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Chapter 91: The Unstoppable Jack Rust
🕑 Added 2023-01-20 17:36:09 +0000 UTCJack stood opposite Alexander Petrovic, glaring into his eyes.
He hadn’t forgotten how Alexander tried to murder Vivi, his friend and ally. He also hadn’t forgotten how the Ice Peak shamed humanity by prostrating like cowards. And most importantly, he hadn’t forgotten that Alexander was only a stepping stone. The real enemy was Rufus Emberheart.
“Bring out your strongest form, Alexander Petrovic,” Jack declared, cracking his knuckles. His fighting spirit surged out and blanketed the stage. “This will be over quickly.”
The other man frowned. His short blond hair glistened in the morning sun, and his piercing blue eyes tried to see all the way to Jack’s soul.
“You underestimate me,” he said simply.
“You do not know your place. You are just a big dog. How could you possibly stop me?”
“What would that make your ally, then? Worse than a dog?”
“Wild dogs can eat humans. But when the hunter arrives, there is only one path: death. Unless you plan to submit to me, too, as you did to the slightly larger dog you serve.”
Gasps ran through the spectator stands. Insulting Rufus while hidden in a large crowd was one thing; doing it openly was another. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time for Jack. As he had told the head judge, he was a troublemaker, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Your tongue runs, American. Let’s see it freeze.”
The temperature dropped sharply throughout the arena. Jack felt it up-close for the first time, unprotected by the energy ceiling of the stage. It was cold, yes—perhaps dozens of degrees below freezing point. To his highly-strengthened body, it was merely a chill.
Contrary to his boasts, Alexander did assume his ice form immediately. The glacial egg appeared around him, and half a minute later, it cracked open, revealing a man clad in ice. He had ice wings, an ice tail, two ice swords, and his arms were covered in ice to the shoulder. Even his feet were encased in ice, such that they resembled talons.
Alexander’s body itself now exuded a deep cold.
Jack let that all happen. He did not strike the egg, only watched with arms crossed.
“You sure took your time,” he said when Alexander emerged. “I was getting bored out here. Thought I’d eat an ice-cream.”
“You are arrogant, American.”
“No. I am strong.”
Jack clenched his fists and assumed a fighting stance.
He hadn’t managed to develop a fighting style yet. He had fought against Sparman for several hours last night, all the way until the moon reached its peak, but he got nowhere. Unfortunately, his current strength was enough to overpower Sparman’s fifth level but lose catastrophically to the sixth, and neither option was suitable for developing a fighting style.
However, he could feel that he was close; all he lacked was fighting experience with his current level of skills. He hoped that Alexander could give him that.
The ice man flew forth. He left traces of snow behind him as the air froze over, and anything his feet touched became ice. His twin swords cried and whistled as they came crashing down on Jack.
One would argue that fighting bare-chested wasn’t the best way to go about this. Jack, however, had his reasons. Anything between himself and the heat of the battle limited his connection to the Dao and hampered his progress—or, at least, so he felt.
He stepped back, anticipating Alexander’s attack. Though he was durable, he was reluctant to block those blades with his hands. As Alexander approached, Jack shot out a hail of jabs.
His hand moved back and forth so quickly it left afterimages. His closed fist punched the air, letting its shockwave travel forward and explode on Alexander’s body. Thanks to Drill’s advancement, he could now shoot his fists up to nine feet away.
Alexander hadn’t expected that. The moment he approached Jack, shockwaves flew at him like ghost fists. They arrived a dime a dozen and crashed hard into him, instantly halting his momentum and sending him flying back. Alexander rolled on the ground, and Jack was already there, having closed the distance.
He punched repeatedly. Every strike was hard and fast, barely kept at bay by Alexander’s defenses. Alexander tried to block, parry, and redirect, but always found himself on the back foot. He tried to strike back, but Jack now had perfect balance and control of his body, and he could dodge while still shooting out punches.
A fist landed clean on Alexander’s face, two more in his sternum, and a fourth on his left wing, shattering it in the process. The audience watched in silent shock for a moment before cheering.
Compared to Rufus’s absolute demonstrations of power, it was easy to forget that Jack had never come close to losing in the tournament so far. Some battles had been more difficult than others, but he always emerged the clear, undisputed victor. In this tournament, he was undoubtedly one of the top contenders.
