"Do you surrender?" were the words that echoed in Khabixan's head like a thunderous roar.

He was almost unconscious, watching as a tall, burly figure loomed imposingly in front of him. He tried to get up, but his battered and bruised body wouldn't let him.

"Do you surrender?" the guttural voice echoed in his head again.

Khabixan opened his eyes fully, surprised to see Thamuz looking down at him while he lay on the ground, covered in dust and blood. Then, he suddenly regained his composure, delivering a sharp blow with the sole of his foot to Thamuz's knee in a desperate move.

Thamuz knelt with a cry of pain from the tremendous blow he had just received, while Khabixan leaped to his feet, landing a devastating spinning kick to Thamuz's chin with all his might.

"Hey, that's illegal!" shouted Tawnylon from the stands, outraged.

"Actually," Armesto interjected calmly, "for several years now, Zarakel has allowed all kinds of moves in shamonak fights, from kicks to bites."

"That bastard, he's a dirty scoundrel," protested Tawnylon, turning his gaze to Zarakel with eyes burning with fury.

Zarakel was sitting on his large chair, glancing at Tawnylon and sporting a sinister grin. He grabbed the knife he had in his hands and pointed it at the sun, lowering it slowly toward the violent fight in a threatening gesture.

"Now, Khabixan, play a bit with the boy. When he’s more distracted, use that special technique you always have up your sleeve. That will surely kill him." said Zarakel, with an evil smirk

The kick Khabixan had given Thamuz was strong enough to make his head snap to the right with a chilling crunch. But then, Thamuz began to slowly turn his head back, looking at Khabixan with a horrifying sound of broken bones, as if his neck were made of loose pieces.

"What the hell are you?" said Khabixan, puzzled and terrified by Thamuz's supernatural resilience.

Thamuz lunged at Khabixan like an enraged beast, trying to embrace him with his massive arms, but Khabixan delivered another sharp kick to his head. However, Thamuz ignored the pain, advancing more and more, trying to grab Khabixan at all costs.

"I have to keep him away with these kicks, if he grabs me again, it's over for me," said Khabixan, his voice showing desperation.

Meanwhile, Thamuz was still trying to grab some part of Khabixan's body, completely ignoring the kicks his opponent was giving him, until he managed to grab his rival's right side with an iron grip.

"Just what I wanted you to do," said Khabixan, a sinister smile spreading across his face.

Khabixan grabbed the hand with which Thamuz was holding him, spun around with absurd agility, and, pressing Thamuz's arm tightly against his right side, lifted him with a roar of effort, slamming him back to the ground with a crash that echoed outside the stadium.

"Stay down, damn it," growled Khabixan, his green eyes gleaming with a savage light.

An eerie laugh echoed throughout the stadium, it was Thamuz, who had his hand covering his disfigured face, laughing in a spooky, deranged manner.

"What happened to you, have I knocked you down so many times that you're crazy now?" asked Khabixan, puzzled and disturbed by Thamuz's chilling reaction.

Thamuz abruptly stopped laughing, getting up again with difficulty, turning his back on Khabixan. His laughter had sounded like the lament of a tormented spirit, chilling the blood of the spectators.

Khabixan seized the opportunity and lunged to deliver another lethal kick to Thamuz's neck, but when his foot connected, he felt a sharp pain shooting through his entire leg.

"Now, what are you going to do?" said Thamuz in a harsh voice, turning his head to glance at Khabixan with bloodshot eyes.

Khabixan stepped back, clutching his foot, gasping from the unbearable pain.

"His neck hardened on contact with my foot, if I had landed that kick on any other fighter I would have broken their neck," Khabixan pondered, never taking his eyes off Thamuz with growing fear.

Thamuz stood up completely, facing Khabixan, lowering himself into a stance and lunging at his opponent again with an animalistic growl.

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Khabixan responded with a kick to Thamuz's chin, followed by several kicks to his ribs, but Thamuz seemed to feel nothing. It was like hitting a rock.

"Damn, my feet are hurting," lamented Khabixan in his mind, noticing the supernatural hardness of Thamuz's body.

In his desperation, his mind clouded for a moment, until he was brought back to reality by a terrifying sensation, the sensation of extraordinary strength crushing him.

It was Thamuz, who had managed to grab his right shoulder with his hand, and seeing this, Khabixan smiled arrogantly again.

"Stupid fool, you never learn," he said, grabbing his hand again to attempt his move.

But he couldn't perform the same hold on Thamuz, now he felt incredibly heavy, as if the entire planet was crashing down on his shoulders with tremendous force.

"How is this possible?" stammered Khabixan, turning his head to look at Thamuz with eyes wide with fear.

Thamuz was staring him in the eyes, with a palm strike ready for a long time. He unleashed all his strength in that devastating blow, hitting Khabixan's shoulder with a chilling snap.

