The Fearsome Other Side

The Gazelle Step—

Moro didn't even know the name of this footwork.

After all, he picked it up from the long ponytail woman.

However, it wasn't as though he deliberately set out to copy her.

It was just that, across the eighteen matches he'd fought so far, the long ponytail woman was the only opponent who had used a formal footwork technique.

So technically, this was the only skill Moro could "steal" by observing and thinking during the fight.

The footwork involved using the toes to generate force, making the user's movements light and nimble as they darted forward or retreated.

The heel would then act as a pivot point, enabling a rapid directional change, much like a bounding gazelle.

Learning the mechanics of this technique wasn't difficult—the hard part was generating explosive power between moments of stillness.

However, that issue could be resolved with the augmentation provided by nen.

This was why Moro, who had only recently "stolen" the footwork, could use it even more effectively than its original user.

"Quite confident, aren't you?"

Standing at the center of the arena, Moro raised a hand to touch his slightly swollen cheek, his gaze calm as he looked at Tagore standing at the edge of the platform.

After several exchanges, he'd already figured out Tagore's nen ability.

It was a type of power that infused shockwave properties into nen, enhancing its ability to break through defensive nen fortifications.

Because the Enhancement type of nen didn't lend itself to ranged attacks, Tagore relied on close-range combat to maximize the effectiveness of his strikes.

The crucial detail was that Tagore could project this shockwave-like nen through his fists, elbows, and perhaps even other parts of his body.

It was a pure combat-oriented ability—perfectly tailored to Tagore's brutal fighting style.

But what caught Moro's attention was how recklessly Tagore had revealed his ability upfront.

Most nen abilities carried what was known as "first-strike advantage"—meaning they were most effective when used as a surprise.

Moro's Deceiving Meteor ability was a perfect example of this concept, and Tagore's shockwave-infused strikes were no different.

If Moro had been in Tagore's position—

He would've masked his ability, striking with normal punches to lure the opponent into a false sense of security. Only after creating an opening would he unleash a devastating surprise attack using the shockwave-enhanced blow.

With the element of surprise, there was a high chance he could've ended the match with a single blow.

But Tagore had wasted this tactical advantage by showcasing his ability right away.

It was blind confidence.

However, in a competitive arena like Sky Arena, where glory was earned through public display, most fighters couldn't afford to hold back their abilities for long.

As for Moro—he had no choice but to be cautious.

Any unnecessary exposure of his abilities would only make him more vulnerable to assassination attempts.

Tagore should be thankful for that…

Moro mused inwardly.

If exposing his ability wasn't an issue, Moro was confident he could easily set up a finishing strategy that would make Tagore pay dearly for his overconfidence.

But there was no "what if."

Moro's face remained calm as he focused on Tagore's movements.

In the midst of his thoughts, an idea crossed his mind:

Why not use this fight to practice the Gazelle Step footwork?

Tagore, unaware of Moro's inner calculations, advanced again, his desire to attack radiating off of him like heat waves.

Sharp whooshes of air accompanied his fists as he launched a barrage of strikes, each one laced with lethal intent.

Moro's concentration reached its peak as he dodged each attack. Despite evading several punches, he was forced to continue retreating step by step.

Within moments—

Tagore had thrown hundreds of punches.

Despite Moro's focus on defense, some of the punches—augmented by the shockwave-like nen—still managed to land.

Fortunately, Moro had distributed most of his nen defensively across his body and employed his footwork to absorb some of the impact, so the hits didn't impair his physical condition.

One minute... Two minutes...

As time dragged on, Tagore's fists blurred into a continuous storm of attacks.

But Moro's defensive maneuvers grew more precise and intuitive, until it became impossible for Tagore to land another solid blow.

"I see it clearly now..."

Through the high-speed chaos of the battle, Moro gradually attuned himself to Tagore's attack patterns.

With his footwork becoming more fluid and natural, Moro was no longer trapped by the overwhelming pressure from before.

By this point, no matter how Tagore adjusted his attack angles or extended his nen, his strikes continued to miss their mark.

Tagore noticed this as well. His overconfident expression from the start of the fight had completely faded, replaced by mounting frustration.

"Damn rat! Is dodging all you can do!?"

Fueled by anger, Tagore's movements became even faster—but also more erratic.

Moro paid no mind to Tagore's taunts.

He wasn't sure how to describe what he was feeling at that moment.

Every time he avoided one of Tagore's punches, every time he watched the extended nen wave pass harmlessly in front of him—

he felt an odd kind of exhilaration, like the thrill of drifting around the edge of a tight curve at breakneck speed.

Maybe it was the sense of accomplishment...

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

But this feeling—it was...

Enjoyable.

Moro realized something else, too:

Even though he was in the middle of a furious barrage of attacks—

he could still think clearly.

It was as though a part of his mind had stepped back to observe the fight from a third-person perspective.

The arena lights above illuminated the stage below, casting every dust particle into view...

And within the swirling nen aura surrounding Tagore, Moro could read it all—

the tension, the rage, the growing desperation.

He's losing control, Moro thought calmly.

On the stage, the battle raged.

In the audience, the crowd roared with excitement.

To most spectators—especially Tagore's supporters—it looked as though their champion was dominating the fight.

The cheers grew deafening.

However, those without nen could not see the subtle truths unfolding on the stage.

"...Moro..."

Among the spectators, several seasoned 200-level fighters watched in stunned silence.

The way Moro evaded the attacks—his calm adaptability—it was something rarely seen.

"He's... getting stronger. He's improving during the fight!"

One fighter in the crowd couldn't believe his eyes.

The audience could only see Tagore's overwhelming aggression, but the seasoned fighters saw something more terrifying—

Moro was rapidly mastering the very techniques that had been used against him.

"Tagore is done for..."

A fighter with nine victories at the 200-level stood up, shaking his head.

When a blade loses its edge—when a punch loses its impact—

defeat becomes inevitable.

On stage—

Tagore's rhythm faltered, his fury reaching its peak.

Moro, who had been conserving his strength, seized the perfect moment—

and with a single precise strike—

sent Tagore crashing to the floor.

The arena fell silent.

Gasps echoed through the stands as the spectators stared in shock.

How could Tagore—who had been so dominant—be taken down with a single blow?

At the edge of the audience, the handsome man who had been silently observing Moro suddenly stood.

His eyes, brimming with curiosity and longing, fixed on the young fighter standing victorious on the stage.

"There's... something there," the man murmured.

"Some kind of power beyond anything I've known..."

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Powerstones?

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