The Superior Rebirth: A Hero's Awakening

I am....

Their battle raged on. Each clash of their fists canceled the other out, neither landing a decisive hit. They were equals—for now.

Every strike found its counter, a rhythm of destruction between them. Julius smirked, his voice taunting yet calm. "You seem to be well taught in martial arts. Impressive, for someone of your caliber."

Aleksander raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or not."

"It is."

Aleksander chuckled, catching Julius' fist that came flying at blinding speed. His grip tightened as he replied, "You're not bad yourself—better than anyone I've fought before. But make no mistake. You are not my equal. Don't fool yourself."

In an instant, his fist shot forward, blazing like a miniature sun. Julius barely registered the movement before the strike slammed into him, sending him hurtling across the battlefield like a shooting star. He crashed through the ground violently, his nose streaming blood, his jaw mangled and twisted—yet in seconds, his body regenerated, returning to its untouched state.

Aleksander gave him no time to recover. He charged, lightning in his step, and slammed a kick into Julius' side. But Julius latched onto his leg with brute force, twisting violently before slamming Aleksander into the ground. The impact cracked the earth beneath them, yet Aleksander twisted his body mid-fall, whipping a counter-kick across Julius' face that sent him reeling.

Aleksander's leg healed instantly, glowing faintly with Divine Lionheart: Radiant Healing. He surged forward, fists blurring into an onslaught. Each strike was impossibly fast, sharp, and precise, crashing into Julius' flesh like bullets. The blows rained down in silence, merciless and unrelenting. Julius stumbled under the storm.

He tried to retaliate with a desperate punch, but Aleksander slipped past it with ease. A violent stomp shattered the ground, energy boiling upward like a volcanic eruption, throwing Julius off balance. Aleksander's arms flowed with eerie grace, like leaves caught in the wind, before a flurry of invisible strikes pummeled Julius. A two-handed palm strike then exploded into his abdomen with catastrophic force, shattering ribs, twisting organs, and launching him across the ruined city like a fired arrow.

Julius smashed through walls and stone, but through the pain, his lips curled into a grin. He was enjoying this. The battle awakened something deep within him—an intoxicating hunger for combat that burned brighter than any wound.

He finally halted his flight, clawing into the ground until his momentum died. Panting, he scanned his surroundings. "Where did he go?" His gaze flicked sharply, his senses spread wide, but Aleksander's presence had vanished. "Playing tricks with me, are yo—"

Before he could finish, a palm slammed his head into the ground with brutal force. Aleksander loomed over him, ready to follow through—but then froze.

His arm had been severed.

Aleksander's eyes widened as his left arm fell away, cleaved by something unseen. He couldn't sense it. He hadn't even glimpsed it. What had just cut him?

Julius rammed an elbow into his side, breaking free of his grip and vanishing instantly. Then came the pain—slashes tearing into Aleksander's flesh, one across his chest, another across his cheek.

"Did I ruin your pretty face?" Julius taunted as he reappeared, boot connecting with Aleksander's ribs in a brutal kick. He grinned mockingly. "My apologies."

Aleksander didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, his gaze cold. Julius sneered. "Still unfazed, even when you can't see my attacks? Then let's see how much more you can take!"