The roar of colliding fists echoed across the plaza, scattering the dust and rattling the stones underfoot. Onlookers gathered quickly, warriors, citizens, even old scholars, all drawn by the raw, earthshaking clash between two figures at the center of it all.
Thor, the pride of Asgard, stood tall, his muscles taut, a wild grin stretching across his face.
Across from him, Soren, the man from Midgard, owner of Everlife, his breathing steady despite the shockwave that had blown back the first ring of spectators.
For a moment, there was only stunned silence.
Among the spectators were many seasoned warriors, veterans of countless battles, their instincts honed by years of bloodshed. They knew strength when they saw it.
They had seen Thor charge first, striking with full force. And they had watched, stunned, as he was blown back by Soren's sheer pressure.
In that moment, something became painfully clear, if Soren's combat instincts were even close to Thor's, this wasn't going to be an easy fight.
What no one realized was that Soren hadn't even used his full power.
When Thor attacked, Soren instinctively read his strength, measured it in a heartbeat, and responded with precisely equal force, nothing more.
To the untrained eye, Soren had merely stood his ground. He hadn't moved a step.
He hadn't braced or leveraged his body.
But in truth, Soren's control over his muscles, bones, and every micro-movement had surpassed Thor's by leagues.
He didn't need to brace himself, he was the anchor.
"Did... did Thor get pushed back?" Someone whispered, voice almost lost in the wind.
A grizzled warrior scratched his beard. "He charged with everything he had, too. That mortal didn't even budge!"
Thor took a step back, boots grinding against the stone, his blue eyes flashing with disbelief… and excitement.
He chuckled, clenching his fists tighter. "By the Allfather."
"He's holding back."
Soren only tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. He hadn't moved from his spot.
Thor barked a laugh, shaking out his arms. "Now that's more like it!"
"Come on, Healer! Again!"
Without waiting for a reply, Thor shot forward, but this time, not like a battering ram. He weaved, shifting side to side, quick and sharp like a serpent striking.
His boots barely kissed the ground as he danced around Soren, looking for an opening.
The crowd leaned forward, breathless.
Soren's eyes followed Thor unhurriedly, like he was studying a storm forming on the horizon.
"You move well for someone so loud." Soren finally said.
Inwardly, he offered a small nod of approval.
Good instincts. He reads strength well. Adjusts faster than most.
Thor was feeling Soren out, adjusting tactics on the fly, like a true warrior honed by countless battles. And Soren, rather than responding with overwhelming force, compressed his own strength even further, a deliberate handicap.
He wanted the pressure, the sharp edge of a worthy opponent, to hone himself even further.
Thor finally made his move.
There was no wild, charging roar this time.
He slipped toward Soren's flank, swinging a hard feint toward Soren's temple.
It was a trap, a quick bait meant to force a high block and the real blow shot in an instant later toward Soren's ribs.
Soren's eyes gleamed. He didn't meet the punches with brute force, he shifted at the last second, twisting his torso like a reed in the wind.
Thor's fist brushed nothing but the air where Soren's head and chest had just been. His balance thrown off, Thor stumbled half a step forward, scowling.
"Damn."
Before Thor could right himself, Soren moved fast, too fast for the eye. A simple hook of his foot behind Thor's ankle.
Thor felt the shift in his center of gravity, but it was too late.
He grunted, flipping and rolling with the impact, hitting the ground hard enough to rattle the plaza stones.
But even while rolling, Thor's instincts kicked in.
He twisted mid-fall, one knee digging into the ground, arms already up defensively, eyes locked on Soren.
Yet Soren... hadn't moved.
He stood where he had been, arms loose at his sides, only a faint glow in his eyes betraying his rising excitement.
In the crowd, a younger warrior whispered, half in awe, "Thor's... he's struggling...?"
"Struggling? He's getting schooled." An older fighter beside him snorted.
Thor's chest heaved once, and then he broke into a grin, shaking his hair out of his face. "You're very annoying, Soren"
"But it's been too long since my blood has pumped like this."
"You're welcome." Soren gave a thin smile.
Thor planted his feet, ready to move, but this time Soren struck first, a blur of motion, a low shout tearing from his throat.
"Hey!"
He shot up into the air, body tightening mid-jump, and rocketed downward like a spear aimed straight at Thor's crouching form.
Thor swore and raised his arms in a cross-guard, bracing for the blow. He gritted his teeth, already planning the counter, absorb the hit, take the impact, then drive forward while Soren landed~
Just as Soren's punch screamed downward!
He changed.
Soren's fist stopped just before contact, his arm pivoting like a whip, turning his strike into a sharp, blade-like chop aimed diagonally across Thor's guard.
Thor's eyes widened.
He can shift attacks mid-air?
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream