THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: THREE FINGERS

Orkler was a whirlwind of fury, his massive form charging at David like a runaway battering ram. His fist, the size of a melon, arced through the air, aimed squarely at David's jaw with bone-shattering intent. David, his cosmic eyes blazing with icy focus, inhaled a sharp breath. He couldn't meet this head-on – Orkler's raw power would turn him into a crumpled ragdoll.

But beneath the swirling vortex of his eyes, a predator's instinct bloomed. Years of honed combat honed his reflexes to a razor's edge. He saw the subtle tremor in Orkler's muscles, the almost imperceptible telegraph of the blow.

David gambled. With a split-second decision, David anticipated Orkler's jab before it could land. With the audacity of a hummingbird facing a bull, he struck with lethal force, driving his fist into Orkler's meaty bicep while simultaneously redirecting the Minotaur's forearm with the back of his other hand.

This was no mere block – it was the redirection of a juggernaut. The Minotaur, for a split second, stumbled, thrown off balance by the unexpected manoeuvre. His bellow of surprise echoed through the courtyard, a testament to the audacity of David's attack.

But Orkler was a creature of brute force, his rage a furnace stoked by the unexpected resistance. The imbalance was fleeting. With a thunderous roar that shook the very foundation of the manor, he unleashed another bone-crushing punch with his free hand. The very air crackled with raw power as it met David's counter, a clash of strength against technique.

The impact echoed like a war drum, a prelude to the brutal symphony of combat that was about to unfold.

"Impossible!" Mace boomed, his voice dripping with disbelief as he witnessed David's unwavering defiance against Orkler's onslaught. The Minotaur's blows rained down, each one a thunderclap meant to shatter mountains, yet David remained miraculously untouched.