The air cracked like thunder as Runy lunged forward with unrelenting speed. His boots thundered against the rocky ground, dust exploding beneath his feet as he charged toward Toby like an avalanche of fury. Every motion screamed purpose. Toby stood poised and unshaken, eyes locked onto the man who was more than a mere warrior—Runy was a juggernaut capable of breaking bones and spirits with a single swing.
"Come on then!" Toby shouted, his voice edged with defiance and fire.
Runy launched the first attack with a guttural roar—a brutal barrage of punches that blurred through the air. His fists were merciless hammers of fury, targeting Toby's head, chest, and ribs with deadly precision. Each blow sliced through the air like steel blades, and the resulting shockwaves sent tremors rippling through the rocky battlefield.
Toby twisted and deflected, his forearms absorbing the brunt of the onslaught. His bones throbbed, his skin stung from each strike, and blood pooled in his mouth from the sheer trauma of holding his ground. But hold it he did—feet dug into the earth, heart aflame with defiance.
"What's the matter, brat? Can't take a real fight?" Runy taunted, his eyes alight with cruel amusement.
Without warning, Toby vanished in a flicker of light and appeared at Runy's flank. He aimed a punishing strike, but Runy reacted instantly, catching the punch and twisting Toby's wrist with brutal efficiency. Toby winced in pain and retreated with another flicker.
Runy cracked his knuckles, chuckling darkly. "So, you're a Heartstone bearer too, huh? Interesting trick. But let me show you mine."
His right arm shimmered and hardened—iron overtaking skin. It glinted coldly under the sun as he reared back.
He charged.
His iron fist came down like a falling meteor. Toby flickered away, but the blow struck the ground with explosive force, carving a crater and sending debris into the air. The watching Paladins gasped, awe-struck by their officer's power.
"That's the strength of a junior officer? Gods help us all," one whispered.
"What kind of monsters must be ranked above him..." another muttered.
But Toby wasn't done. His body became a storm of motion—flickering from one point to another like a dancing lightning bolt. Each flicker collected kinetic energy, building into an unstoppable rhythm. He surged forward and slammed a punch at Runy's torso. The impact cracked the air with a sonic boom.
But instead of flesh, Toby's fist met a wall of iron. The impact reverberated through his bones. Runy didn't budge. He stood tall, grinning beneath the glint of his iron skin.
"Tch... Solid all over," Toby muttered, shaking out his arm.
Runy's grin widened. "AHAHA! That felt like a tickle, boy. Now it's my turn."
Runy's counterattack came without warning—a devastating uppercut to Toby's gut, backed by the full might of his iron-forged strength. The impact was cataclysmic. Toby's breath fled his lungs as if ripped away by a hurricane. His body bent violently at the waist before he was launched like a weightless ragdoll. He crashed through a jagged ridge of stone, then tumbled over shattered rubble and twisted metal, his body bouncing like a lifeless puppet until he skidded to a brutal halt.
Toby groaned, pain radiating from every fiber of his being. He curled on his side, clutching his abdomen where the blow had landed. A trickle of blood slipped from his mouth, and his vision blurred around the edges.
"B-Bastard..." he gasped, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "That actually hurt... like hell."
"Oh, it's only getting started."
Toby flickered again, a blur of light and fury that refused to fade. His strikes poured down in an unrelenting storm—fists like meteorites crashing from the heavens, legs carving through the air in scything arcs of sheer momentum. Each movement was a testament to sheer willpower, to the fire burning within him that refused to yield.
Some of his blows landed true, denting Runy's iron shell with the force of a battering ram. Others, however, struck with a hollow clang against the unyielding armor, sparking pain in Toby's bones. Yet still he pressed forward, each breath a growl, each heartbeat a drumbeat of defiance. He was no longer just a fighter—he was the storm, and storms do not retreat.
Then came Runy's counter. His iron palm smashed into Toby's face with terrifying force. The sound cracked across the valley like a gunshot. Toby spiraled midair, then slammed into the dirt.
For a moment, silence reigned. Toby lay there—bloodied, gasping.
"Give up, brat! You're nothing compared to the might of the Paladins!"
Toby pushed himself up, blood dripping. "As long as Gursh stands... I will fight."
"Then you die with it," Runy growled. He turned to the Paladins. "Advance to the Lunas camp!"
