The blinding remnants of the golden plasma shockwave gradually dissolved into the atmosphere, leaving thin, shimmering particles of light drifting through the area.
Tyson stood his ground, his breathing slightly shallow as he maintained a low, tightly bound boxing stance. His brilliant golden aura hummed softly, a thin layer of perspiration slicking his brow from the immense mental focus required to hold his physical framework together. Opposite him, Lord Malkor slowly lowered his hand from his face,
For a long, heavy moment, neither entity moved.
Then, the smooth, faceted geometric planes of Malkor's diamond head tilted slightly. A low, resonant sound—a chillingly calm chuckle—echoed directly inside Tyson's mind.
"I have finally figured out how your evolith works," Malkor spoke, his voice as cold as ice.
Tyson didn't drop his guard. His boots remained firmly planted in the loose gravel, A sharp, defiant smirk cut through his face.
"Oh yeah?" Tyson replied, his voice echoing cleanly across the area. "That doesn't change a single thing."
Malkor took a single, deliberate step closer. The movement was slow, almost casual, yet the sheer physical presence of the dark entity caused the loose stones near his sandals to vibrate.
"Oh, it does," Malkor murmured.
Malkor brought his hands together behind his back, his tattered dark cloak settling around his sinewy frame.
"You operate under a fascinating illusion of omnipotence, Tyson," Malkor began, his voice echoing with meticulous, chilling detail. "To the uninitiated, it appears as though you possess the divine authority to rewrite reality at your whim. But you do not rewrite anything. You lack the power to invent a single new law. Instead, you merely *bends* the existing laws of physics and nature that the universe has already authored."
On the sidelines, Elias's eyes widened, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his fists tightly.
"Furthermore," Malkor continued, as his eyes narrowed , "this bending is strictly governed by three absolute constraints. First, you cannot erase or abandon a law to escape its consequences. If you bend the law of thermal dynamics to flash-freeze a point of impact, you must obey the equal and opposite reaction—the heat must go somewhere, forcing your own physical vessel to absorb the structural backlash. You are bound by the strict laws of universal compensation."
Tyson's smirk slowly faded, his jaw tightening as his golden aura flickered for a brief fraction of a second.
"Second," Malkor's voice dropped into a lower, more dominant frequency, "your adaptation is entirely dependent on cognitive data. You cannot bend a law you do not fully comprehend, nor can you counter a fighter you have not analyzed. You must personally experience the physical parameters of an opponent's strike—you must take the hit, feel the velocity, and understand the kinetic framework before you can actually bend the law".
Elias frowned deeply, a cold sweat breaking out across his neck as he stepped forward out of the spire's shadow. *"Damn it..."* Elias thought, his teeth grinding in pure disbelief. *"He already found out about Tyson's evolith? Within this short amount of time? That is absolute madness. His analytical speed is insane.,*"
Tyson drew a deep, heavy breath then he smiled despite the complete exposure of his limitations, Tyson's golden eyes burned with a fierce, unyielding light. He dropped deeper into his brawler's stance, his fists clenching until his knuckles popped.
"So you finally figured it out," Tyson frowned, his voice dropping into a gritty, dangerous register. "But knowing the master master master master master plan doesn't mean you have the speed to stop it. That doesn't mean you win."
Then Tyson thought to himself *"this is bad just within this short amount of time have been exposed, he's not just strong, he's really sharp and cautious of he's opponent, that means he must have been testing my skills he's still holding back*".
*BOOM.*
Tyson closed the distance with a lightning-fast three-step dash, his boots tearing up the loose gravel as he drove a vicious, straight left jab directly toward Malkor's face.
Malkor, casually parried the strike with the back of his right palm, deflecting Tyson's fist outward.
Capitalizing on the momentum, Tyson pivoted fluidly on his heel. He dropped his weight low, slipping underneath Malkor's immediate counter-swipe, and delivered a brutal, short-range right hook aimed squarely for Malkor's exposed liver section.
Malkor didn't step back. He brought his left elbow down sharply, catching the inside of Tyson's forearm mid-strike to deaden the kinetic impact. The sound of their collision echoed through the area.
*BANG!*
Without a microsecond of delay, Malkor countered by launching a lightning-fast, vertical palm thrust aimed directly at Tyson's chin.
Tyson snapped his head backward in a perfect slip, the wind from Malkor's palm grazing the tip of his nose.
Before Malkor could retract his hand, Tyson coiled his core and unleashed a devastating, high-velocity spinning back-kick toward Malkor's sternum.
The bottom of Tyson's boot connected squarely with Malkor's chest.
*THOOM!*
The pure physical force of the kick, backed by Tyson's elite musculature, forced the massive entity to slide backward across the stone floorboards. Malkor's sandals scraped sharply against the rock, leaving two parallel burn marks in the dirt before he halted his momentum.
"Fascinating," Malkor murmured, his dark cloak rippling gracefully around his shoulders as he settled back into a neutral posture. "I'm supprised you can still keep up with me".
"I told you," Tyson said as he smiled
"Knowing the rules doesn't save you from getting hit."
Malkor didn't reply with words. Instead, he vanished from sight, utilizing raw, unassisted physical acceleration that rivaled the speed of sound.
Tyson didn't try to calculate a tracking script; he relied entirely on raw, sensory muscle memory. Sensing a sudden shift in the air pressure to his left, Tyson threw up a solid, double-forearm high guard just as Malkor materialized beside him.
Malkor unleashed a relentless, rapid-fire martial combination.
He drove a heavy right straight, followed instantly by a sweeping left hook, a downward hacking elbow, and a brutal knee strike aimed directly at Tyson's ribcage.
Every single strike was delivered with perfect, clinical alignment, targeting the structural weak points of the human skeletal frame.
*BANG! BANG! CRACK! BANG!*
Tyson absorbed the brutal combination, his arms bruising under the intense physical weight of Malkor's blows.
The knee strike caught him squarely in the ribs, the sheer force lifting his boots off the ground and launching him five yards backward.
Tyson hit the gravel hard, rolling over his shoulder to immediately regain his footing, his teeth bared in a snarl of pure determination.
"Is that all you've got?" Tyson roared, sprinting right back into the mouth of the storm.
Tyson ducked inside Malkor's next jab, weaving past his guard with flawless defensive positioning. He entered his own close-range boxing routine, unleashing a relentless barrage of short, explosive upper-cuts and body blows.
His fists blurred into a golden wheel of motion, striking Malkor's chest, ribs, and shoulders in rapid succession.
*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Malkor braced against the assault, his head snapping back slightly as a heavy left hook from Tyson caught him across the jaw.
Malkor body took the impact of the remaining blow.
but Tyson didn't let up for a single breath; he stepped deeper into Malkor's space, using his shoulder to jam Malkor's right arm while driving a massive, pivoting right cross straight into the center of Malkor's face.
*CRACK!*
The raw physical collision of Tyson's knuckles against the faceted gemstone face generated a localized shockwave that blew the surrounding dust into a wide, concentric circle.
Malkor's head snapped to the side, his towering frame stumbling two full steps backward into the ruined bedrock.
Malkor stood in the settling dust, his left hand slowly rising to touch his jaw where Tyson's fist had landed.
"Time to fight for real".