Chapter 234: Chapter 211 : Martial Grandmaster Vs Combat Master (Part 1)

The fighters zoomed towards each other, their rapid dash stirring hearts and stirring winds alike. To unenhanced eyes, the two would appear as no more than blurs, noisy blurs at that, their flapping fabrics echoing a whip-like note.

Lamar reached the centre first and was content to stay there, opting to adjust his posture to receive his opponent’s attack. Ralf didn’t let him wait long, appearing a blink of an eye later.

Leading with his right shoulder, the Transmigrator darted in with his body low to the ground. His form was scrunched up like that of a wound-up coil, with both hands near his chest cringed up like a beast's claws. Once near his opponent, his body shot upwards while veering rightward. As it did, his left arm quickly filled with tension and his left hand balled itself into a fist.

But as a left straight seemed inevitable, Ralf snapped his body counterclockwise to deliver a lightning-quick right jab. The switch-up was simple but deadly. The fist shot towards Lamar’s face but the Martial Grandmaster was one step ahead - or rather behind. Not breaking his stance, he simply took a backstep to put himself out of range.

Ralf wasn’t done though. He didn’t pull back his fist but instead used it as a pivot point, dropping his body while shifting forward into a sideways stance. Then, with his right arm at a right angle, he fired off a vortex-like right punch while simultaneously throwing out his left hand in the opposite direction to maximise force.

The fist raced towards Lamar’s stomach but again, the Martial Grandmaster was too nimble, cleanly sidestepping the attack while shifting back.

Ralf didn’t slow up, transitioning into the next sequence without delay. He shifted rightward while maintaining a low stance, lining himself up with Lamar’s new position before shooting up to fire off a high sideways kick to the other's chest.

*Bam*

The kick proved too swift to dodge and forced Lamar to raise his arms in an ‘x’ shaped guard. Already moving back, most of the attack’s power was lost to him. The Martial Grandmaster received it without issue before putting some distance between himself and his opponent.

‘Anzi huh…interesting interesting.'

Ralf’s three-pronged attack was Anzi’s 1st kata, move for move. As Lamar registered this, he couldn’t help but smirk. He would chuckle at the fact but his opponent wasn’t too accommodating. After failing with the first kata, Ralf charged in to try his hand with another one.

His fists and kicks flew in an all too familiar manner, replicating the attacks with sublime precision. Lamar maintained his defensive/evasive stance; he zigzagged about, mostly bobbing and weaving while occasionally blocking when he had to.

3rd kata, 5th kata, 6th kata, 2nd kata…

Failing with all other katas, Ralf moved to execute Anzi’s 4th kata. There were six moves in total and like the other katas, it had a water-like flow between movements.

Within this flood, Lamar’s thoughts were casual, playful even.

‘Hmm…now? Now? Now? Now - oh, there it is.’

The 4th kata’s second-to-last move was a punch but that wasn’t what Ralf threw. Rather, he kicked. This deviation wasn’t a memory issue but his tactic all along. His opponent was clearly familiar with the Anzi katas. Understanding this, Ralf performed the katas to lull his opponent into a patterned state of being with the intention of, somewhere down the line, using a switch-up to knock Lamar off balance. The tactic was simple but effective...against most others.

The Martial Grandmaster was unfazed by this level of tactics, having long accounted for the possibility. He tilted his head, letting the air cannon that was Ralf's kick narrowly pass by his forehead. Cleanly avoiding the blow, Lamar leapt backwards. Coming to a stop after a few hops, he eyed his opponent with a look of glee.

‘Not bad Combat Master but you’ll have to come up with something better than that.’

Failing his ploy, Ralf didn’t rush in again and instead composed himself where he stood.

[Combat Master,] Lamar spoke up as he changed from a close to open stance. He took deep breaths as he prepared his body for the next engagement.

Ralf did the same as he waited for his opponent’s continuation.

[That wasn’t a bad warm-up but let's kick it up a gear, shall we? Prepare yourself, I’ll be attacking from now on. Give the word.]

The crowd’s mouths became circles as the words passed through their minds. ‘Aaaaaahh!” and ‘Ooooo!’ sounded in mass from the surroundings as excitement surged anew.

