"Boy," the stranger said calmly. "Forget that I'm here. Just go your way. I won't cause any trouble for you."
Ben replied firmly, "Just surrender. But if it's a fight you want, I'll oblige."
The stranger smirked. "Pretty diligent. If only everyone were like that, this world would be a much better place."
Both men knew there was no need for more words. They silently prepared themselves.
'Hah, towards the end of the mission there is trouble," Ben thought. 'This guy... he reminds me of a Quasi-noble realm beast. He seems really strong.'
The stranger, too, was sizing Ben up. 'This boy... his aura is incredibly stable. What family is he from? He's not arrogant like those pampered heirs from wealthy families. And he's clearly experienced in combat—his stance tells me that. Whatever the case, I'll have to finish him.'
The stranger's body began to shimmer with a golden hue, visible through the gaps in his clothing. He removed his gloves—his hands glowed gold at first, then turned white as heat radiated from them. He took up a classic steel spear and shield stance, his palm facing Ben. The skin of his hand had become rough and abrasive, erasing any lines or fingerprints.
Ben adopted a neutral stance, slightly leaning forward for mobility. His opponent seemed to think he was waiting for the first move. But suddenly, Ben struck—so fast that the stranger didn't even have time to react.
A powerful punch landed against the man's ribs from the side, rising at an upward angle. Normally, such a blow to the liver would cause serious damage—but Ben's opponent was no ordinary man. He was a Yogi, someone who had mastered the hardness of his body.
Even so, the impact made him flinch. Ben, his own hand wrapped in aura, felt a sharp sting of pain shoot through him. Then, without warning, he sensed an intense wave of heat surging toward him.
Ben leapt backward just in time. His opponent's white-hot hand slammed into the ground, incinerating the foliage and melting the earth beneath it.
Ben stared, wide-eyed. 'He's actually trying to kill me,' he realized. 'He must be here for something serious. The other smugglers and poachers never resorted to killing right away.'
Abandoning the idea of engaging directly, Ben reassessed his approach. Meanwhile, his opponent was studying him as well. 'What the hell kind of speed is that? He just bounced away like lightning! I'll need to account for that. I've dealt with speedsters before.'
With that thought, the man steadied himself. Ben, too, prepared for what was coming next. A faint light flickered around his hands—then two glowing claws formed where his palms had been. Behind him, a shimmering tail of aura took shape.
His opponent raised an eyebrow. He recognized it as some kind of Shamanic ability but couldn't quite identify what kind. There wasn't time to ponder—it was already too late.
Tree trunks and massive rocks came hurtling toward him, whistling through the air at near the speed of sound. He destroyed some, dodged others, realizing almost immediately that this was a distraction. He braced himself, guarding high.
As expected, Ben was already behind a tree. In the blink of an eye, he lunged—his right hand, now a claw, slicing toward his opponent's face, aiming straight for the eyes. The stranger blocked just in time, but in doing so, he left his flank open.
A powerful strike landed exactly where Ben had hit him earlier. Sparks burst from the impact as friction and heat flared through the man's side. Ben darted back before the counterattack could reach him. Even while retreating, he swung his claw like a hooked blade, flinging a tree trunk toward his opponent. It didn't cause any real damage—but it made the man furious.
"Now you've done it, boy!" the stranger roared. "I'll roast you to a crisp!"
Ben smirked. "Heh. Says the man who couldn't even touch me."
Now that both fighters had seen each other's tricks to a certain extent, they were ready for the next round.
Ben wasn't the type to wait. Activating Aether Leap, he gave his opponent the illusion that he was preparing for a fast, agile strike—but instead, he hurled a massive boulder straight at him. The man smashed it apart with ease, only to find an ethereal Lupis rushing toward him.
Using his technique, Rush 'n' Ram, Ben crashed into his opponent with tremendous speed, driving him into the ground and leaving a smoking crater. The impact caught the stranger completely off guard, forcing him to stagger and take visible damage.
Still, Ben had underestimated the resilience of a Yogi—a master of physical fortitude. Even such a devastating hit hadn't caused significant harm.
But Ben didn't relent. Channeling the claws of the ethereal Lupis, he struck the same wounded spot once more before retreating swiftly, just as his opponent's blazing hands reached out to seize him.
The man rose slowly, clearly struggling. His one side was visibly weakened, one hand pressed against it as if holding himself together. Ben, however, refused to lower his guard. His aura claws still shimmered, ready to strike again at a moment's notice.
Both fighters began to circle. Ben's breathing grew heavier as he stepped back, drawing his opponent away from the crater and into a grove where a few trees stood scattered across the clearing. Then he stopped—eyes sharp, aura flickering.
In the next instant, Ben lunged. He drew upon every principle he'd learned from Agastya Parvami. His opponent saw the incoming claw, aimed for his eyes, and reflexively blocked it—but that was exactly what Ben wanted. The true strike came a heartbeat later, slamming into the same side as before.
Pain flickered across the stranger's face. Though he tried to feint, Ben could tell the damage was real. Striking the same spot repeatedly was risky, but effective—until the enemy caught on.
Now the man began to protect his wounded flank more carefully, forcing Ben to adapt. He shifted tactics, unleashing a rapid series of feints and slashing strikes that blurred in the air like flashes of light.