The aggressor took a step back. The pain in his gut Slowly setting in.
"AAAH!" He looked down and realized what had happened. It was a feint! Orion had tricked the man by pretending to be weak, and when the aggressor dropped his guard and charged, Orion drove the knife into his stomach with precision. His organs... Were his organs even intact?
The man spat blood.
It didn't seem so. The aggressor shuddered.
Meanwhile, Orion let out a sigh of relief. He had won—for real this time. He was victorious. Winning felt good, even if he'd taken way more damage than he was comfortable with. He allowed himself to relax.
But Orion had made a mistake.
In the back alleys, Orion had always fought for food, for water, sometimes for a place to sleep. In those cases, there was a pattern he hadn't stopped to consider until now. Every fight he'd ever been in had a purpose—something to gain. The moment someone got what they wanted, the fight lost its meaning. Get it? The goal was never the fight itself.
But this time was different. There was no "prize" to be won here. In fact, the only thing to be taken here was the enemy's life.
Stopping just because he got stabbed in the gut? Why? What a ridiculous thought!
Of course, if he could still move, he could still fight.
Orion... hadn't accounted for that.
In his mind, this fight was just a test of his combat skills, and he'd passed. He'd landed a critical hit on his enemy. But humans had one small biological quirk—they were ridiculously resilient. A dagger in the gut? He still had a heart, two arms, legs, and most importantly: a brain. He was more than ready to keep fighting.
But, of course, Orion didn't know any of that. He was just sitting on the ground, mustering the will to stand. His earlier feint—the one where he'd stabbed the aggressor—hadn't been entirely... fake. When Orion struck the man's wrist, he'd actually shattered his own knee in the process. The kneecap had splintered, and with his last lunge against the aggressor, it had completely shattered.
But as he relaxed for just a moment, Orion heard the sound of flesh being torn.
SQUEEELCH
Orion frowned, his face twisting in a mix of frustration and anger. Because when he looked up, he saw the aggressor slowly pulling the knife out of his own stomach, hot blood dripping from the blade's edge and pooling on the ground.
Now... there was really no way out.
He sighed.
'Well... fuck.'
Orion had to get up. He had to. Staying down meant death. If he wanted to survive, he'd have to stand and start the fight all over again. But in those brief moments of respite, the adrenaline had faded, and the pain from his gamble was creeping in. His leg burned like never before, his chest felt like it was about to explode, and the arm he'd used to block the man's strike refused to move.
Now, Orion was completely and utterly defenseless.
But he didn't panic. Instead, he ignored the pain, and even with his kneecap destroyed, Orion forced himself to stand. His muscles flexed around the shattered bone, bending his leg unnaturally and locking it into place.
Orion's eyes burned with a fierce orange light.
In the distance, Ashka was playing mediator, releasing his aura to subtly calm the citizens watching the scene. Needless to say, he was doing a terrible job. But the ration distribution continued as "normal."
As he soothed the crowd, Ashka kept a meticulous eye on the fight happening just meters away. To be honest, he was impressed. Orion wasn't the worst. In fact, compared to that "Piece of Trash" aspiring Sparkling, Orion was superior in combat sense. He only lagged in raw physical ability, mental experience, and spiritual density. Watching Orion shatter his own knee just to steal the man's dagger had been... interesting. A clever move, but so fucking stupid. Why sacrifice so much just for a knife? The clothes-as-a-rope trick was smart, but why not just strangle him? Lack of confidence in his own strength? Maybe. But judging by the way Orion moved, the way he wasted breath on unnecessary motions...
The boy's inexperience was obvious. He couldn't join the expedition after all.
'What am I thinking? Of course he's not coming. That was the point from the start!' Ashka laughed to himself. All that was left now was to wait for the man to stab Orion. Then he'd step in and end this little game. The kid's injuries could always be patched up later by Dina.
Then Ashka heard footsteps approaching. He glanced over and saw three figures in armor made of metal bandages walking toward him.
"Sparkling! Why is there a child fighting an armed criminal?!" The lead man—clearly the leader—spoke with indignant authority.
Ashka couldn't care less about the man's posturing, but he played along.
"Just training. He's prepping for the expedition."
The leader raised an eyebrow. "Expedition...?" Then his eyes widened in recognition. "So it's you... Ashka of Commando..." His tone shifted, though he kept an edge of authority. "This child... is part of your team?"
"That's the plan," Ashka said.
"I see... Still, I must ask you to move this 'training' elsewhere. There are civilians here. They could—"
Ashka tuned him out, the man's voice fading into background noise as he refocused on the fight. And that's when he noticed the shift.
Orion... was standing. No, not just standing—he was in a stance. How the hell was he even upright with a busted knee?
The aggressor charged again, slashing at Orion's neck. But at the last second, Orion twisted aside—and retaliated with a punch.
And instantly, the tides turned.
Orion's fist connected with a loud CRACK, like something inside the aggressor's chest had given way, followed by a hollow BWOOOM, as if the air itself had been crushed between the two bodies. The aggressor spat blood and was hurled backward, landing hard on the ground. He groaned, coughing up more blood as he clutched the wound in his gut, gaping wider now.
The moment the punch landed, Orion's arm trembled. Skin split, blood gushing from the fresh tears. His stance collapsed, his arm hanging limp at his side.
Orion exhaled in relief.
"Aaah~! Now that's more like it. Pure force. No more tricks. I prefer it this way." He let out a hearty laugh before advancing again.
What Orion had done, in essence, was gamble. He'd used sheer will to flex the muscles around his heart, forcibly redirecting blood flow to his right arm. The muscles, flooded with blood, swelled to a third of their normal size. And when the aggressor struck, Orion had dodged and thrown a punch with 30% more power than a normal human should've been capable of. For the aggressor—an aspiring Sparkling—it was like taking a hit from someone of equal or greater strength.
Of course, Orion had no clue about any of that.
But just because it wasn't impossible didn't mean it was possible. Biological limits were still limits
So how had Orion done it?
No fucking idea.