The sound of flesh being struck shook the environment. Tawnylon had connected a palm strike directly to Thamuz's chest, with such overwhelming force that his son was sent flying through the air, spinning several times before crashing into the hard ground of the arena. The impact raised a cloud of dust and cracked the earth beneath his body.

  Tawnylon straightened up and turned, observing how the clouds of dust enveloped his son, hiding him completely. The cracking of moving rocks pierced his ears, alerting him.

  Suddenly, Thamuz emerged from the dust cloud with arms extended, seeking to trap his father in a deadly grip. But Tawnylon was faster: he raised his arm with his palm extended and struck Thamuz's face with supernatural speed, sending him once again to the ground where another cloud of dust rose around him.

  "So you're using your environment to attempt a grip," said Tawnylon, crossing his arms. "Let's see what else you have to show me, son."

  He heard footsteps coming from the dust cloud and instinctively responded with a palm strike, but this time he found no resistance. At his side, he perceived the unmistakable sound of muscles tensing, accumulating terrible force. A furtive glance revealed something that left him paralyzed for a crucial moment.

  There was Thamuz, almost crouched and displaying his shoulder, preparing the Ghokmeran. He had masterfully taken advantage of his father's confusion to position himself.

  Tawnylon barely had time to turn and protect himself with his arms when Thamuz lunged at him with dizzying speed and devastating force. The impact of the shoulder against his defense made bones crunch, and the giant was sent flying backward, through a wall of Vixkard's house until landing in the outer streets.

  But instead of grunting in pain or showing anger for having fallen into the trap, Tawnylon rose with a radiant smile. His defiant gaze revealed that the combat was truly beginning to excite him.

  "You are no longer the same as before, my son. Now I can fight with you as two true fighters would," he muttered to himself, catching his breath with a deep inhalation.

  Once recovered, Tawnylon launched himself toward Thamuz with arms extended, prepared to execute a devastating grip.

  Thamuz prepared himself, executing a palm strike to counter his father's onslaught, but as if he were lightning incarnate, Tawnylon changed his position fleetingly. He elevated his body to deliver a palm strike to Thamuz's chin, who was left astonished by such a display of speed, unable even to glimpse the movement.

  Taking advantage of his son's shock, Tawnylon skillfully slid behind Thamuz, imprisoning him between his muscular arms before executing a devastating suplex. The grip was so brutal that it made the ground tremble, even awakening Vixkard, who quickly rose and sharpened his ear to capture the sounds emanated by the combatants.

  Thamuz was embedded in the ground, his head sunk among the burning rocks while his body hung in the air, with legs extended like a fallen standard.

  "The same movement I taught you when you first learned about the shamonak. Something so simple yet deadly at the same time," pronounced Tawnylon, rising with deliberation.

  Thamuz collapsed to the ground, raising a cloud of dust around him. His body lay inert until, slowly, he began to rise until fully recovering his stance.

  "You're really not holding back, father. If that's the case, then neither will I," declared Thamuz, this time adopting a low position, not as pronounced as on other occasions, but at a considerable height, as if aiming directly at his progenitor's chest.

  Tawnylon imitated the same posture, fixing his penetrating gaze on his son's eyes. A moment of silence preceded the attack, until both lunged at each other again, their bodies colliding with the force of two titans.

  Thamuz gripped his father's hips while the latter responded with equal ferocity, each trying to dominate the other's strength in a clash of pure brute power. Tawnylon's fortitude seemed to initially surpass Thamuz's, but his son strengthened with each passing second. It was as if Tawnylon was trying to fight and hold a living mountain that grew before him, until he felt his forces were eclipsed by those of his firstborn. With a primal roar, Thamuz threw his father against the ground with such momentum that it generated a crater under the veteran fighter's body.

  The air violently escaped from Tawnylon's lungs, though a faint smile drew on his lips. Thamuz's strength and power had increased dramatically since their first confrontation. Now, Tawnylon felt genuine pain, the bruises forming, each blow his son delivered resonating in his bones. Far from being intimidated, his body filled with rejoicing at such a challenge. He rose immediately and launched a palm strike directly at Thamuz, who barely managed to miraculously cover himself with one arm.

  "That's it, my son, that's what I want to see in you!" exclaimed Tawnylon, unleashing a relentless barrage of palm strikes toward Thamuz. "I want to contemplate the true shamonak fighter that dwells inside you!"

  Tawnylon's incessant blows were overwhelming even for the powerful Thamuz, who continued covering himself to avoid receiving the full impact. However, the bones in his arms seemed to be on the verge of fracture, so he had to resort to muscle control. In a bold movement, he immediately lowered his arms and flexed his muscles with all the power he could gather, receiving the full impact of the blows on his armored torso.

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  Tawnylon continued striking without respite, but increasingly felt the impenetrable hardness of his son's muscles, as if he were attacking a wall of living steel. Finally, he ceased his attack; his palms reddened and throbbing from the intensity of the blows delivered. Meanwhile, Thamuz breathed heavily and took advantage of the pause to catch his breath, touching his chest, abdomen, and arms, evaluating each area where his father had concentrated his fury.

  "It's something wonderful, isn't it?" said Tawnylon, tightly closing his bruised fists. "Muscle control is very useful for receiving impacts and dispersing damage, but it has a weakness."

  With these last words, Tawnylon charged at Thamuz with his shoulder, not in such a professional manner as would be a ghokmeran, but rather something primal and resourceful that he used to be able to get close to him.

