The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 32: The Flow of Combat

Draven's vision blurred, his exhaustion evident as the weight of his prolonged Shen usage began to take its toll. His breath came in sharp, uneven intervals, his entire body feeling like it was burning from the inside out. Quag, watching closely, wiped the blood from his own mouth and exhaled.

"You're strong, kid," he admitted, shifting his stance slightly. "But you're running on fumes."

Draven barely registered his words, his golden gates still hovering above him. He forced himself to focus, his All Creation Eyes pulsating with raw power, but something was off. His vision wavered, colors twisted, and the golden gates around him flickered. He clutched his head. "Everything… is hot," he muttered, his body trembling. His eyes ached as though molten fire coursed through them.

The moment he removed his hands from his face, the golden gates stabilized again, but only briefly. Quag saw his opening. With a flick of his clawed hand, jagged black crystalline lines shot forward like spears, piercing through the air straight toward Draven.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The golden gates reacted on their own, rotating and shielding Draven from the attack, deflecting the attack with a metallic resonance. Quag's attack was repelled, but Draven wasn't standing much longer. His knees buckled, the gates flickered violently, and then—they disappeared entirely. His breathing was ragged.

Huey, still perched on the pillar, tilted his head. "First time tapping into them fully, huh? Expected. These eyes eat up too much Shen."

But as he said that, he placed his hands together.

A warm wave of Shen spread across the battlefield. Draven's trembling hands steadied. His breathing evened out. Strength surged back into his veins. Huey smirked.

Quag's eyes narrowed. "What did you just do?"

Huey chuckled. "A little something called the Tranmission Technique. You'd know it if you were smart enough in your hunter classes."

Quag clenched his fists. "Tch. But you have to make physical contact for that to work."

His mind raced—when the hell had Huey touched Draven?

But before he could find the answer—

Swoosh!

Draven vanished.

Quag's instincts screamed at him. He barely managed to jerk his head back as a devastating fist whizzed past his face, slicing through the air.

WHAM!

Quag raised his arm, blocking the follow-up knee strike to his ribs. But Draven was relentless. His All Creation Eyes glowed, his perception expanding, his body moving two steps ahead of Quag's reactions.

Quag swung his Abyssal Ram Claw forward, but—

Missed.

Draven sidestepped effortlessly, dipped low, and—

SMASH!

A devastating elbow strike drove into Quag's gut, sending him skidding backward. He coughed up blood but twisted midair, landing with precision.

"Hah… not bad."

Quag's body tensed, then burst forward with terrifying speed, his fist a blur, aiming straight for Draven's temple.

Draven ducked.

The punch sailed over him, the sheer force splitting the air where his head had been. He retaliated instantly—

A high-speed spinning kick—

Blocked.

Quag's left arm rose just in time, absorbing the blow. But Draven was already moving again.

A brutal palm strike.

Dodge.

A lightning-fast knee to the ribs.

Parried.

Another elbow to the chest—

This time, it connected.

BAM!

Quag grunted, feeling his ribs rattle. He retaliated—his clawed hand slashing horizontally, aimed to slice open Draven's torso.

Draven leaned back—

The claws barely grazed his shirt, cutting through the fabric but missing his flesh entirely.

Quag snarled. "Damn brat—!"

He shifted his weight, planting his foot and twisting, launching a devastating spinning backfist.

Draven's eyes flickered.

He saw two possible futures—one where he dodged left and Quag followed up with a knee to his face, and another where he sidestepped right and Quag's claws tore into his shoulder, but it was for only a fraction moment he couldn't review it twice.

Neither option worked.

So—

He countered.

Mid-spin, Draven twisted his entire body, closing the distance instantly—

And drove a rising uppercut directly into Quag's jaw.

CRACK!

Quag's head snapped back violently, his body lifting slightly off the ground from the sheer impact.

THUD!

He crashed onto his knees, blood dripping from his mouth, breathing heavily.

Draven stood over him,His fists clenched. His body burned from exertion,But he had the upper hand.

Quag glared up at him, one eye swollen, his body trembling from exhaustion and pain,Draven didn't speak. He didn't have to.