded.
They were standing on the opposite sides of the platform. Waylon stood with a condescending smile plastered on his face, without taking his stance, as if Grey was not an opponent he needs to be so serious about.
Meanwhile Grey stood with his arms raised forward, right leg stretched backwards with the knees bent. Ready to take him on.
"Begin!"
Right after Zarnak roared for them to start, Waylon dashed towards Grey. The spectating crowd were shocked seeing him move so fast, almost disappearing from sight.
Grey on the other hand, his eyes opened wide in shock, surprise written all over his face, not because Waylon dashed so fast towards him, but rather he was too slow.
His demonic eyes were seeing Waylon move in slow motion, as if time had slowed down for him.
"I'll gain too much attention if I end it in a single strike. Let's evade two or three of his strikes, struggle a bit and then I'll end it within four moves." Grey convinced himself.
Considering Waylon's stats and the effects of his demonic eyes, Grey realized that his prowess had jumped up quite high a level. If he ends this duel too fast, suspicions will arise regarding his power up, within such a short time.
Waylon arrived in front of Grey. His fingers were covered with a dark-grey, smoke like aura, as a claw strike rushed towards Grey's face.
Grey sighed helplessly, just at the nick of time, when the claw was about to hit, he moved sideways, evading the strike by a hair's breath.
Grey jumped back, creating distance between him and Waylon. But Waylon chased him almost immediately. Another claw strike coming at him.
Grey evaded again, he then moved his fist forward for a punch, trying his best so that it doesn't connect.
Waylon moved sideways. Grey's fist passed through, miles away from his face.
"Tch!" Grey clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"You think hitting me would be that easy? You won't be able to even touch me." Waylon laughed, mocking Grey, seeing him frustrated at being unable to hit him.
"Shit! This is too frustrating! Trying so hard not to hit when his face is static like a dummy."
Waylon was laughing mockingly, thinking Grey was annoyed at being unable to land his punch, but here he was, trying his best so that his punch doesn't land by mistake.
The two of them kept throwing punches and claw strikes at each other, and evading each other's strikes. After almost more than twenty exchanges, Waylon was starting to get annoyed.
Grey had not landed a single hit on him, but what surprised him though, no matter what he tried, Grey would always evade at the last moment, saved by an inch.
"What the hell is Waylon doing? How long will he play with him?" Carson's lackey, Talon, seated beside him said, annoyed at the duel being dragged on.
"Tell him to end it fast." Carson said, his brows furrowed with annoyance.
The lackey nodded. He then pressed the side of his forehead with left index and middle finger. He closed his eyes and focused.
"Waylon! End this fast!" Waylon heard Talon's voice inside his mind. He realized instantly that this was Talon's origin skill, telepathy.
He turned his head towards Carson, seeing him annoyed and dissatisfied with him.
"Fuck! It's not like I'm purposefully dragging this on. He is the most slippery bastard I've ever seen." Waylon thought. He realized Carson was getting annoyed, this duel had dragged on for too long, he himself was losing patience.
Unable to think of anything, he decided to use the universal trick in the books of the bullies, trying to make the other one lose focus by fanning his anger with personal attacks on his old wounds.
"What's the matter Grey? Do you only know how to run around and evade my attacks?"
"Well, what can be expected from an orphan, you'll always be a pussy, just like your mama who abandoned you." Waylon mocked with a wide smirk on his face.
Grey's face fell instantly, black lines appeared on his forehead, his brows furrowed. Waylon had just touched his reverse scale.
Grey was not an orphan just in this life, but also while he was Austin on earth. He could take any insults directed at him, but for him, insulting his mother was pure taboo. That's the threshold that keeps his mind sane, crossing that invites the beast inside of him to take over.
He evaded Waylon's claw strike and jumped back as he slid along the floor backwards, coming to a stop after a few meters.
He then stood motionless with his fists clenched hard. "Congratulations on infuriating me. If I evade a single attack of yours from now, then I'll cut my head and throw it on your feet." Grey's voice became hoarse, eyes red with fury.
Red aura, like steam rising up, crawled out of his skin. His hair started rising up, swaying up without the wind. Red hot smoke came out of his mouth with an exhale.
"Hahahaha! Die you fucker!" Waylon Jumped towards Grey, his claw swinging right towards his face.
Right before his claw strike Could hit, Grey held his arm in place. Waylon was shocked, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move his arm forward. It was like his arm had stuck in the air, not moving a single inch.
"Good luck surviving fucker."
Grey begun the ferocious rotation, a whirlwind of controlled aggression designed to multiply the power of his blow.
His left foot planted firmly, acting as the pivot, while his right leg drove the motion up through his hips. The air around him seemed to crackle with the kinetic energy he was generating with the red aura encasing him.
His jacket stretched tout across his shoulders as his torso twisted, and his right arm like a bullet released from the barrel, zoomed towards Waylon's belly, arm twisting a full circle, leading to a full-body transfer of momentum, focused entirely into the hook.
"Spinning hook."
THWUMP!!
Waylon was peeled off the floor, launching backwards as a dead weight. He was a projectile, his body briefly leaving a vapor trail as he traversed the distance. He didn't just hit the wall, he got leveled, plastered inside.
Spiderweb of cracks spread out from his slumped form. Dust and stone exploded outwards in a cloud.
Grey didn't flinch. He was already back on balance, standing tall. His chest rising and falling deep, measured breaths as he looked at the unconscious Waylon bleeding all over, fixed inside the wall.
All the mouths at the spectator's end; were opened wide, jaw almost touching the floor. Even Carson and Elena looked stunned.
The corner of Thorgar's lips were all the way up. He was grinning from ear to ear. The unimaginable and the impossible had happened just now.
History had been created as for the first time, someone from the C class had defeated an A class student in a duel, overwhelmingly at that, with a single punch.
And he was called Grey Silverthorne.