Disadvantage Is A Simple Concept!

It appeared that my statement had proved to be incorrect. As my fist landed against the man, I was constantly faced with the repercussions. My opponent was far different from his compatriots.

He ducked underneath many of my punches before delivering several of his own to the side of my head. Each blow that he landed against me was with practiced motions and landed with the force of a sledgehammer. 

To be honest, the reverse was true for this encounter. His fists pummeled me from both the left and right sides of my body. Whenever I attempted to grab onto the man, he always managed to slip my grasp before blasting me with a hook with his opposite fist. My overhead attacks missed their mark, and my jabs whiffed by his head.

If he and I were equal in strength, then it was highly likely that I would be in worse shape. I found myself thanking God, himself that I inherited Brass' enhanced body. Although his blows were stiff, I was never staggered until I managed to land any of my own attacks on him.

Each failure of mine brought a sick smirk on his face as if he knew that he had my number. It made my blood boil seeing his face warp in pleasure as he wailed on my body.

"What's wrong? Is this you humoring me? What a bad joke?", the bald man taunted.

His boot found its way into my best and when I caught it, something slammed into me. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it was enough to stagger me. That was just enough for my attacker to slip behind me and grab me by my waist. 

Throwing hands with him began bleeding into my time, time that allowed his previously down comrades to gain their wits. Started with one, but then two more regained their consciousness and returned to the fight. Blasting them away was a simple task if not for the fact that they began coordinating their attacks far better than before.

Each time that I managed to return with a strike towards them, the bigger man stepped in the way. He would tank my attack, and the other ones would spring behind the moment that I was blown off balance. Their fists landed blow after blow, and despite being more durable than they were, they were beginning to wear down on me. 

Therefore I did the only reasonable course of action. After being again blown away by a counterattack, I changed strategies. The eyepatch man seemed to be gaining speed by the moment, and at first, I thought that I was simply slowing down. It is logical that I ran out of steam with how things were going, but that wasn't it. I could feel within my spirit that something strange was afoot. 

'It is like this man can reflect my damage or some shit… and he got some type of speed buff as well. He's good at fighting as well, so I know that he's experienced, but no matter how experienced there must be a reason and a weakness…"

The man fired back with a punch of his own, and while I managed to avoid it, a second uppercut landed against my ribs. A wave of discomfort washed over my body as air abandoned my lungs.

Another fist rained from my right and crashed into my jaw. My world began spinning and before I knew it, a sword slashed me across my side. The blade chipped, but the fabric of my clothing gave way.

I struggled to stay standing and once I managed to do so. A boot caught me dead in my chest, and I took flight. I don't recall what happened next, but I found myself flat on my ass. My eyes attempted to straighten themselves as the man with the eyepatch approached. His goons flocked behind him as he wore his satisfied grin.

His words were muffled, but I could tell that he was speaking. This whole situation had become warped to where I now resided on the backfoot, and my opponents gained the upper hand. I couldn't wrap my head around it. When I fought Bernard, I was able to go blow to blow with the man without giving ground. Yet, here I was throwing hands with one of his subordinates and they managed to push me back.

As they approached I began rerunning the situation within my scattered mind. 

'Why can he rattle me? Why are my attacks not damaging him? What changed?'

"Hold him down. We'll finish him, and then go find the boss!", the eyepatched man ordered.

The other men nodded and for the first time crept from behind him. They moved swiftly, but before they managed to close the distance, I sprung to my feet. Launching forwards, I powered through the middle of the two of them and caught them both with a clothesline.  The men flipped from the impact of my arms catching their chests.

It took everything that I could muster to hold my wits together, and my surprise attack managed to surprise them.  The slight hesitation of the eyepatch man brought about the defeat of the third man. That was the man with the sword, and as such I slipped past his counter slash and forearmed the man. 

His body hit the ground and with that, it was just me and Baldie with the eyepatch. Surprise colored his face as I pushed myself forward. He prepared himself, but I did something that he didn't expect. There was something odd about this whole ordeal.

From what I've heard Ursa Major's are supposed to outclass regular humans in strength. That is why they were locked up like slaves back at the Golden Market. My strength matches and possibly surpasses that, so it is bullshit that he should be able to match me. 

One by one the men before him were battered with one hit, and yet he managed the withstand it. I gripped his hands and for the first time, I was not blown away. Our muscles flexed and with that, my tethered mind sewn a conclusion together.

Our strength seemed so evenly matched that it treaded into the realm of absurdity. It was so absurd that in fact, he seemed to be gaining strength by the moment. If he could do that on his own, then he wouldn't be working for Bernard. That only meant one thing.

"You're not that strong normally… are you,  slick-headed bastard?!"

His face confirmed my words at that moment. A wrinkle appeared on his bro, and with it was a considerable effort to overpower me.

"You're face to face with a man above your means.", he retorted.

"I'm face to face with a rat-faced bastard. That ain't your strength. You're stealing it, and you have an accomplice."

The pieces fell together. I am incredibly strong that I could send a man flying, and I'm pretty sure that isn't normal. This whole thing isn't normal if you consider what changed in this encounter and the others. While Bernard was as powerful as I was, he was able to be dealt with outside of his Wrath buff.

The rest of their men lacked one crucial element that is present now., and that was magic. Their boss could use fire magic, but I suspect that another type was in play. Considering that he had no indication of using it, it left only two people; Charleston, and that tall woman.

"What! You think that I can't overpower you?! Check your situation! It's happening right before your eyes!", The man growled.

"Nah - You can't by yourself, but if we're being helped, then that explains things!"

I believe that if Charleston was the one responsible, then there would be no need for him to run away earlier. He could have done whatever was transpiring for Bernard and I would have not bad it this far. That realization left only one person.

Now that I was able to grab a hold of my attacker, I could alter our position ever so slightly, and what I saw was damning. That damn woman had her hand extended towards her and her mouth moved indicating that she was speaking. 

It reminded me of whenever Claire began speaking for her spells, and when she finished, my opponent's strength increased once more. He shifted his body and his hands slipped out of my grasp. That would prove to be a mistake on his part as now he no longer stood in between me and the woman.

Anyone with an understanding of strategy knows that you should avoid battling a tank whenever necessary. It is a waste of time. What you do is simple. You take out the vulnerable squishy support behind them and break off their support. Battling this man in this nature is a quick way for me to end up as the defeated. If I desire to turn the tide of this battle back in my favor, then I must crush the spell caster behind him. 

After our grapple skirmish, both my attacker and I were thrown off balance. Considering that I was the quicker of us to regain it, I struck with the ferocity of a cobra. I powered passed him and launched myself toward the location of the spell-casting woman.

My fist reached back, and I prepared to blast her away with a powerful blow. Yet, as one may expect, the bald man fought to prevent that. He managed to catch up to me and before I got halfway, he somehow managed to position himself in between us. 

His goal was simple and he brought his forearm up to counter my punch. History directed my actions and as such I transformed my punch into another action. Instead of attacking with a punch, I threw my body into him in order to grapple him.

Much like a Linebacker sacking a Quarterback, I dragged the surprised man backward and rotated my hips. Mustering the strength that I could, I picked him up and slammed his body into the woman that he tried to protect.

It was a noble sacrifice. That is what I would have liked to say, but the outcome blew my mind. An arm extended and all of the momentum that I gathered came to a screeching halt. As God as my witness, I didn't expect that woman to halt the momentum of both our bodies with a single palm.