“Is my opponent Dias?”
Ian Volkanov narrowed his eyes as he looked at the match-up chart.
He had once defeated Dias in a previous battle, but he knew better than to underestimate him.
‘Of course, Dias is a disciple of Hexar Madukelan.’
Hexar Madukelan.
The man who turned the small guild he inherited from his father into one of the most renowned in the Kallos Empire. A legendary figure who manipulated every guild in the empire like puppets.
People often referred to him as the Mercenary King, but Ian knew him by a different name.
‘The Ruler of the Wilderness.’
An outcast of the Great Forest, who, alongside Ilian Sigrud, swept through enemies at the vanguard of the hero’s party.
This was Dias’s master.
That was why.
‘I can’t underestimate him.’
Ian anticipated a fierce battle.
Not that he was scared. Unless he faced Hexar himself, his chances of defeat were slim.
Even if Hexar personally intervened, Ian was confident he could win.
Ian had another reason for his caution.
‘Hexar only pursues victory in battles. He doesn’t care if the process is beautiful.’
Knowing this, it was obvious how Dias, taught by such a master, would approach the fight.
Dias would use every possible trick to secure victory against Ian.
‘Dias might seem like a scumbag if I put it this way, but… what can I say? That’s how he’s shown himself.’
Even though disciples can choose different paths from their masters.
Ian doubted it considering Dias’s actions in the war game against Lia.
‘Normal people would try to induce Lia’s surrender or send her off with minimal pain.’
But what had Dias done? He had charged with an axe, eyes filled with bloodlust, barely concealing his combative nature.
It was not an exaggeration to say he was a product of his master’s teachings.
‘Though there’s still a considerable gap between Hexar and him.’
In any case, the important point was simple.
Dias would stop at nothing for victory, so Ian’s goal was to win the battle without getting hurt.
Thanks to this thought, Ian was prepared.
Swoosh!
“Hup!”
‘I knew it.’
Ian was able to counter Dias’s charge the moment the battle began.
Ian caught Dias’s swiftly extended axe and looked at him with cold eyes.
Thud!
A drop of blood fell to the ground, a cut appearing on Ian’s cheek from the recent attack.
‘Hmm…’
At a glance, it seemed like Dias aimed for his face, but anyone with combat experience would know what Dias was truly targeting.
‘He was aiming for my eyes.’
Dias used a weapon with a spear tip on the end of his axe, thrusting it towards Ian’s eyes—an attack no decent person would attempt.
But Dias felt no guilt.
The reason? Obvious.
‘That’s how he was taught. That’s how he survived.’
A commoner and a hunter’s son, Dias learned to kill beasts while other kids learned farming.
Hexar likely honed that savage instinct.
‘But… it seems he didn’t learn it perfectly. At least Hexar had some limits.’
While Hexar stopped at nothing to win, he never used such methods in practice duels, reserving them only for enemies threatening his comrades.
‘Perhaps he didn’t teach Dias that part.’
Hexar, always on the move, couldn’t continuously mentor Dias. Ian felt a surge of annoyance but held back.
He couldn’t care less about a comrade’s disciple acting outrageously.
‘If he doesn’t know manners…’
He could be taught through pain.
‘And I have just the method.’
Seeing Dias struggle to retrieve his axe, Ian smirked.
***
There was a debate once.
‘What if a North Korean special forces soldier fought an MMA fighter to the death?’
It might sound like a trivial question, but surprisingly, the results were neck and neck.
Surprisingly, the result was a close match.
‘North Korean special forces learn many techniques for killing, so they’d be different in a fight. Real combat is different from professional fights,’ they said.
It might sound plausible.
The idea of killing techniques heavily influenced the expected outcomes.
But Ian thought differently.
From the moment he heard that argument, he was certain of the result.
‘A professional fighter would always win. No matter how skilled a special forces soldier is, they can’t beat a pro.’
The reason was simple.
‘Killing techniques aren’t anything special.’
What is a killing technique? It’s a method designed to cause death.
Mixed martial artists are experts in this area.
‘MMA fighters constantly think about how to inflict more pain, how to break bones easily. Do you think they don’t know how to kill someone?’
Anyone but a fool would know. Even ordinary people understand.
A basic jiu-jitsu chokehold can be deadly if maintained. In boxing, a strike to the back of the head can be fatal.
‘They know all this. They just follow the rules in professional matches for safety.’
The implication was clear.
