“Dukes up, then, Come now!” Said Anton as he jutted his fists up, protecting his head.
“You’d like to… to fight?” Kip asked.
“Of course! Come now! On with it! Stick up those namby pamby fists of yours. We’re to duel for my son’s honor.”
“Oh, I… I think we should wait a few hours. Maybe… after we’ve all gotten some water and something for a headache.”
“Why do you keep looking behind you? Are you expecting your own father to come and help you? Aren’t you supposed to be the Dark Lord?”
“I am… it’s just… my subject isn’t here.”
“Then fight on your own, you nonce. Lest you make those very subjects look foolish.”
“Aye. I… guess no one’s coming. Maybe still drunk that third barrel of ale. I suppose I’ll have to handle this… myself.”
“Go on then! Stick them up!”
Kip did one last final look back. There were no horns peeking out on the horizon. He had left a note but it seemed as though Zeke was not coming. Kip sighed and took off his glasses, placing them on the ground. “Okay, I suppose we have to fight.”
Anton took off his shirt and his armored cowl. Although he was an older man, his build was sculpted with large muscles. His deltoids were overdeveloped with a healthy chest separation. His biceps met with well formed forearms and his fists were huge. He was mostly balding, with soft blond hairs that were better off being shaved off and fully committing. All the mustache from his head must have traveled to his immaculate blond mustache, freshly waxed.
Kip stuck up his fists as well. He bobbed them back and forth like a kind of boxing pantomime, unsure what he was to do. His claws could work, but would it be unsportsmanlike to use them when this man is using his fists?
“Shall we get a bell count? Come my boy. Bell count your father so he can knock some sense into the dark lord. Onward!”
“3…
2…
1… Go dad!”
Anton was about ten feet away. Two dashes and he slipped within reaching distance. Anton pulled his right back and threw a hook. The size difference gave Kip a window to dip below him. The hook met with nothing but air and Kip was behind him.
Kip reached out and punched him in the glutes, he felt nothing but a hard wall.
“Oh, you haven’t heard about the famous glutes passed down from my grandfather? Sorry. You’re better off connecting with some other underdeveloped muscle,” Hh chuckled, “If you can find one.”
Kip punched below the glutes, railing into the hamstrings.
“Ah! My hamstring!”
Kip felt a little bit of energy behind his punches. He had been in a few fights at this point and could feel the muscles that had developed. Still, the punches felt vapid. It was all arm, no back or legs, and he could not develop the power enough to work some weight into Anton The Antagonizer’s lower half.
Anton spun his torso around, his fist scooping at the ground. Kip saw it and in just enough time he screamed out “Burst!” And jumped up high. Anton’s errant punch landed on a tree instead. As soon as the fist touched the trunk, an actual explosion rang out where the knuckles made contact. What was left was a large hole through the old, thick pine.
“What in the what?!” Yelled Kip as he fell back down. Anton was waiting for him, already recovering from the punch. He arced his elbow over Kip, striking him in the back with a downward elbow strike, driving him into the ground with a resounding force.
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Kip smashed against the ground, rolling and then scrambling to pick himself up, jumping backward as Anton approached.
“What was that?! You can punch through trees!”
“Course I can. Why else do you think I fight with my fists? It’s my boon, dear boy.”
“Your boon?”
“You see, I was up against a rowdy row of magma jabblers. Nasty little vermin. I had a medley of ordinances to blow them away. Water scrolls. Fire resistant gear and the like. But the gods presented me with a challenge. I was to beat them with merely my fists you see. It allowed me to embed their ability to destruct within my fists and that is how I became known as ‘The Fist of the Ulmund Kingdom.’”
Kip shook his head angrily, “I… I was holding back, I suppose. Okay, claws are on the table!” Kip said nervously.
“Whatever.” Anton stepped closer. He bucked his torso back and teeped Kip right in the face. The foot smashed him in the snout and caused him to fall backward onto a bramble.
The brute approached. Kip looked up at him, He was blocking the morning sun, the orange around him washed out his menacing smile and only made him into a vulgar silhouette, indistinguishable from an orc or bugbear. He clamped his hands, raised them above his head, and smashed down on Kip.