  The impact of his shoulder against Thamuz's chest was heard as a crunch, making Vixkard smile upon hearing the sound, leaning back in his chair while putting his hands behind his head.

  "My most powerful student from the past faces my most powerful student of the present," said Vixkard, although a melancholic tone seemed to escape from his lips. "The most powerful of the present."

  His small lament was overshadowed by the fierceness of the battle. Thamuz gripped his father's shoulder, trying to stop his advances, while his feet dragged against the ground.

  "Come on, what will you do, my son? If we continue like this, we will crash against the wall," said Tawnylon, with a mocking tone.

  Thamuz gave a small glance backward, observing that little by little Tawnylon's words were true; the wall was just a few meters away from them.

  But Tawnylon's advances were frustrated upon finding again the overwhelming strength of his son, which opposed his march, with Thamuz firmly gripping his hands to his father's ribs.

  "I'll do this!" roared Thamuz, lifting his father with all his strength, as if lifting a gigantic rock due to Tawnylon's prominent height.

  Just as he lifted him, he slammed him against the ground in a brutal manner, destroying the floor once again and generating a crater of proportions much greater than the previous ones he had made.

  The dust had risen once more, but Thamuz had not seen his father get up, showing a smile that displayed happiness and at the same time concern in case he had exceeded his strength. But upon bending down to better see if his father had been knocked out, he felt a great blow to his chest, with the impact reaching his lungs.

  Indeed, Tawnylon had taken advantage of his son's small confusion and had risen with great speed, striking Thamuz's chest with both palms, a technique without a name for being so simple. Moreover, it had been mentioned by Aolani some time ago, just when they were preparing to leave for the city. This technique, being so simple, was deadly, designed to face enemies of great size who had uncovered areas due to their great mass, for example, Thamuz.

  The impact was so strong that it almost brought Thamuz to his knees, using the strength he had left to remain standing, but he felt a cold grip behind his back. Tawnylon had shortened the distance between them and held him in an icy grip, while his mouth approached his son's ear.

  "The weakness of muscle control is that it is not something passive that activates at the slightest sign of danger; you have to be very attentive to when you're going to receive the blow," Tawnylon's grip tightened bestially around Thamuz. "I hope that muscle control serves you for this technique, because this technique was what I wanted to show you in our fight, the last technique of the shamonak, the most dangerous."

  Tawnylon jumped in the air while firmly holding Thamuz, who felt how the force of gravity sank against him, creating the sensation of floating, while his father still seemed to be suspended in the air, although in reality both were slowly falling.

  "This technique is called...!" Tawnylon's words were suspended when he suddenly turned to the right, completely flipping Thamuz and, with the extraordinary strength of his muscles, slammed his son's head against the ground as if throwing a ball. "Tomaketan!"

  The impact resonated throughout the place, shaking the surroundings with more intensity than an earthquake of great magnitude. Meanwhile, Tawnylon fell to the ground on his back, panting from fatigue and physical exertion.

  The figure of his son lying on the ground became present. He was face up, with his mouth open and his eyes lost; his chest did not move and there was no sign of life.

  "Thamuz, are you okay?" asked Tawnylon, slowly rising.

  Tawnylon approached where Thamuz was, observing his inert form and beginning to worry deeply about him. He bent down to better examine his son.

  "It cannot be, I think I went too far," whispered Tawnylon to himself, with tears at the edge of his eyes.

  But he felt a blow to his chin, so fast that it didn't give him time to react, falling right next to Thamuz, ending up head to head with him.

  "That hurt a lot, father," said Thamuz, raising his hand a little to caress Tawnylon's head, who remained knocked out next to him. "But I suppose you hadn't had a fight as evenly matched as the one we had now. I'm simply glad to have been able to battle at your level."

  Tawnylon's laughter was heard even though he was face down on the ground. He slightly turned his body to lie face up next to his son, both contemplating the stars with admiration.

  "You took advantage of my concern for you to give me a palm strike right on the jaw, making the force of the impact move my brain," explained Tawnylon, placing his hand on his son's head. "You really don't miss any opportunity, my son."

  The fight had ended in a draw, both parties with no desire to continue the combat because they could hurt themselves more than they had planned. They simply rose while helping each other, father and son.

  "It really was a very impressive fight. I would have given everything I had to buy new eyes to have been able to see it," Vixkard's voice resonated behind them.

  The old man had been hiding in the darkness; he had abandoned the rocking chair a good while ago and had spent the time sitting on a rock, a point where sounds could be heard better, clearly capturing the techniques they had used and the conclusion of the fight.

  "Mr. Vixkard," said Thamuz, panting from the pain of his wounds. "I thought you had fallen asleep."

  "Yes, I fell asleep a little in the rocking chair, but this fight also revived the flame of my inner fighter," said Vixkard, raising his palms as if he were going to hit someone. "I even felt like joining in and giving you both a beating."

  Thamuz laughed seeing the mocking way Vixkard spoke, but Tawnylon looked skeptically at his master, crossing his arms and looking to the sides.

  "It wasn't much, just a little fight between father and son," said Tawnylon, in a subdued tone. "What's next now?"

  "Well, go fix yourselves up and clean up. I'm going to make a big bonfire to celebrate that Thamuz was able to pass his last test. Also, we will talk about many things," said Vixkard, placing his arms behind his back.

  Father and son looked at each other and turned around, walking toward the house to be ready for the great bonfire.