asconian's blog

Marcus III still lay motionless in the mud of the island, breathing heavily after being defeated in front of both armies. Sebastian stood over him covered in sweat, mud and blood, his chest rising violently while the soldiers of Urbik roared in celebration around the riverbanks. The island finally had an owner. But the humiliation was too much.

Viktor stared at his defeated king and something changed in his eyes. Pure rage. The gigantic bodyguard suddenly stormed toward Sebastian like a beast out of control.

“Get away from him!” he roared.

Sebastian barely had time to turn because in that exact instant Marcos stepped directly in front of him and stopped Viktor with one brutal hand against his chest. Even the giant staggered backward from the impact. The two massive men stood face to face, motionless, tense and dangerous. The hatred between them felt even worse than the rivalry between the kings themselves because this came from years back. Old fights. Old scars. Old unfinished business.

Viktor slowly smiled while clenching his fists.

“Always jumping in to protect your little prince.”

Marcos never even looked back at Sebastian.

“You’re not touching him.”

The wind crossed the island as soldiers from both kingdoms slowly backed away. Nobody wanted to stand near those two monsters.

“And what if I decide to move you first?” Viktor asked coldly.

Marcos smiled without warmth.

“You’ve been trying for years. I would break all your bones”

And then it happened.

Viktor threw the first punch. A monstrous shot. Marcos barely blocked it in time before answering with a savage right hand to the face that snapped the giant’s head sideways. The sound echoed across the island. This was no longer a fight between kings.

This was war between predators.

The two men launched themselves at each other with terrifying violence, crashing together like enraged bulls. Their enormous arms hammered with frightening force while they shoved and grappled across the wet mud. Brutal punches. Crushing knees. Short elbows. Bone-breaking grabs. Every impact sounded powerful enough to tear through stone.

Viktor drove Marcos backward into one of the ancient ruins. The sergeant’s back slammed hard against the stone, but Marcos instantly answered with three devastating punches to the ribs that forced even the giant to grunt in pain.

And smile.

“Now this is getting fun.”

The soldiers watched in stunned silence. They had never seen men that huge move with such speed and brutality. They no longer looked human.

They looked like war machines.

And then Sebastian began to understand something.

Watching Marcos truly fight, seeing the savage violence in his movements, the monstrous precision of his strikes and the ease with which he absorbed punishment that would destroy ordinary men, the young king suddenly remembered the fight they had shared back in the palace hall.

And he understood the truth. Marcos had held back that night. A lot.

Because the man now fighting in the mud of the island did not seem human. He looked like a titan. A military monster built to destroy bodies with his bare hands.

Sebastian even felt a slight chill run through him.

If Marcos had truly wanted to hurt him during their fight in the palace… he probably could have destroyed him in seconds.

And worse still, Sebastian realized something else immediately:

Next time they fought… Marcos would not hold back nearly as much.

For the first time, the young king truly understood that no matter how strong he had become, he still was not on the same level as his own bodyguard.

Viktor suddenly launched a savage hook that split open Marcos’s cheekbone. Blood appeared instantly, but the sergeant barely reacted. He wiped his mouth, with his forearm and answered with a brutal punch to the stomach that forced even the giant backward several steps. Then both men charged again.

The collision was monstrous.

They rolled through the mud punching each other from inches away like rabid animals. Their massive muscles shone beneath sweat and dirt while they traded brutal blows without stopping for even a second. Marcos fought with precise military technique, targeting joints, ribs and the liver. Viktor answered with pure savage strength, trying to crush him through raw power alone.

For several moments Viktor managed to overpower the sergeant physically and began hammering him with short punches to the face and body.

“You were always beneath me!” he roared.

Marcos absorbed the punishment while breathing heavily.

And then he smiled. That single moment of confusion was enough.

Marcos trapped one of Viktor’s arms, twisted violently and hurled the giant into the mud with brutal technique. Dirt exploded into the air. Before Viktor could rise, Marcos crashed down on top of him and both men began smashing punches into each other wildly on the ground while soldiers from both kingdoms screamed around them.

Mud. Blood. Sweat. Animal breathing.

The fight had become completely primal.

Viktor finally kicked Marcos away violently and both giants staggered back to their feet. Their lips were split open, faces swollen and torsos covered in dark mud. Yet they still kept advancing because neither man knew how to retreat.

Viktor roared furiously and unleashed a monstrous combination directly into Marcos’s face and ribs. The sergeant actually lost his balance for a moment. The soldiers of Varelia began shouting, believing the fight was finally over.

MISTAKE.

Marcos slowly raised his head. His eyes were still cold. Dangerous.

Then he moved forward like a beast.

A savage hook to the liver. A crushing elbow to the jaw. And finally a monstrous punch that violently snapped Viktor’s head sideways.

The giant dropped to one knee for the first time.

Marcos breathed like an exhausted animal as he slowly approached him.

“You always had strength,” he growled. “But you never had discipline.”

Viktor roared and charged one final desperate time.

The final mistake.

Marcos slipped aside by inches, trapped his rival’s arm and used all his strength to smash him brutally against the ancient stones of the island. The impact was horrifying. Before Viktor could recover, Marcos drove two devastating punches directly into his face.

The giant collapsed motionless into the mud.

Absolute silence.

Only Marcos’s heavy breathing could be heard beneath the wind coming off the river. The massive sergeant stood over his defeated rival covered in blood, mud and sweat. It had been the most brutal fight of his life because Viktor had truly been exactly like him: equally strong, equally savage, equally monstrous.

But in the end only one beast remained standing. He looked to Sebastian and smiled.

And that night, on the disputed island of Roven, Marcos proved that even among monsters… he was the most dangerous of them all.