The Conquerors Path

Chapter 955: Chapter 953-Giants Fall.

The fight escalated from there, turning into a whirlwind of fury. Qwill unleashed a barrage of punches, each one faster than the last, his arms blurring into a storm of blows. I weaved through them, dodging most, taking a few on my guards to feel the burn, to let the pain fuel my act. One grazed my cheek. I retaliated with a spinning kick to his thigh, the impact echoing like thunder. He grunted, leg buckling for a second, but he powered through, grabbing my extended leg and hurling me across the field.

I tumbled through the air, twisting mid-flight to land on my feet, sliding to a stop with a dramatic flourish. The crowd gasped—perfect. I charged back, our bodies colliding in the centre with a force that cracked the air.

We grappled, muscles straining, breaths hot and ragged against each other’s faces. His grip was like iron vices, crushing my arms, but I broke free with a headbutt that split his brow. Blood poured into his eyes, but he laughed—actually laughed, the mad bastard.

"This is what life’s about!" he bellowed, wiping the blood away with a forearm. His aura flared anew, the tattoos igniting like solar flares, and he grew even larger, muscles rippling, height stretching to nearly eight feet. The ground quaked under him, fissures opening up as his power peaked. I matched it subtly, my golden glow intensifying, my own tattoo roaring to life across my chest, sending waves of divine energy through my veins. My size increased too, but not as grotesquely

I kept it sleek, powerful, like a predator ready to pounce.

We clashed again, fists meeting in a symphony of destruction. Each punch landed with earth-shattering force—BOOM after BOOM, shockwaves blasting outward, hurling debris into the stands. I took a solid hit to the gut, doubling over for effect, letting the wind get knocked out of me.

I unleashed a combo: left hook to his jaw, right cross to his temple, followed by a knee to the solar plexus. He staggered, spitting blood, but came roaring back with a sweeping kick that I jumped over, countering with an aerial axe kick that drove him to one knee.

The arena was in chaos now. Spectators screamed, some cheering for Qwill’s brute strength, others for my agility and precision. I could feel their eyes, their awe, and yeah, the affection building—those untouched targets in the crowd, sensing my power without me having to chase them down. But my mind flickered back to that wrongness I’d felt earlier, the world screwing me over. I pushed it down, channelling the frustration into the fight. This was therapy, pure and raw.

Qwill rose, shaking the ground, his eyes wild. "You’re holding back!" he accused, though he couldn’t know how right he was. "Fight me for real!"

I chuckled inwardly. If only you knew, buddy. But aloud, I said, "Alright, let’s crank it up." I let a bit more power slip through, my aura exploding in a golden blaze that lit up the coliseum like a second sun. The heat was intense, baking the air, making sweat evaporate before it could fall. Qwill matched it, his tattoos burning crimson, steam rising from his skin as his body hit its absolute limit.

We blurred into motion, faster than before, our movements a dance of death. He swung a massive overhand, and I countered with a rising uppercut that lifted him off his feet. He crashed down, rolling, but sprang up with a tackle that drove us both into the wall.

Stone crumbled around us, dust choking the air. I elbowed him off, spinning into a roundhouse that sent him flying again. He hit the opposite side, the impact creating a crater, but he was up in an instant, charging with renewed fury.

Punches flew—his to my ribs, cracking bone (or so it felt; I’d heal quickly), mine to his shoulder, dislocating it with a pop. He howled but popped it back in, swinging wildly. I dodged, weaved, struck— a jab here, a hook there, each hit building the momentum. The sonic booms were constant now, a rhythmic thunder that matched our heartbeats. Mine pounded in my ears, adrenaline surging, making everything sharper, more alive.

He grabbed me finally, lifting me high for a suplex. I twisted in his grip, raining elbows down on his head until he dropped me. Landing cat-like, I swept his legs, toppling the giant. As he fell, I mounted him, fists hammering down like pistons. He blocked most, but a few got through—cracking his nose, bruising his cheeks. Blood smeared his face, but his smile never faded. "More!" he demanded, bucking me off with sheer strength.

