Son of The Savage (A DC Si)

Chapter 20: Fighting for the Invite!



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(Shade's P.O.V)

They watched each other critically.

The young master's feet slid into a loose stance, opening himself up to the Assassin.

The Assassin refused to take the bait. And I immediately knew this was going to be a tough fight.

They moved around one another until the young master stood with his back to the dinner table, while the Assassin stayed on the steps.

I noted that the Young Master had left his back exposed, presenting his blindside to Deathstroke the Terminator.

Not wise.

Yet, the latter knew better than to attack. Not when the ghost of my presence hang around.

For even though he could not perceive me, he felt the shadow of death whisper in his ears. Like an invisible knife on his neck.

I lay in the shadows, a gun aimed his way. I don't like using them. I'm not a fighter and even the Young Master forbids me from engaging in any of his battles. He might be young, but he can take care of himself.

That said, getting the Lazarus Invite while necessary, does not mean I will willingly place the Young Master's life in jeopardy.

Even if he loses, I can still get him on the Island with my portals. The goal is not the tournament itself but the one who hosts it.

So one wrong move from Slade and the Terminator would be, excuse the repetition, terminated.

Back to the issue at hand, they had finished sizing each other up. And with an unexpected snarl, the Assassin attacked.

(Angel's P.O.V)

No powers huh?

Fine. My abilities don't make me powerful, my control and knowledge of how to use them, does.

I am not weak without them. This is DC, I'm perfectly aware I could lose them at any time.

And so through the years, I have trained to make sure my body is not a weakness that can be used against me.

I have mastered the will of martial prowess and if I have to showcase how deadly I am with my fists, so be it.

I silently removed my half coat while my opponent watched on. Then I popped a few buttons on my shirt and rolled up my sleeves. The attire I was in was not suitable for a fight, but the quality of the clothes ensured I could move around easily in them.

"Come."

I motioned forth, no false openings or feints. Just a call to fight.

The Assassin- who judging by the body shape I concluded was female, jumped off the steps and slid through the marble floor into my guard.

In the midst of this, I too moved forward to engage.

She made the first move. The strike beginning with a capoiera kick coming upward to connect with my left side. A blow that targeted the kidneys.

And anyone who's been in a fight will tell you, a shot to the Kidney fucking hurts.

I raised my knee and blocked it, but somehow she slipped an elbow through to land a blow on my sternum.

I easily parried it with a palm, but my line of sight was obscured by my own defensive cross guard.

She capitalized on it, with a double clap to my ears that caused them to instantly start ringing.

Anyone else would have been disoriented as the ears play a major role in maintaining the body's sense of balance, but I took it in stride.

A winding hook sailing dangerously close to her face made her back off.

Not too keen on being on the defensive, I launched my counterattack, a series of fast punches that if landed would knock around her brain inside it's cranium and end the bout.

This is where she surprised me by not only weaving through the fast moving fists, but also finding pockets to retaliate with high and low kicks aimed for my extremities. The temple, neck, solar plexus and groin.

My surprise ended as I changed tactics from offense to misdirection and feints.

One of which she fell for, extending her foot forward for a spinning kick, only for my hand to grab her heel and without letting go of the foot, I heaved her over my head with a grunt, intending to slam her down on the marble floor behind.

Such an impact would crack, if not break a few bones.

I succeeded in throwing her but she twisted her body at the last instant, managing to escape my grip by tugging her ankle away.

I let go, lest the force of the twist managed to throw me off balance.

Still in the air, and with a grace only seen in acrobatics, she kicked at my head with both of her feet, using the impact to sail away and smoothly land on the floor next to Agnes and the Shadow holding her captive.

The fight entered a brief lull.

The two of us were breathing a little too fast, neither eager to launch another attack.

She was formidable. But my frustration was getting to me as I should have been able to easily beat some nameless Shadow goon. Even one who was undeniably a prodigy.

To make matters worse, the way she was standing gave off the sense that she wasn't struggling. 

Motioning me forward with her palm like I had initially done, only pissed me off more.

So with that, I ran forward, fully intent on crushing her within the next two moves.

Only to stop when she used her foot to kick a vase my way.

The porcelain shattered on my forearm, distracting me for just a split second.

Apparently that was enough.

Like a snake, she slithered into my guard, her body coiled and letting fly sharp strikes to my joints.

Particularly, targeting the legs. There was an urge to use super speed to escape, but I pressed down on it and kicked off with the foot of my right leg, creating some distance between us.

That said, my left leg was numb from the knee down. She got me. And I hadn't even underestimated her. She's good.

And she knew that as well, the snake style martial arts she was using changing into a fusion of Praying

Mantis and Crane style.

It slightly impressed me how naturally smooth her martial arts were.

"Your kungfu is better than mine."

I flatly admitted. It's not everyday someone my age managed to push me back.

She cocked her head at me. Are the Shadows under strict orders never to speak? Because she had not said a single word since we started.

But that is inconsequential. What mattered was getting the Lazarus Invite. And there was only one way to do that. By beating her.

For the second time, we circled each other, both of us sizing their opponent.

Most martial arts don't have an entire style dedicated to counter them. For example Karate does not necessarily beat kungfu.

So when fighting an expert martial artist, it's not a matter of using a style that is stronger, it's a matter of reading your opponent and figuring out their own inherent limitations.