Khabixan was thrown to the side, spinning violently on the ground until he stopped abruptly, nearly falling out of the combat arena. His shoulder appeared to be dislocated at an unnatural angle.

The entire stadium fell into a deathly silence, no one dared to utter a sound at the violent scene they were witnessing. Even Zarakel watched with his mouth open, his knife slipping from his almost trembling fingers.

"That's how it's done, Thamuz!" shouted Narek from his seat with a resonant voice.

Narek's shout echoed throughout the immense stadium, rekindling the flame of all the spectators, who shouted and cheered Thamuz's name in a deafening roar.

Khabixan was still lying on the ground, gasping and battered, while Thamuz walked towards him with a firm step, stopping when he saw Khabixan struggling to get up.

"This can't be..." said Khabixan between gasps and the superhuman effort of standing up with one arm, the other hanging limp.

Thamuz watched him from afar, spitting a viscous, almost coagulated clump of blood from his mouth, while Khabixan had fully risen, staggering.

Khabixan checked his entire body, noticing his dislocated shoulder, his bruised and battered feet, his back on the verge of breaking, and his head spinning.

"This can't be," he repeated to himself with a lost look.

Khabixan lifted his gaze, observing Thamuz's body with wide eyes, his skin covered in what seemed to be jet-black scales, providing supernatural protection to his opponent.

"I see, your body adapted to my kicks," said Khabixan, letting out a slight, stifled laugh.

"That’s what I see too. For a moment, I didn't feel anything when you hit me," Thamuz confirmed in a rough voice, crossing his arms.

"It's not fair," Khabixan whispered, directing his gaze to the ground, defeated.

"What are you talking about? What's not fair?" Thamuz questioned, puzzled by Khabixan's words.

A tense silence reigned in the arena as the two warriors studied each other. Then, Khabixan lifted his face toward Thamuz, his eyes burning with fury.

"It's not fair that someone like you, who has never set foot in a shamonak arena, can beat me! Azhamat has blessed you with a body capable of withstanding a lot of physical punishment, superhuman strength, and adaptability. Meanwhile, what has he given me? Weakness from birth, poverty, misery, and a frail body. I had to break my bones in training to perfect my techniques, defeat many rivals to be considered one of the strongest, only for a nobody, a gifted individual, to come and defeat me like this!"

Khabixan's bitter complaint echoed throughout the immense stadium, moving some spectators, who clasped their hands and began to pray silently to Azhamat, while others looked at Khabixan mockingly, throwing trash and booing him.

Thamuz was impressed by his passionate outburst. He lowered his arms along his body and meditated in deep silence until he slowly raised his head, locking eyes with Khabixan in a duel of stares.

"I guess that's how life is. There will always be someone much better than you. Even in this vast universe, there could be someone much stronger than me. But you've lived in a bubble that makes you believe you’re the best at one thing, when you're just a person who has only focused on being the best at that one thing, making it their main point in life. It will be much harder for you to process that there will be someone capable of surpassing you."

Thamuz's calm yet profound words struck Khabixan's mind like a hammer, making him shed a few tears of helplessness. He wiped them away with his movable forearm and lowered his head, defeated.

"I guess you're right. I've trained my techniques so much that I've only focused my life on them, on combat. But now I see that you've surpassed me, so I ask you to end this fight. I'm done," he said in a rough voice, raising his head a bit to look Thamuz in the eyes.

"I will grant your wish," Thamuz said solemnly, lunging at Khabixan at breakneck speed.

Thamuz was just a few inches away, using a palm strike to finish Khabixan once and for all, but he noticed something on his face, a slight, defiant smile.

With his last strength, Khabixan dodged Thamuz's palm with an agile move, grabbing his right forearm, lifting him into the air, and slamming him to the ground with a beastly roar.

"Yes, he did it! He used his best technique!" exclaimed Zarakel, jumping out of his seat with excitement.

A chilling crunch was heard, while Khabixan smiled triumphantly, still clinging with all his might to Thamuz's arm in a final, desperate attempt.

But a sound immediately frightened him; it was Thamuz, who, with his abyssal strength, grabbed Khabixan with the same arm being held. He also lifted his opponent into the air and, with a cry that showed primordial anguish and anger, slammed him to the ground with such overwhelming violence that the combat arena split in two with a deafening crash.

Khabixan collapsed on the ground, his eyes turning a milky white, unconscious. Thamuz looked at him impassively, watching as his chest moved slowly, showing his struggle to stay alive after the devastating impact.

But then he felt a lacerating pain in his arm, the same arm that Khabixan had made his final desperate hold on. He lifted it to observe, noticing it was dislocated at an unnatural angle.

"Truly, it was the best technique," Thamuz said in a rough voice, returning his gaze to Khabixan with renewed respect.

A deathly silence reigned in the stadium as the spectators contemplated the almost apocalyptic scene. The arena was shattered, with cracks and craters everywhere. Thamuz raised his dislocated arm, showing himself as the victor.