But Dorman had been the same until he ran into Rufus. Jack had to get even stronger.
His fists crashed down mercilessly, pushing his opponent to a corner. Alexander finally managed to escape and make some space, bruised and battered as he was, but he couldn’t fly with only one wing. He was forced to remain on the sand, where Jack gave him no time to rest.
In no time at all, they were clashing again. Alexander brandished his swords and even his stalactite-tipped tail, but it was useless; thanks to Drill, Jack had the longer reach! And thanks to his high Physical, he won frontal collisions, too!
Moreover, he had discovered a neat trick: he didn’t have to use his fist to clash against the blade. He could send out a Drill punch just before the moment of impact. The reduction in strength wasn’t too large.
That goes to say, Alexander was completely cornered. His attacks didn’t land once; his defense couldn’t stand up to Jack’s strength; he couldn’t even fly, as one of his wings was broken. What else was he supposed to do!?
He opened his mouth and unleashed a cone-shaped blizzard. A meteor crashed into it, stopping it thoroughly and exploding it back into Alexander’s face. He barely stepped back in time to avoid a second meteor, but just the shockwave was enough to blast him screaming into the far wall.
“Had enough?” Jack laughed, standing in the middle of the arena.
Alexander flew out of the debris. He changed tactics. The ice on his person melted away, becoming pure white mana that flowed into the ground. The ground under Jack’s feet became slick ice. Towering glacial walls rose around him and sought to crush him.
Jack only laughed. He didn’t even try to dodge. In the end, no matter how hard Alexander tried, it was only ice.
And Jack’s fists were harder.
Purple light blazed in the arena as the ice walls exploded, revealing large, circular holes the size of doors. Jack easily darted through before the other walls smashed him into paste.
Ice statues rose from the ground. There were white-capped dwarves wielding pickaxes, barbarian lumberjacks hoisting large axes, thin people with long limbs, as well as two polar bears. They all moved to fight him as if alive. At the same time, Alexander opened his arms wide. Finger-sized ice pikes materialized out of thin air and flew at Jack.
Jack laughed again. Alexander was grasping at straws here, simply throwing every attack he could think of.
His punches fell like rain. All statues were shattered. The slick ice under Jack’s heels was broken by strong stomps, and the small ice pikes couldn’t penetrate his indomitable skin. The larger ones, he met with his knuckles, shattering them.
A wall of ice larger than any other appeared to block Jack’s way. He couldn’t see through it. It must have been extremely thick; while he was fighting the statues, Alexander had spent the entire time conjuring it.
The wall stretched dozens of feet high, possibly a hundred. Jack had to tilt his head to see the top—it was even taller than the energy wall, which rose and formed a large dome around the stage, as it did for flying fighters.
Jack wasn’t really sure what Alexander intended to do with this wall, but it was pretty damn big. Then, slowly but surely, it began to fall.
Jack could have tried to dodge it, but that was too easy. It smelled like a trap. So instead, he shot off the ground, rearing back his fist. It shone like a purple star. Colors and sounds were absorbed by it, leaving only a man faced with a gigantic, thick sheet of ice. He took his time, pouring his entire body and mind into the strike.
This was the strongest attack Jack had ever unleashed.
It crashed into the ice with a tremendous boom, shaking everyone’s ears and making their vision waver. The intense light and searing heat were blocked by the energy wall, so the audience was safe, but the wall was not.
A large, bowl-shaped crater was carved in it, the size of an entire room. It stretched ten feet into the ice but hadn’t reached the other end—it had barely crossed the halfway point.
The wall’s fall had been momentarily halted by Jack’s attack, but it resumed, and Jack was still airborne. For all his power, he couldn’t fly, and the momentum of his Meteor Punch had been absorbed into forming the crater.
“Shit,” he said. The giant wall of ice fell on him and smashed against the ground. Its weight was such that the entire arena shook greatly, making the standing spectators lose their balance for a moment.
The wall must have weighed tens of tons, and it had all crashed on Jack’s head.
Everyone held their breath for a moment. Then, laughter resounded from somewhere, seeping through the ice. With a deafening boom, part of the ice wall exploded outward in a circular hole, out of which leaped Jack.
“You fool,” he said, charging Alexander at full-tilt. “I made a crater!”