Ian, trained in both boxing and jiu-jitsu, could easily employ these advanced lethal techniques.
And he was about to demonstrate it.
“If you’re doing this, you must be prepared to take a beating.”
“No! My axe!”
As Ian tightened his grip, Dias’s axe was wrenched free.
Dias concentrated his strength to resist, but…
“What the… such power.”
In an instant, the axe was torn from his grasp and sent flying across the ground.
Dias froze.
‘What’s this?’
If nothing else, he prided himself on his strength.
He’d often defeated not just first-years but also second-years. He thought this would be a fair fight.
But the outcome was far worse than he expected.
The unexpected turn of events left Dias momentarily paralyzed, both mentally and physically.
Ian didn’t miss that split-second opportunity.
“Hup!”
Swoosh!
Ian ducked and dashed to the left.
Dias assumed Ian would target his body or head, so he raised his guard and enveloped his torso with mana.
‘With this…’
Even if Ian’s punch connected, Dias could withstand it. He could then counterattack effectively.
Dias allowed himself a brief smile, but…
“What are you doing?”
Smack!
“Ugh!”
He screamed as a punch struck him from an unexpected angle.
‘What just happened?’
He thought Ian would aim for his face or body. He was completely wrong.
Ian’s target was just below the back of the ear.
A rabbit punch—a forbidden boxing technique that could cause paralysis or even death—landed perfectly.
Beeee!
‘Ugh…’
His ears buzzed painfully, and his vision blurred.
He couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
He began to see multiple versions of Ian’s fists.
Thud! Thud!
“Guh…”
Ian’s punches hammered Dias’s body before he could raise his guard.
One misjudgment led to a complete disadvantage. Still, Dias refused to give up. He wouldn’t accept such a powerless defeat.
He took deep breaths, focusing on recovery.
Even though he had lost his axe and his planned attack had failed, it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t out of tricks yet.
‘I didn’t slack off during the break.’
Realizing his shortcomings from the Brookers event, Dias had devoted himself to rigorous training.
Dias couldn’t bear to tarnish the name of his master, known as the Ruler of the Wilderness. He recalled the teachings he received, enduring blood and sweat.
Knowing how precious that time was, Dias could never give up.
‘Let’s finish this with the technique my master taught me.’
Dias adjusted his stance. He had learned more than just how to wield an axe from his master.
‘Without an axe and with the enemy also unarmed, this is the best technique.’
Turning heaven and earth upside down,
Heaven and Earth Reversal, a close-combat technique taught by Hexar Madukelan. It involved rushing into the opponent’s arms and flipping them over.
‘You can’t take this lightly. The moment they hit the ground, they’ll be knocked out.’
It wasn’t an easy move to counter. Even Ian would be caught off guard by this unexpected technique.
‘Master said only one person on this continent could defend against it.’
He likely meant the Demon King.
In other words, Ian couldn’t prepare for this attack.
Boom!
Dias kicked off the ground, focusing mana into his lower body, and launched himself with formidable speed.
As he rapidly closed the distance, Dias smiled.
‘He couldn’t react.’
He had heard that Ian managed to block Haley’s charge during practical combat training, but now it seemed his worries were unfounded. In this situation, Ian had no counter.
Now he just needed to grab and spin. As Dias reached out, ready to execute the technique—
“What?”
His outstretched hand grabbed nothing.
What? Why is there nothing where it should be?
Confused, Dias turned his head.
Crunch!
“Ugh!”
A sudden arm wrapped around his neck, tightening like a vise.
Guillotine choke, a technique perfect against a charging opponent, and Dias was caught in it.
‘No… my vision.’
Breathing became impossible, and his neck felt like it was about to break.
But the most dangerous part was the darkness creeping into his vision.
Without sight, he had no chance.
Desperately, Dias abandoned his stable stance and began to struggle.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“What?”
The guillotine choke wasn’t Ian’s final move.
He had a specific reason for initiating the choke despite having other options.
Hup!
“Gah!”
With a smirk, Ian leaned back, shifting his choking arm towards Dias’s abdomen.
Dias, having released his stable stance to struggle, found himself airborne.
‘Ah… it’s over.’
The ceiling and floor swapped places.
No, he was being flipped upside down.
The combination of the rabbit punch and the guillotine choke culminated in one final technique.
‘Suplex.’
Arguably the most powerful technique in grappling, if not all of martial arts, had taken effect.