The soldiers obeyed. Toby, panicked, flickered toward them—only to be blocked by Runy again.
"Still have to go through me!"
Toby's blows became more chaotic, but also sharper—flickering unpredictably, his strikes now carving dents into Runy's armor.
Runy grunted, breathing labored. "Where is this strength coming from?"
Toby jumped back, flickered repeatedly, then rushed in for a final strike. But Runy dodged and countered. His iron fist drew back—
Toby flickered behind him, both fists raised. He brought them crashing down—BANG!—onto the back of Runy's head. The blow rang like a gong, but Runy had turned his skull to iron in time. He staggered, but didn't fall.
""You landed a hit... impressive," Runy said, shaking the last of the ringing from his head. He rubbed the back of his iron-scaled skull, still reeling slightly from the blow. "Not many can do that to me. You've got more fight in you than I expected. What's your name, warrior?"
Toby stepped forward, his breathing ragged, fists still clenched and glowing faintly from the flicker energy. Dirt and blood streaked his face, but his eyes gleamed with unbreakable fire.
"Toby Klaus," he said through grit teeth, chest heaving. "I'm not just another fighter. I'm going to be the next Ashkin King. I'll rip the throne from its poisoned roots and build something worth bleeding for."
Runy let out a low, amused chuckle. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. Delusional, but spirited. Let's see if that dream still stands after I break your legs."
"What's truly pathetic is serving tyrants like the Nasyonalistas."
Runy smirked. "I don't care. Power and women—that's enough for me."
He charged again. Fists clashed. Sparks flew.
Meanwhile, the Paladins reached the camp. Blood stained the ground. Bodies—Gursh citizens and Luna Ashkins—littered the streets.
Captain Merko grimaced. "We're pawns in Figets' ego."
"The only good thing he did was remove Hundra," Captain Rickstar said.
"Let's end this. Heal the people. Save who we can."
They began restoring order—arresting Luna fighters, aiding the wounded, protecting survivors. The battle shifted to mercy.
Back with Toby, his body started to fail. Limbs heavy. Breath short.
"I need to end this. Now."
He gathered his final strength. One last flicker. He appeared before Runy, fist glowing red.
CRACK!
His punch shattered the iron plating on Runy's chest. Runy flew back, smashed into a wall, and lay unconscious.
Toby collapsed. "I... won..."
He rose unsteadily, limping toward the camp. What he saw stunned him.
Paladins were healing the wounded. Luna Ashkins arrested, but alive. Peace, however fragile, had taken hold.
Merko and Rickstar approached.
"Still want a fight?" Toby wheezed.
"You defeated Figets. Did more for the people than he ever did," Merko said.
Toby blinked. "Huh?"
"They're seeing you as a hero," a voice said.
"Reu! You're alive!"
"Barely," Reu replied, smiling.
Toby chuckled. "Busy day."
"Hell of one," Reu said.
Rickstar frowned. "You're still our enemy. If we meet again—"
"—We'll make you eat dirt," Merko added.
Then—
"Make it three, Captain!"
"Brea!" Toby cried. "You're okay!"
"Of course you idiot. But now, we must move before they learn what I did."
Rickstar narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?"
Brea flashed a wicked grin. "Nothing. Probably."
"You... you burned down the base!" Rickstar roared.
"RUN!" Brea shouted, grabbing Toby and Reu by their arms.
The three dashed off, laughter trailing behind them. Rickstar lunged after them, but Merko grabbed his shoulder.
"Let them go, Ricky. The war's over."
"Stop calling me Ricky!" Rickstar snapped.
"Sure, Ricky."
As the trio disappeared into the horizon, the remaining Paladins and Gursh citizens watched them go—not as enemies, but as echoes of change.
And then—quietly, gently—the bells of the city rang.
Gursh stood free. Not by decree or force, but by the will of those who refused to break. A people once silenced by the iron fist of tyranny now dared to dream again.
Children emerged from hiding. Mothers wept and laughed in the same breath. Flags were lowered—not in defeat, but in tribute. Smoke still curled in the air, but it no longer smelled of ruin. It smelled of rebirth.
And in the heart of that broken, beautiful city, a whisper stirred across the land.
That this was not the end.
This was the beginning.
For the first time in generations...
The Luna Ashkins were gone. The Helos too. Paladins promised to protect the city now. Gursh City stood free.
And for the first time in generations...
Gresia rejoiced.