Ralf inhaled the crowd's agitation before quickly exhaling it. Being unbalanced against someone of Lamar's calibre wouldn't do. He pushed the crowd out of his mind and refocused...and then refocused on his opponent. After a slight adjustment, he responded, simply saying, [Go ahead.]

*Swoosh*

Lamar dashed in at once.

Punch, punch, kick; in a mirror of Ralf’s initial moves, the Martial Grandmaster executed Anzi’s 1st kata. Similarly mirrored were Ralf’s moves: backstepping, sidestepping and then blocking with an ‘x’ shaped guard before pulling away.

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Stopping, Ralf eyed his opponent with a squint. ‘Still playing around…very well, let’s trade pointers then.’

Having the thought, Ralf darted back in. Lamar met him halfway and the two engaged in the first true exchange of the match. Punches, elbows and kicks were fired out, all within the confines of the Anzi-style.

Anzi-style versus Anzi-style; which fighter’s version was superior, Ralf's or Lamar's, Combat Master's or Martial Grandmaster's?

The enthralled audience didn’t have to wait too long for an answer. It had taken all of twenty seconds for the better Anzi practitioner to be identified.

*Bam* *Bam* *Bam*...

A punch to the shoulder, a kick to the thigh, a kick to the shin; these attacks and more landed solidly against Ralf’s body. Suffering another such hefty blow, the Transmigrator could deny the truth no longer.

Lamar’s roundhouse kick came and went, passing within an inch of Ralf's face, the accompanying gust causing the Transmigrator's blonde locks to dance wildly through the air. He had leaned far back, letting the attack sail over him. He managed to dodge cleanly but his posture was ruined, being nearly horizontal.

Ralf was forced to abandon conventional manoeuvres. He threw himself backwards and transitioned into a retreating roll, avoiding Lamar's follow-up spinning kick which cleaved at the space he previously occupied.

Coming to a stop after a few rolls, Ralf, now right way up, set his sights on Lamar, who had ceased his flurry in favour of doing breathing exercises again.

Ralf did the same as he gathered his thoughts.

[[Can’t beat him with a borrowed style, huh.]]

Ralf’s expression turned wry at his other self’s voice.

In the Mental Space, on his couch, a helmet-wearing Ray sat, sipping milkshakes and munching on snacks. He had been called upon during the preparation phase and had been silent thus far, merely observing the match.

His thoughts on it?

Ray was nothing short of impressed. Lamar had proven himself a formidable opponent, a true challenge worth overcoming.

[[Yeah, looks like it,]] Ralf replied. [[Gimmics and mind games won’t do against someone like him. I’ll have to go all-out,]] he said, mentally shifting to a higher gear.

Ray squinted. ‘I wonder if even that will be enough?' Keeping such thoughts to himself, he instead voiced a desire.

[[I want a shot at him as well.]]

Ralf's forehead wrinkled up. [[Now?]]

Usually, he would be more than happy to hand over control of the body to Ray but now...now was different. The match had ignited his fighting spirit. Burning as he was, he couldn’t - no wouldn’t relinquish control.

[[Not now,]] Ray said understanding himself all too well. [[I’ll give you a time limit, let’s go with two minutes. If you can’t defeat him by then, then we’ll switch places and I’ll give it a shot. And If I can’t defeat him in the next two minutes then…well, mister Martial Grandmaster here will have his wish granted. Sounds fair enough?]]

Ralf agreed to the proposal and then shelved Ray and all irrelevant thoughts aside as he anchored himself back onto reality.

[Are you done discussing among yourselves?] Lamar asked, amusement swirling in his golden eyes.

[Yeah, we’re done. Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll be fighting seriously from now, prepare yourself.]

Lamar cracked a smile. Then, using his outstretched left hand, he made a simple beckoning sign.

Hearing the arrogant sounding ‘come’ that usually accompanied the gesture, Ralf’s all but exploded forth.

The match between Ralf and Lamar heated up. What started as a warm-up became a full-on blaze as the fighters went at it in earnest.

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