I moved in with a few probing attacks, trying to get a read on her limitations.

Like before, she met me with her unorthodox fighting style, using the environment to her advantage.

At one point we were on top of the stairs, having pushed her back by relying on a never ending chain of attacks and her inherent shortcomings that I had just begun to notice. 

She had a shorter reach than I did and if I were to deny her that, I could win this.

I spent 2 years learning Taekwondo. Let's see what she'll do, once I deny her proximity to land her attacks.

The next clash, I instigated. The whip kick that went flying for her face forced her to back away with a roll.

But I followed through, anticipating where she would end up and kicking out fast enough to ensure she couldn't dodge.

My heel smacked bodily on her forearms but after the first few blows launched her back, she didn't dare tank the attacks again.

She started sliding with the momentum, skidding on her silent feet.

And whenever I overextended an attack, she would slip through and deliver her own retaliation.

Only to find that I had a plan for that as well, incorporating Sambo's quick attacks and deft arm grappling techniques that she was keen to avoid. Knowing that once I grabbed her, it was over.

Despite that, I couldn't get an inch in.

It was like fighting oil. And I was getting weary of her evasive maneuvers. While I was stronger and faster with my reactions, she was nimbler and knew how to move better.

But the biggest issue was that she was just too adaptable. A genius of fighting who could adjust to my attacks faster than I could to hers.

So what I did was keep up a relentless wave of attacks, using a blend of combat styles to raise the bar whenever she learnt how to counter my counter-attacks.

Thus it became a game of who could bait the other into making the false move fast.

We ended up moving across the room as the tempo of the fight increased. I pushed her towards the wall but she sprang off it and swung on the Chandelier before coming down with an axe kick.

I received it with another hasty cross guard but was too late to evade the leg sweep.

For a second I considered using my speed. Just a tiny bit and I could transition my fall into a bicycle kick.

Instead I used my hands and flipped backwards. She took that opportunity to throw a mule kick that landed solidly on my belly.

The impact actually shook me, but there was no time to digest it as I suddenly found myself ontop of the dinner table, trading fast punches and kicks like some exaggerated kungfu movie fight scene.

Yet it was happening. The Assassin whoever she was, actually kept up with me. My frustration had shifted to excitement once more. An excitement that was born out of being pushed to wits end. 

An excitement that she seemed to share, as almost everything fell away, giving rise to a deadly dance. 

She sneaked through a fast combo after one of my feints failed and delivered a kick to my belly that launched me back.

Flipping across the table to reduce momentum, I landed close to Deathstroke, already in leaping motion...only for the click of a gun to stop me in my tracks.

Just as quickly as it had started, the dance was cut off. 

I was on one knee, the other foot crouched and ready for the lunge that would see me and my opponent re-engage. If it wasn't for the gun held to my head. 

"What do you think you're doing Slade?" I asked lowly. 

"You're breaking your own rules by interfering."

At my words, the barrel of the gun behind me pressed deeper onto my head.

By now the Assassin I was fighting had stopped, her body language saying that she hadn't expected this.

"Rules?"

Slade chuckled as if finding my question funny.

"What does a dead man, in this case, boy know about rules?"

I sighed.

"Okay, let it out. End your stupid Monologue so that I can get back to my fight."

I could almost sense his frustration, but despite acting blase' my full attention was on him and what he had to say.

"You've made some very powerful enemies."

Deathstroke stated,

"Enemies that have paid a pretty sum to see me blow your brains out."

"Tell me something I don't know."

I shot back, denying Shade's request to kill Deathstroke where he sat.

"Tch, you act tough but I know you must be shaking in your boots by now."

Slade voiced.

"Admit it."

"Maybe."

I adjusted my pose into a lotus position, sitting on the table with my legs crossed over each other.

"Or maybe you're just not that much of a threat."

He took some time before answering.

"You say that but I'm the one with a gun to your head."

A snap of his fingers and the rest of the Assassins hidden across the entire Villa jumped out and surrounded me.

Oh so they were no longer trying to hide what this was. Another trap. 

"And don't think I don't know about the Shadow guy."

He added. 

Meaning Shade.

"Even if you miraculously survived a point blank shot to the brain, you have 70 more enemies ready to cut you down."

Snikt!

In response to his words, blades left their sheaths.

I made eye contact with Agnes, who was still held captive by one of them.

My eyes next fell onto her. My opponent. I couldn't read her expression due to the mask obscuring her face but, the way her body moved was like a language in its own.

I smiled, though my wannabe killer couldn't see it.

"Then do it."

"Huh? What? You're not even going to beg for your life?"

He asked, surprise coloring his tone.

"The blood of a conquerer runs through me. I beg no one."

I affirmed, the irony not lost to me. But after a decade of aspiring to usurp my Father's position and succeeding, that was exactly what I had become.

And my pride demanded nothing less.

"Then you'll die, Mr. Savage."

His voice took on a deeper more menacing shift.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"You talk too much. If you don't pull the trigger in the next 3 seconds, you'll lose something more precious than an eye."

"What do you-"

He started but I held up a finger.

"1."

The seat below him exploded in shards of wood and fabric as the loud crack of a bullet rang out in the room.

This was followed by a painful howl from Slade as his dick and balls were blown off. 

Goddammit Shade. You're supposed to wait for 3.

Further introspection was cut off as the 70 or so Shadows jumped at me. 


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