The audience cheered. Jack was still pristine, not having suffered a single hit. As for Alexander, he was standing straight across the arena, but his brows were furrowed. Seeing Jack charge him, he raised an open palm. Thick sheets of ice materialized in front of him, acting as shields. At the same time, he prepared to shoot ice spikes at the sides or above, in case Jack dodged the sheets.
Ice was a predominantly defensive Dao. However, the fist was predominantly offensive—and Jack was stronger than Alexander.
He clenched a purple fist, stealing the world’s colors. The sound of his footsteps faded as the ice turned paler. He drove his fist through the ice sheets, piercing and shattering them all like glass. His punch met Alexander’s face straight-on, exploding like a meteor and sending him flying back head-first to ram into a wall.
The people cheered.
Jack stopped his advance, panting a bit. His forearm now sported shallow red cuts from the ice, but other than that, he was unhurt. He stared at Alexander, who was struggling to stand. His nose was broken, his entire face was bloodied, but his most wounded part was his pride.
Jack didn’t pursue the attack; he simply stared at Alexander with the gaze of a conqueror. His point was clear, as was the battle’s winner. He didn’t intend to kill his opponent and be disqualified here, anyway.
“Had enough?” he asked again, and this time, Alexander had no retort.
After a moment’s hesitation, he uttered, “I resign.” The crowd erupted in cheers. Jack raised a fist into the air, and the cheers intensified. He laughed out loud.
He had struck back against Rufus’s mental warfare. He, too, had obliterated his opponent—though he, too, was a clear counter.
Most importantly, he had proven himself as Earth’s strongest human.
“Remember this the next time you bully my allies, dickhead,” he roared at Alexander, pointing a finger at him. A loser had no right to retort. This last provocation was for Vivi, though he kept himself discreet. This was her battle to fight, not his. His real opponent was still waiting. “Now run to your master like the good dog you are and tell him to sleep in fear. Jack Rust is coming.”
They were already irreconcilable enemies—what did he have to lose?
Alexander did not respond. He conjured a staircase of ice and walked back to his seat in the stands, where his people welcomed him with a deep nod. He did not respond, only sat on his chair and closed his eyes.
The Ice Peak was not the Flame River. Even if he lost, Alexander Petrovic would never show weakness, or he’d be backstabbed in the blink of an eye. He had reserved enough mana to return to his seat gracefully.
The crowd still cheered as Jack jumped on top of the giant wall of ice and raised his fist in triumph. A moment later, magic flashed from the djinns responsible for cleaning up, and the wall disappeared. Jack returned to his seat with a wide smile.
“Hey,” Vivi was the first to speak. “That was pretty tame. I expected you to yell about taking revenge for me.”
“Well, I kinda did, but I kept it low-key. Why? Do you need me to take revenge for you?” he asked, a brow raised.
A grin crept on Vivi’s face. “No. I will take it myself. I just didn’t know you were so…thoughtful.”
“I know you are not a damsel in distress, Vivi. You can handle your own battles. It’s part of your charm,” he said with a wink, and Vivi couldn’t help but nod smilingly.
“Thank you, Jack.”
“No problem. It’s what allies do, right?” he replied with a big smile. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide a smile.
“Jack,” Dorman said, walking up to him. “Good luck in the finals.”
“Thanks. I actually have something to ask of you, Dorman,” Jack said, turning to him. “I need a training partner for today. Are you up for it?”
Dorman raised a brow, then grinned widely. “Of course,” he replied simply.
Edgar and the Flame River fell on Jack to congratulate him, and the Sage nodded wisely. The head judge’s voice came again.
“Tomorrow at dawn, we will watch the final battle of the Integration Tournament. Rufus Emberheart and the Dao of Supremacy versus Jack Rust and the Dao of the Fist. The greatest genius of Earth-387 will be declared tomorrow!”
The crowd cheered and stomped their feet on the wooden stands, raising a thunderous sound that echoed throughout the Integration City. Behind the curtain, Rufus nodded. Atop the white tower, the C-Grade lioness turned her head.
And in one particular estate of the participant district, a bald monk with a sharp beard had his brows furrowed as he desperately argued against an invincible opponent.
Finally, his brow relaxed. A wide smile appeared on his face. “Thank you, Master!” he roared, laughing.
Comments
Oliver
If he doesn't use his FISTFRUITtm and his auction thing now I'm going to throw my phone in the ocean
Broham
Awww shit just got real