Kip didn’t have any chance to get away as the fist slammed down on him. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he was driven further into the ground.
“Please, not the explosion fists!” Coughed Kip.
“Oh, it’s going to be the explosion fists.” Said Anton.
Kip sunk his teeth into Anton’s leg. Anton howled. The boxer bent down and grabbed Kip, sticking his fingers in the corners of Kip’s mouth and pulling at the edges. The pain from Kip’s lips caused him to release his hold with his mouth. Anton lifted Kip up. Like he was serving a ball, he tossed Kip in the air, cocked his fist back, and as Kip fell to eye level, he punched him in the gut.
The pain was horrendous. Kip went flying farther than he had ever been sent flying before. The explosion bore into his belly and launched him across the forest floor. The burrowlings watched from their hole as Kip’s body was tossed across the forest floor and he landed against a sharp rock.
“Typical,” Said Anton, “Even the lowest of kobolds still have some kind of diluted, derivative of a dragon’s scale. Makes sense that you would be able to take on that impact of my explosion. Surely that still hurt, however.”
“Oh, surely.” Kip uttered as he felt like he was coughing up a lung. His hoodie had a large hole singed off. His belly had taken some bruising, and some of his scales had flaked off from such a severe punt to the gut. Kip stuck up his dukes, breathing heavily.
How the heck am I going to win against this guy? Kip thought to himself. Although he had gained some levels here or there… this was still very far off from taking on a Tiger level threat alone.
He watched as Anton punched the air. He needed a way to beat this guy. He needed a way to win. He reached into his tool belt and felt grenades. He could use that. What else? Kip scanned the area.
His face lit up. He was glad that Zeke wasn‘t around to see what he was about to do, straightforward was just not his style. Kip stared down at Anton. He took out his grenade and placed it in his hand.
Anton put his dukes back up, protecting his house, “I can sense it. You’ve finally woken up. Here’s to a good fight.”
Anton barreled toward Kip. Kip ran toward Anton. Kip coughed on the grenade and lit it up as he approached the man with his fiery fists. Anton launched a fist at Kip. Kip slid on his knees, dodging the fist and throwing up a grenade right into Anton’s face. Anton looked at it and before he could turn back, the grenade exploded. Ice covered Anton’s upper half. It was an invention of Kip’s own design. He took Ice Ivy from a frozen river bank, ground them into a fine powder in the blizzard cold so the friction of his pestle and mortar did not heat up the ivy. He added a little bit of pressurized water and trapped it in a clay form. The ignition would merely break the seal of the clay, and the water would shoot out the Ice Ivy who’s most notorious properties was an ice infection upon contact with skin. It wasn’t as strong as the real plant, but It had done the job. Anton was covered in ice. Anton took his fist and punched his now iced torso. The explosion rang out and broke the casing into little bits.
Anton looked around. Kip was nowhere to be found.
Anton walked along, “Don’t seem like the type to leave. Hmmm. I wonder, I wonder. Must be some kind of stratagem being employed. But what?!”
“Ah hah!” Anton said to himself as he walked the little path behind him. He looked right down the hole of the burrowlings, “Yes. Now I see. The very subjects you’re supposed to be protecting. Using their hard work to hide from me. What a lord you are. Truly. You know, I’m part of the Ulmund Army. High up actually. I would never think to use civilian homes this way. But that’s me.
“If I wind up my fist, I can contain a lot of the explosion and…” Then he punched down into the hole. The explosion caused a surge of fire all throughout the little ecosystem. Kip was climbing through as best he could but the fire reached him, enveloping him and shooting him out through an open hole like a geyser.
“Yeewwouch!”
Kip slammed against the ground, “Maybe that wasn’t the best plan.”
Anton chuckled, “No. In fact, it was quite base. How many of your little burrowlings do you think you’ve hurt with that plan? How many do you think are dead?”
A gruff voice rang out from a large minotaur with a flowy mullet behind him. “You messing with my little buddy, punk?”
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