We rolled apart, bodies battered but spirits unbroken. The crowd was on their feet, chanting names—mine rising louder now. I could feel it, the shift, the affection pouring in. But Qwill wasn’t done. He activated something deeper, his tattoos merging into a single glowing rune on his chest. Energy coalesced into his fists, forming ethereal gauntlets that crackled with power.

"Let’s go!" he roared, lunging with a punch that warped space itself. The air folded around it, a vacuum pulling me in. I met it with my own enhanced strike, golden claws manifesting from my aura. The clash was apocalyptic—lightning arced between us, the ground erupting in geysers of molten rock. We pushed against each other, wills clashing as much as bodies.

I let him gain ground at first, sliding back, feet carving trenches. "Is that all?" I taunted, though my arms trembled for show. Then, with a surge, I reversed it, shoving him back step by step. His eyes widened in surprise as I overpowered him, my true strength peeking through just enough.

He broke away, unleashing a flurry of energy-infused punches. I parried, countered, each block sending sparks flying. One got through, slamming into my chest. I embraced it, using it to fuel a devastating response: a palm strike to his sternum that sent cracks through his aura. He gasped, staggering, the rune flickering.

Now was the time to end it, but dramatically. I feigned exhaustion a little. "Come on, Austin! Finish it!" he urged, fist raised for the kill.

I rose slowly, golden light intensifying, my tattoo roaring audibly now, a deep, primal sound that echoed through the arena. "As you wish."

We charged one last time. His punch came like a comet, but I sidestepped, grabbing his arm and using his momentum against him. I twisted, hurling him skyward. As he peaked, I leapt after, meeting him mid-air with a flying knee to the gut. Air exploded from him, and we plummeted together. I positioned myself above, driving him down with a hammer fist to the back.

The impact was seismic—the coliseum shook, a massive crater forming where we landed. Dust billowed like a mushroom cloud, obscuring everything. When it cleared, Qwill lay there, broken but breathing, his tattoos dimming to embers. I stood over him, chest heaving, bloodied but victorious. The crowd erupted, cheers deafening.

I extended a hand, helping him up. "Good fight," I said, smiling genuinely. He took it, grinning through the pain. "Yeah... you win this time."

Inside, I knew it was never in doubt. But the show? It was perfect. The affection from the crowd surged, and that wrongness from earlier? It could wait. For now, I basked in the glory, heart still pounding from the thrill.

But as the cheers faded, that nagging feeling crept back. Something was off in this world, and this fight was just a distraction. I glanced around, senses sharpening. The hidden ones were watching closer now, their eyes on me. Whatever storm was brewing, I’d face it head-on. After all, I’d just proven I could handle a giant like Qwill without breaking a sweat. Imagine what I’d do when I stopped holding back.

The medics rushed in, but Qwill waved them off, clapping me on the shoulder. "You’re a beast, Austin. Rematch someday?"

The crowd froze—then erupted.

"AUSTIN!"

"LIONHEART!"

"THE KING OF THE NEW ERA!"

The entire coliseum roared my name, and in that moment, a legend was born anew.

....

From the highest seats, Girika exhaled deeply, her eyes trembling. "He did it... he actually did it."

Isabella stood there, her gaze never leaving the man standing in the centre of the field.

....

I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. The fight had cleared my head, steam let off, but the real battle? It was just beginning. I could feel eyes boring into me from the shadows—those new capture targets, drawn in by the spectacle. Affection points are ticking up without a word spoken. Perfect.

As we walked off the field, the coliseum still vibrating from our clash, I whispered to myself,

’One down. Now, what’s next?’

I slipped away into the tunnels beneath the coliseum, the cool stone a balm against my heated skin. Echoes of the crowd followed me, but down here it was quieter, allowing thoughts to creep in. That ’something wrong’ I’d sensed earlier—it wasn’t just paranoia. The world had shifted, like a glitch in the matrix, and my little display had triggered it. Or maybe it was always there, waiting for me to shine too bright.