4
“Gah, ha…!”
A groan of agony escapes Iria’s mouth as my fist digs into her stomach.
It seems there was some bloody sputum mixed in, as the ground was stained red with a splat.
Iria tries to leap away, anticipating the next blow, but her legs don’t seem to obey her, probably due to the powerful hit she just took to her stomach.
To say her legs were shaking like a newborn fawn might be an exaggeration, but she certainly couldn’t move as she wanted with her trembling legs.
I mercilessly aim a roundhouse kick at Iria’s side.
Iria quickly tries to lower her elbow to defend, but her shaking legs can’t brace her. Unable to withstand the force, her body lifts off the ground, and there’s a creaking sound of bone from the elbow that received my kick.
I follow through with my kick using brute force.
“Guuuh!?”
Her slender body flies through the air like a straw scarecrow.
Without time to brace for impact, Iria is slammed into the ground, bouncing two, three times. Her white outfit becomes stained with dirt and mud, turning into a mottled brown pattern.
Iria, lying face down, tries to get up, but her actions amount to little more than struggling.
This is only natural, as it’s already the fifth time Iria has been thrown to the ground. Until now, she had always quickly stood up to prepare for my next attack, but the accumulated fatigue and pain must be nearing her limit.
I calmly look down at Iria, who is groaning and clutching the ground with both hands, and say nothing as I fold my arms.
I’m not trying to torment her. I’m doing this out of consideration for Iria’s wish to fight seriously.
In other words, I’m indulging Iria until she’s truly satisfied that she has “lost.”
As I’m thinking this, Iria staggers to her feet.
Breathing heavily and painfully, she wipes the blood from the corner of her mouth with a swift motion. Her expression as she grits her teeth and stares at me is terribly pained, but also dignified.
I don’t ask if she wants to continue. I can see the sharp fighting spirit still burning in her eyes.
Immediately after, Iria raises her eyebrows and charges at me with a battle cry.
The speed at which she closes the distance in a single breath is worthy of a Rank 6 adventurer. Her fists strike as sharp as spears, and her legs lash out like whips, aiming to crush vital points.
Her punches and kicks grow more intense with each passing moment, like a human-shaped hurricane. Moreover, each attack sets up the next. This dazzling series of attacks, like watching a martial arts performance, is the culmination of Iria’s fighting techniques honed over the years.
However, such intense attacks also consume energy quickly. Iria is probably moving on her last reserves of strength now. Once these attacks end, she likely won’t be able to stand for a while.
I either block or dodge the successive blows, waiting for Iria’s momentum to break. The moment she runs out of breath, I plan to counter with a painful blow, making her taste dirt for the sixth time.
Iria probably realizes this too. Her relentless barrage of punches and kicks intensifies even further.
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“Sei!”
A sharp front kick is launched with explosive speed. If it had landed squarely, it would have pierced my solar plexus and left me writhing in agony. But of course, I wouldn’t make such a blunder. I quickly guard with the bracer on my right hand, blocking Iria’s attack.
A numbing shock runs through my right hand as I absorb the blow. I’m a little surprised by the unexpectedly heavy impact.
Then, perhaps spotting a moment of weakness in my reaction, Iria’s body suddenly floats upward. Using my right hand that blocked her kick as a pivot, she launches herself into the air.
“Haaaa!!”
Twisting her body like a screw, Iria unleashes a powerful roundhouse kick, using the momentum. The strike traces a white arc in the air, reminiscent of a scythe – had it connected, it could have snapped even a wyvern’s neck.
Facing this somewhat familiar attack, I raise my left hand to meet it head-on.
The impact that follows feels like being hit by a log, nearly causing my left hand to recoil.
But somehow, I manage to withstand it.
Without missing a beat, I stretch out my right hand and, just like before, grab the hem of the fluttering robe in mid-air, then yank it down hard.
Iria, suspended in the air, has no way to resist. The priestess warrior is slammed to the ground.
I pin down the hem of Iria’s fallen robe with my foot, then straddle her body. It was to restrain her movements, but it seems that’s no longer necessary.
Having tasted the dirt for the sixth time, Iria lies motionless on the ground, offering no resistance, not even a twitch. It appears she had poured all her strength and concentration into that last exchange, and now she’s just gasping for breath.
“I told you before that flying was a bad move,” I say.
“……”
In response to my words, Iria silently meets my gaze. Her eyes, distant from hostility or fighting spirit, are almost gentle.
Seeing her face, I somehow sense Iria’s inner thoughts.
Iria’s recent attack – the combination of a front kick leading into an aerial roundhouse kick – was exactly the same as when we fought earlier in the Rem Mountains.
Iria deliberately used the same combination as before for her final attack. Surely, this too was Iria’s way of bringing closure.
Something has certainly been removed from Iria’s face beneath me.
Then, Iria gently closes her eyes.
She doesn’t say anything in particular, but there’s only one reason throughout history for closing one’s eyes in this position.
I can’t find any reason to refuse what’s being offered.
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