Chapter 58: The Final Blow

I rushed forward before he could recover, intent on finishing the fight while I still had the advantage.

Thors tried to raise his arm to defend himself, but I was faster.

I drove my foot into his face, sending him stumbling sideways before he could properly stand.

He grunted and nearly fell, but he managed to catch himself with one hand against the ground.

I turned toward my Doom Axe and reached for it, intending to end the fight with a decisive strike.

However, Thors moved before I could bring the weapon down.

He darted backward, avoiding my swing, then sprang forward again.

His boot struck the Doom Axe near the haft, knocking it out of my hands and sending it skidding across the stone.

Before I could recover, his fist slammed into my face.

The punch caught me squarely and sent me staggering backward.

My vision blurred, and for a moment, the entire clearing seemed to tilt around me.

I struggled to keep my balance, but my legs felt unsteady, and the pain spreading across my face threatened to overwhelm my concentration.

It hurt. Gods, it hurt.

My jaw throbbed, and I could taste blood in my mouth again.

I had taken too many hits throughout this fight, and my body was finally beginning to show the consequences. My mana was almost depleted, my ribs were aching, and even standing upright required more effort than it should have.

Yet I couldn’t give up here.

I forced myself to straighten, wiping the blood from my mouth as I watched Thors approach.

He looked terrible. His breathing was ragged, and his movements had lost much of their earlier precision.

The poison had weakened him considerably, but his determination was keeping him on his feet.

He charged.

I stepped forward to meet him, drawing on what little strength remained in my body.

Before he could reach me, I activated [Thunderous Roar] once more.

The skill consumed the Rage I had accumulated, resetting the meter to zero as the concentrated burst of mana erupted from my throat.

The roar struck Thors head-on.

His forward momentum stopped abruptly, and his body was thrown backward by the force of the attack. He crashed onto the ground several feet away, his long limbs spreading as he struggled to absorb the impact.

I didn’t waste the opportunity.

I rushed toward him without bothering to retrieve my weapon. The Doom Axe was lying several steps away, but I couldn’t risk giving him enough time to stand again.

My fists would have to be enough.

“Go get him!” I heard Talia yell.

Her voice carried across the clearing, followed by a fresh wave of encouragement from the goblins. I focused on Thors, who was attempting to roll onto his side.

He had one hand pressed against the ground and was trying to push himself upright, but his movements were slow, and his injured arm seemed unable to support his weight properly.

I reached him before he could get up and climbed on top of him, pinning him against the ground.

Thors raised an arm to defend himself, but I shoved it aside before he could use it to push me away.

He tried to bring his other hand up, yet his movements were too sluggish to stop me.

I drew back my fist and punched him in the face. Then I punched him again. And again.

I struck him repeatedly, ignoring the pain that shot through my knuckles with every impact.

My hands were already bruised and swollen from the fight, but I didn’t care.

Every time Thors tried to shield his face, I forced his arms aside and continued striking.

He struggled beneath me, attempting to twist his body and throw me off.

I shifted my weight to keep him pinned, driving another punch into his face before he could get his legs beneath him.

His resistance weakened with each passing moment, and the strength that had allowed him to overpower me earlier was gradually slipping away.

I kept punching.

I wasn’t thinking about technique anymore.

I wasn’t thinking about the legacy, my skills, or the difference between our levels.

All I could think about was making sure he never got the chance to stand up and attack me again.

The dwarf’s movements grew weaker.

His arms, which had been desperately trying to protect him, began to fall away from his face.

He attempted to raise one hand again, but it barely moved before dropping back to the ground.

I struck him once more.

His body jerked beneath me, then went limp.

I stared at him, breathing heavily, but I didn’t immediately stop.

I had seen him pretend to surrender only to attack me when my guard dropped.

I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

I delivered one final punch, watching for any sign of resistance.

His head shifted with the impact, and his body rolled slightly before settling against the ground. His eyes remained closed, and he made no attempt to move.

I waited for several seconds, my chest rising and falling as I struggled to catch my breath.

When he showed no sign of getting back up, I finally climbed off him.

My knuckles throbbed painfully, and my entire body felt as though it had been beaten with iron rods.

I staggered toward the Doom Axe, bent down, and picked it up by the haft.

The familiar weight settled into my hands, but even holding it upright was becoming difficult.

I turned toward the clearing.

The goblins were staring at me eagerly, their expressions filled with disbelief and excitement.

Some had their mouths open, while others exchanged glances as if they were still trying to understand what they had witnessed.

The humans, on the other hand, remained tense.

Their weapons were still in their hands, and several had begun moving closer to Thors.

I raised the Doom Axe overhead, ready to bring it down and finish what I had started.

But before I could move, one of the…

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