"Slash."

With that, the second high grade was down, by Zeta again.

"Ok sis, you’ve done just about enough," Michael said as he walked up. "You two as well."

"The next one is mine."

"You’re going to have to—"

Before Charles could finish what he was saying, he got blitzed by Michael. In an instance, Michael was ahead.

This is where there’s the most mana concentration.

"Come"—he called forth his mana skin.

"His synchronization seems to have gone further. His top half is almost mostly all covered," ’Charles thought.’

"That’s just insane," Porter said.

Right in front. Face to face, the high grade spawned.

"How did he know the creature was going to place there?" Rose asked.

Shom sat down. He wasn’t going to do as much until he saw trouble and deemed it to be truly troublesome.

At first, it was messy.

Too close. Too cramped. Too raw.

Michael’s back scraped hard against the jagged cave wall as the high-end surged into him, a mountain of muscle and pressure that didn’t give him space to think, only to react. The tunnel was narrow—barely wide enough for both of them—and that alone turned the fight ugly. No room to circle. No room to breathe.

Just hands.

The high-end swung first. A brutal, compact hook that carved through the air with enough force to crack stone. Michael raised his guard late—too late. The blow clipped him, smashing him sideways into the wall. Rock splintered. Dust burst into the air.

He felt it. Even through the mana.

"Damn..."

No elegance. No distance. Just a brawl.

Michael stepped back in anyway.

His fist came up fast, mana wrapping tight around his knuckles—not flaring, not flashy, just dense. Focused. He drove it forward into the high-end’s ribs. The impact thudded heavy, like striking reinforced steel.

The creature didn’t budge.

It answered with another punch.

Michael ducked this one by instinct more than skill, the fist grazing his hair as it slammed into the wall behind him, punching a crater into solid stone. The cave shuddered. Pebbles rained down.

Too close, he realized. Too reactive.

He shifted.

The next exchange was quicker. Tighter.

Michael slipped inside the high-end’s reach—not away from it, but deeper into it. His shoulder crashed into its chest, disrupting its balance for a fraction of a second. That was all he needed.

One punch.

Straight to the gut.

This time, he let the mana sink deeper before impact—compressed, layered. The hit landed with a dull boom, and for the first time, the high-end’s body tightened.

A reaction.

Michael saw it.

So he didn’t stop.

Another punch—short, brutal, rising into its torso. Then another to the side. No wide swings, no wasted motion. Just tight, suffocating strikes delivered from inches away. Each one carried more weight, more intent, as he adjusted, refined, forced his mana to hit not just harder—but cleaner.

The high-end tried to answer back.

Its fist came down like a hammer.

Michael stepped into it.

Not away—into.

The blow glanced off his shoulder instead of crushing his skull, and in that same breath, Michael drove his own fist up into the creature’s jaw. The crack echoed through the cave, sharp and sudden.

The high-end’s head snapped back.

It took a step.

Just one.

But that was enough.

Something shifted.

Michael pressed forward.

Now he was the one crowding. The one closing space. Every step he took forced the high-end back deeper into the cave, its massive frame scraping against the rough stone walls. The tunnel that once worked against Michael now became a trap—for it.

Another punch.

This one slammed into its chest, the force dispersing through the confined space, the impact echoing louder, heavier.

The cave amplified everything.

Every strike sounded like a detonation.

The walls began to crack under the repeated shockwaves, dust thickening the air, small fragments falling with every hit. The high-end swung again, slower this time—its rhythm breaking.

Michael slipped it clean.

His fist buried itself into its abdomen.

The creature folded.

That was new.

Michael didn’t hesitate.

He stepped in even closer—chest to chest now—and unleashed a barrage. Short hooks. Straight drives. Body, ribs, sternum. Each punch layered with mana, each impact sharper than the last. He wasn’t just hitting anymore—he was breaking structure. Forcing collapse.

The high-end tried to stand its ground.

It couldn’t.

Every punch pushed it back another inch. Then another. Its heels ground against stone, leaving gouges as it was driven deeper, until its back hit the cave wall with a heavy, final thud.

No more space.

Michael saw that too.

His next punch came faster.

And harder.

It slammed into the high-end’s chest, and the wall behind it cracked violently, fractures spreading outward like a web. The creature’s body jerked with the impact, pinned between fist and stone.

Another punch.

The cracks deepened.

Another.

Stone began to cave.

The high-end’s arms came up slower now, its defenses crumbling under the relentless pressure. Its swings lost power, then direction, then purpose.

Michael’s didn’t.

He had found the rhythm.

Not wild. Not rushed.

Dominant.

Each strike was deliberate, crushing, final.

The last punch came from deep—hips turning, mana compressing to its limit before release. When it landed, it didn’t just hit the high-end.

It drove through it.

The wall behind shattered completely, the force blasting rock outward as the creature was buried into the collapsing stone.

Silence followed.

Dust drifted.

Michael stood there, fist still half-raised, breath steady despite the destruction around him.

No flashy techniques.

No weapons.

Just hands.

And total domination.

"Did he just—" Miles got cut off.

"Yes I think he did," Lin said.

"It took three of us to do that very thing and yet he just. Wow," ’Porter thought.’

Due to how quickly the high end was wiped, not one more was spawned.

"What’s going on, there’s nothing else? Is that all? Come on. Let me in on some of the action at least," Miles said.

Three more spawned, shocking everyone present, everyone but the captain.

"Now how would you guys go about this?" Shom said.

"Hey, take it easy ok Michael," Charles said before Michael rushed on. He was going to take one by himself.

"Come," Zeta said.

"If he can do it, then so can I," ’she thought.’

Her mana skin appeared. It was nowhere near as vast as her brother’s but she probably had the second most developed of the bunch.

"Hey Porter, Charles, you boys can share the last one."

"Is she sure," ’Porter thought.’ Does she know what she’s doing.

"Ok," Charles accepted.

"Don’t forget about us," Miles yelled.

The clashing began.

One down. Two more spawned.

One down. Two more spawned.

Only one of the original three remained.

"Hey, how you doing over there Zeta?" Lin asked.

She got no response.

Lin was met with a sight she didn’t expect.

Rose turned towards Lin, she saw her expression and then yelled.

"Captain, what are you doing?"