I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

Chapter 48: Tough for a boy!



Chapter 48: Tough for a boy!

Gustavo lunged at Zafron with surprising speed for a man of his size, the dagger in his hand leaving a trail of sickly green light in its wake. Zafron's eyes widened, his body reacting on pure instinct. He ducked low, feeling the whoosh of air as the blade passed inches above his head. In the same fluid motion, he shoved Mara to the side, out of harm's way.

'Where is it?!' Zafron's mind raced as his eyes darted around, searching for the branch he'd discarded earlier. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut – he'd tossed it into the bushes, thinking the danger was over. A rookie mistake.

Gustavo pivoted, his face contorted with rage and a hint of surprise. He clearly hadn't expected Zafron to dodge so nimbly. The bodyguard's eyes narrowed, reassessing his young opponent.

'He's fast,' Zafron thought, his heart pounding. 'But he's also angry. I can use that.'

Gustavo charged again, this time with a series of quick slashes. The dagger's otherworldly glow left green afterimages in the air, making it harder for Zafron to track. He weaved and bobbed, feeling the wind of each near-miss. A particularly close swipe caught the edge of his shirt, tearing the fabric.

'Too close,' Zafron admonished himself, backpedaling to create some distance. His mind flashed back to previous fights – not the schoolyard scuffles, but the real ones. Like the time he'd been jumped by five boys while carrying fish home. He'd made it back without losing a single fish, but this... this was different.

Gustavo pressed his advantage, his massive form bearing down on Zafron. But with each attack, Zafron was learning, cataloging Gustavo's patterns.

'He favors his right side,' Zafron noted, ducking under another swing. 'And he overextends on his backswing.'

Seizing an opportunity, Zafron darted in close, driving his fist into Gustavo's solar plexus. The bigger man grunted, more in surprise than pain, but it was enough to create an opening. Zafron danced away, his mind racing.

'I can't keep this up forever,' he realized, panting slightly. 'I need to end this quickly.'

Gustavo's face twisted into an ugly snarl. "Lucky punch, boy," he growled. "But luck runs out."

He advanced again, but this time Zafron was ready. As Gustavo's arm came down in a powerful overhead strike, Zafron stepped inside his guard. He grabbed Gustavo's wrist with both hands, using the man's own momentum to pull him off balance.

For a moment, surprise flashed across Gustavo's face. Then he grinned, a cruel, feral expression. With his free hand, he caught Zafron by the throat, lifting him off his feet.

'Can't... breathe...' Zafron's vision began to blur as Gustavo's fingers tightened. He clawed at the iron grip, his feet kicking uselessly in the air.

"Not so nimble now, are you?" Gustavo sneered, bringing the dagger up slowly, savoring the moment.

Darkness crept in at the edges of Zafron's vision. His lungs burned, screaming for air. But even as his body weakened, his mind raced, refusing to give up.

'The dagger,' he thought frantically. 'It's everything to him. His power, his confidence.'

With the last of his strength, Zafron kicked out, not at Gustavo, but at the hand holding the dagger. His foot connected, sending the weapon spinning into the underbrush.

Gustavo's eyes widened in shock and fury. His grip on Zafron's throat loosened just enough for the young man to gasp in a precious breath of air.

'Now or never,' Zafron thought, his survival instinct kicking into overdrive.

He brought both hands down hard on Gustavo's elbow, forcing the arm to bend. As he dropped to the ground, Zafron used the momentum to drive his forehead into Gustavo's nose with a sickening crunch.

Blood spurted as Gustavo staggered back, howling in pain and rage. Zafron didn't waste the opportunity. He pressed forward, raining blows on Gustavo's midsection, each punch fueled by desperation and determination.

But Gustavo was far from beaten. With a roar, he caught one of Zafron's punches, using his superior strength to yank the younger man off balance. His other fist came around in a devastating hook that caught Zafron on the side of the head, sending him sprawling.

Stars exploded in Zafron's vision as he hit the ground hard. He rolled, barely avoiding Gustavo's follow-up stomp. The earth shook with the impact, leaves and twigs scattering.

'Get up,' Zafron commanded himself, forcing his battered body to move. 'Get up or die.'

As he staggered to his feet, he saw Gustavo scanning the ground, no doubt looking for his lost dagger. A plan formed in Zafron's mind, desperate and dangerous.

"Looking for this?" he called, his voice raspy from the earlier choking.

Gustavo's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Zafron with murderous intent. Zafron stood there, swaying slightly, one hand behind his back as if holding something.

With a bellow of rage, Gustavo charged, all technique abandoned in his fury. Zafron waited, timing it just right. At the last possible second, he pivoted, using Gustavo's own momentum to send him crashing into a tree.

The impact was thunderous. Gustavo slumped to the ground, dazed but not unconscious. Zafron knew he had only moments before the bigger man recovered.

His eyes landed on a fallen branch – not the one he'd used earlier, but it would do. He snatched it up, turning to face Gustavo just as the man was pushing himself to his knees.

"It's over," Zafron said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

Gustavo looked up, his face a mask of hatred. "It's never over, boy," he snarled. "I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth."

Zafron's grip tightened on the branch. "No," he said firmly. "You won't."

Zafron's fingers tightened around the branch, his eyes fixed on Gustavo's prone form. This was it – the moment to end it all. He raised the makeshift weapon, muscles tensing for the final blow.

Suddenly, a sharp, cold sensation pierced his back. Zafron gasped, the branch slipping from his grasp as he choked on the metallic taste flooding his mouth. Blood. His blood.


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