Victory Through Defiance

The battlefield was a chaotic mess of debris, concrete craters, and shattered glass—a testament to the brutal fight between Azar and the Deep Sea King. The city block was nearly unrecognizable, transformed by the devastation left in their wake. Both fighters were worn down, their breathing heavy, every movement slower than before, yet neither was willing to back down.

Azar grinned, the pain and fatigue evident in his every motion, but the thrill of the fight burned fiercely in his eyes. Every bruise, cut, and broken piece of concrete told the story of their fierce struggle, and yet he refused to falter.

"You're persistent for a mere human," growled the Deep Sea King, blood dripping from his wounds as he glared at Azar. "But you're reaching your limit."

Azar spat out a bit of blood, his own grin only widening. "Maybe, but that just means I'll hit harder while I still can."

The civilians in the evacuation center watched in stunned silence. Then, in a moment of collective realization, they began to cheer—some out of desperation, others out of genuine hope. Their voices, hesitant at first, grew louder, echoing through the center and out onto the battlefield.

"Go! Don't give up!"

"You can do it!"

The cheers were a strange, unexpected warmth that Azar hadn't realized he needed. The faces of those civilians were a reminder that, despite his self-centered pursuit of strength, his power had the potential to protect.

With a slight smile and a newfound energy, he readied himself, squaring his stance. "All right, 'King'. Let's finish this."

The Deep Sea King snarled, charging forward with every ounce of his monstrous strength, determined to crush Azar with a final strike. Azar narrowly sidestepped the blow, feeling the air slice as the Sea King's fist narrowly missed him. Memories of Bang's swift counters and brutal strikes flooded his mind, his instincts sharpened by the memory of that merciless spar.

The Sea King launched another punch, but Azar met it with a perfectly timed counter, striking the Sea King's open jaw with all his might. The Sea King staggered, momentarily stunned, and Azar didn't waste a second. He lunged forward, throwing a series of rapid strikes he had absorbed from his previous battles, his fists a blur of calculated power, hitting with every ounce of strength left in his battered body.

The civilians' cheers surged, fueling his resolve as each of his blows landed with a precision that he owed to Bang's teachings. The thrill of the fight, the overwhelming pain, and the roaring crowd all merged into one moment of pure exhilaration. Azar was entirely in the zone, his mind free from doubts, entirely present in the heat of battle.

But the Deep Sea King, relentless and enraged, refused to back down, swinging wildly at Azar, each of his movements heavier and slower than before. The monster was losing ground, his previous dominance over Azar slipping as the relentless counterattacks whittled him down.

In a last act of desperation, the Sea King charged up another powerful water blast, inhaling deeply. But before he could unleash it, Azar remembered Bang's own finishing move—a move that turned an enemy's strength against them. With a ferocious yell, Azar twisted his body and struck the Sea King right in the throat, disrupting his breath and silencing the deadly blast.

The Deep Sea King's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, his balance faltering. Azar seized the opportunity, mustering every ounce of remaining strength and delivering a final punch, a devastating blow that connected with the monster's skull, sending him crashing to the ground with a thunderous impact.

Azar dropped to his knees, panting heavily. His whole body felt like it was on fire, bruised and bloodied from head to toe. But he didn't hesitate. Instinctively, he reached out with his Devouring ability, feeling the essence of the Deep Sea King slipping into him, feeding him power, healing his wounds as raw energy flooded his veins.

The crowd in the evacuation center fell silent as they watched Azar absorb the monster's essence. Then, as if a dam had broken, they erupted into cheers and applause, celebrating their unexpected protector.

Azar, lying on his back in the middle of the rain-soaked street, began to laugh—a raw, unrestrained laughter born out of the sheer thrill of surviving such an intense battle. He stared up at the cloudy sky, the weight of the victory settling in as his body hummed with newfound strength.

His chest heaved as he caught his breath, the laughter subsiding but leaving a smile on his face.

"Guess I can see the appeal in being a hero," he murmured to himself, still grinning as the rain washed away the grime and blood.

For the first time in his journey for strength, he felt that he'd truly earned his victory. And while he didn't care too much about heroics, he could admit that standing alone against an impossible foe—and winning—felt damn good.