One of the body's most delicate and exposed organs is the eye. Silva took full advantage of this vulnerability to mercilessly disable one of the soldiers.

  Instead of withdrawing his finger, he hooked it inside the soldier's eye socket and yanked his arm downward with force. The soldier's armor, meant to protect, now became his downfall.

  No matter how strong Silva was, fighting four armored men barehanded was nearly impossible. So, he targeted the vital points, exploiting any vulnerabilities he could find. The eyes were his quickest and most lethal target.

  The soldier, still with Silva's finger lodged in his eye, let out an agonizing scream and collapsed. The gap between the helmet and armor exposed the soldier's neck vertebrae, presenting Silva with an opportunity. Seizing the moment, Silva drove his elbow into the soldier's exposed neck with all his weight over 85 kilograms behind the blow.

  Crunch.

  A dull, wet sound filled the hall as the vertebrae shattered beneath Silva's elbow. The soldier crumpled to the floor, blood foaming from his mouth, and lay still.

  Silva quickly grabbed the sword from the fallen soldier's waist and charged toward the remaining three.

  "Take this!" he shouted, sprinting and hurling the sword at the face of the nearest soldier with all his might.

  A look of shock crossed the soldier's face, he hadn't expected Silva to throw his only weapon. Panicking, he raised his halberd and used its shaft to deflect the sword. But that was exactly what Silva wanted. The soldier's action exposed his throat, a gap usually protected by his armor and helmet.

  No matter how well armored a person is, there are always gaps. If not, one must create them.

  Silva thrust his right hand into the exposed throat.

  Thump.

  He felt the trachea crush beneath his hand. While it wasn't an immediate kill, death by suffocation was inevitable for the soldier with a collapsed windpipe.

  Silva quickly withdrew his hand, assuming a defensive stance. Two opponents remained, including the old man.

  "Die!"

  Suddenly, a halberd came at him from behind. Silva grabbed the shoulder of the soldier he had just incapacitated and vaulted over him, using the man's body as a shield.

  Clang.

  The sharp sound of metal striking metal echoed as the halberd's blade, thrust with full force, pierced through the armor of the already fallen soldier, embedding itself in his body.

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  Silva rolled out from behind the fallen man and thrust his right hand into the exposed throat of the soldier still struggling with the stuck halberd.

  The human body is surprisingly durable, a deeply embedded blade can become stuck, difficult to withdraw. Muscles contract more forcefully than most would expect. Moreover, the blade was thrust through armor, further complicating the extraction.

  (Two left.)

  Silva's eyes locked on the remaining opponents. One was the soldier who appeared to be the captain, distinguished by a distinctively decorated helmet, and the other was the robed old man.

  The captain discarded his halberd and drew a sword. After witnessing Silva's tactics, he decided a smaller, more agile weapon would be advantageous. The fourth soldier seemed more skilled than the others; clearly, he was the leader. He positioned the tip of his sword downward, hiding the blade's length on his right side.

  (A side stance... He's trying to conceal his sword's reach... Planning for a single, decisive strike.)

  Silva quickly analyzed the captain's stance. There were only two possible attacks from this position: a horizontal cut from right to left or an upward slash from the right leg to the left shoulder. Any other move would require repositioning, causing a fatal delay.

  As Silva calculated his next move, he suddenly heard the old man's chanting.

  "God of Thunder! God of Storms!"

  Silva glanced back to see the robed old man extending his hand and murmuring something.

  (This isn't good!)

  Until now, Silva had no knowledge of magic or sorcery. But his instincts screamed at him.

  (Dodge!)

  In a split second decision, Silva dashed toward the sword wielding captain, betting everything on this move. He spun to dodge the captain's swing aimed at his torso, moving to his left to get behind him.

  Thud.

  He kicked the unguarded back of the captain, now exposed, and dropped to the ground.

  "By my command, strike down my enemy! Twin Gods' Rampage, Bolt Storm!"

  As Silva hit the ground, a violent gust released from the old man's outstretched hands, hurtling toward him.

  Boom.

  "Is he dead?"

  The elderly sorcerer gasped for breath, his chest heaving from the effort of casting his most lethal spell. Despite his labored breathing, a triumphant smile spread across his weathered face. He had chosen a spell known for its devastating power and rapid incantation the most lethal in his arsenal. No one had ever survived being hit by that spell. He was certain of that.

  This certainty led the old man to lower his guard, neglecting to check if Silva was truly defeated. This proved to be a grave mistake.

  Silva, who had been lying motionless on the ground, sensed the old man's moment of overconfidence and sprang into action.

  His agility was startling, especially given his massive frame, weighing over 85 kilograms. In an instant, he closed the distance between himself and the old man. By the time the sorcerer realized the danger, he was already attempting to cast another spell, but it was too late.

  "What?! This can't be! The all powerful—"

  Thud.

  A deep, resonant sound came from the old man's right side.

  "Gwah!"

  Silva's powerful punch drove the air out of the old man's lungs, interrupting his incantation. Silva's tactic was surprisingly simple. After knocking a soldier down with a kick, he dropped flat to the ground. That was his entire strategy.

  Had the spell been fire based, Silva would have been severely burned, even if the flames hadn't struck directly. If the spell had summoned stone spears from the earth, they would have undoubtedly impaled him. But the spell cast by the old man was a mix of lightning and fierce wind. Both were fatal in their own right, in the old man's estimation.

  However, Silva kicked a metal armored soldier in front of him, diverting the lightning toward the metal. Meanwhile, the violent wind gusted harmlessly above his prone body.