166 A Sacrifice for the Future (1/2)
*Well, this feels quite familiar.*
Just like he had done a year ago, Corco stood in front of a spoiled young master who styled himself as a great warrior. Just the same, there was a ring of spectators around him who expected him to lose. He wasn't even that much of a fighter. Why did he always end up in these weird positions?
”Although you have a large mouth, in the end you still lack the resolve of a cultivator. Since you are not man enough to fight this saint at his best, we will do so without weapons.”
While he spoke, Swordsaint Tlaloc pulled out his blade and handed it over to one of his disciples, who received it in great awe. Just like Pacha, the saint kept his long, cumbersome sleeves down and still had his robe on.
*The same arrogance as well. Let's see if they also bleed the same.*
”No matter what you say, I don't even have a sword. How could a fight with weapons ever be fair?” Corco played fearful.
Even when the king insisted on no weapons, the saint held a smile of absolute confidence on his face.
”This saint would not mind if you borrowed a weapon from his disciples, apprentice. What do you say boy, do you wish to fight like a man?”
”And entrust my life to a weapon I have never used before, one potentially tampered with by your men?”
At first Tlaloc frowned, but his smile soon returned. No wonder, since it was easy to pretend grace when one believed to be in an insurmountable position.
*Let's see how long you can keep up that grin of yours once I smash your face in.*
”Of course, this saint understands if you have reservations, young man. If nothing else, it is commendable that you would stand up for your master like this. Thus, there is no need to fight to the death, is there? How could a fight to the death even happen without weapons?”
As his own smile widened, Corco thought about the daggers and pistols still hidden all over his body. Killing this 'saint' would be easy, but he had to find the right moment. Still, if the young master was so worried about his reputation that he wanted to go easy on Corco, the king wouldn't mind. A weaker enemy would give him more room for error.
”True. This apprentice thanks saint for his leniency.”
Although he talked about leniency, Corco had no illusions. The disciples of the sword saint still surrounded the entire plaza. This hardly looked like the actions of someone who wanted to give him a mere slap on the wrist. If Corco lost here, death wouldn't be the worst possible outcome.
”In that case, ready yourself, young man. Here comes this saint's first strike.”
With an eerie leisure, Tlaloc sauntered forward, his hands low to his sides. Halfway to Corco's position, the saint raised his arms, ready for a punch. However, Corco never let the man's hip out of his sight.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click visiting.
*Too predictable.*
Before the kick could hit him, Corco raised up his arms to protect his mid-section. He followed the force and stumbled to the side to take away the impact. His hands tingled a bit, but it wasn't a big deal. Although the hit was as hard as could be expected of an accomplished cultivator, it wasn't a power he hadn't felt in his training with Atau of Fadelio. Those guys hit much harder than this so-called saint.
”That was no strike, saint!” Corco shouted in fake indignation. Meanwhile, the great saint stood there, proud of his cheap trick and Corco's apparent weakness.
”Haha, a real cultivator always has to be prepared for all eventualities. Still, it is commendable that you managed to protect yourself despite that. It appears not all your words were lies.” As if he was trying to convince the crowd that most of them were, the saint's eyes ran through the plaza, rather than focus on his enemy. ”This saint will teach you the basics of cultivator com-”
While the idiot still showed off, Corco rushed to his unprepared enemy. Before he had realized, Tlaloc's legs had been tackled. His composure all gone, the cultivator thrashed at Corco's back, but with a low shout, the young king flipped his opponent to the ground. Now he could do what he had done to Pacha: Mount and smash the arrogant fuck's face in.
But when he tried to roll onto his enemy, he only managed a sloppy half-mount. In the short time he had been given, Tlaloc had managed to compose himself and move into a sitting position.
*Bad.*
When the first punch hit his shoulder, Corco knew he was in a bad position. Without hesitation, he gave up his position. He rolled to the side and off his enemy. Although he could try to trap the legs, Tlaloc's arms were totally free by now. He wasn't sure how many strikes he could take to the back of his head, but he was in no mood to find out... and he needed that head for a lot of other things in the future.
When he stood back up, the king got in a stance right away, and his enemy had done the same.
”Bastard!” Tlaloc shouted.
”Right back at you. How about 'A real cultivator needs to stay focused' as an excuse for my shameless attack? Let's just cut the bullshit and fight. How about it?”
”Very well.”
His face scrunched up, the young master rolled up his sleeves and got into a proper fighting stance for the first time. As he did so, his eyes never left Corco, who leisurely waited for his enemy. Now that both of them had tried and failed sneak attacks, there would be little point in any more, and Corco had his own pride. When the saint came forward again, it was with entirely different purpose. Still, the attack was the same.
*Another mid-kick. Predictable.*
Again Corco blocked, and backed up a bit. Although the kicks seemed impressive, the damage was minimal so long as he blocked with his arm. The next time, Corco decided to step up the pressure.
*Third one.*